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I wasn't always the domestic goddess I am today. My start into the culinary world began in college when I had to start fending for myself and not surviving solely on hot pockets and Eggos. I excelled quickly, inheriting my mom's talent for cooking and her innate ability to "feel" the ingredients in a dish, and my dad's excellent and eclectic palate. My first dinner party however was not a success. It was my ex's birthday and decided to cook him and my family dinner to celebrate, on the menu was garlic bread and pesto shrimp linguine.

I underestimated how much of almost every single ingredient I needed. There wasn't enough garlic butter to flavor the bread, so it was bland. I toasted the bread way too long in the oven so it ended up being sad, bland, giant, crackers that cut the shit out of the top of your mouth after taking a bite. I overcooked the linguine noodles. I didn't have enough of the pesto and shrimp and tried to compensate by adding a shiton of parmesan cheese. Needless to say the pasta was an overcooked, under-sauced fail.

My ex choked it down and said he liked it, as did my best friend and her boyfriend. The rest of my family, who are Asian and therefore have the too-honest, asshole gene told me it sucked, hard. Surprisingly, my dad usually had the asshole gene as well but he was the only was that night that lied and said it was good. "Ooh Jesska, this dericous, you can be chef! Soooo dericious! You so taleneted. ^__^"


The times, they are a changin'

Oh livejournal, no matter how dead it gets around here, I will never leave you. Evar. That being said, I know it's been awhile since I've updated. I miss you guys, and this is a monster of an update.

After seven years, Henry and I are going out separate ways. I packed up my essentials and made the seven hour drive home from socal yesterday, all the while trying not to have a nervous breakdown in the car and reminding myself this is the right thing to do. I've been with him since I was 18, and he's the only once I've ever been with. I've grown up with him. I just feel like as cliche as it is, if I don't break away and experience what it is to be single and on my own I will regret it.

Initially when I began to have these thoughts I had a freaking-the-fuck-out period. I saw a therapist and about two months I knew this was just something I had to do.

I have no regrets or qualms.. I am thankful for being able to experience what it is to love and be loved in return.

Here's to having adventures.


What my mom and I talk about..

Mom: I saw a really big animal the other night, it was in our backyard. It had the pointiest face, it was the size of two cats!
Me: Was it a raccoon?
Mom: I don't know.. it had a very pointy face, and it was huge! It was the size of two cats, two BIG cats. Where did it come from?
Me: Did it have a hairy tail, or a rat-like tail?
Mom: I don't remember, it was HUGE, it had a pointy face and it was the size of two cats! Where did it come from?
Me: -Looks up pictures of both a raccoon and a possum online, shows her raccoon first- Was it this?
Mom: No, that's too cute..
Me: -Shows her picture of possum- Was it this?
Mom: YES! What's that called?
Me: Possum.
Mom: Popcorn??
Me: No, possum.
Mom: Oh... Where did it come from??


Sundays hurt the most.

It's pretty sad just how much I dread when Sunday comes. My weekends have become much too short, and my weeks have become much too droning. I'm not sure where I'm going right now. I like working at Oakley for the most part. I like the people I work with, I like the company, but I find myself thinking more about where it's all going. Am I going to move up in this company and work here forever? I had a completely different plan for myself a year ago. I don't regret anything and I'm not unhappy though. I suppose I'm still getting used to it.

I miss my family, the ones that matter most are halfway across the world. I miss my best friend.

I have the feeling like I'm looking for something, but I can't find it. I don't know what it is, though.

I guess I can chalk this all up to the weird and ever-increasing existential moments I've been having. Sometimes I'll have moments where I feel like I'm looking at my own life from outside and wondering if that is really me.

I have this wrinkle on the left side of my mouth that I can see growing deeper. It's contributed to my fear of getting old, and increased the thoughts I have on my own mortality.

I wonder where my dad is right now.


Water beds.

When I was a kid I really, really wanted a water bed. I just thought they were so cool, the way they jiggled. I remember asking my dad for one at the mattress store one time, and he got mad and said, "NO, that's no good. That kind of bed only for... yucky people." I never understood what exactly he meant by "yucky people" when I was little, but now I'm pretty sure he meant water beds were only for porn stars.



Though I've taken it out recently, I got my naval piercing when I was in high school, and my ear piercings have also slowly started growing in number from around that time. I managed to hide my naval piercing from my dad for about 4 years, when one day I raised my hands to stretch with a slightly too-short shirt and my dad caught a glimpse of it.

Dad: "Ay-yah! What is that???"
Me: " ...O_O..."
Dad: " - Glances at my ears also- When did you get all those?!"
Me: "I had them..."
Dad: "...So I guess you have a LOTS of earring now."
Me: "...Yea..."
Dad: -Grumbles and goes back to organizing his book shelf-


some things..

1. My nose ring fell out in the middle of the night last night and in the morning when I tried to put a new one in, it already closed! I've had it for over a year. I am sad and feel plain. It is nice not having to worry about washing my face carefully.. and being able to vigorously rub my face with a clean, fresh towel is pretty awesome I guess. Now it just looks like a huge pore though. :(

2. I have been nomming copious amounts of Mexican pastries, and traditional style tacos with the corn tortillas filled with delicious, and sometimes dubious cuts of meat. I had some pork snout and beef tongue tacos yesterday from a place in Santa Ana that were friggen AMAZING. I love being a Californian.

3. I just found Henry's toenail on my night stand. I am horrified.



Because I've been failing at livejournaling, have some visually pleasing Trix treats, and Cocoa Puff treats.

trix and cocoa puff treats

mochi and cereal treats

I can haz sum rite?


i liiiiiive.

I've sucked at updating lately, and at the dad-memories. I'm on it, I swears. I guess I haven't really had very much happen lately, but some things...

1. Working at Oakley is going well. The seasonal position ends around the end of September, hopefully I'll have done well enough for them to keep me on full-time.

2. I didn't have enough patience to grow my hair out and got a new haircut. I caved and have scene hair. It is one of my favorite hair cuts ever though. It's a lot more layered than it looks, it's long in the front but pretty short in the back.

3. I turned 24 on the 14th of this month where I drank way waaayy too much vodka then I should have and puked on the street for the first time.

4. New tattoo, Henry's birthday present to me.

scene hair 01

More hair..Collapse )

from michelle.

Comment on this entry, and I will:
1. Tell you why I friended you.
2. Associate you with something - fandom, a song, a color, a photo, a word etc.
3. Tell you something I like about you.
4. Tell you a memory I have of you.
5. Ask something I've always wanted to know about you.
6. Tell you my favorite user pic of yours.
7. In return, you must post this in your LJ.



I finally have a job. :D!!! It's a full-time, seasonal position with Oakley that could turn into a permanent position depending on my performance. I'm going to be a "Customer Care Analyst" AKA, the cube-monkey that takes phone calls about your online order and account information. I start training tomorrow :). At the end of the confirmation email:

"Remember, Oakley is a casual environment. Please do not wear a suit or dressy attire."




I officially miss my crazy long, hippy hair.


Right now it is in that gross in between stage where it's not short and cute and polished anymore, but not long enough to wear down or do cute braidy stuff yet and all I can do is put it up into poofy buns. I'm gonna grow my shit out again, and go lighter


Thoughts on body image.

I've been feeling more confident and at ease with my body lately. I've had problems with body image issues for a long time and it's been a veritable roller coaster ride from high school to present day. I remember having both the energy and body-confidence in high school to dress kick-ass (or as kick-ass as my high school uniform code would allow), do elaborate makeup everyday, and wear tight-fitting, skimpy clothing that flaunted my nubile, jail-bait figure and naval piercing. I was 5'7 and 130 lb. I was cute and I was thin.

When I entered college my weight stayed the same throughout freshman year, and I got even thinner towards sophomore year. I still dressed pretty much the same, but with less effort all-around. That style and body confidence slowly started to dwindle in junior year when I slowly gained about 20 pounds all the way throughout the end of college. I was a mess, and I didn't look or feel like myself. I wore baggy jeans, basketball shorts, t-shirts, flip flops, and baseball caps to hide my face all the time. It was the most unnattractive and pathetic I've ever felt in my life. When I would run into people I hadn't seen in awhile I could see the initial shock, then the confusion in their expressions asking "Dude, what the fuck happened?" I was crawling in my own skin. And the truth is I don't know what the fuck happened, or how I could let it happen. In reality it was a combination of growing out of my teenage body and gaining the womanly curves and bits of suck, not watching what and how much of what I was eating, and my boyfriend and I starting to fuck leading to me changing my birth control pills.

I realize this is all rather silly considering there are plenty of girls that are much heavier (some of whom I find very attractive) than I am, and that I wasn't even "fat". I wish I had either owned it, or tried doing something to fix it besides wallowing.

Things got easier after I graduated college, I grew up a little more and I let go of the angst and pining (the psychotic, crazy pining) for my girlish, teenage figure. I donated the baggy jeans and pants, and I put away the t-shirts and basketball shorts. I also started to watch what I ate, but I wasn't exercising yet. My weight started to stabalize just from watching my diet and I didn't feel as low as I had in the previous couple of years.

Now, I can say I'm in an okay place. Not great but okay, because fuck, I still have a sick desire to be model-thin, hell to even be as thin as I was in high school/early college and to fit into a pair of my old jeans.. which is sadly something I think won't ever go away. I'm still not where I'd like to be physically, however I do feel the healthiest and strongest I've felt in a long time. I go to the gym, do yoga and pilates and eat a well and balanced diet for the most part. I figure if I keep going on this track my body will follow to some degree. One can always hope.


Dream number two.

This is the second dream I had about my dad since he passed, it is the best, and it is the worst. It is the best because I get to hug him for a full three seconds and feel one of his big, bear hugs again. It is the worst because of it's sheer realness, and because for a full two seconds after I woke up I felt hopeful, and I thought it all had never really happened.

I am my present age, and sitting in my own room. Everything about my room looks the same, and everything is quite normal. I'm sitting in my white chair watching something on tv, my door opens and my dad walks in but he's dad from the 70's. He has that long chin-length haircut, and wearing his favorite brown plaid shirt. As he walks towards me, he is smiling and says "I'm back! I'm finally back!" I stand up and we hug for a full three seconds while I'm sobbing uncontrollably. I wake up and I hope to see my dad, after two seconds I start to sob uncontrollably.



My dad loved Chevy's, the Mexican chain restaurant. Everytime we went (which was often) he always ordered the steak/grilled shrimp fajitas combo. He loved fajitas so much that my mom tried making them at home, and when he saw the spread he yelled "FAJITASS!!" Her version included fried rice with peas and carrots.


News Anchor.

Ever since I could remember it was always my dad's dream for me to become a TV News Anchorwoman. When I was in grade school he'd bring it up every once in awhile, "When you grow up you should be TV anchor! I think you be good. Mommy and me born you here so your English very good, no problem. You be next Connie Chung!" When I entered junior high, "How about you be anchor?" When I entered high school, "When you go college, you should study and be anchor! I think you be good.. I think you be good!"



I'm alive. It's been a busy few weeks.

My mom visisted again and there was major drama that went down between us that consisted of a mix of repressed childhood resentment coupled with our language barrier with a dash of irrational, Korean anger. I won't go into details but after everything I'm glad it happened, we finally got to talk that stuff out. Things are really great between us now. While she was here we straightened out the rest of the house stuff, ran errands, and had a dinner party for my extended family.

On a completely different topic, I have never been filled with a stronger urge to SHOP than I have right now. I WANT TO BUY SO MANY THIINNGGGSSS. I WANT TO GO SHOPPINNNNGGGG, but I CAN'T because I have no MONNNIIIEEESSS. AGHGHGKGHHG, I WANT A FUCKING JOB!

Lately I've also developed a taste for fabulous high heels. I never used to wear heels unless they were for a special occasion, because I was always insecure about my height. I was always the tallest out of my Asian friends because they were of average Asian-midget height. But lately I can't seem to stop lusting after beautiful high heeled shoes. I just got a pair of black leather, tiny gold-studded bootie heels that I've been wearing out for no reason at all.

I need monies. :(


fat little arms.

I haven't been posting much, and have been crap about keeping up to date on the dad entries, but my mom came to town last week to see me and we've since had family over and cleaning/getting the last of the new place straightened out and generally running about. A few things.

- I'm in norcal right now for the weekend. It is sort of strange being back home, I feel like a guest. Everything seems calmer up here. I just drove mom and I up yesterday from Irvine for my ortho appointment. Teeth rape to the max.

- I experienced non-disdain for a baby (newest girl cousin) for the first time in my life. Yes, she put her fat little arms around my neck and hugged me. A large part of my identity has been skewed. WHO AM I?? But it comes and goes.

- I am apparently getting a new car. Pictures later.

- Pictures of my new socal residence coming also.


Pack O' Orphans.

I'm gonna break pattern here and do a story about my mom worth remembering.

My mom was born in South Korea, and grew up the oldest of four brothers. They were dirt poor, and my mom had to drop out of school when she was in the fourth grade to work and help out the family with food. She was practically a second mother to my uncles. Times were tough, she worked a lot of different jobs around town, from washing clothes, to gardening, but her main source of income came from extortion. She started by approaching the orphans at the local orphanage and made a deal with them, they provide the muscle, she'll split the cash between them. After that, she would run around the elementary schools during lunch and break hours and take money, food, toys, and whatever she liked from the local children, threatening a pounding if they wouldn't hand it over. At the end of the day she would split the spoils between herself and the orphans, take the loot home, and do it all over again the next day.



When my mom and dad were running that motel in Oxnard, the same motel where my dad would "practice" his "kung fu", some guy tried to rob my dad while he was working the front desk. From what my mom tells me, the guy had a gun and everything, and he was pointing it at my dad demanding money. My dad reached over to the cash register, but instead of pulling the cash out, he pulled the entire drawer out and slammed it unto the guy's head. He ran, firing some shots behind him, and luckily my dad wasn't hit, but only nicked with a dented coin that had absorbed one of the bullet shots. He kept the dented coin for awhile, but my mom made him get rid of it because she felt it wasn't good luck. My mom said he also bitch-kicked some belligerent customer in the chest and made him fly. It is pretty safe to say he was quite a bad-ass.