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happy holidays.
Showing posts with label rk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rk. Show all posts
Friday, December 19, 2014
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
From 1998 to 2001, I used plain simple HTML webpages to blog, and then from 2001 on I used Angelfire, then Livejournal, then the obligatory Asian-girl Xanga, a few secret collaborative blogs here and there, then Blogger (which at some point became a skeleton of a site), then Wordpress for becoming.rosekuo.org (which I took offline) before settling back on Blogspot in 2009 and have meandered my way through entries here ever since.
Lots of things bugging me about the customization (or lack thereof) that I still have to figure out- this is the first time I have read over source codes and clumsily attempted to write lines of css and such since, well, maybe 5 years ago... but I'm sure I can count on Kristan to give me her opinion of moving platforms after so long. :)
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
I am most certainly the luckiest girl in the world. No lie, y'all.
On my desk this morning:
On my desk this morning:
In my office lobby:
and when I stepped off the train:
and of course, MORE chocolate babka appeared from the best place to get babka in NYC... it never ends.
Monday, December 15, 2014
I stood up, because I needed to get in line to go home. The words tugged at me in that way that causes a struggle to pull my eyes off the page.
With swelling heart, I look out at the city that belongs to no one.
You are that city for me.
I bicycle along your highways, I tap dance down your sidewalks. I finger your starlit skies. I do cartwheels in the grassy roots of your parks and run my fingers through the branches of your flowering trees. I nestle my face into the hopeless romance you offer while tacitly shouldering the heartache you require me to bear- because, as our hearts staunchly believe, surely it will be worth it in the end. I photograph your sunsets and breathlessly awake before dawn to catch the way the sun rises across the buildings lining your horizon. I search for meaning in the silences and the pauses while also fervently abandoning myself to the noise and constant movement.
I lazily drift in and out of you, by train or by foot or by air. I watch as you fade into a chorus of lights in the distance, and with this you wink at me cleverly.
And, finally, willingly, when I return as I always do, I fold myself again into you.
“I know now that when the loving, honest moment comes it should be seized, and spoken, because it may never come again. And unvoiced, unmoving, unlived in the things we declare form heart to heart, those true and real feelings wither and crumble in the remembering hand that tries too late to reach for them.”
- Shantaram
With swelling heart, I look out at the city that belongs to no one.
You are that city for me.
I bicycle along your highways, I tap dance down your sidewalks. I finger your starlit skies. I do cartwheels in the grassy roots of your parks and run my fingers through the branches of your flowering trees. I nestle my face into the hopeless romance you offer while tacitly shouldering the heartache you require me to bear- because, as our hearts staunchly believe, surely it will be worth it in the end. I photograph your sunsets and breathlessly awake before dawn to catch the way the sun rises across the buildings lining your horizon. I search for meaning in the silences and the pauses while also fervently abandoning myself to the noise and constant movement.
I lazily drift in and out of you, by train or by foot or by air. I watch as you fade into a chorus of lights in the distance, and with this you wink at me cleverly.
And, finally, willingly, when I return as I always do, I fold myself again into you.
"I felt empty: the kind of emptiness that’s sad but not distressed, pitying but not broken hearted, and damaged, somehow, but clearer and cleaner for it. And then I knew what it was, that emptiness: there’s a name for it, a word we use often without realizing the universe of peace that’s enfolded in it— free."
- Shantaram
Wednesday, December 3, 2014
ardently
fervently
zealously
fiercely
vehemently
he works behind the coffee counter in the evenings when things are slow, when people are no longer thinking of caffeine but rather of wine and touching and winding downwards and dark corners and hushed candlelit hope.
he watches me walk in a few times a week.
today he spoke to me for the first time:
"you seem like a person who is full of fire."
"is fire a good thing?"
"of course, how could it not be? it creates warmth that spreads like wildfire."
he stood there, as did i, blinking with thought.
fervently
zealously
fiercely
vehemently
he works behind the coffee counter in the evenings when things are slow, when people are no longer thinking of caffeine but rather of wine and touching and winding downwards and dark corners and hushed candlelit hope.
he watches me walk in a few times a week.
today he spoke to me for the first time:
"you seem like a person who is full of fire."
"is fire a good thing?"
"of course, how could it not be? it creates warmth that spreads like wildfire."
he stood there, as did i, blinking with thought.
“Insomnia started early for me, but it wasn’t about not sleeping, it was about being full of other things, being too delighted to let go and drop away. I’m told that when I was little I would go to bed quite obediently, but then for a while I would sing — small person in under blankets and singing, happy to elongate the day and perhaps fond of music, I suppose, I’m not sure.”
—
A.L. Kennedy, "Insomnia"
it hasn't stopped raining yet.
it's n's birthday.
we painted the table he built.
he always has wine ready.
he readied me while i was standing at the precipice, wondering what to do with my life.
he spoke to me about two kinds of "passionate," and suggested he knew which kind i was.
then he casually poured some wine and mashed up some guacamole and let me be.
i awoke.
maybe it was the avocados. maybe it was the lime.
whatever it was, i dove.
and here i am, two years later. swimming with all i've got.
“Let them think what they liked, but I didn’t mean to drown myself. I meant to swim till I sank — but that’s not the same thing.”
- Joseph Conrad
it's n's birthday.
we painted the table he built.
he always has wine ready.
he readied me while i was standing at the precipice, wondering what to do with my life.
he spoke to me about two kinds of "passionate," and suggested he knew which kind i was.
then he casually poured some wine and mashed up some guacamole and let me be.
i awoke.
maybe it was the avocados. maybe it was the lime.
whatever it was, i dove.
and here i am, two years later. swimming with all i've got.
“Let them think what they liked, but I didn’t mean to drown myself. I meant to swim till I sank — but that’s not the same thing.”
- Joseph Conrad
“Ms. O’Brien describes her young self this way: “I was ravenous. For food. For life. For the stories that I would write, except that everything was effervescent and inchoate in my overexcitable brain.” She desired, she says, to be “drawn into the wild heart of things.””
— Edna O’Brien, Seeking the Ardent Life. O, joy! To the wild, wild heart of things!
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
weekend. filipino peanut butter, hand-pulled noodles, and then an attempt at making duck bacon.
it's winter, so butternut squash and/or yam in EVERYTHING.
also, persimmon. every day i crave persimmon.
then prosecco after three different types of tea while listening to cello concertos and heart-pounding flamenco guitar.
now THAT is what i call being well-hydrated.
Monday, November 24, 2014
notes from the weekend.
---
12 string guitars and music becoming faith itself, becoming a dimension we could stand on, and oxygen we could breathe. (more on this later)
kendrick lamar on the subway and secret smiles. tap dancers and hope.
cold hands, shaking in his arms, or maybe i was just shivering at the smell of cigarettes between lips.
throwing credit cards in the air, birthdays being the excuse.
real targets don't exist, but hearts do. so aim there, please.
deepest chocolate cake, coconut milk, claiming you don't like it but eating it anyway
and memorizing rap lyrics on the long way home.
dancing downstairs in restaurant kitchens (dear health inspectors, grade THIS).
all black everything.
creme brulee in white paper bags, plastic spoons.
sneaking bites of butternut squash straight out of the oven.
racks on racks on racks
burning my mouth,
it's worth it anyway.
the winter brings a deep feeling of isolation, even when i'm surrounded by people.
solitary
solitude
solidify
sojourn
and you are not around to hold me when the cold settles on my skin
i talk about brass and woodwind
we make jokes about things we can blow on.
lately i haven't been able to breathe enough to blow.
carry on.
the bartender breaks a glass while making the drink he bragged about. the air smells like orange slices and white teeth.
i worry about him touching my back when it is moist with the sweat from running to get to where he is. to get there faster. to see the smile in his eyes faster. life is too short to walk.
"i'm nervous to dance with someone who dances so well."
"how do you know i dance?"
"i've never seen you walk anywhere. you never walk, you dance across the room and down sidewalks."
late night concerts and hands on waists. beer spilled on my jeans. he bought us a round to apologize.
the crowd throbbed and smiled together.
long train rides. legs on legs on legs. looking into eyes. breaking rules.
arguing about the existence of wild turkeys in Taiwan.
time is relative.
early morning runs. long, lazy afternoons. looking in the direction of the world where i know you may be. wondering if you see me too.
love as a dimension
love transcending time and space
perhaps the past is a canyon you can walk into.
i cannot believe in love. i need to walk farther into the canyon to find it again.
Do not go gentle into that good night
---
12 string guitars and music becoming faith itself, becoming a dimension we could stand on, and oxygen we could breathe. (more on this later)
kendrick lamar on the subway and secret smiles. tap dancers and hope.
cold hands, shaking in his arms, or maybe i was just shivering at the smell of cigarettes between lips.
throwing credit cards in the air, birthdays being the excuse.
real targets don't exist, but hearts do. so aim there, please.
deepest chocolate cake, coconut milk, claiming you don't like it but eating it anyway
and memorizing rap lyrics on the long way home.
dancing downstairs in restaurant kitchens (dear health inspectors, grade THIS).
all black everything.
creme brulee in white paper bags, plastic spoons.
sneaking bites of butternut squash straight out of the oven.
racks on racks on racks
burning my mouth,
it's worth it anyway.
the winter brings a deep feeling of isolation, even when i'm surrounded by people.
solitary
solitude
solidify
sojourn
and you are not around to hold me when the cold settles on my skin
i talk about brass and woodwind
we make jokes about things we can blow on.
lately i haven't been able to breathe enough to blow.
carry on.
the bartender breaks a glass while making the drink he bragged about. the air smells like orange slices and white teeth.
i worry about him touching my back when it is moist with the sweat from running to get to where he is. to get there faster. to see the smile in his eyes faster. life is too short to walk.
"i'm nervous to dance with someone who dances so well."
"how do you know i dance?"
"i've never seen you walk anywhere. you never walk, you dance across the room and down sidewalks."
late night concerts and hands on waists. beer spilled on my jeans. he bought us a round to apologize.
the crowd throbbed and smiled together.
long train rides. legs on legs on legs. looking into eyes. breaking rules.
arguing about the existence of wild turkeys in Taiwan.
time is relative.
early morning runs. long, lazy afternoons. looking in the direction of the world where i know you may be. wondering if you see me too.
love as a dimension
love transcending time and space
perhaps the past is a canyon you can walk into.
i cannot believe in love. i need to walk farther into the canyon to find it again.
Do not go gentle into that good night
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Today, the cold came. Though it did so with warning and fanfare, still I found myself unprepared.
I could not feel my lips.
yet, I smiled anyway.
J instructed me on the difference between chives and jiu cai.
We sampled apple cider home-brewed with cloves. And pondered the sugar content.
Then, R came over and we roasted some acorn squash together.
Then he casually sharpened my knife with the bottom of a ceramic bowl.
It was sexy.
He told me I am one of the most deceptively guarded people he knows. I slowly realized that perhaps this is true.
It's been a while since my face has appeared here, and I don't let anyone see my room.
I pretend my heart is a fortress and stand forlornly wondering what to do when someone tries to scale its walls.
Mostly, I adore mystery, so perhaps I preserve it in myself.
I lost all of my spices and my teapot and tea leaves during the last move, but I vowed to rebuild my collection.
"The lack of height made me kiss your neck."
Recently, I've been listening to many songs about falling asleep- coincidentally during a time when I find it impossible to do just that.
Only now, after midnight, do I find peace to sit down and write.
Only now, after midnight, do I feel warm.
I could not feel my lips.
yet, I smiled anyway.
J instructed me on the difference between chives and jiu cai.
We sampled apple cider home-brewed with cloves. And pondered the sugar content.
Then, R came over and we roasted some acorn squash together.
Then he casually sharpened my knife with the bottom of a ceramic bowl.
It was sexy.
He told me I am one of the most deceptively guarded people he knows. I slowly realized that perhaps this is true.
It's been a while since my face has appeared here, and I don't let anyone see my room.
I pretend my heart is a fortress and stand forlornly wondering what to do when someone tries to scale its walls.
Mostly, I adore mystery, so perhaps I preserve it in myself.
I lost all of my spices and my teapot and tea leaves during the last move, but I vowed to rebuild my collection.
"The lack of height made me kiss your neck."
Recently, I've been listening to many songs about falling asleep- coincidentally during a time when I find it impossible to do just that.
- san francisco (by om). my quiet little version of lost in translation.
Only now, after midnight, do I find peace to sit down and write.
Only now, after midnight, do I feel warm.
Monday, November 17, 2014
Notes to remember by- the epic NYC food and drink adventures of me and ML:
- Random Japanese Curry that made the top of his head sweat (Curry-Ya)
- Japanese barbecue (Gyu-Kaku)
- David Chang's culinary greatness. Twice so far. (Momofuku Noodle Bar)
- Flushing Dim Sum with the best name (Asian Jewels)
- Pretty amazing pate with figs. Dim light, wine, pear salads, flickering candles. (YN)
- My favorite neighborhood speakeasy cocktail bar (Dutch Kills)
- My favorite neighborhood restaurant all around- with hands down the best servers (none of whom are native New Yorkers) (LIC Market)
- Mediocre Midtown tanmen where tipping is not mandatory (Riki)
- French food paired with the best wine. Escargot and amazing bread. (Amelie)
- Charcuterie, bourbon, live jazz. and hush-hush rendezvous. (Analogue)
- No one can officially say they reside in NYC without having tried these. (Doughnut Plant)
- Overrated but immensely popular, partially due to proximity to the Highline. (Cookshop)
- Of course, my very own. (Ellary's Greens)
- Rustic, underground, and the best pear almond upside-down cake. with vanilla gelato. (The Smile)
- The onion rings are to die for. Oh, yeah, and there are burgers. (Bareburger)
- Random Japanese Curry that made the top of his head sweat (Curry-Ya)
- Japanese barbecue (Gyu-Kaku)
- David Chang's culinary greatness. Twice so far. (Momofuku Noodle Bar)
- Flushing Dim Sum with the best name (Asian Jewels)
- Pretty amazing pate with figs. Dim light, wine, pear salads, flickering candles. (YN)
- My favorite neighborhood speakeasy cocktail bar (Dutch Kills)
- My favorite neighborhood restaurant all around- with hands down the best servers (none of whom are native New Yorkers) (LIC Market)
- Mediocre Midtown tanmen where tipping is not mandatory (Riki)
- French food paired with the best wine. Escargot and amazing bread. (Amelie)
- Charcuterie, bourbon, live jazz. and hush-hush rendezvous. (Analogue)
- No one can officially say they reside in NYC without having tried these. (Doughnut Plant)
- Overrated but immensely popular, partially due to proximity to the Highline. (Cookshop)
- Of course, my very own. (Ellary's Greens)
- Rustic, underground, and the best pear almond upside-down cake. with vanilla gelato. (The Smile)
- The onion rings are to die for. Oh, yeah, and there are burgers. (Bareburger)
Saturday, November 15, 2014
MUSIC!
These are a few songs from my running playlist for my first 4 mile run since the accident. it was along the San Francisco shoreline (of course, now that it is 34 degrees in NYC, no more running). huzzah!
- We Own it - 2 Chainz, Wiz Khalifa
- Wagon Wheel- Darius Rucker
- Trumpets- Jason Derulo
- Timber- Pitbull, Ke$sha
- This is Gospel - Panic! At The Disco
- Sonsick- San Fermin
- Holy Roller- Thao & the Get Down Stay Down
- Best Thing I Never Had- Beyonce
- All About That Bass- Meghan Trainor (OF COURSE)
and, guys, I am (still) in love with these:
- Countdown- Beyonce
- Take Me To Church- Hozier
- Stolen Dance- Milky Chance
- I Choose You- Sara Bareilles
- Ride- Lana del Rey
- Sweet Jane- Cowboy Junkies
You can see the whole list on Spotify. In the future, I will try using Jog.fm to figure out some beats-per-minute-optimized songs. but until then, I will be that girl bounding down the Embarcadero mouthing "Killing me sooooooftly" to Beyonce. Don't stop, get it get it.
These are a few songs from my running playlist for my first 4 mile run since the accident. it was along the San Francisco shoreline (of course, now that it is 34 degrees in NYC, no more running). huzzah!
- We Own it - 2 Chainz, Wiz Khalifa
- Wagon Wheel- Darius Rucker
- Trumpets- Jason Derulo
- Timber- Pitbull, Ke$sha
- This is Gospel - Panic! At The Disco
- Sonsick- San Fermin
- Holy Roller- Thao & the Get Down Stay Down
- Best Thing I Never Had- Beyonce
- All About That Bass- Meghan Trainor (OF COURSE)
and, guys, I am (still) in love with these:
- Countdown- Beyonce
- Take Me To Church- Hozier
- Stolen Dance- Milky Chance
- I Choose You- Sara Bareilles
- Ride- Lana del Rey
- Sweet Jane- Cowboy Junkies
You can see the whole list on Spotify. In the future, I will try using Jog.fm to figure out some beats-per-minute-optimized songs. but until then, I will be that girl bounding down the Embarcadero mouthing "Killing me sooooooftly" to Beyonce. Don't stop, get it get it.
Friday, November 14, 2014
good remedies for broken hearts are hard to come by. as i learned last night, follow any or all of these instructions for a recipe to success:
1. hug her. longer than it feels like she wants to be hugged.
2. feed her homemade white bean stew with pork
3. promise a massage but when you run out of time then give her something better (conversation, you dirty mind!)
4. put a bear hat on her head, first because it's warm, and second because it's silly
5. make her laugh
6. tell her she should cry if she needs to
7. hold her when she does
8. make her laugh again
9. take her to the grocery store
10. look for dried persimmons, because b*tches love persimmons
11. buy beer instead when you can't find dried persimmons
12. drive her home and kiss her on the cheek
1. hug her. longer than it feels like she wants to be hugged.
2. feed her homemade white bean stew with pork
3. promise a massage but when you run out of time then give her something better (conversation, you dirty mind!)
4. put a bear hat on her head, first because it's warm, and second because it's silly
5. make her laugh
6. tell her she should cry if she needs to
7. hold her when she does
8. make her laugh again
9. take her to the grocery store
10. look for dried persimmons, because b*tches love persimmons
11. buy beer instead when you can't find dried persimmons
12. drive her home and kiss her on the cheek
Monday, October 27, 2014
today. half hour long walk through the perfect autumn weather.
and then this happened- yes, mr. david chang's hand at "al pastor" and "shrimp & grits"
thank you new york city, for bringing me a taste of the south.
and then this happened- yes, mr. david chang's hand at "al pastor" and "shrimp & grits"
thank you new york city, for bringing me a taste of the south.
Monday, October 20, 2014
crushes of the moment
- Thao and the Get Down Stay down- Live at Bonnaroo Spotify Session
It's too hard for habits
My patience is done with me
I want to live in times that touch
I want to stay when my temper beats
Holy roller roll over me
I'm looking for something else to see
Lasts so long
Hurts so bad
But I want love in the aftermath
I want love in the aftermath
- sometimes late at night i secretly connect my iphone to the speakers in the big exercise room at the gym and dance to Sia's Chandelier
- love it or change it
- sweet potato or butternut squash on toast. yeah ok, cliche autumn menu, so sue me
- golden delicious apples
- uncle earl's the last goodbye and black-eyed susie (yes, i totally work out to bluegrass music)
- Thao and the Get Down Stay down- Live at Bonnaroo Spotify Session
It's too hard for habits
My patience is done with me
I want to live in times that touch
I want to stay when my temper beats
Holy roller roll over me
I'm looking for something else to see
Lasts so long
Hurts so bad
But I want love in the aftermath
I want love in the aftermath
- sometimes late at night i secretly connect my iphone to the speakers in the big exercise room at the gym and dance to Sia's Chandelier
- love it or change it
- sweet potato or butternut squash on toast. yeah ok, cliche autumn menu, so sue me
- golden delicious apples
- uncle earl's the last goodbye and black-eyed susie (yes, i totally work out to bluegrass music)
Sunday, October 19, 2014
“Though on the boat I write, I shoot. On the boat let’s face it I’m held. In its waves, its vagueness, in its water. I see only water. Water doesn’t answer. No land ahead. Just water. So my dilemma shrinks to secondary and abstract. How will I live. I want to stay in this primary thing that moves.”
— Eileen Myles, “The Importance of Being Iceland.”
I had the pleasure of meeting Om this weekend, and in the short 15 minute conversation I had with him I could see why is he one of the most influential people on the internet (and maybe off the internet, too).
He didn't make small talk. He cut to the chase and asked me what I was doing in New York City, and what I am looking for in life. He looked into my eyes and said that I didn't look content here, that he saw that I am a Texas girl who loves the open road and skies.
While that may be true, I spent the rest of the weekend reflecting on what I am doing here, really. I do believe that here, all paths intersect. If you want, you can find nothing here- and if you want, you will find the world. New York City is what you paint it to be, whether it be sadness or desperation or hope or anxiety or stillness.
(I also had the pleasure of attending the L.A. Dance Project performance at the BAM. Aptly, Millepied's piece played upon the themes of "Stay" and "Go")
Why did I stay here? I am obsessed with how people connect in a place as anonymous and dense as this city. The sometimes superficial intimacy that happens in public without hesitation or thought. The profound roots that grow from only the most stoic passions. As cliche as it is, I am here as wide-eyed witness to these connections and dreams. And when you go toward where you look, you will find yourself there faster and with less struggle than you initially anticipated.
--
As a more lighthearted postscript, my friend Nate of Gigzolo posted this article the other day. The title is a bit misleading, but I am taking some of her lessons learned to heart. So yes, though I find myself resisting, I will believe in love again. I will start to travel again. I will say yes to the men who ask me on "real" dates, though they be few and far between in this city. I will break down. I will stand up. I will be nicer than I want to be. and I will take photographs along the way.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Blissed out from a beautiful autumn day hiking through the Catskills with beautiful people.
My knees and feet hurt, but god, the color of the leaves, the light, the way the woods smell after a good hard rain. Hot chai rooibos at the top of the mountain. Tons of peanut shell tossing afterwards.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
this weekend, i developed an overly obsessed attitude towards the things below.
for some of them, i think it's a combination of "what the f, why is it 50 degrees already?" (i am used to 95 degree Septembers) and "oh my god this means that i will be hibernating soon for the winter time).
- vacuum insulated containers (fuck yes, i need a vacuum insulated tumbler to add to my collection of insulated water bottles. for when i don't want to mess with a lid and all) and also insulated lunch containers since i'm too poor to buy my lunch and it saves. you. SO MUCH money.
- Milo Greene, Sylvan Esso, She Keeps Bees (see my all-over-the-place spotify list here)
- calling it an early night so that i can retreat home and actually have time to listen to music, comb through my feedly subscriptions, and drink hot tea (assumedly, out of one of my 57 vacuum insulated containers)
- raw cashews
- eating dinner on the rooftop, while watching the sun set
- candles (but none of which i have lit, yet)
- really functional bags so that i can carry at least 3 extra layers of clothing "just in case" it gets cold throughout the day
today:
- the rain this morning
- woke up early and walked to a coffee shop in the rain underneath the MoMA sky umbrella that i bought the first time i ever visited NYC over a decade ago
- two irish men at another coffee shop i was hanging out at shared their rosemary sea salt chocolate chip cookie with me
- yoga class. savasana.
- sat facing Broadway a block away from Union Square to people watch. then i walked to one of my favorite bookstores and wandered aimlessly in complete bliss for an hour
- the rain turned into the most perfect sunset
- ate M's delicious quinoa paired with some sushi while watching the sunset
- early day tomorrow. but i never mind, because i absolutely love what i do.
for some of them, i think it's a combination of "what the f, why is it 50 degrees already?" (i am used to 95 degree Septembers) and "oh my god this means that i will be hibernating soon for the winter time).
- vacuum insulated containers (fuck yes, i need a vacuum insulated tumbler to add to my collection of insulated water bottles. for when i don't want to mess with a lid and all) and also insulated lunch containers since i'm too poor to buy my lunch and it saves. you. SO MUCH money.
- Milo Greene, Sylvan Esso, She Keeps Bees (see my all-over-the-place spotify list here)
- calling it an early night so that i can retreat home and actually have time to listen to music, comb through my feedly subscriptions, and drink hot tea (assumedly, out of one of my 57 vacuum insulated containers)
- raw cashews
- eating dinner on the rooftop, while watching the sun set
- candles (but none of which i have lit, yet)
- really functional bags so that i can carry at least 3 extra layers of clothing "just in case" it gets cold throughout the day
today:
- the rain this morning
- woke up early and walked to a coffee shop in the rain underneath the MoMA sky umbrella that i bought the first time i ever visited NYC over a decade ago
- two irish men at another coffee shop i was hanging out at shared their rosemary sea salt chocolate chip cookie with me
- yoga class. savasana.
- sat facing Broadway a block away from Union Square to people watch. then i walked to one of my favorite bookstores and wandered aimlessly in complete bliss for an hour
- the rain turned into the most perfect sunset
- ate M's delicious quinoa paired with some sushi while watching the sunset
- early day tomorrow. but i never mind, because i absolutely love what i do.
Monday, September 15, 2014
today:
morning walk before my shift. the weather has already changed.
swallowing self doubt, body shame
rays of sunlight while sipping on a cappuccino. slowly learning to love coffee, in every good way possible.
the hotel doorman yelling out how he loved my smile
busy shift. long hours. good food.
lady blue at the end
eating way too much birthday cake
raspberry puree in my prosecco
veuve clicquot.
eating way too much hummus
walking to the W 4th stop
pacing
magazine covers
coming home to a party
listening to angus and julia
tired. happy.
morning walk before my shift. the weather has already changed.
swallowing self doubt, body shame
rays of sunlight while sipping on a cappuccino. slowly learning to love coffee, in every good way possible.
the hotel doorman yelling out how he loved my smile
busy shift. long hours. good food.
lady blue at the end
eating way too much birthday cake
raspberry puree in my prosecco
veuve clicquot.
eating way too much hummus
walking to the W 4th stop
pacing
magazine covers
coming home to a party
listening to angus and julia
tired. happy.
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