compromises

I think it happens about twice a year.

I call up my parents frequently, something I neglect to do so often, to ask for some advice and prayers. It was about transferring schools in my freshman year. It was about where to spend vacations. It was about getting a car. It was about what to do with the used car. It was about how to get to places. It was about getting another used car. It was about job offers. It was about a job I didn't get. It was about loneliness. It was about my future plans.

Small decisions gear the bigger ones,

and the bigger ones can be life-changing.

There are regrets and "what-if's," but life goes on.

Too many compromises in life, for it to go on in a safer way.

I used to be told that I could do whatever my heart desired to, and I believed it. I thought I could and would do whatever I put my heart to.

But this society says that I can't. It shows me that it cannot be done.

"What does your heart really desire anyway?" it whispers.

"I don't know! I don't know anymore!" I cry out, and I compromise.

this is what i do

"What do you do?" Many people ask: college friends, LAFSC friends, acquaintances, family relatives, friends of family relatives, and as an introductory question when meeting new people.

I work at a nonprofit organization called Good Neighbors.

And this is my job description:

• Works to sustain positive and mutually-rewarding relations between the Good Neighbors USA and its donors.
• Oversees the facilitation of donor recognition and assists in the coordination of various fund raising events related activities for potential donors.
• Oversee events logistics
• Compose letters, compile appropriate invitation lists for events, engage featured program participant, create event programs and provide program materials
• Establishes and manages donor information tracking including acknowledgments, recognitions, on-going communications and continued cultivation of past and current major donors to enhance relationships with children or projects sponsorships.
• Increases the likelihood of continued contributions through personalized mailings of progress report, newsletters, and reminder letters.
• Design, develop, manage and execute the bi-annual sponsored child progress reports.
• Collaboratively work with Development Director and Director of E-Marking Strategy.
• Update donors in both print and Web-based publications.
• Additional office support as needed.

Although the organization is really big, having offices in almost 30 countries

worldwide now, the one in Los Angeles is fairly small (a lot smaller than most offices in the field) since it just started a couple of years ago. And one of the perks of working at a small office is that I get to asked to be involved in many other things that may not fit in my job description, allowing me to learn more in depth about nonprofit organization's structures and mechanics.

I am thankful for the work I do, reminded each time as I go through the updated pictures of the children from our field offices, going through their handwritten or drawn letters for their sponsors, and when I read encouraging notes from our sponsors. I have learned a lot, and am in the process of learning more, trying to make the sponsors happier with their heartly donations.

downtown art walk

I got a condom for the first time. For free.

If Miracle Mile art walk got me free entry to LACMA (Los Angeles County Museum of Arts), downtown art walk displayed all sorts of art in its living form. Not losing sight of the friends in the midst of the busy streets itself was an art.

As soon as Isis pointed at her favorite building in downtown, my favorite Jay-Z song, "Empire State of Mind" started playing in the food trucks lot we were heading to. Surrounded by skyscrapers' lights, the unusual chill breeze, and inspired by the sweet melody, I felt like I was in New York. Then the oh-so-yummy smell. The lot was full of food trucks, and as Joe put it, it was about which ethnicity to go with--Argentine, Vietnamese, Korean, Chinese, American, Greek, Brazilian, Italian--all in fusion trucks (for instance, you'd ask "wanna try Korean taco or Vietnamese taco?" instead of, "you want beef taco or chicken taco?"). Not only were there meal trucks, but also boba tea truck, dessert truck, smoothie truck, among others. I could not have asked for more. And ironically, here is where Peter and I decided to try Dtox for 10 days, to go with a healthier diet. Just like good Los Angelinos.

Few photography, fun modern sculptures, cool pottery, distinctive drawings, awesome recycled art, and as usual for me, incomprehensible paintings. As if the art work display and music performances in galleries and on the streets were not enough, this culture salad of a city showcased a wide variety of people and their lifestyles. A group of people chanted, drumming, hopping around the streets in their distinctive clothing, a barber shop cranking hip hop with a DJ, hosting a dance party, many many people handing out flyers of their upcoming event or for the cause they believe in.

"Free cotton! Free cotton!"
I heard, and I happily accepted one.
"What is this?" I opened it looking for the cotton, nowhere to be found.
But there was something else, with something that read: Planned Parenthood.
"That's what they say," Joe said.

my keeper

"Two to Tango" by Louis Armstrong played in my car as I drove to work from LAX, after saying a tearful goodbye to Alvin. The song that I used to bounce and dance to sounded so cruel then, left alone, again, in this deserted city.

Mandy Moore was playing this morning on the way to LAX to drop Sam off, the joyful, creative, smart, tech-savy one in the family. He was here for 2 days and a half to visit me, and I was happy, laughing at his jokes and listening to the Dordt news, feeding him the food he missed, giving him a brief tour of Hollywood.

"It's Sunday today, huh? Let's listen to some Christian music instead," Sam said in a joyful tone, like the good cheerful brother I've always known. I asked for him to put Fernando Ortega on, he put him on shuffle. "I should look him up. I like him," Sam said after two songs, just like the good lifelong friend I've always known.

I don't exactly remember since when, but saying goodbye to Sam has been hard. I always wish I could have been a better sister when we were together, and that I would have given him everything he needed. Then I feel alone. And "Give Me Jesus" by Fernando Ortega played.

In the morning, when I rise. Give me Jesus.
And when I am alone. Give me Jesus.
And when I come to die. Give me Jesus.
You can have all in this world, but give me Jesus.

Monterey, CA

Wednesday, Sept. 1st. Los Angeles.
"What are you doing for the labor day weekend?"
"Nothing. You?"
"I don't know yet. I'm getting an extra day off."
"Come visit me! [pause] There's a cheap airfare on..."
"Yeah? Should I? Should I?"

Saturday, Sept. 4th. SFO airport.
"Haniiiiiiiiiiiii"
"Aaaaaaaaah"
And hugs. And greetings. And 'nice-to-meet-you' to her boyfriend. And talking.
"It doesn't feel like I hadn't seen you for awhile!"
"The last time was...last Thanksgiving when you came to visit me in LA."
Jean, her boyfriend, "That has been awhile then."
"Well, Jean, it just means that Harah didn't really miss me."
And laughter.

It has been this way for..about five years, now. Prompt decisions and appeals to travel. Harah has always been easy to talk to, who listened and gave advices, who was open for advices and contradictory ideas, who was there for you to cook for you and be with you.

We caught up in the car, on our way back to Monterey, Jean being our silent faithful driver. Harah informed me of our schedule for the next three days as if she was a travel agent.
Jean and Harah seemed like a married couple already--everything they did seemed natural, and I could sense the maturity and depth of their love when they talked about each other in the other's absence. They looked lovely together. Living in this beautiful city, one of the honeymoon places in this country, maybe they had adapted themselves into a honeymooney couple. And maybe it was them, maybe it was the place, but I had never missed Alvin as much as I did there.

Jean and Harah took me to 17-mile drive, an aquarium, and......many other gorgeous places I cannot remember the names of (sorry Harah :/). One of "Jean's pointers" in 17-mile drive insisted of a path through a luxurious hotel, right besides a huge golf course. The green pastures followed by rocky blue ocean. I couldn't stop letting out my admiration: Waaaaw. Aaah. Ooooh. Haaaa!! Pictures. Food. Food. Pictures. Everything with a good amount of time. And more food. Maybe that's why I like traveling with Harah so much.
I even got to visit a military base with two marines who go to Harah's church to practice their Korean. I expected something I had seen in Hurt Locker, but it was rather....well, unbusy and peaceful.

"You literally saw EVERYTHING around here," Jean would reiterate on my last day there, when we went to a sushi restaurant where Harah used to work at.
"Fiiine. I won't come back to bother you. You come to LA next time, then."

Beautiful people in beautiful places. Another awesome trip with Harah+1. Check.

extras

I found out that my friends who get gigs as extras get paid more than I do, a full-time worker at a nonprofit.
"Whaaaaaa," I said in awe. I mean, seriously?
If it were for money, I wouldn't have even applied to nonprofits. But the reality seemed somewhat ironic to me.

"Man, I should be an extra on the weekends."
"You should! But most productions don't film on the weekends."
"Ah. Fair enough. Makes perfect sense."
"You can still try. You never know."
Luke kindly instructed me, telling me the process of being one, and working as one. I was and am still hesitant, but thought, what the heck, it would be fun, at least. He told me where to go, and I downloaded the application form: Full legal name, union name, phones, sizes (bust/bra, waist, hips, dresses, pants, shoes), age range, etc. etc. I thought, geez, too much information! Not even my parents know all this. Then casually, "Will you do nude work?"
I still have to get used to this city.

An Education

Unlike most parents in Korea, my parents never pressured me to study. Even coming from a family full of educators, and an educator herself, my mom supported my dad's theory: one learns the best when traveling, not in classrooms. So instead, we traveled whenever we could.
In fact, I had to beg my parents to send me to a private academic institute that everyone else was going. "I'm gonna fall behind!" I'd rant, but my dad calmly would say, "you can still keep your grades without going to that."

"...you should tell us why you educate us," firmly says Jenny (Carey Mulligan) to her headmistress (Emma Thompson), after being startled by her parents' reaction to the marriage proposal (you don't need the school if you have a good husband). I paused the movie and thought, yeah, what's the point of the education system when one can learn so much more by "living it"? If you know the answer, or have any idea, please enlighten me. I continued with the film without having a conclusion.

I was not happy with Jenny--I could not sympathize nor empathize with her, as you are supposed to with the main actors. Carey was dazzling in her beauty and acting, but I found the character hard to love, unlike for many others. I wondered what she was doing the whole time, when it was clear that she wasn't in love with David (Peter Sarsgaard). And I honestly couldn't imagine that David was married already, like I could from the very beginning when I saw Up in the Air. And up until the revelation, I believed that he was madly in love with Jenny. And maybe he was. But either way, such idea sickens me now.

The father (Alfred Molina) bringing Jenny some tea and biscuits, and telling her about listening to the radio that announced that C.S. Lewis had moved to Cambridge, and all through the closed door, was heartbreaking. I melted with Jenny and with the father, played by one of my favorite actors. What a wonderful scene.

Did I enjoy the movie? Yes--it was smart, well-paced, charmingly-acted, and immensely entertaining. Did I like the movie? Well, yes, I think.
Right after watching the film, I sat still trying to think the message the filmmakers wanted to get through. Education system is bad? But Jenny ends up going to Oxford and lives "happily ever after" with a new boyfriend. Don't trust much older men to be your lover? Well, Jenny knew that he was a con, yet still wanted to take advantage of him. It wasn't about trust, really. Was it?