corinne

Going to see this lovely woman tomorrow night in Philly, c/o my bff. If you remember, I was mildly obsessed with her heartbreaking live performance of one of the songs off her new album, The Sea. (Buy the record--you won't regret it.) To see her perform live will be a gift, I'm sure of it.

**Speaking of refreshing simplicity, everything Corinne wears in this brief video interview/montage is instantly covetable. Striped shirt dresses, v-neck T's, a denim skirt, and loose hair--perfection!

costumes

As much as I enjoy looking at fashion blogs, lately I've been feeling like people look way too costume-y. Maybe we are all just trying too damn hard to look too damn special.



... know what I mean? No disrespect to these ladies--they are very lovely. But sometimes a t-shirt and jeans is just so refreshing. I also often wonder about the men in these ladies' lives ... Chris is always chastising me for wearing shoes that are pretty, but completely impractical for walking around. The one day I wore running shoes with jeans because I knew we would be walking A LOT, I was miserable and Chris was happy. So when these girls are putting on their big pink head bow and buttoning up their ball gowns before heading out for groceries, do their boyfriends shake their heads in dismay? Probably not, but one has to wonder ....

happiness is ...

playing with Eli after a long brunch with his beautiful mother.

**What a difference a year and a half make!

the *only* time my family has ever gone walking

It was an epic battle to get my parents out of the house for a brief (less than 1 mile) walk when Uno and I went home last winter. I'm talking screaming, wrestling, chasing, slapping. It was not pretty. But here is the end result: a happy family.

**edit: look at my dad and me, and then my mom and uno. Two sets of twins, I tell ya.

the little prince

Cannot wait to see this one tomorrow.

Before

by Mark Halliday

Before you were you,
before your bicycle appeared under the street-lamp,
before you met me at the airport in a corduroy jacket,

before you agreed to hold my five ballpoint pens
while i ran to play touch football,
before your wet hair nearly touched the piano keys

and in advance of how your raincoat was tightly cinched
when you asked about nonviolent anti-war activity
and before you said "Truffaut,"

before your voice supernaturally soft sang
"I aweary wait upon the shore,"
before you suddenly stroked my thigh in the old Volvo,

when you had not yet said "Marcus Aureliius at 11:15"
and before your white shirt on the train,
before Pachelbel and "My Creole Belle"

and before your lips were so cool under that street-lamp
and before Buddy Holly in Vermont on the sofa
and Yeats in the library lounge,

prior to your denim cutoffs on the porch,
prior to my notes and your notes
and before your name became a pulsing star,

before all this
ah safer and smoother and smaller was my heart.

helen in kelly green

Helen and I must have some cousin-to-cousin ESP because look at what she was wearing yesterday, kelly green!

open sesame

Day 2 of the ragu jar .... yuck. I drank 1 and 3/4's of a jar yesterday. Today I'm shooting for 2! chug chug chug chug!


In more tasty news, last night I made this Chinese tomato egg rice dish that Chris taught me. It's SO GOOD and really easy and relatively cheap to make. Here's a recipe, if you're interested.

Another food tip: nothing spruces up a meal like a little sprinkling of toasted sesame seeds! Sprinkle them on rice, fish, in a salad, etc. They *can* be rather expensive though, so I picked up some raw sesame seeds at Glut and toasted them myself. Get into it!

hello, sworn enemy

I hate drinking water. I know it's weird, but I can't help it! It makes me nauseated. But I'm trying to make a real effort to drink more, so here it is: my new "mug" at work (about the size of a standard Ragu spaghetti sauce jar). I'm trying to drink two of these a day, but I keep gagging. Blech.

oh my bread!

I've been baking with a new 7-grain flour that I picked up at the Glut Food Co-op on Saturday. This first attempt (above) looked beautiful, but was inedible because I used three cups of 7-grain for the first batch. MAJOR BREAD FAIL! The dough didn't rise at all and felt like a brick after baking. I learned that when baking with grain flour you still need to mix in a greater proportion of wheat flour, otherwise the dough will not rise.

I made a second batch that used two cups of unbleached bread flour and one cup of the new 7-grain. I also gave it a longer rising time ... closer to 24 hours rather than the standard 18. I kept checking the dough every several hours begging it to rise. It eventually did and baked into a lovely loaf.

And that, my friends, is the boringest post I've ever written. Thanks for reading!

kelly green/navy blue. get into it.

My friend John Kim is the king of fashion. Back in college, he would announce the newest trend and close with the definitive statement: "Get into it."

Big hair. Get into it.
Pinstripes. Get into it.
Skinny jeans. Get into it.

He now designs for Anne Klein. Every time we meet up for a meal in New York I always anticipate those first few seconds when he walks into the room because his outfits are so delightful :) Anyway, at the risk of seeming like I'm trying too hard to be him, I'd like to make my own declaration: Green and Navy. Get into it. Whenever I see these two colors together, the synapses in my brain immediately start snapping.

(Spool No. 27 dress, so cute!)

(I snagged this great little jacket at Target. Get into it. Literally.)


(John and me. He's so fierce!)

do you know the minimalist?

(On the set of The Minimalist. Credit: Evan Sung for the New York Times)

I can't get enough of Mark Bittman's videos on the New York Times site. His cheesy intros, easy recipes, and bossy directives totally delight me. I chuckle to myself often when watching them. Yeah, that's right. I chuckle.

not-so-lazy sunday

Today is a day of simple pleasures.

baking bread

laundry

brunch with my roommate

home brewed coffee

worship

seltzer water with fresh mint

old episodes of This American Life

... how was your sunday?

pens

My entire family is obsessed with writing implements. At our house in Temecula, every where you go you can find buckets of pens and pencils. Dig through them and you're sure to find some winners because we go through different kinds of pens like fads: there was the pilot era, then the cross pens (big hit with my dad, even to this day), then the gel pens (the glitter ink was a revolution for my sister and me), and don't get me started on mechanical pencils. I still remember how proud I was to debut my new mechanical pencil which released the led every time you shook it. No more clicking the butt of the eraser. All I had to do was shake, shake, shake, and I was ready to go. And when one of us finds a great pen, we buy three more and disperse them to the others.

When I discovered Pilot Hi-Tec-C's ... it was game over for all of us. It's no-fuss, utilitarian design, razor sharp point, and perfect ink consistency makes this the paragon of all pens. Alas, they are not sold in the United States and can only be found in stores in Asia. But thanks to the world wide web, you can order them here.

Furthermore, they have the best color selection I've ever seen. When I was in Korea two years ago, I stood in front of a Hi-Tec-C display mesmerized by the number of shades I could choose from. I think I ended up buying 12, right then and there. Right now, I am drooling over these two, olive and venet ... lovely!:

(proofing with my magenta Hi Tec C)

happy spring

The weather in DC could not be more perfect. Work has been insane this past week, but finally things will slow down today since I have a happy hour and dinner date to look forward to. Tonight I meet my college best friend's boyfriend for the first time. I am excited! Can't wait to give him the third degree >:P

(yesterday)

(today)

In other news, I've been having a visitors dry spell the last few months. Would anyone like to come over and hang out in DC for a little bit? The spring months are the best for it--it's not yet sweltering and humid, not yet pouring buckets of rain, not yet filled with swarms of bloodthirsty mosquito bastards ... think about it, and then call me! I have a fantastic air mattress that I sometimes think about just blowing up and sleeping on for the helluvit.

stand by me

I've always loved this song.



Grandpa Elliott of New Orleans is incredible!

she&him

She:

(smoky quartz cocktail ring from jenny,
mint dark chocolate, homemade bread,
parrano cheese, fish cloth napkins I found
at a church sale, and a full to-do list.)

Him:

(banana from street fruit cart in brooklyn;
most recent issue of our magazine;
special pen gifted by jeannie with ribbon,
Wed. NYT crossword half completed during train ride)

**sappy editor's note: nothing delights me more than to make lunch in the kitchen while Chris sits mulling over a crossword at the dining table. tiny thrill!

a little something to get you to hump day

baby, let me see you tightrope.
HT: helen



I wish I knew how to dance :\

so we ran 10 miles yesterday ...

Sunday was the annual Cherry Blossom 10-mile run. I tried to run this last year but had to bow out because of a lower-back injury (the worst pain I've ever experienced in my life). This year, with no complications, Chris and I stepped onto the race course and finished strong ... er, at least he did. I could tell I was slowing Chris down so I waved him ahead at about mile 5. He sped away and left me to confront the next five miles all alone. The challenges included: almost stepping on a dead squirrel flattened into a pancake; annoying cheerleaders who insisted on yelling the remaining mileage ("Just 4 more miles guys!" to which I wanted to shout, "SHUT YOUR TRAP!!!" >:oI); slight runner's dia**hea at mile 9 (shameful but true!); and a desperate uphill climb to the finish line!

After finishing the race, I walked in a daze toward the muffins and bananas only to hear, "Jeannie!" behind me. I whipped around and there was Christopher, resplendent in a sky blue exercise shirt and shorts, sweaty but triumphant. His grin was worth a million bucks!

All in all, it was a fun run. I am sort of bitter that I trained for this run and still struggled, while Chris just up and decided last minute to join me, and finished strong. Boys. How we hate them >:oI

(Christopher, Cassie, and me before the race)

(Christopher and me after the race. We are happy and relieved.)

if it was my birthday tomorrow

I'd ask for this.

blogging is so ...

narcissistic.
ha!

some more vintage jeannie

My one rockstar moment. October 24, 2008. Carnegie Mellon University.

what is care?

Here's an excerpt from a blog I posted over at God's Politics:

Yesterday I found myself on one side of a heated debate with my sister. I yelled, gesticulated, and argued ’til my face turned blue. She, on the other hand, remained calm, listened with an open heart, and then humbled me to oblivion by sending me this crucial Henri Nouwen passage from his text, Out of Solitude:

By the honest recognition and confession of our human sameness we can participate in the care of God who came, not to the powerful but powerless, not to be different but the same, not to take our pain away but to share it. Through this participation we can open our hearts to each other and form a new community.

sometimes, I long for banjo

what are you wearing?

My cousin Helen.
I like to ask her what she is wearing because she gives very nice, detailed descriptions:

helen: i'm wearing seersucker bermuda pants from theory, an oversized button up shirt with jackrabbits all over from fcuk, and a theory blazer....

I love her!


***edit: added helen's jackrabbit outfit :) helen, you are soooo L.A. You're going to be too stylish for DCists when you move out here.

patronize your local thrift store!

Sure I come out feeling sort of itchy and dirty after trying on used clothing, but it's worth it when you can wear pretty clothes on the cheap and live sustainably. I like a brand new dress as much as the next girl (or guy, ha!), but when you think about just how much STUFF is manufactured and discarded in this world, it's enough to make you sick.

Today's outfit, brought to you by a thrift store depot (read: dumpster) in Long Island City (belt, $1); the Goodwill in Temecula, CA (dress, $5); Urban Outfitters (black cardigan, $20); and Zappos.com (Clark's sandals, $75).

some real vintage jeannie

I wrote this on November 22, 2007:

While living in Wheaton, Ill., I had the most fantastic roommate named Susan. She was 63, single and a retired missionary. Everyday, she would wake up at 6:30 a.m. and read the Bible a little bit, sing praise songs with her ukulele and pray.

Around Thanksgiving, Susan would christen the year that was to pass with some sort of phrase that summed up the events of her life, such as “the year God revealed his love”, or “the year God blessed me with more”. All of these she would write down in her journal with the deliberate cursive of a person born in the 1940s, when penmanship was of paramount importance.

If I had the posterity to keep up a tradition like this, 2007 would go down as “the year of absolute hell”. In the past year, I have seen 3 friends lose a parent. I have mourned 5 unborn children. I have felt distant from everyone I love. I have felt the unbelievable high of fulfillment in the workplace and the abrupt pitch and fall of disappointment, of truths revealed, of innocence gone. I have loved and lost. I have failed in ministry. I have dried up. I have no more to give and yet demands keep building. I have sought God and found only silence. I have given up, and in giving up, I have given in.

Earlier in the year, I remember having the audacity to ask God to shake my world up. “My life is too boring,” I said. “Teach me to need you, because right now, needing you is way too easy.” The cartoon-like God in my head hears this ridiculous little prayer from his throne enveloped in clouds, thinks about it a little, shrugs, and then takes his ginormous index finger and dips it into my tiny sphere of life and stirs it around for a few minutes while saying, “Well, you asked for it!” I guess I did ask for it.

So for me, this thanksgiving is a mixed bag of emotions. Am I thankful for my family and friends and all the comforts and love they bring? Of course! But often, when people suffer, there is a tendency to cover the gaping sores of our hearts with some pat answer. “God is in the silver lining, don’t mind the thunderbolts!” or “No pain, no gain sister girl!” Why do we try so hard to explain away the pain? Instead, this thanksgiving, I will not rationalize my struggles with the other blessings in my life like food and comfort and family, because that would be an insincere resolution to the very real anger I feel against God. Instead, I will give myself the freedom to grieve and my hope is that in doing so, I will find a more complete healing.

That’s what I hope for, anyway.