That writing life.

This was the first week where I started to feel frustrated with a highly visible project. 

The goal kept changing and there were too many cooks in the kitchen.

Feelings were hurt. Time was wasted. And I found myself missing the mark, writing the wrong things, again and again, depending on who you talked to and what their moods were like that day.

But then a parent friend reached out, expressing her excitement over the discovery of our company's products and our newest curriculum, and I realized that it is all part of the process. At the end of the day, we are doing something amazing. Our mission is important. My words mean something. My work is impactful.

Then I wrapped up three more deadlines nearly a week ahead of schedule, and spent the rest of my Friday afternoon chatting while nibbling on stinky cheese and bidding a farewell to a coworker whom I felt like I've known for years instead of months.

I'm right where I'm supposed to be. 

Tearing it all down

Sometimes you just have to, to start anew.

When one door closes, another one opens. 

We're told it's going to be a new hotel.

Short and tiny.

I am having such a great reading week so far. Thank you to my husband and my blogger Secret Santa friend.

The Other Language by Francesca Marciano

There is something to be revered about the successful short story writer - I am convinced it's a mix of part art, part science, part innate talent. Many of the characters were better developed, with more personal depth achieved in a few pages, than entire chapters from some novels out there. From a never-before worn, yet endlessly adored Chanel dress to learning a new language to sharing an intimate experience with thousands as one, I am a big believer in books finding their way to you when you need them the most. This one was exactly it. 

The Tiny Book of Tiny Stories (Vol. 1 & 2) by Joseph Gordon-Levitt

As if any of us had another reason to love on JGL, he mentally architects this creative concept series and then collaboratively engineers it into fruition with the beautiful, brilliant, poignant works of anon writers and artists everywhere. I just sat there, in wonder. 

A complete life.

And so the year is coming to an end, soon, and as if on cue, a scheduled recurring habit, I always feel a tinge of nostalgia. 

These last few years have been some of the best ones of my life, and in spite of my social circles shrinking from year to year, and my days becoming less complicated, I have never felt more full, more whole. 

2014 was the culmination of so many dreams come true. He carried me through the door into our first home together. I walked across the graduation stage as they called my name. I wore a crown of flowers in my hair and danced with childhood friends until I could no longer feel my body, just the music and laughter. 

There are days where I wish I could store every single memory to adore them, over and over again. And yet I know their beauty resides in the moment, in the being, that is fleeting, evading.  

It'll always feel like the first Christmas

Our first Christmas together, five years ago, he had built for me a small nightstand, white in color, imperfect in its construction, an English version of Le Petit Prince carefully stacked between other titles while my cousins gifted me the original version, in French, that same year. 

I have had four different addresses recorded to my name since then and gasped out loud at his suggestion of donating the item, made with love from his two hands, when we moved in our new home the first week of this soon-to-be past year. 

Hands that continue to build and fix and make this home more his and mine and ours together. That is his love language to me while I am still trying to find out my own for him. 

And while we sat there, buried in blankets with no heat in the house, him caressing me while I grasped on to a vintage book he managed to track down for me, both of us breathing quietly, staring at the Christmas lights illuminating our faces and bodies across the living room, he said things to me that made the illusion of time between then and now oscillate between five hours and five decades all at once. 

All is well because we understand each other. All is well because we have each other.

The old, with new eyes.

In another life I would have become an architect. But I lacked the focus and discipline to make it past ARCH101 in college,

so now I appreciate the fact that there are two architects in the family, and that my husband always loves (tolerates?) going on antiquing adventures with me. 

I have always loved learning the history of things. Everyone has a story.

I am so silly.

Husband and I recently asked each other, 

"What do you want for Christmas this year?"

I thought about it.

And thought about it.

And all I could think of was, 

I am so silly. Everything I want is silly.

...

I mean, wouldn't you want a pet piglet (or two), too?

Dressing down.

Love these silly sweaters. They're both currently available on Forever21.com.

Quality time.

It's been a tough eight weeks for my first term this Fall semester, but I am so glad it is FINALLY over. Now the waiting for final grades begins and I am hoping my GPA remains just as perfectly untainted.

Let me tell you: Building a fashion start-up with three strangers-turned-partners was beyond stressful (especially while working full-time and freelancing on the side), but our (fictitious) business was deemed most viable and likely to succeed after each team presented their pitch. Yes!

To celebrate my few days of freedom until the start of the second term next week, the Fiancé and I took a short Satur-date day trip to Ladew Topiary Gardens for some quality time with each other and Mother Nature. On our way back home, we randomly stumbled on a farm/pumpkin patch and picked up some crunchy pumpkin chocolate-flavored popcorn, along with a warm apple caramel walnut pie.

We then topped off the night with dinner at a local hot pot restaurant, which fully hit the spot after an entire day outside enjoying the beautiful but brisker, cooler autumn weather.

I then agreed to get into the spirit of Halloween by watching Evil Dead II with the Fiancé. He is a horror movie JUNKIE while I am a complete pussy, scaredy cat. I screamed my head off and now I'm still awake because I'm afraid I'll have nightmares when I fall asleep.

The little things. Always the little things.

National Book Month.

How are you celebrating it this October?

Banned books:

http://m.pinterest.com/pin/81627811967349634/

Free e-books of aforementioned banned books:

http://moneyland.time.com/2012/10/02/free-ebooks-for-banned-book-week/

I miss my book club -- which is entirely made up of various blogger friends, actually. I loved learning about marketing and advertising this term, but I can't wait for this final exam and group presentation to be done and over with already so that I can get back to reading for leisure before the next term starts up.

Also: Good people read good books. Fact.

Feel free to recommend your favorites!

Plans deferred.

We had great plans to visit the pumpkin patch and go apple picking today -- and we still may later today -- but the Fiancé's immune system finally broke down and he caught this weeklong cold I've been carting around with me.

So what does this girl's guilty conscience do? Why, try her hand at making congee, of course. It turned out quite well for a first-timer.

I initially used the rice cooker but the rice came out, well, like rice. So I transferred it to a bigger pot and filled it with water. I then threw in two frozen fillets of tilapia and a fistful of corn and green peas, and let it cook for an additional 30 mins or so.

Can you tell I had no idea what I was doing? The porridge turned out to be delightfully yummy, with just the right consistency the second time around. It was also slightly bland, but nothing a little soy sauce and fresh black pepper couldn't fix.

While I was slaving away in the kitchen this morning, a friend whom I've worked with texted me a photo of business books. Apparently he thinks of me as a "power woman".

Little does he know that I was playing housewife-in-training this morning. What can I say? I'm a "Kim"eleon! ;)

He proposed.

And lucky, lucky me.  I get to hold on to those amazing million little moments, again and again and again.

Celebrating Valentine's Day: Tell them how much you love them.

With your very own Hallmark-worthy creation.

Celebrating Valentine's Day: Wear something frisky.

Then get cheeky, just for him.

Cooking -- with you, and for you.

I think I am one of the luckiest girls out there, as Manfriend loves to cook -- and he's a great one, at that.  On one of our earliest dates, he made me a delicious Thai-themed three-course meal, with pork spring rolls, red curry duck, and a medley of mango desserts.  I remember telling myself to wait at least a week to officially fall in love with him after that night's dinner!

Some of my favorite moments in our relationship involve us simply cooking together.  Whether it's a quick breakfast on lazy Sundays, or more elaborate recipes inspired by our foodie cravings du jour, I really love the time we spend in his (and sometimes my) kitchen.  Mind you, cooking was probably one of my least enjoyable activities before I met him -- and, admittedly, it still kind of is -- but he has been such a wonderful, patient, and humble teacher, that his enthusiasm for picking out the right spices and slicing and dicing vegetables just the right way has quietly transferred onto me over the past two years. 

Since living on my own, it has truly been a daunting task to force myself to cook for, well, myself.  To be quite honest, there are days where I am eyeing my stash of cookies and other assorted snacks and I come very, very close to qualifying them all as "dinner".  (Oh, the shame!) 

But I have also realized that the better I eat, the more energy and focus I have at work and at school.  This knowledge alone has really helped fuel my desire to eat healthy and be more careful about what I feed my body.  The fact that I am now paying my way towards a graduate degree has also reinforced my willingness to save money by cooking at home, versus eating out. 

So far, my repertoire mainly consists of chicken and vegetable soup and a variety of pastas.  I know, nothing to brag, but coming from someone who previously only knew how to make omelets and scrambled eggs, I'm excited to see what I can cook up next!

Embracing another New Year.

For 2012, I'll be living the life I always imagined -- waking up with the sun, going above and beyond at work, doing my best in school, wander around the city, traveling to others, spending time with my loved ones, kissing the man who has my heart, laughing with my girlfriends, making time for writing, reading every night before bed.

What more could anyone ever want?

Suspended in time and space.

I am going to spend the bulk of my time off snuggling in bed with these two.

Lucky and happy that Manfriend has plans of joining us, too.

Mother Nature.

Last Saturday, Manfriend and I went on a six-hour hike with our recently wedded friends on Old Rag Mountain.

The fog and morning air. The fall foliage. The sun. The sky. The view, from way up there. 

It was amazing, and overwhelming, and perfect, and decaying, and dying, and most of all, it was beautiful. It all filled me up with something I can't quite describe; can't quite put into words. 

In the age of social networking, information overload, and endless competition - in my everyday life of noisy commutes, and hustle and bustle of city living, and personal pursuit of knowledge and lofty aspirations - at the very peak of that mountain, in those very moments, I was so relieved and content to simply just be.

Traveling Thursdays: Our time at Waka Shorea Resort, by the Balinese shore.

Manfriend and I spent a total of ten days in Bali, two of which we stayed at the Waka Shorea Resort.

An environmental sanctuary located on the shore of West Bali's National Park, the natural and aquatic surroundings made for an incredibly unique and memorable experience (heightened by the fact that we got ferried over by moonlight the first night we checked in). Secluded and isolated, guests can go hiking, diving, biking, or simply laze about by the beach or pool.

For a (slightly prissy) girl who has never been camping (yet), I surprisingly had an amazing time. The bungalows were rustic and charming - and I loved sighting various wild animals freely roaming about during various times of the day. This place isn't for everyone, I'm sure, but it's all about adjusting your expectations and having a sense of adventure: the resort is in the middle of the forest, after all!

But the moments that I have come to cherish the most, are now some of the most peaceful, wonderful memories I have taken back home with me from that beautiful island nation. From watching the sun slowly paint the skies and ocean water together, and eating all of our meals while we eavesdropped on the waves' conversations with the shore -- it is small little things like these that make any trip truly and entirely our own.



Moving in a different direction.

I received some disappointing news recently about a job I had applied to nearly two months ago.

It was a process that took much longer than both sides anticipated (punctuated by my being out of the country for two weeks, I'm sure) as we went through several interviews and conversations. In the end, the Senior Vice-President sent me a letter, with two complimentary tickets to the organization's (amazing) museum, with no formal offer for me to accept.

Maybe this last act served to soften up the blow, but I highly appreciated the generosity. I honestly never knew a rejection letter could sound so gracious -- which made it mildly more sad that I will not be joining the department. Everyone was genuinely nice and personable, and it was probably one, if not the, most enjoyable "interviews" I have ever had. We all shared quite a few laughs, and the same sense of dry, sarcastic humor. My could-have-been boss and I talked about various topics like fashion, travel, and books, and he even emailed me an incredibly flattering note regarding my accomplishments and abilities the day after we met.

But, to be completely frank, the disappointment was incredibly shortlived. Because the words that stayed with me the longest -- long after I had heard and read them and folded the letter and its contents away -- were "moving in a different direction". Because it was in that rejection that a realization also came to light; that even though I greatly admired the organization and its mission, the bulk of the position itself did not align with my strengths and interests. And so, to be completely frank once again, I am mostly just more relieved that I can now move on.

Because that's what it all it comes down to, no? We keep on moving, moving, moving in a new direction. Everything happens for a reason.