Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Thrills, Kills, & Sunday Pills

Over the weekend ~out of sheer curiosity~ I scampered into an old renovated bank building on Spring Street in downtown LA.  A beautiful building.  I was totally drawn to it.  
An hour later I leapt out from behind the gated doors like a gazelle and did an impromptu pirouette with a huge smile on my face and a signed lease agreement in my bag.  Talk about impulse buy. So now after 2 nomadic months, i finally have a place that's all my own and somewhere to put myself and six boxes of clothes.  I guess i'm no longer a gypsy living out of a 4runner.  I have my own little asylum:  my brand new peapod!  I immediately fell in love with the space.  It's cozy, vibrant, colorful, and surrounded by action!  And without thinking logically or feeling the slightest afraid of commitment, I signed on the dotted line without looking...kinda like Ariel did on Ursula's contract!  She's got legs!  and because i love you readers so much, i even took out my camera and snapped some quick pix for u all.  <3
the lobby

my hallway

my front door (u didn't think i'd show you my addy, didja? ^_^)

where i notsleep at night...

my el bano

where i not-cook and microwave stuffs...

living room-y area i guess

where i stash my clothes and stuffs
 my sink and bathroom again...cuz i love the color.

How very grown up and at the same time totally childish of me!  My sister yelled at me over the phone shortly after because I went alone... and signing leases is one of the things on our list of adult activities that totally and utterly requires supervision.  But it felt amazing afterwards.  It felt electric!!!  Now I'm really stuck in LA, unless I intend on becoming a fugitive and fleeing from my landlord...which does sound kinda fun...doesn't it??!! Anyone want to be my Clyde for the summer?

Work continues to be long hours, but I don't mind it at all.  The routine: breakfast at urth caffe, the warehouse till 7, dinner at yougurtland...oh!  Here's the cute building right across from my work that i see everyday.  I like looking at it so much i decided to snap it while on my smoke break.  Isn't it cute as a button?
So!  Now that my home is set, time to hunt down the boys!  *wiggles eyebrows*

BTW, Dokemon says that love 'n marriage and having babies is all about the science of producing genetically superior babies. Maybe this is a guy mentality?  Is this why all the really super cool, bad boy-esque dudes tend to end up with the plain janes??  Because they want to make superior babies??  cuz the crazies like us (me and my sis) have wrecked our bodies and would spurt out sexyzombies?
Dokemon EDIT!!!:  BTW, Dokemon says that love 'n marriage and having babies is all about the science of producing genetically superior babies. Maybe this is a guy mentality? [FALSE, this is not a guy mentality, rather the understood objective] Is this why all the really super cool, bad boy-esque dudes tend to end up with the plain janes?? [Also false, what really happens is the girls realize there is no future or benefit to being with bad boys and it's actually a waste of time. This is also induced by the biological clock most women experience. Bad Boys just continue to maintain the status quo until it's too late. so the hotties grab the "decent" selection or go all out and get a stable nerd. then the plain janes who always wanted to try out a bad boy latches on. it's all timing.]  Because they want to make superior babies?? [FALSE, They have no concept of genetics, or superior babies, they just wanna be bad.] cuz the crazies like us (me and my sis) have wrecked our bodies and would spurt out sexyzombies? [...way to stay positive.]

PS: I miss my mums.  I wonder how she's doing in Seoul.  Last i heard, my sis says that she has totally forgotten about Atlanta and doesn't even call anymore...even to check up on the Mimz.  ABANDONED!

PPS:  i cannot wait til my sister flies over here to fix up my place.  She's got a knack for interior design, it's true. 

PPPS:  updated playlist for the Dead of Summer.
  1. Broken Social Scene - Stars and Sons
  2. Minipop - Precious
  3. School Of Seven Bells - My Cabal
  4. School Of Seven Bells- Half Asleep
  5. School of Seven Bells - Windstorm
  6. Immoor - Bows And Arrows

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Steve Martin Rider

I love, LoveLOVE sarcastic old men with their ascerbic wit and dry humor.  The crabbier the better.  The fatherless girl in me loves the shit out this type of man.  i mean i worship them.  God, i love Steve Martin.  He is in my list of hottie older men along with Harrison Ford, Alec Baldwin, Gary Oldman, Jeff Bridges, and a couple others i can't think of right now... i'll update this list later.  But anyway, it doesn't help that he's funny as hell.  He SLAYS ME!

"A day without sunshine is like, you know, night."

"Don't have sex man. It leads to kissing and pretty soon you have to start talking to them."

"Hosting the Oscars is much like making love to a woman. It's something I only get to do when Billy Crystal is out of town."

"I believe that sex is one of the most beautiful, natural, wholesome things that money can buy. " 

“I believe in eight of the ten commandments; and I believe in going to church every Sunday unless there's a game on.”  


Did you guys see this thing on Perezhilton?  The tour rider (list of demands) for Steve Martin's band (The Steep Canyon Rangers) is HIGHLARRYUS.

One (1) brand-new Super Trooper spotlight for Steve; One (1) broken Super Trooper spotlight for Steep Canyon Rangers.

Staff must be immediately identifiable to load-in crews and Artists by wearing jackets and T-shirts clearly marked "SECURITY."  All security staff must carry blankets and pacifiers and be prepped to offer hugs and comforting pats, in case Artists are feeling vulnerable.

Instruments must be tuned by a wiry, sarcastic guy named Shorty, Lou, or Lightnin'.

Artists' musical instruments (fiddles, banjos, mandolins, etc) must be guarded by at least one hostile-looking, biggish guard who tells repellently boring stories.

One (1)  designated runner to liaise with sound, lighting, production staff, artists, and security.  Must speak English, but not the type when asked "How are you?" that responds, "I'm WELL, thank you..."

One (1) waterproof guyliner
One (1) clipped-out Allure article on "a smoky eye"

Nothing constricting or scratchy, except for Steve's thong

Beginning two (2) hours prior to performance, Steve's dressing room must have a new trophy delivered every ten (10) minutes.  Suggested trophies include "Most Beloved", "Best Show of the Year", "Best Musician".  Creativity encouraged (Steve starting to get bored with these).

  • One (1) platter of cold cuts (ham, turkey, roast beef, all pref. bluish)
  • Six packs of any canned beverage, for Steve to compare his abs to
  • Twelve (12) coconuts, hollowed out and split in two, for the musicians' "bras".
  • One (1) whole roasted chicken for Steve to use as dancing puppet
  • Tray of iceberg salad
IMPORTANT NOTE:  Iceberg must come from Scandinavia, Canadian, or Russian Arctic.  Artists do NOT like taste of Antarctic icebergs.  Beverage service must include thoughtful assortment of bendy straws.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Father's Day

On Father's day, my brother wanted to treat my Uncle (and Grampa) to dinner somewhere that's not Golden Corral (my grandparents favorite) or Golden Buddha [Geum Buhl] in Decatur (the best Chinese restaurant in Atlanta, where we have been going since i was like 3).  So we went to Iron Age [Chulgi Shidae] which is this popular Korean pork belly restaurant.  Now, anyone who knows me knows that i don't touch pork belly, even with a chopstick, because it looks like something that came out of a lipo vacuum.  I don't even like galbi which is like the god of all Korean foods.  I find galbi too chewy and cartilagey to eat and pork belly -- dude, it's just huge slabs of unsmoked bacon.  How sick is that?  I dry heave just thinking about the fat to actual meat ratio per slab which is somewhere in the ballpark of 20:1/2.  Anyways, we drank soju and ate and were merry hobbitses.  Since Gayoung (my cousin) and i were sitting directly across from my grandparents, we had to turn and face the rest of the population in the restaurant to take our shots and we probably looked like rude little pigs, but my grandma doesn't mind cuz she's so used to us drinking by now, and my poor grandpa can hardly see.  After dinner, we went back to my grandparents' house and Gayoung busted out her hookah.  (Apparently, a smoke shop opened up next to Regal Medlock and you're not allowed to say "bong" or "bowl" inside or you're outta there!)  She set it up and we smoked mint flavored tobaccer.  I'm no expert, but i'm pretty sure that a hookah is basically a bong.  It was a lot of fun, i have to say.  I don't smoke cigarettes, so at first i was kinda worried that i'd cough and it'd hurt my lungs, but my uncle explained that there's no tar and probably no nicotine.... so it was kinda fun pretending like i was; i reverted back to smoking pretzel sticks in middle school, imitating the film noir heroines that wear fedoras w/ feathers and leave red lipstick marks on their skinny cigs.  We chatted lazily around the mosquito repellent candle and sipped beers and passed the hookah and my uncle revealed that he's never snorted anything before in his life.  lol!  we were like, "cocaine?" and he goes, "no, tobacco.... snuff."  So this whole time, i thought snuff was cocaine, but i guess it's not.  You learn something new everyday....

Saturday, June 19, 2010

There's a reason they call us Hotlanta. It's well over 100degrees by 11am and rising by late afternoon; after the sun goes down, steam rises from the black asphalt and red Georgia clay and condenses into the atmosphere, swirling cool breezes all over the place creating a weird chill; i have to throw a wrap on at night when i walk the dogs.  So basically, it's like English Patient weather.

  On my off days, I've been sunbathing by the swimming pool under the blazing sun. I did my front side yesterday and my backside today.  I can't lay out more than 1.5 hrs at a time despite taking frequent cooling dips into the pool because i start having mirages of palm trees and oil.  Now i'm toootally sun poisoned on both sides. (dizzy, nauseous, freezing cold, in sooo-oooo much pain from the burns).  but it's nothing.  the worst sun poisoning i ever had was after boating all day on Lake Lanier. i almost had to go to the emergency room because i was in so much pain despite pain killers.  I had no idea i was getting fried like a slab of bacon on a griddle because the breeze hits you and the water cools you and you feel so-oo comfortable. And you fall asleep on the deck and nobody warns you because one can't hear humans sizzling nor smell humans burning like one can bacon.

Anywhoos, lately i've been considering getting rid of my circle lenses and getting regular human ones.  Today at the pool, some girl asked me how old i was and when i answered 27, she looked stunned and admitted, "i've seen you walking the little pomeranian and i thought you were 19 or something."  (I kinda took it as a compliment and beamed at her.)  I think ppl assume i'm younger than 27 because of my circle lenses.  As you probably already know, circle lenses are iris enlarging contact lenses that make you appear doe-eyed and innocent-ish.  Like Bambi and Puss In Boots.  Since i've decided to break out of my Peter Pan Syndrome, i need to look adultier.  And that is the truthyness (Stephen Colbert, my hero).  So i am going to the eye doctor and getting regular lenses soon.  By the way, i lost my chicken cutlets / stickies.  That's why i never have cleavage or giant boobs because i can't find them.  DARN!  Oh well. 

*EDIT!* I got my hair done today and here it is!  I had majah roots growing in and i went to my sister's hairdresser who is the sweetest cutest girl in the world.  She got me coffee, crackers, and 5 magazines!  AND she didn't make me have a conversation with her while she was foiling away.  (i like closing my eyes and going to sleep).  The chemicals singed off a huge chunk of my hair and it looks like i got a major haircut.  But it's ok, because it singed it off in layers.

Ta Ta,
LizStarsnStripes (my aim handle from the 90s)

Friday, June 18, 2010


I lost my apartment key last weekend due to an insane bender. Aaaand so.  Instead of always watiting around for my roommate to magically appear whenever I feel like going home, I've been sleeping at Eunice and Renee's. This chick is soooo angelic and sweet, she's unreals.  Her cartoonieness reminds me of my sister, so of course I've always been drawn to her. Thanks to her, Tuesday night was the first time I've slept in a bed in AGES and let me tell ya...HEAVENLY!! I was greeted with a bottle of Champagne and huge hugs. All in all, Tuesday night began with the bubbly and ended with beer @ nrb and me stumbling home with my friends to their place in the wee hours of the morning.

I was a cocktail, a smorgasborg of wastedness the next day at work.  Everyone knows that working in apparel is a bitch = long hours, low pay, super competitive....etc. etc. but i do my best and work hard and stay after, too, just to show the boss i mean business.  That morning, I was trying so hard to be on my A game...UNTIL lunch...were I spent an hour puking in the bathroom. oh tres chic. 

Anyway, after my barf fest, i proceeded to remain a little bit drunk all day until after work, when the hangover kicked into full effect.  HOWEVERS, that didn't stop me from shimmying over to Katsuya to kill some time while waiting for Cindy and Renee to join me.  Thanks to my good friend from middle school (James), who, if you remember, i totally dipped out on while partying in NYC due to a severe anxiety attack (i'm still sorry, James), I got tickets to an MMA Fight.  Wicked Cool, btw!  The venue was overflowing with a sea of men...HAHA seamen...and a good majority were delicious too!! After oogling, our group proceeded to go to Lucky Strike.  NOT to bowl, but to shoot pool and drink cos that's what you're supposed to do...right?!?! 
The night ended at nrb..again. How come all roads end at nrb?!!

So u can probably already tell that it's been tough being a blue jean baby LA lady, gypsying it out with no permanent residence - just everything piled into the back of a 4runner...but when life gives you lemons... you grab a cute peeler and garnish your martini glass with a lemon peel.  right?

I’ve been walking through life backwards.  And although it’s been scary at times, not being able to see in front of me, I wouldn’t change it for the world.  People have always been telling me that I should tone everything down: makeup, hair, personality etc.  The comments I’ve been getting lately are all related to me not being able to find a mate due to current mindset/attitude/look. Sheesh.

But! I've found some single angelic gal pals here in the city of angelic ppls, so there's no need for a man at this point!  Besides, I think it's my mission in life to matchmake my friends... that's what makes me so happy.  

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Something i will never understand is why white people flop onto bed with their shoes on.  It grosses me out.  Their beds are so neatly made with 20 pillows of all different sizes and their disgusting converses are on.  i mean, it triggers my stomach flutter and the onset of a mini panic attack.  Do you know how filthy that is?  Think of the places those shoes have been... gas station restrooms, sewage water, dusty sidewalks, GUM, people's spit.  I feel sick. 

I guess i have weak nerves.  I also become faint and turn blue when i see a chef on Top Chef or Chopped slice their hands on the food processor blades or their knives.  That makes me totally sick.  I'd rather watch someone get shot.  I also cannot stomach any of the Saw movies or anything with gore.  Artsy gratuitous violence i can handle.  Reservoir Dogs, Inglourious Basterds, Kalifornia.  I Lovesthat.

Another random note:  i wear Keds everyday.  every single day.  it's like i dont own any other shoes.  heels are only for going out, i guess.  and my keds are sparkling white.  because i throw them in the washer.  after removing all the laces.  and i also wear pigtails everyday.  i am totally going through a midlife crisis where i think i'm 12.

Anywhos, Astrid is at an MMA fight in LA right now and is bbming me the deets.  Kewlbeans!  But what would i GIVE to go to a UFC fight.  i would love that!  What the hell is MMA?  Is that like the minor leagues of UFC? 

Random fb pic...
Ok gonna go now... you dont have to know why... i have stuffs to dooos.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Fond Foodie Memories

The Best shrimp cocktail i've ever had:  Prime One Twelve in Miami.  I remember handling them with a fork and knife.

The Best tuna tataki i've ever had?  Katsuya Hollywood...(i went here recently with my sis and some friends...i couldn't take my eyes of a certain stage who kept fckg up the rolls by not rolling them tightly enough.  is it wrong to think any korean girl who can make kimbap can make sushi?  it's the same thing.  oh, but our hands have the wrong pH and are too warm, blah blah.  then i'll stick my hands in the freezer and then some acid and THEN poof!  roll'em perfectly.)

The Best king crab legs i've ever had?  Rustic Inn, Ft. Lauderdale (they are the size of my arms as in not wrists, not forearms, but ARMS.  kind of unappetizingly big.  hence my reasoning for making someone else crack and remove all the meat so i can eat it with my fingers all happily.)

The Best ice cream i've ever had?  a shop in Ghirardelli Square in San Francisco.  vanilla.  HATES chocolate.

The Best steak?  Kevin Rathbun Steak...ok, i have to be honest here... being from Atlanta, i'm supposed to say Rathbun, but i actually like STONY RIVER BETTER!  SHHH!

The Best burger i've ever had?  I've never been to In N Out but i'm sure it's glorious, blahblahblah.  I'd have to say Fuddruckers because i can pile it a foot high with tomatoes.

The best moment that ever occurred in a restaurant:  At Mr. Chow in Miami Beach, we were at the bar getting drinks and a woman seated at a table eating totally FAINTED and fell out of her chair SO ungracefully.  like, kerSPLAT.  everyone in the restaurant was spooked horses and alarmed.  Our party turned and looked at her nonchalantly, glanced at one another, and turned back to the bar going, "SHOTS!!!!!!"  and proceeded to get epically shitfaced.  In retrospect, i know those days were about pure excess.  i will never forget how much wanton, degenerate fun we had.  Right now, as i eat my animal crackers leg first, i reminisce the wild days that i had--the days you only experience in your late twenties.  Well actually, it happens at 3 life stages.  First during college (when you get retarded by default cuz you're a novice), then during the late twenties when it's done with Tony Montana / George Lucas / Jay-Z godless extravagance, and then again when you have a giant midlife crisis/meltdown, i guess...but most people tend to buy cars and expensive home appliances or invest in longshots, not party like they're dangling over the edge.

We used to party within an inch of our lives, and we have God to thank for not allowing us to OD cross over to the other side.  But those days are faintly dissolving like these animal legs in my belleh.  Why?  to make room for reality.  To make room for...domestication.  To accommodate the bitch.... that is maturation.  Mellow-fication.

The way i see it, people are like fruit.  Well, i am like a fruit.  I'm probably more like a strawberry that looks super juicy but in reality is super SOUR and not yet ripe.  I tend to cling to immaturity because i fear ripening because it sires the inevitableness of rotting.  But that means i will never experience the joy of being fully seasoned and sweet.  But whose joy is that anyway? Not mine cuz i'm gonna get eaten! (such has been my half-hearted pothead-like reasoning all these years).  Thus, i remain on the cusp of ripeness; forever on the brink of greatness, but never great.  Tonight, i end this Heyward'esque slump and become ripe.  *sigh*  fruit flies... take me, i'm willingly yours.

Ripened strawberry,

Ps. Challs is smoking out my bro right now on the patio while Nick and i watch Baseball Tonight.  i'm wearing this dress from Target that's Jean Paul Gaultier.  can you believe it?  JPG for TARGET.  what is this world coming to?  i hate pot.  i don't like the feeling and i never touch it... or cigs for that matter.  The only time i smoke weed is when i'm extremely drunk.  the only downers i like are pills and whiskey--tequila is my poison but i consider that an upper because it makes me hyper and bold--and i prefer uppers just like any other good Craysian (crazy asian).  But that was all from my past life.  Today i am marching toward the dumpster and fruit flies (aka real adulthood), as aforementioned. 

Sunday, June 13, 2010

It's Saturday Night, and i Feel........oh, it's morning =(

Last night, was Saturday night.  i stayed in.  As usual.
I stay in often.  I'm going through a major antisocial period.  There were a number of parties and social events i could have attended, but my social anxiety did not permit.  Plus i didn't feel too good all around.

So anyways, to make a loooong story short, i took 3 alprazolams and washed it down with a thimble of whiskey.  I was watching Weeds and playing with Meems one minute, and the next minute it was morning and i woke up in a pool of drool on the mutherfreakin couch.  I retraced my steps ie. went through the garbage and discovered that i cooked 1 jjapaghetti (korean instant ja jang mien), made French Toast (can u imagine a blacked out chick beating eggs with a fork? i must have talent), Meems peed on the ground cuz my drug addled ass couldn't take her out, and my fake lashes were bent like gnarly little spiders.  I felt like a loser and worse... felt the hot, glaring intervention spotlight on me, Elizabeth Park.  Blacking out gives you a sinking feeling in the morning, like finding out you've made a terrible mistake or... that you've forgotten a totally crucial item that was on your grocery list and now you gotta go back.

Ok, so it's WAY worse.  But anyways, it was the first time i blacked out on pills.  I don't think i should do that again.  No wonder my mom wouldn't leave them with me!  so that was my Saturday night in a rapid release gelcap.  Who needs to spend a grip at the club when you can party at home..... alone.....

Now it's 10:45 pm on Sunday night and i just baked french fries and watched True Blood.  Does Sookie keep getting uglier and uglier?  Challs keeps saying "omg, she looks so much like ___" but i can't say who because ___ might read this blog.  But she really does (how unfortunate).  She is so annoying.  She's all yelpy and i want to slap her and tell her to chill out.  I'm going to hand the laptop over to Challs now so he can monitor the power rankings and scores (he bets on baseball....SHHH, totally illegal i hear) and he bets on UFC, football, and basically every sport you could possibly bet on.  Well, gotta go shower now.  buhbye.


*EDIT*  By the way, i've been getting phone calls from a Private Number, and i don't want to flatter myself by proclaiming that i have a stalker, but i DO hear heavy breathing on the other end and its hard for my pervy mind to NOT think it's some creeper jacking off.  See?  i've got a dirty mind.  But seriously, it's almost like a joke, the heavy inhaling and exhaling.  STOP it, you're being totally cliche.  

Saturday, June 12, 2010

The Wayward Cloud....warning: this post is not suitable for under 18

So i've been watching a lot of netflix instant watch crap.  I like the foreign steamy romance category.  Why?  Cuz i'm a perv. deal with it.  Last night, i saw The Wayward Cloud (2005) which is a Taiwanese indieflick directed by Tsai Ming-Liang and it was Taiwan's official entry for the 78th Academy Awards in the foreign-language category.  There is a LOT of male and female nudity.  But!  No full frontal.  Cuz female bush is ok and arrrrtsy rated R, but male penis is crass and scary and rated NC-17! 

Anyhoos, this movie is basically about a young man who is a porno actor.  There is a lot of footage of him "at work" with a bunch of crazy Taiwanese porn starlets, one of whom loses a fake eyelash during the filming of a shower scene and freaks out, stopping production so she can find her eyelash.  It hit close to home, folks.  But for the main character dude.... he only has eyes for this quiet, weird girl who is super cute but never speaks--she barely has 5 lines in the whole movie.  She lives in the same building as him.  He wants to keep his day job a secret from her.  She has an affinity for lying flat on the floor spread eagle while watching tv and drinking watermelon juice and licking watermelons like they're someone's balls.  She reciprocates the guy's feelings.  They hang out.  There's a memorable scene where they're eating crab soup together.  It's very carnal and lovely, the shadows of the two at the dinner table biting and crunching and giggling as they eat the crab.  It's one of those films that makes me feel like i'm tripping or on drugs.  In one scene, he is swimming in a water reservoir and suddenly he turns into a Britney Spearsian besequined dragon with spikes and starts singing.  That's when i realized, oh this is a musical, too.  a pervy musical in the vein of John Cameron Mitchell films like Hedwig and the Angry Inch.  I was at once confused and delighted.     

This movie makes me see watermelons (oh, and love) in a totally new way.  There is also a scene when some japanese porn star masturbates with an empty dasani water bottle and loses the cap in her cavernous punani.  But it's not all gratuitous sex and no story; for example, the scene where they finally yield to their mutual desires is strangely romantic--even tho it happens in a porno video store... it is utterly climactic--emotionally, not physically, as they don't actually do the deed.  Which brings me to the theme of this little arthouse flick.  Duh, sex and love are not always attached or symbiotic.  He bones mad hoes yet is completely lost in the weird quiet girl--who he never actually has sex with in the entire film.  In the final scene, she catches him filming a scene with a porno girl and she watches in total horror.  He is pounding this girl and locking eyes with the other, his true love.  Their emotional/spiritual connection takes both of them to a different place entirely, although physically they're completely apart in more ways than just distance...I mean, he's literally inside another girl.  But when he is about to orgasm, he pulls out of the girl and blows his load onto the one he loves, all over her face.  Shocking?  Yes.  But it's a statement on sensuality and eroticism... even love.  Love is regarded as the deepest human connection but it isn't necessarily about the act of sex.  It's more about the psychological, the non physical.  It's about yearning and ardor and ravenousness and fascination.  It's about a disgusting display of quiet devotion--something pure shown in a repulsive way as the final scene of the film illustrates.  For many years, filmmakers have explored how sex is essentially a violent thing.  Here, the director Tsai uses sex as merely a backdrop (a refreshing approach) to study love--how it can be dirty and psychotic and wild and impure--but how that is the beauty of it.

Peace and Love,
Lizbotwin's Theory of Zexual Revolution

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Last Night...

More than girls in other states (especially Southern gals), LA girls have this reputation that preceeds them: standoffish and superficial.  Basically, they're like the most exquisitely stitched, freakin flawless, FAKE designer handbags.  And if you know me, you know i'd prefer the tattered 'n worn vintage authentic bag w/ character anyday.  So it was an overwhelming delight for me last night, when I had the wonderful pleasure of meeting up Eunice and her gfs for a quick bite to eat @ Byul right after work.  (Sidenote: In my 26 years of living in Atlanta, I probably went to Galbi (Korean BBQ) Buffets about 3 times.  Since I've been in LA, I've been to these damn places about 20 times. No Mas. I mean, what the dealio? AISH.) But i didn't want to be picky and rude, so I obliged. And i'm so glad I did.  Her friends are magnetic.  They are such authentic Alexander Wang studded leather totes!  They remind me of the gang back at home, each with a distinctive personality and style.  We stuffed our faces silly, drank soju & strawberry makkulgi and laughed the time away.  A night like yesterday can't end on any ordinary note...so of course we went to NRB. Break out the REAL party favors bitches.  HAHAHA.  I'm now at Urth trying to chug as much as coffee as I can so I don't appear tired.  It's my third day at work and today's gonna be rough. It's market week in Atlanta today and LA next week...it's been super busy. My responsibilities have dramatically increased in the past...waitasecond...it's only been 3 days?!?! hmm...*scratches head*

Doesn't really matter anyway.  I love pressure of having deadlines! I love being at my beautiful cherry oak desk, stuffed with fresh office supplies and my very own computer.  

WORLD CUP is on at 4am over on the westside.  it's gonna be cuhraz.  LA LIVE. be there or be square.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Lizbotwin Here!

G'day freaks and geeks.  Tis I, your Maker.  i am reporting here from the store, as you can see.  and i've been uber MIA, yes.  summer started off with a bang with North Korea, with BP barfing all over the ocean, and with me psychotically collecting coupons--painstakingly cutting them out, storing them in a sacred holy grail ziplock bag that has a color-coordinated list written on it with the names of stores and the items i have coupons for there.  it's like motherfuggin Beautiful Mind.  remember when maximus goes into that secret hut w/ all those magazine cutouts spattered all over the walls and it's like OHHH shitttt!!!  that's what it's like inside my bag.  it's gotten to the point where it's now a sport.  i won't go to a certain store because i don't have coupons for there.  and i feel this sudden surge of victory like YES! I WIN!  cuz i didn't go to that couponless store and consequently saved 20 cents.  i'm not stingy.  i am, in one word, scarilyfanatical.  If i were in TLC, i would be the "cray cray" - (i'm thinkin that was Left Eye cuz the rapper is always the crazy one.)  i have dreams about finding awesome coupons.  an awesome coupon would be like.... one free carton of eggs.  i redeemed that one at Kroger the other day and almost had an orgasm.  (holy misplaced sexual energy like a priest.)  i used to secretly ridicule coupon cutters and consider it the gayest thing ever, but here i am hoarding them in a baggy and carrying them around in a secret compartment in my purse like it's cocaine.  i've got issues.  hep me.

My mom left for Korea yesterday and she'll be gone for over a month.  That leaves me and my brother Sam to manage the store and watch out for Nicky (adopted brother) and Mimi (pom) and Pippi (chihuahua).  So they all packed their bags--even Meems and Pipps w/ their snacks and doggiebeds and leashes and toys--and abandoned the villa (our family home on Windward Parkway).  Our family home of 5 years is on a 3-acre lot and is 7000 sq ft.  There are 7 bedrooms, 2 living rooms, 1 greenroom, and 5 full baths.  We have a brand-new finished basement that is 1200 sq ft.  it is HUGE.  We're trying to sell it because my mom doesn't want the space or land anymore.  (sidenote:  my mom once found a tortoise the size of a garbage bin lid in our yard and threw the garbage bin over it so she could show us.  5 mins later, it was GONE!  poof!  evaporated!  also, my brother once shredded a huge king snake with his John Deere.  COOL!  btw, this house used to be owned by a major drug dealer who got busted so we got it really cheap!  we ain't wealthy, mkay?  when we first moved in, my sister and i used to knock on the walls to find any leftover stash the DEA mighta missed).

So anyways, my bros left the family house to stay in a 2 bedroom apartment.  which is about the size of our finished basement.  Logical?  yes, because the apartment HAS A POOL!  WEEEEEE!!  (nicky's logic)

Something tells me it's going to be a loooong month of June. 

Peace out,
*i'm on a Weeds marathon craze*

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

The Journey: Part 1

I drove. 
I drove in Los Angeles. 

I’m pretty sure this solidifies me as a real losangel. I was about 2 hours early for my first day at my new job so I slayed some mins at my daily joint, urth caffe (BEST ESPRESSO EVARR, like seriously you guys).  It’s about 2 miles from my work so everything is gravy baby. For a while, I was seriously considering moving to New York.  I had a job lined up, outfits planned, happy hour plans made…everything! But when it came down to it, I realized that I wasn’t giving LA a chance. I hit a bump in the road and I wanted to run in the opposite direction as soon as possible.  Lesson Learned: Give every opportunity a fighting chance…whether it’s a job, a new town, a girl, or a boy…Cos at the end of the day, you want to be able to be confident that you did everything possible to make things happen…if not, you’ll regret. And regret gives you wrinkles. Majah no no.  So thanks to Mark, I can drive around and wander and explore.  Thanks to Roberto, I am doing something I’ve always wanted to do. 

Life is good. 


Work entails being swallowed up by racks and racks of beautiful clothing, swatch samples of decadent fabrics and textiles and lookbooks and all the things that makes me giddy.  It almost feels like I'm in my own closet: a sea of chiffon dresses, sequined tops, gaudy one-of-a-kind statement jewelry, baubles and accessories and italian leather shoes. I don't even care that my hours are long...because for some strange reason, I feel like I'm contributing to society. For the first time in my life, I feel like I'm doing something entirely for me.  I absorb everything that goes on around me at the office...I absorb like a sponge...but a round sponge...because squares are lame. 

i am on cloud 9.

Friday, June 4, 2010

Let Maygones be Bygones...

These pics are from last month.  In May, my sister and I had an opportunity to catch up and have a rare date night in Atlanta (that's right, i had to stop into my old stomping grounds for a couple weeks, but we'll discuss this later).  And date night with my sister is not any ordinary occasion.  We needed to blow off steam; we were on a mission. I don't believe in self pity.  And when I look up at my sister, as I have since i was a child, I'm always amazed and think how much I'd love to be just like her in certain ways.  She's experienced and gone through so much it's like a Lifetime movie; she's been through every possible horrific ordeal that one could possibly undergo at her age, but she's always come out poised; with perfect hair and etiquette. I can only pray that one day I'll be able to acquire her tenacity. That night was the most delectable, debaucherous binge.
And it was exactly what the doctor ordered.  We all have our own ways of coping, and for us - it's to smile, dust the glitter off, get dolled up and laugh into the night.  Remember my puppies, we find calm in the chaos, silence in the storm, beauty in the wreckage.  This is how it's always been; this is how it will always be.

Now i'm back in the City of Angels and swimming in a sea of uncertainty.  Someone made a comment at dinner the other night about me living in Cali on a month-to-month basis.  It made me think how crazy these past months have been: In mid-April I packed everything up in 6 boxes, bought a one way ticket, tiptoed to the end of a cliff and just jumped off. I stepped into this city without a job set in stone. I didn’t know where I’d be living. I didn’t know who I’d meet or where I’d be.  I just jumped. So back to date night with my sister.  I had to fly back to Atlanta mid-May; my head was totally messed up--i boarded a jet reeling.  May was devastating for my family and i can't speak on the matter any further, but most of the Korean Atlantan community knows.  After the storm died down somewhat, our whole family flew to San Francisco.  It was only me, my sister, and two brothers left to hold down the fort in Atlanta for some weeks.  And when our family returned, back to LA i went.

I still don’t know about my job or where I’ll be tomorrow.  I just go.  I just do.  I wouldn’t mind actually moving to Paris for a couple months either.  I imagine i'd love everything about the Parisian lifestyle: espresso, smokes, fashion, coq au vin, beautiful butter pastries to stare at, and the stench i hear about… all of it. I’ve already gone the farthest west I could possibly go.  Yet here i am, sleeping on the floor of an apartment, clothes still half-boxed, ready to pack up and travel onto the next stop of this moving caravan if need be.  It’s weird though, cos in my relationships (bfs & gfs), I am nothing BUT committed.. stationary.. reserved even!  When it comes to people, I’m all in, unless you give me a reason to be doubtful... but even then, it takes a lot for me to move on to the next. Hmm. I wonder why this is.  So basically, i'm geographically slutty?  i can move quickly and travel at the drop of a hat.  Relationally?  i'm totally devoted.

June is here.  June is so welcome.  They say that still pauses in conversations are angels passing through the room.  I'm very silent these days, hoping-just hoping-that my space and my time and my footsteps will be inundated with wings. 

Faithfully yours,