Thursday, October 29, 2009


With all the chaos surrounding the past couple weeks, i've failed to stop, pause, and take a breather. My sister's baby Mimi, a blond pomeranian who she raised since she was a baby and is now 6 yrs old, got attacked by a bull mix. (It's always a bull mix, isn't it?) Mimi almost died. She had emergency surgery at the top animal hospital in the Southeast and was placed in an ICU oxygen tank for 3 days in critical care. My sister was inconsolable and hysterical for days. She has experienced a lot of unspeakably crazy things in her life, but this was by a landslide the worst. I can talk about this ordeal now because mimi is on the road to recovery and because i think it's important for me to share with people who have lost a loved pet or even a family member, because Mimi is really a family member. Nearly losing Mimi really made us reassess our lives and what's important. Life is precious and God gives and he can just as easily take away. We have never prayed so hard in our lives. My mom who had been gone for a month flew in from Korea to tend to Mimi. We cried and prayed and prayed some more. It seemed so senseless to my sister and me, but my mom reminded us that not even a sparrow falls from the sky without God knowing it. And he demonstrated his mercy to our family in this. And here we are, nursing Mimi back to health and chewing food in our mouths and spitting it out so she will eat. It will be awhile before she's back to normal. She can't bark or walk or eat on her own. She wets herself and she has nightmares and wakes up whining and squealing. But we are so full of thanks and wonder at how good God is. Funny that that's what it takes for us to be thankful again.

Fall seemed to come overnight and all the leaves are orange, red and yellow now. Atlanta weather is so fickle. So freakin fickle. Maybe that's why all the women are fickle. One day it's a warm 72 and the next day it's 45 and raining. I look at the trees changing colors and it's like a reminder of how transformation is a part of our existence. As I get older, I can't help but feel the responsibilities piling up, the stress that every day brings to the table. And I find myself formulating an escape. My very own Wonderland. I want to jump and fall into the dark abyss and get lost in a world that is incomparable to my own...where things are unorthodox and may seem crazy to the untrained-Wonderlandoutlandish eye.

Does this feeling of wanting to run away make me childish and maybe even selfish? French philosopher, Henri Bergson, once said, "To exist is to change, to change is to mature, and to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly." In my opinion, maturity is so often perceived incorrectly. Maturity isn't about being boring, self-righteous, owning a house, drinking wine with a pinky sticking out, or never going out on weekends. To me, it is the ability to put others before yourself. Maturity is laughing at yourself and knowing when to be immature. It is being open-minded enough to put your own objectives aside and to listen, humbly. Maturity is a state of mind and has nothing to do with age. And most importantly, it's about being able to recreate yourself and opening yourself to re-enlightenment and variety and experience.

Yeah, i realize running away from life's problems is actually IM-mature. But i find that as long as i get done what i need to get done, as long as i am a good daughter, sister, friend, and student of the world, i can have my sprinkles cupcake and eat it, too. Because what i do will prepare me. Where i go will sculpt me. The people i meet will teach me.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Flu bug.

Can you spot the Pesther?

I'm soooo sick. the worst body aches, pounding headaches, and there's this weird pressure behind my eyeballs and my facial pressure monitoring system is alerting me of the imminent geyser-like explosion of my head.

Normal people take Theraflu or Robitussin.

I drink half a bottle of red wine with xanax. My theory is that if i knock out, then i won't feel the pain. And on my way out, at least i can enjoy the woozy ride. Ok, genius. *idiot voice* I woke up at 4am, then 6am, then 8am in the worst pain ever. My armpits, ribcage, neck, back, thighs, calves, abdomen, and even my freakin face were throbbing. I couldn't even take Mimi outside to pee because i could hardly move.

Now, i'm taking Theraflu! I hate how it's warm going down, not unlike liquor. i hate that part about liquor. no pain no party, right?

Speaking of liquor...tonight is our girlfriend Annie Chang's farewell party. She's moving back to the City of Angels--befitting for her, because she actually LOOKS like an angel. I'll probably do the recap tomorrow because Astrid is normally too drunk to function the day after a monsoon.


Monday, October 19, 2009

i'll be good for you and you'll be good for me...

I was at a Weezer concert and I swear to you, at "goddamn you half-japanese girls, you do it to me e-ver-y time" Rivers Cuomo waved hi at me. I almost fainted. And then I got kicked in the head by a crowd surfer.
I wonder how wonderful it would be to crowd surf. Floating on hundreds of people you don't even know....wait a second... all those hands on you touching you everywhere...hmm...i retract that. Nevertheless, it'd be awesome to leap into a sea of people, eventually finding my own two feet on solid ground. I've always wanted to be a lead singer in a band. Can i scream? yes. Can i wear punctured tights and tattered rags like courtney love? definitely. Can I abuse substance? *looks to the left and the right frantically* for my art, yes. And since this dreamjob seems so far-fetched, what's the next best thing? Date a musician. So, my dear readers, this winter i will find myself a musician and promptly date him. Lickety-split. Winter is for rawkin out and attending Christmas parties and socializing--shouldn't be too hard, right? ;)

Chiclet teeth. Blue eyeshadow. Bardot hair. Bangs. <3.
It's a brilliant day in Perimeter! Astrid and I are hard at work watching Ramen Girl on dvd and burning a mixtape for our friend. Such hard work, whew! Today i have to do laundry, return dvds, make a grocery list, go to the post office, and go to the bookstore.

To be cont'd.

3:35pm. Astrid and i are still making our brazilliant mixtape tentatively titled, "Tunes of the Raccoons." It is, duh, a masterpiece. Eat your heart DJ blahblahblah. We're the new brats in town.

Text messages.

Liz: I'm gonna shower, get dressed, and leave the house soon.

Challs: Where you think ure going u lil booger.

Liz: Gotta return the dvds and go buy a Chanel bag with your credit card.

Challs: Haha, you're silly.

Liz: [no text reply...challs indubitably growing wary.... a five minute break in communication]

Challs: Put my cc back in the drawer. I don't trust u with it. Esp with ur sis cause ure a nabbunsekki. [evil brat]

Liz: NO! i don't have to listen to ur sh** no mo! punka**b*tch. Why don't you come and make me!

Challs: It's ok i have a better idea. i'm going to call the creditor and freeze the account. so if you try to use it you will be declined hahaha and then i will come and c*cksmack the sh** out of you


Challs: Waa waaa

Liz: I hate u! i gotta hurry up and speed race to saks so i can buy a bag before you freeze it!

Challs: Too late, it's frozen. no chanel for you.

Liz: UNDO IT!!!

Challs: i told them to specifically watch for 2 blonde asians.


A day in the life... of Sid and Nancy...

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Stream of Consciousness

I'm sitting in my mum's room. There's one part of my mum's room that's comprised of 6 floor-to-ceiling windows, so we're drinking up the sun like pho to synthesis. They don't make houses like this anymore - ours was designed in the 80s and previously owned by a major drug dealer. I'm sure i could find kilos and bodies in the yard and in the well if i really wanted to. Yes, we have a well and yes, it does look like The Ring. But our family house is a whole nuther post. It's an amazing story filled with druglords and violence and helicopters and the feds.

My sister's curled up in one of my mum's beds with Princess Mimeisters. It's Sunday and it's beautiful. How come it always seems like Sundays are blazingly gorgeous? In a totally unrelated note: I had a piece of big red today. U know what big red reminds me of? Making Out. I used to make out with this guy that always tasted like cinnamon. I dont think he was the best kisser but he always tasted so good. Isnt it strange how memories eventually fade, but there's always a lingering idea of someone/something that stays stores away in the back of your brain that gets reborn from just a specific taste? I love collecting things to make memories. It's usually an article of clothing or a sovuvenir I "borrowed". HAHA. I have a box in my room of items that remind me of stories, people, things that I don't ever want to forget. Did you know that a goldfish has the memory span of 3 seconds? That's me. That was totally unrelated, also.

Anyway, today we're going to my gramma's house for dinner. For some reason, everything is always extra good over there. Galbi is not just ordinary galbi at my grammas house. *rubs belly in ciruclar motion* I can't wait.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

I really pity Hugh Hefner's girlfriends. They're always like, "I fell in love with Hef because he has the greatest personality..." And they're so dumb they don't even know how to conceal the tell-tale signs of lying while they're saying it--the biting of the lips, the darting eyes. I can understand a couple like Heidi Klum and Seal and maybe even Christina Aguilera and that jewish man who looks like a bat. I think it's endearing in all its physically mismatched glory. Heidi Klum has said in interviews that she was smitten with Seal upon first glance when he was wearing tight gym clothes. Big shlong, understandable. And Christina Aguilera says her batman knows how to make her happy. So maybe he, like, hangs upside down or something and makes faces. Christina has weird taste. Understandable. But i cannot excuse Hefner's girlfriends. Unless there's some sort of sexual perversion i'm not aware of that's akin to pedophilia except with old people...geriophilia. Alls i know is: it's so sad seeing Hef hobbling around lookin all gummy and dropping in on the girls' magazine photoshoots acting like he even gets horny, like, EVARR. So sad, so sad. He aged a LOT.

That being said, my favorite gf has always been Holly. She is, after all, the prettiest.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Drink up baby, stay up all night.

I woke up this morning, thinking, "was it all a dream?" And then I rub carefully dab my spiderlashed eyes to look at my room, absolutely littered with sequins and beaded mini dresses and fur. My suitcase has dramatically exploded with shoes, and seemingly barfed out my leopard trench in a sad little pile. I look at my hands and notice a broken thumbnail. Bits and shards of playback and flashes of memory shoot through my brain like electroshocktherapy.

The scene is Butter, Alex Guarnaschelli's restaurant by day and a posh nyc hotspot by night. It is a brisk night. We are sleepwalking for just minutes before, we had been kittynapping.

Cue me:
Cue nalee: "OK!" *chomping on my nail.* what a good friend.

Cue my sister as i am rigorously typing this on my macbook (she is eating two or three puddings in one sitting like a cow): "What is oxycontin actually prescribed for? and What are xanys good for besides increasing the effect of alcohol? i only know these drugs in terms of how to abuse them..."
Back to the story.
I feel like a cocktail: 1/4th exhausted, 1/2 sad to have left behind the bright lights of the city, and 1/4th relieved at the cease and desist with the blackouts. I forgot how much I love New York: the smells, the people, the crazy cab drivers, the endless array of quirky bars and lounges, and late night pigging out. As the plane hit the runway, I felt a surge of excitement zipping through me from head to toe. I've come to the conclusion that New York is a place where a part of me will always be. Somewhere between the bars, I've left behind a little sequined snippet of the fabric of ME!, and I'll always be haunting an innocent inhabitant's soul. If they're lucky.

Back to my haphazard recap.

So it started like this--Nars and I missed our flight on Thursday. Basically, my sister had been helping me pack with post its and polaroids and the whole shebang...and we lost track of time. Sidenote: we always pack with post its. it's the only way. saves time and effort during the trip. but even for me, I think i went a little bit overboard this time. I mean, who needs 6 pairs of heels for a weekend? Yeah, so we missed our flight. We were facing the horrifying possibility of not making it to NY that night. The delta rep we spoke to seemed extremely pessimistic. ALL flights to JFK and LGA were booked and there was no room on the next two flights out. I was beginning to think that the gods didn't want me in the city. We decided to check the kiosk anyway to see if anything had opened up..*drumroll please* 22B and 23B are open! I guess it was meant to be after all! The fates smile on me.

Thursday Night: We arrived and cabbed it to a Alex's place. Dressed up. Decided to head out to Meatpacking. Went to Sea and the patron kept flowing all night long. I saw friends I hadn't seen in 3+ years. We split up and scurried to Ktown's Circle with Seung & Donald. KunJip is a staple in my Ny adventures. During our 4 day stint in NY we HAD to travel upstate to CT to see B and my nephew Dylan. We got back around 330 and decided to catch the 535am Train to CT. "Should we sleep?" Sure why not. Epic fail. Did not make it to Connecticut.

Chapter One. "Atl is coming...hide the gfs." -vicky

Friday, since we failed at waking up and making it to Grand Central at dawn, I took Nars to Dylan's Candy Bar. This is the happiest place on earth. If i were ever in the depths of despair, I'd run away to Dylans and live in the basement next to the fudge stand. Serendipity's hot chocolate shakes are also a staple. Nars is the funniest travel companion. She orders something, decides that the table next to us has ordered a bigger, badder dessert and is convinced SHE MUST HAVE IT! If i don't stop her and intervene, she will undoubtedly have a table full of desserts she will half nibble. We went back to Soho and had ten fashion orgasms apiece at Topshop. I have never seen so many beautiful dresses. If I were ever to have my own store, it would look exactly like Topshop: loud, in-your-face, and gaudy. I walked in and walked out completely changed from head to toe. That night, I wore my beautiful pink vintage beaded flapper dress to a house party that was SUPPOSED to be a pre-gaming session but that ended up being a 7-hr debauchery binge.

Chapter Two. "You Need Limes or Lines?"

Our 7-hr debauchery binge led to us not going to bed. At all. This might sound absurd, but we were really antsy and HAD to go to Connecticut. At 5am, we cabbed it to Grand Central and were New Haven bound. I am normally a stickler for dressing up, especially for important visits (and i really, really wanted to look pretty seeing my nephew for the first time). But i was totally incapable. Nalee wore doctor scrubs and sweatshirt and i wore basketball shorts and flipflops that were 3 times too big. Blair would be so disappointed. Sandals aren't shoes!
Saturday Morning: Homeless chic in CT at 7am, B and Dylan. After seeing how hard it is to be a mom and how much love, patience, and knowledge goes into motherhood, i don't think i could be a mom right now. Everybody wants a mini me. And seeing how beautiful Dylan is in person, the idea of raising a child that's exactly like you and a part of you like's a beautiful thought for me to entertain, but it ends there. A thoughtlet. I'm too selfish right now to have a child. And after seeing B and Dylpickle, it appalls me even more to see young moms who i know damn well should not be moms, be moms.

Saturday Night: The Wedding, the ridiculous girl who made the "gochu" comment. She killed me. So. ridiculous. i think she basically ruined the reception. After the wedding, Nalee and I zipped to the Lower East Side to meet up James and his friends at Los Feliz (a vampire lair that specializes in tequila). We sipped a scrumptious hibiscus drink - presumably their version of True Blood? Afterwards we went to Happy Ending (ex whore house in Chinatown). I'm so proud that my friend James has not been polluted by success and his inner sweet-tempered nature impaired by the MMA lifestyle. Sadly, i did not get to say goodbye to him because i had a full-blown panic attack inside Happy Ending and had to rush out. So sorry, James! :( Where is Elliot and his xanax stash when i need it??? I should have taken some of my sister's. Damn Challs and his contagious panic attacks! I wasn't feeling too well so we went back to Alex's place to recharge and lo and behold he's hosting a house party. We walked in wonderfully smashed and said our hellos and kissed ppl on the cheeks and decided that after a night of no sleep and a morning of riding trains and babysitting and an evening of barhopping, we needed a kittynap. So here we are, a party going on outside and Nars and i shut up in the bedroom in our black minidresses curled up in fetal mazzaballs as we kittynap! WAKE ME UP IN 30!

Chapter Three. Butter, Donald's chocolate cookie, Iron Chef New York, Hungover in Soho, and Kiki de Montparnasse.

Why is it that there are some guys who turn a sickly purplish shade, look like their faces are going to tuhj [explode], and start mouthbreathing when they drink? Maybe they should just... not drink. Anyways, after our kittynap, we left Alex's houseparty for Butter. Nalee and i felt like zombies because our bodies were still in sleep-mode. But as soon as the music started bumpin and the patron started pouring we were at our A game again. So much so that we blacked out in about an hour. But i don't feel so bad because apparently everybody blacked out and nobody remembers going home.

I only have shards of memories from when we got back to the house. For those of you who black out from drinking, you will understand this strange occurrence. Blackouts are something akin to glimmers of experience that you know happened but can't really say you experienced because it's like an out of body experience. Then there are the parts that are absolutely nonexistent. Those parts scare me because i have to get someone to fill in the blank. I remember being a judge for Iron Chef New York: Battle Egg as Nalee and Chung cooked their hearts out. Before that, i think i remember a game of cards? i dunno. After Iron Chef, i took an oxycontin and tried to go to sleep. However, i slept in patches. i thought oxycontin was supposed to be oxyawesome. Nein. =(

On Sunday morning, i was beyond hungover. I was drunkover. We stumbled around Soho and got pho. I guess pho is the universal drunkover food. Afterwards, since i owed Donald something sweet, we went to Eileen's and got cheesecake. It's too thick and creamy. Speaking of creamy, we went to Kiki. It's like a hard-edged Victoria's Secret with crystal dildos galore. Lovedit. We went back home, packed, watched a bit of Battle Royale (only the sickest Japanese movie ever, but what Japfilm isn't) hopped in a car and off to JFK we went. i loves JFK!

And here i am. Atlanta, home sweet home. the party and patron is slowly seeping out of my pores. i still have unpacking to do. I spent the entire day vegetating with my sister, grocery shopping, watching tv, and giving her the detailed play by play. She is the only one who knows all my secrets. And of course, you, my dear reader, know a lot more about me than the average person i come across in everyday life.

Friday, October 9, 2009

Sleepful in Atlanta

So while my sister is off in the City that Never Sleeps with Nars having wild times and shopping their hearts out, i'm in Atl taking care of my dogs and cooking dinners for my brothers. and sleeping all the time. :(

My mom is in Korea having a blast and she called me yesterday saying she's probably heading to Jeju Island or Pusan in a few days for a mini vacay with her friend. I can imagine what she's doing now. Maybe eating caviar at the President Hotel. I love lunch at the President Hotel in Euljiro Il ga. My sister, mother, and i would leave my uncle's house in Hongdae early together, part ways, and rendezvous later at that hotel to sip hot tea and eat spoonfuls of caviar and tiny tea cakes that look like they should say EAT ME on them, alice in wonderland style. This is probably the first time my sister and i have missed our annual mother daughter Korea trip. It's weird. I miss Seoul now that i think about it. Maybe i should have just hopped on the plane with my mom. If i begged her, i bet she would have let me get a nose job or something. She's very liberal like that. You know, something i noticed is that most Korean moms are very liberal when it comes to plastic surgery for their daughters. They're always like SURE! GET DOUBLE EYELID SURGERY! YOU NEED IT! have u noticed that? Or maybe it's just my mom and aunts? well, i think it's gay when people are like "OMG, why would you want to get surgery, it's so bad. it's so gross. so unnatural. omg." yeah, you only say that cuz you uglay!

Anyways, tom, my sister and Nars have a wedding to attend. Se7en's manager is getting hitched in Manhattan. Astrid literally packed 4 or 5 dresses and 3 different pairs of shoes for that friggin wedding even though i told her, "you're probably going to end up buying something up there, anyway!"

Well, i have to go now. Tootleloo.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

They All Went to Heaven in a Lil Rowboat....

what we saw looking out our plane window. heaven! and miami intl.

then Turks and Caicos and the Bahamas and finally the lush tropical greenery of the DR.

We got back from the Dominican Republic and it was a LOT to handle. We are still suffering from Vacation Hangover and are supposed to go to NYC in 2 days. Dilemma. It's like one of those weird're so excited while you're there, thinking WOW this is gonna go on our blog! Wow, we have to talk about that... and then... KABLAM! you get back to the real world, and you don't want to share. anything. it's just overload.

Things to Know about the Caribbean islands in general.

1. Don't drink the pina coladas. they'll make you gain like five pounds - HELLO! coconut milk!

2. You'll always need antibacterial wipes.

3. Don't ever take your camera to the beach. It will be destroyed. We buried our camera after ONE FRIGGIN DAY. hence, the lack of pictures and outfit changes. *sob*

4. At most resorts, it's about 85% eurotrash. Everybody is topless. We felt so liberated sunbathing in the nude. *NOTE: there are pictures! but those are on our crappy overpriced disposable camera which will be scanned later!

5. Apparently, you can get arrested for asking around to score at certain resorts. Only ask the young troublemaker looking busboys/servers/bartenders. ;) And that's all i have to say about that.

6. Tipping goes a long way. Seriously. don't bring any bills larger than a 5.

7. I don't care if you're a strictly heels person, BRING A PAIR OF FLATS. it means a lot coming from me, because
ugh, i hate thong sandals. As the great Blair says, "Sandals are NOT shoes!" But you gotta make an exception here, trust!

1. The look on Charlie's face when a big-breasted Eurotrash woman comes up to him and says, "Hey, that's MY seat!" (uhh... *not looking at bewbs* uhh.. *not looking at bewbs* okay... *hobbling away*)

2. Challs making the disgusting comment, "HOLY SH** LOOK AT HER TITS, SHES SMOKIN!" and my sister turning to see that he's pointing to.... a topless 7-yr-old girl. HAHA!!! Such a goofball, that challs.

3. Eric leaving the perfect sun and beach to run back inside to check the football score. All the way in Punta Cana, football still takes immediate priority in life. lol.

4. Getting smashed at the beach on El Presidentes and tipsy in the pool on screwdrivers.

5. Being somewhere that beautiful with people who are like family.

All the Pix from DAY ONE ===> HERE

Annnnnnd..... THANK YOU LONDON!!!!

Saturday, October 3, 2009

25 Little Things You Do That Guys Secretly Love

Men name your most bewitching quirks and adorable habits. Why do they like this stuff? No clue, but the message is clear: When you're with him, be yourself. Totally, completely, sometimes even bizarrely yourself.

"Sometimes when we're hanging out alone at home, my normally serious fiancée will run at top speed across a room and jump into my arms. No explanation, just a full-on leap and straddle. I love it." — Dave Hepburn, 32, Nassau, Bahamas

"She does an I-have-been-fed dance after I cook a good meal." — Kurt Harfmann, 28, Boynton Beach, Fla.

"She's sentimental in a wonderfully specific way: Romantic dramas full of heartache and strife don't elicit a single tear, but Wall-E gets her crying every time." — Christopher Mize, 29, New York City

"I love how her underwear and bra always have to match. Like, always. Even when all we're doing is going to the corner store." — Jarrod Holland, 34, Wilmington, N.C.

"My wife tucks her PJs under her pillow in the morning. Whenever I strip the sheets from the bed to do laundry, I find at least 10 T-shirts and five pairs of pajama bottoms wedged between the bed and the wall. I could get annoyed — especially since the T-shirts are usually mine — but it is such an endearing routine that I have to laugh." — Billy Mann, 26, Hoboken, N.J.

"I get a kick out of how my girlfriend meticulously indexes all of her songs in iTunes, including artists, full song titles, album cover art, song lyrics, songwriters, genre, year released and on and on." — B.J. Puttbrese, 27, Nashville, Tenn.

"Whenever there's a thunderstorm, she leads me into the bedroom and asks me to lie down with her and just listen." — Kenji Jasper, 34, Atlanta

"I travel a lot for work. When I come home from a trip, I often find that my fiancée has been wearing whatever sweater or sweatshirt I had on before I left, no matter how oversize it is on her petite frame. It's her way of staying close to me when I'm away." — Kevin Feyen, 34, Danville, Calif.

"When my wife gets hot chocolate with whipped cream on top, she takes two coffee stirrers and uses them like chopsticks to eat all of the cream before she even thinks about taking a sip." — Chris Hermosilla, 29, Lincoln Park, N.J.

taken from Glamour Mag...