Dance Dance Dance | Haruki Murakami

When it comes to writing, Murakami is a wizard -- a word wizard because he creates these eccentric characters and plants them into all sorts of bizarre situations where no one really knows if they are still in the real world, or a dream, or both. But somehow, it all just works. Murakami wonderfully pulls you along for the ride, and before you know it, you find yourself believing every single thing he's written, even if it's completely absurd or impossible. Not only do you allow yourself to be confused, you embrace the uncertainty. If you've read Kafka on the Shore, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about.

But I should be talking about Dance Dance Dance in this post, and, unfortunately, there's not much to rave about. I was left feeling a little... disengaged. Although the writing itself was very typically Murakami's, the plot lacked intrigue and suspense, leaving me bored and indifferent. The narrator failed to make me care, failed to make me feel for him and root for him in his obsessive search for a missing ex-girlfriend. His companions -- a beautiful teenaged psychic, and a handsome but broke actor -- were interesting in theory, but were closer to being disappointedly two-dimensional, in the end. There were, however, a few passages that gently pulled at my heartstrings, but even these were too few in between to really make a dent.

As always, I am perfectly aware of the laws of relativity here. I'm sure those well-acquainted with his work wouldn't tote this novel as Murakami's best -- but for the new and uninitiated, it can serve as a good introduction to the author's unique writing style.

If anything, for me, it made for a smooth read before bed for a few nights.

When you are so weak.

When you are so weak,
give up to grace.
The ocean takes care of each wave
till it gets to shore.

- Rumi

A manifesto.

I love wandering around, taking photos, but uploading them for the world to see really isn't my forte. An acquaintance's incredibly tragic and senseless loss recently moved something inside of me, and I found myself holding onto Manfriend just a little tighter at night, and just a little longer in the mornings. I sat on a bench, feeling the sun on my skin, taking my time chatting with my mother and brothers.

Tonight, I sorted through a few memories. Crooked smiles, first times, and all the art and nature we could possibly find.

Love is so beautiful. And life is too short.

Flowers on Friday.

One of my favorite things to do when visiting my parents is admiring my father's latest plants or flowers. The man is truly talented, born with a magical green thumb that I never inherited.

Those pretty peach blossoms? They were completely dry, and inevitably dying the last time I saw them. But somehow my father has breathed life into them once again, their petals now blushing such a healthy, pretty pink hue.

...

...

Manfriend has had some African violets sitting on the kitchen window sill for quite some time now, a small gift received years ago from a friend and coworker. I noticed nothing but leaves in its pot the first time I laid eyes on it. And so I started to give the flowers more water to drink, and I turn their faces towards the warmth of the sun every morning. I sing them love songs when I wash the dishes in the evenings.

Yesterday, we took a good look at them. Surprised, we loudly marveled at how deeply colorful and bountiful they have become in such a short amount of time.

In the long run, it's amazing how the little things can make all the difference.

...

...

He recently gave me some beautiful orchids; one of my favorites, to care for and call my own. But a single branch with blooming buds and flowers sadly did not survive the ride home, breaking off, landing softly and solemnly into the palm of my hands as soon as I unwrapped the plastic cover that was supposed to protect it.

Plants are like people, they react to love and attention, the lover simply said. Be patient. It'll be just fine as long as we look after it. And with that he tenderly examined the plant and carefully felt its soil. It has become our little child. I've become obsessed with not letting it die.

I can't let it die. I won't let it.

...

...

And my mother. After all these years, my mother still calls me ma plus belle des fleurs de tout le monde; her prettiest of all the flowers in all of the world.

...

"Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom."

–Marcel Proust

The Book Thief | Markus Zusak

I cringed every time I had to put this book down. It was that good. The author does not merely write, he paints vividly beautiful, colorful images with the magic of words. It's been a while since I've been so taken with a book from beginning to end. You can't help but get pulled in so deep and falling for it.

Read the first chapter for free here.

Carving your own path.

I can hardly contain my excitement at becoming an official graduate student this Fall.

I am meeting my academic advisor this Friday. After a very long time -- or at least, what feels like a very long time -- I've finally figured out what I want to do. And, truth be told, I was a little scared when I realized that I didn't -- that I never -- want to go to law school. What do I do now? Where do I go from here? There were a multitude of possibilities, and perhaps, maybe even a little too many.

But I am so glad I took my time to sort through the options, and am even more glad that my parents supported me during my exploratory stage, encouraging me to find something that fit. There's nothing worse than having people pressure you into a commitment or force you down a path so far away from your own vision for yourself, and your life.

Slowly, but surely, I'm looking forward to moving forward.

Think Fluffy Thoughts (Cakes, that is).

Knowing my love for cupcakes and anything with a cute name, Manfriend has been meaning to take me to Fluffy Thoughts Cakes for a while now. Since we were visiting my family yesterday, we used this occasion to get some baked goods for my parents and brothers to enjoy.

The bakery seems to be a well-kept secret: inconspicuously tucked away in the back of a busines building on 1320 Old Chain Bridge Road in Mclean, VA, the small store was still swarming with activity -- we smiled at a man happily holding the door for us, bright teal-colored box in hand; I eavesdropped on conversations going on in the tiny tasting room, and quietly admired the beautiful, ornate wedding cakes on display while waiting in line.

What I like about this place is 1) the wide variety of baked goods available, and 2) the staff. I couldn't make up my mind about what to get, but the young girl helping us was incredibly patient and cheerful, and not once did I feel rushed or frustrated. I ended up getting a half-dozen cupcakes for my brother's birthday, some macarons for my parents (which turned out to be a great choice since my father was entertaining an old friend from France later that night), and (of course) a red velvet cupcake to go.

The verdict: The best part of my cupcake was its frosting. Soft and buttery, it was just the right of amount of sweet and smooth. I loved the quirky vanilla finish and overall taste of the red velvet, but thought the cupcake's texture itself was a tad dry and crumbly. A little disappointing, but my mother told me the macarons were divine!

All in all, I'd say stop by this bakery if (and only if) you're in the area -- very pleasant customer service, and the cupcakes are relatively well-priced and will hit the spot if you are looking for something fun and simple.

Friday fog.

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The weather in DC today makes me think of what London's would be like; gray and uninspiring. An old friend spent a semester abroad there, interning at the British Parliament. She would complain to me in our emails about how dreary the rain is. I would remind her that she was, after all, in London. Interning at the British Parliament, no less. Not many people can say they've witnessed those funny legal wigs in person.

I'm not in a foreign city, nor is my workplace prestigious, or even remotely entertaining... but, to someone else, my situation could be just as enviable. I have someone who loves me enough to pack my lunch for me, and drive me into the city for work when I need to get in early. I have a job that has "pizza parties" when its employees have been working hard; a job that will still pay me whether or not the government shuts down this coming Monday.

And so when I find myself complaining, I remind myself that no matter how foggy things currently are -- how uncertain the future feels, at this very moment -- we need to remember to keep perspective; to keep shining through.

Taking the plunge.

I am really loving this couple's Save the Date photo via Style Me Pretty.

Seriously, how cute is the bride-to-be?! On another note, I totally just made Manfriend promise, "Sure, I'll do cheesy stuff" when it comes to our own Save the Dates. Merry-go-rounds and obscenely giant lollipops, here we come!

Traveling Thursdays: Elephants in the room.

While browsing around for quirky, unique hotels for our sojourn in Bali this summer, I came across the Elephant Safari Park Lodge -- "the only hotel in the world with 'Elephant Chauffeur' service from your room"!

So of course I made Manfriend book a room there right away. I'm not sure if I am game enough to swim around and bathe alongside these giants and their babies yet (um, pachiderm germs), but the thought of spying a herd of elephants right outside the garden first thing in the morning makes me smile already.

July, July; can you be any slower in arriving? All of the photos and reviews on TripAdvisor is just building up the thrill and excitement!

Tonight.

Tonight, my soul is emboldened with the knowledge that I will continue to move mountains.

But my heart is especially tender tonight, swelling; swelling with the realization that you will always, always do whatever you can to help me reach the highest ones.

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