Protected: Letting go
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Category: Musings
Protected: Grand scheme of adopting: Getting in front of the adoption line
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“Jae-Ha Kim is livin’ on phat beach”
I never met Aaron Hawkins, but I knew that he occasionally mentioned me on his blog, Uppity-Negro.com. Once, the fansite title on his blog was my name. Granted, this was during a period when he was doing this to be cheeky more than anything else. Hawkins was one of the first African-American bloggers. He was smart, thought-provoking and funny. I used to pop over to his blog every so often to see what he was up to.
Sung-Bong Choi’s audition on “Korea’s Got Talent”
Sung-Bong Choi, 22, didn’t end up winning “Korea’s Got Talent,” but he won over thousands of fans with his talent and courage. Orphaned at the age of 3 and beaten at the orphanage he was left at, he ran away and lived on the streets.
Boyfriend: “Let’s Get It Started” (K-pop)
My toddler likes this K-pop boy band called Boyfriend. He insists on watching the video for the group’s signature song, “Boyfriend,” at least a zillion times a day and is getting pretty good at imitating the dance moves.
Protected: My son isn’t in preschool yet — surely his life is ruined
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My father’s death — and life
Our father’s goal in bringing his family from South Korea to the United States was to ensure that his children would receive a good education. He and our mother instilled in us the idea that studying hard would be our ticket to having a better life than they had. And they were right. But while the three of us are well educated, we lack our father’s endless thirst for knowledge.
Everyone’s a critic
A “critic” at a publication I never heard of suggested that I not write reviews for films that I didn’t like. For real. He really said this. He didn’t seem to understand that at the Chicago Sun-Times (where I was employed at the time), editors didn’t give reporters the option of only writing about things that they liked. He argued with me about it until I finally just stopped responding to his emails. Who was he? Honestly, I can’t even remember.
Lessons From a Sleeping Baby
I feel a surge of gratitude when I look in on my children fast asleep. Penny, with her arms splayed, as if to embrace the universe … William, curled on his side and cuddling his giraffes … Marilee, swaddled tight with only her round face in view … And yet learning how to care for them comes when they are not nearly so adorable. It comes when I am willing to offer myself as a calming presence, willing to sing one more lullaby or change one more diaper or kiss a forehead one more time. Love is not an emotion so much as it is a series of actions.
My biggest fan
Every now and then, I get an e-mail that I like to share with my readers. This is actually a letter from a reader who doesn’t like my work. And who said as much in an e-mail to one of the travel editors who runs my syndicated column. I’ve changed the names because it seems the right thing to do.
The customer is always right on eBay, even when they’re wrong
The customer is always right, especially on eBay. Thanks to eBay’s desire to attract more buyers, it’s become a perfect way for dishonest buyers to order an item, claim they never received it, complain to eBay and have the online company mediate between the buyer and the seller. And guess what? The buyer almost always wins.
Protected: The Bee Family
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Protected: The Peanut is 2-1/2 years old today
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These are a few of my favorite things …
I am not one of those women who packs a lot of shoes. I like to travel with one carryon bag if I can get away with it. So while I may bring along a pair of fancy heels for dinners, the shoes I like to travel and sightsee in are my Merrells. Whether it’s their sneakers or sandals, I find that I can get away with just one pair. I’ve only been disappointed with their brand once when I purchased a pair of sandals that lasted barely two years before falling apart.
My Own Private India
Joel Stein writes: Unlike some of my friends in the 1980s, I liked a lot of things about the way my town changed: far better restaurants, friends dorky enough to play Dungeons & Dragons with me, restaurant owners who didn’t card us because all white people look old. But sometime after I left, the town became a maze of charmless Indian strip malls and housing developments. Whenever I go back, I feel what people in Arizona talk about: a sense of loss and anomie and disbelief that anyone can eat food that spicy.
