Ciao Bella

What a day! Within the past 24 hours, it’s been one hell-of-an emotional roller coaster. So around 12 AM… I’m officially on my way to Flushing with my homegirls. It’s been awhile since the four of us last got together to go to our favorite drinking spot on Northern Blvd. My first time at this local Korean drinking spot was last summer when Jen, who knew the owner on friendly terms, took the trio to get our underage dranking on. The place is nestled on one of the less flashier Northern Blvd streets that are infested with Korean restaurants, pubs, and NRBs (no-rae-bag aka KARAOKE). Visiting this joint was a spur-of-a-moment kind of thing, so we were all underdressed, but who the fuck cares, it was just our usual spot! Upon arrival, I was pretty surprised to see that almost every table was packed with customers— what was even MORE shockingly surprising was that all the customers looked as if they belonged in MIDDLE SCHOOL. I almost wanted to bury my head in embarrassment to see all these kids walk around the place like they own it. At first glances, I saw that all their tables had about two bottles, or maybe just a pitcher of beer, for a group of about seven. Wow. Last summer, the place was pretty vacant every time I visited. Because Northern Blvd is so packed with these Korean drinking spots, good business is based on the loyalty of the regular customers. My friend Jen, is the epitome of the loyal customer for this spot in particular. Not to mention, the married couple who owns this spot can cook really good food that pairs along well with drinking none other than, SOJU! Well, the food’s besides the point. We noticed that the ahjumah had a waitress, who we’ve never seen before. This girl, was definitely not fitted to be a bar maiden. She looked 15, and she lacked total customer service. She was rude with her curt answers, and cared more for catering to her friends, who all looked 12. ANYWAYSSS— we already had dinner and we just wanted to drink. Of course we ordered soju and maek-ju for starters. Ahh~ how I missed soju.

I tried a new combination of coke + soju + beer, but it tasted like ASS. Having the green bottled soju, instead of vodka, was a nice switch-up that I needed running in my Korean veins. But the whole time I couldn’t take my eyes off these 15 year olds walking all around the place. I know for SURE they were at least 15, because at one point the table behind us had one of those birthday celebrations, and the waitress asked, “How old is the birthday boy?” to which a girl replied, “16.” Then me and my friends went on to tease them over having his sweet sixteen at a local drinking spot, which is of course, every boy’s fantasy, haha. Anyways, we ordered another freshly made Strawberry soju which was so tasty! Perfect summer drink, I tell ya. People underestimate soju, but if you’re Korean, that shit goes down like water. Once we were almost done with the pitcher of strawberry soju, we realized, “Shit. No one’s okay to drive!” So like always, we burned off the alcohol at a nearby NRB. It’s the typical Korean routine: round 1= go hit up a restaurant and have a few drinks, round 2= then go to your favorite bar where your most loyal to, and start ordering bottles and fruit platters, round 3= NRB it up once you feel the buzz and drunkenness slurring your words, with shitty eyes glossing over faces, round 4= after you’ve burned off that alcohol and you start feeling sober again, of course you’re going to get hungry! You hit up a fast, local, food joint that’s convenient. Now of course you can always add one, or minus one round, but this is usually my experience. We all decided it would be convenient for us to crash at Sharon’s house afterwards, but we still had to wake up at 8 AM. Waking up was such a groggy and gross feeling from drinking/smoking all night long. I had leftover lo mein for breakfast which was the BEST breakfast :D. Then I got home around 8:30 AM, slept for a good four hours, then woke up to hit the beachh, except…. HEAVY, GROSS, MOTHERFLIPPING TRAFFIC. Ugh, should’ve known. So we detoured and decided to have lunch at my favorite sushi spot in Plainview, Ruby Sushi. I lahv their sushi because they really PACK THAT SHIT IN, with minimal rice. The Spicy Salmon Roll has like crunchy flakes in it, as well, so it’s like basically, orgasm in the mouth. 

Do I make myself clear with these photos??

Then I spent the rest of my day just bumming out at home. I remember falling asleep while watching el television, but I woke up JUST IN TIME for the latest episode of The Real Housewives of NYC! Okay, one thing I’ll admit about myself, is that I’m a hugeee reality-tv junkie. I get so passionate just talking about it! But really, pseudo reality-tv shows like The Real Housewives of NYC, Top Chef Masters, and all the super wacky dating shows on VH1, are my guiltiest pleasures! So anyways, I was so HAPPY and ECSTATIC that I woke up from my peaceful nap, just in time for the newest episode. It must be fate, my brain just knew when to automatically wake myself up in time for the new episode! And let me tell you, the episode didn’t disappoint. Let me warn you now, that I AM going to get a little crazy and get totally carried away with this, so you can choose to stop reading my blog at this point.

OKAY, where to begin?! First off, Kelly Bensimon is unbelievably naive. I won’t say psychotic, because I believe that there’s always method to the madness. I just want to…. like… pop her bubble, and watch an episode of the show with her, and wait for her reaction to herself. She’s so strange and unbearable to deal with! She obviously doesn’t have the backbone to put up with the other ladies, to which I think she should SHUT HER MOUTH then. Then there’s Jill Zarin, who’s been annoying ALL SEASON LONG. She was truly the “Mean girl” this whole season, manipulating people and acting like a teenage girl, having her friends choose sides instead of dealing with the problem like an adult. Her feud with Bethenny Frankel was truly exhausting and made me grit my teeth every time Jill would push Bethenny away. Then I was just appalled when Jill just makes it seem like Bethenney owes her the time of the day to sit down and have lunch with her, on her own terms. UGH! Anyone who watched this show can truly see that Bethenny reached out to Jill so many times in the beginning, yet Jill always snubbed her off and never LISTENED to what Bethenny had to say. Then there was Ramona, who was a lot more likable this season; LuAnn, who came across as the biggest drag queen on the Upper East side; Alex, who calmed down a lot this season; and the newest housewife, Sonja Morgan. I took delight in Sonja, who carried a very headstrong but charming attitude. I wish I can join these ladies in 20 years after I marry my Rockefeller, Carnegie, or Hearst husband.

I love being inspired by people who I admire and respect tremendously. I am moved by the measure of someone’s life experiences, which in turn cultivates a highly respectable judgment on a subject matter. To be more precise, I believe that a person’s character is formed by the measure of his or her past experiences in a certain aspect that was fueled by passion. Take for instance, chefs and restaurant critics. This week has been a very big food week for me. Not particularly because I’ve been eating great food, but I’ve been inspired by Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservation and Top Chef Masters. 

Chef Anthony Bourdain is the chef-at-large at Brasserie Les Halles, and he certainly has the personality to match. On his travel show, No Reservations, he’s so real and genuine with himself, while having the utmost respect for the different cultures he experiences. He has great knowledge on food, flavor, and techniques, which makes his judgments on dishes very solid. He doesn’t treat foreign food as something foreign, instead he appreciates the homebound taste to some of the most exotic dishes. And pretty much like the title to his culinary show, he holds NO reservations. He smokes, drinks, and swears freely and frequently. He dishes on food network personalities like Rachel Ray, which I find very humorous. He’s a balance of being a free spirit who holds prestige in the culinary world. I watched him take on Tokyo, Osaka, and China on his show, and you can really tell he loves what he does. After a doctor advised him not to consume alcohol and avoid spicy food, he does just that by eating the spiciest hotpot in China, oh and don’t forget his regular consumption of scotch, beer, and sake. Bottom line, I really respect and admire this guy. He inspires me to expand my food palette to different cultural flavors, as well as appreciating real, good food. Bourdain emphasizes that the best dishes comes from the peasants. Peasants usually have limited resources, so it takes them real skill to create the most flavorful dishes.

I remember a couple of years back I was randomly skipping through channels and I came across Eat Out NY. I stopped at this channel because: a) the host was Korean, b) anything to do with trying new restaurants peaks my interest, and most importantly c) it’s food! Fast forward to this year, and I found that she was the new host of Top Chef Masters. What a career jump! The show in itself is like food porn, I lahv it, and I find Kelly to be an exceptional host. She speaks well and she’s charming which is evident in the grilled cheese quick fire challenge. After doing some research, turns out she’s an immigrant from Seoul, and graduated from Columbia Univ with a Journalism degree. Something I’ve always hoped to accomplish one day! Anyway, I admire how she became the host for such a critically acclaimed show that only deals with the crème de la crème of the restaurant industry.

DR. PHIL: The problem we have here is that this chicken won’t realize
that he must first deal with the problem on “THIS” side of the road
before it goes after the problem on the “OTHER SIDE” of the road.
What we need to do is help him realize how stupid he’s acting by not
taking on his “CURRENT” problems before adding “NEW” problems.

OPRAH: Well I understand that the chicken is having problems, which
is why he wants to cross this road so bad. So instead of having the
chicken learn from his mistakes and take falls, which is a part of
life, I’m going to give this chicken a car so that he can just drive
across the road and not live his life like the rest of the chickens.

GEORGE W BUSH: We don’t really care why the chicken crossed the road.
We just want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road, or
not. The chicken is either against us, or for us. There is no middle
ground here.

COLIN POWELL: Now to the left of the screen, you can clearly see the
satellite image of the chicken crossing the road…

HANS BLIX: We have reason to believe there is a chicken, but we have
not yet been allowed to have access to the other side of the road.

JOHN KERRY: Although I voted to let the chicken cross the road, I am
now against it! It was the wrong road to cross, and I was misled
about the chicken’s intentions. I am for it now, and will remain
against it.

PAT BUCHANAN: To steal the job of a decent, hardworking American.

MARTHA STEWART: No one called me to warn me which way that chicken
was going. I had a standing order at the Farmer’s Market to sell my
eggs when the price dropped to a certain level. No little bird gave
me any insider information.

DR SEUSS: Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a
toad? Yes, the chicken crossed the road, but why it crossed I’ve not
been told.

ERNEST HEMINGWAY: To die in the rain. Alone.

MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR: I envision a world where all chickens will be
free to cross roads without having their motives called into question.

GRANDPA: In my day we didn’t ask why the chicken crossed the road.
Somebody told us the chicken crossed the road, and that was good
enough.

BARBARA WALTERS: Isn’t that interesting? In a few moments, we will be
listening to the chicken tell, for the first time, the heart warming
story of how it experienced a serious case of molting, and went on to
accomplish its life long dream of crossing the road.

JOHN LENNON: Imagine all the chickens in the world crossing roads
together in peace.

ARISTOTLE: It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.

SIGMUND FREUD: The fact that you are at all concerned that the
chicken crossed the road reveals your underlying sexual insecurity.

BILL GATES: I have just released eChicken2006, which will not only
cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and
balance your check book. Internet explorer is an integral part of
eChicken. The platform is much more stable and will never
cra…#@&&^( C \ reboot.

ALBERT EINSTEIN: Did the chicken really cross the road, or did the
road move beneath the chicken? 

BILL CLINTON: I did not cross the road with THAT chicken. What is
your definition of chicken?

AL GORE: I invented the chicken!

COLONEL SANDERS: Did I miss one?

I have a very specific food palette. I know what good food tastes like, and I’ve always had a natural proclivity towards anything to do with food. I enjoy cooking, eating, and basking in the delightful taste of perfectly executed dishes. I like to define myself as an Epicurean because when it comes to food, that is something I do not make compromises over. One hobby I’ve always had was reading food blogs. I love it when bloggers write a post on the different restaurants they’ve tried. That’s why I, myself, like taking pictures of food at restaurants before I eat it.

There’s something so alluring about food to me. I’ve always said if I were to suffer from any one of the seven deadly sins, it would be gula aka gluttony. But really, this blog is just about me wanting to think out loud over some trivial, unimportant matters:

1. I hate the taste of carrots. I hate the flavor and texture of carrots,no matter how it’s cooked.
2. I hate bacon bits in my food. I’m really not fond of the taste of salty bacon in my dishes. I only eat bacon when it’s with white rice. 
3. I have food aversion to STEAMED, OVERLY-COOKED broccoli. My first experience with the stomach virus was credited to steamed, mushy broccoli, BLEGHH. I remember after I threw up all my dinner, I had a dream about floating broccoli, which made me nauseous again. Needless to say, I spent the wee hours of the night cleaning up my vomit from the floor.

I can cook a mean dish! Simple pasta dish with minimal ingredients needed. Ricotta cheese, bow tie pasta, garlic-infused olive oil, and salt & pepper to taste.

My rendition of Penne alla Vodka using linguine, baby tomatoes, shrimp, and salt & pepper, as well.

I’m a sucker for turning things into a photo-op.

Sharon’s creative input for adding pomegranate seeds to sparkling apple cider.

Strawberry jam made from scratch :)

Gruyere or Brie (forgot which one) cheese nestled into a pillsbury croissant dough.

The final product! Both sweet and savory at the same time. A harmonious combination of strawberry jam and cheese. Vicki Ng’s recipe!

Koryodang @ Ktown, NYC

My absolute favorite from The Cheesecake Factory! Fresh Bavarian Cream Banana cheesecake.

Yummy! Courtesy of Vicki Ng’s padre.

Photo credits to Okhee Grace Park<3

I should no longer take simple, lighthearted conversations for more than what it is. You are you, but I happen to see you as a guy. I think in every relationship, there is a blurred grey zone that is inhabitant of many of my guy friends. When I place guy friends in this grey zone I forget they have balls, literally & figuratively. This grey zone cements my relationships with people. In my mind, I feel comfortable enough to show these boys all the different sides that exists to me. It’s a sense of trust and brotherhood that strangely exists in my world. You will oftentimes find me referring to my guys friends as “bros” or “niggas” or .. ya’know.

But you’re a strangeee case for moi. 

I placed you in the grey zone at first, but SLOWLY & SURELY, you found your way out of it. I guess once I saw the different sides that existed in you, I was quite happily surprised. However… there’s always the risk of feeling vulnerable in displaying your raw feelings for someone. Sure I may have dropped hints here and there, maybe even bombs, but I’m too scared to dabble any further in catching your radar.

I no longer want to feel chained down by this insecurity in my mind. After all, it is the summer time and I can use this distance between us as an opportunity to re-evaluate what I make of our, sadly to say, nurturing FRIENDSHIP. I realized, though, that maybe this distance is what keeps me playing on the thoughts of you and me. But it’s summer timee! 

You know, there are some moments when you really, REALLY, want something to be yours. That something will be yours to keep, and most importantly, to call it your own. It’s a much more intense feeling than to want “it”. It becomes a strong need to satisfy your insatiable desire. But like all burning flames do, the desire to have it eventually dies out. You give up, thinking that the passion and keen interest that initially drove the fire into flames was all a joke. A really bad joke, at that. You feel it lingering on your fingertips but you can’t quite grasp it, with the fear knowing it might become harder for you to even touch it. You soon begin to realize that “it” has a different possessor to return to at the end of the day. 

Then all hope is lost, and you just become weary and jaded for wasting so much time and energy keeping the flame alive. The flame can only keep you company for so long, before something or someone hampers it, and rains on your parade.

Like, I ABSOLUTELY cannot tolerate? It’s to the point where if it occurs, I go from normal, to a sky-high, raging BITCH in a matter of two seconds.

I HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE ASSUME THAT I WOULD DO THINGS.
LIKE WITH ANYTHING, I HATE IT WHEN THEY JUST ASSUME I WOULD DO IT.
KEY WORD: “ASSUME.”

Most Commonly Occurred Scenarios: 

1. So I drive, and oftentimes I’ll take either my mom or dad’s car out. If I specifically offer you a ride, that means I’m more than willing to go out of my way to pick your ass up. HOWEVERRR, IF YOU JUST ASSUME THAT I’LL PICK YOU UP AFTER A CERTAIN POINT AND IT BECOMES EXCESSIVE, BITCH—- I WILL CUT YOU. To make matters worse, one time a friend of mine even ASSUMED I would pick up another girl on the way to this place. LIKE WAT THE FUCK, WITHOUT EVEN ASKING ME TO BEGIN WITH. BITCH, IT AINT YOUR CAR, IT’S MINE. DAMN.

2. I don’t mind helping out around the house, but ooooohmygawd, when my mom or dad just ASSUMES it’s my responsibility to do certain things like washing everyone else’s dishes and stuff, I refuse to do it.

I’m probably coming off as the most insensitive bitch right now, but I REALLY can’t help it. I guess it’s to the point where I can call it a pet peeve…? (I’m still not sure whether or not pet peeve only refers to actions). I don’t like anyone else dictating my life for me, unless I ask for you to get involved. I’ll be generous on my own time, in the meanwhile, you can be considerate and just assume that what’s mine is mine, and I don’t want what’s yours.

Or I’ll just marry one!

Recently I was talking to a girl friend of mine and we were on the subject of boys. I thought out loud, wondering why I couldn’t get boys to be my boyfriend (LOL); to which she said, I should lower my standards. Since then I did a lot of thinking and wondered if it really was because my standards were set so high. Then I had a conversation with a guy friend and he asked me what my definition of a “whipped” boyfriend was. I couldn’t quite explain it in words, I found it difficult to actually express what my definition for a “whipped” boyfriend was. Instead, my response defined a GOOD boyfriend, to my standards. I explained that I liked guys who paid for the whole meal and drinks. A likely scenario would be if me and my close girl friends went out for dinner and my hypothetical boyfriend tagged along. My hypothetical boyfriend would pay for the whole tab, and I would find that charming…. I caught my guy friend saying “someone who’s a baller….”

Then it occurred to me that my expectations of a boyfriend material didn’t exist in my world. I picture a 6’2” guy with lots of $$$ and power. But that’s only good for the future, more like, FUTURE HUSBAND. 

Why am I looking for my future husband, now? What’s the rush? Maybe it’s because I don’t have much experience with dating, and I just feel as though I owe myself a life-long commitment to someone to make up for all the past, single life, years. 

The ME right now, at the age of 18, would like a boyfriend who I feel comfortable with at all times. I’m really not all-that picky; better yet, I have no right to be! I find it such a pleasure when I meet new people who are surprisingly refreshing and genuine.