Nostalgia pt. 2

Mon came down to Lake Elsinore last week. Every time Mon is in town, I drive over to the other side of the lake. My mom’s place is in Wildomar, across the lake from the town of Lake Elsinore. I grew up in Lake Elsinore and most of my childhood memories are on that side of the lake.

I dropped off Mon at her home in the evening and drove back to my mom’s. I passed by a couple of my old homes. My family moved around a lot when I was a kid. I think that’s why I hate moving. We have lived at 5 different homes in Lake Elsinore alone.

I passed by Sue’s old street. She used to live at a house at the very end of the street. I remember going to Sue’s house for the first time for her birthday and we had a treasure hunt. I remember feeling kind of nervous and excited about being invited to Sue’s birthday party.

I drove into a housing track. The sky suddenly and dramatically grew dark. I may have just noticed that it was dark the instant I turned right into the neighborhood. It began to rain. I cautiously drove into the neighborhood. I didn’t know what emotional landmines I would encounter. It was so bizarre to look at the houses. They looked exactly the same. The paint, steps, doors and driveways looked exactly the same as when I was a child. I felt so different and changed, yet my surroundings reflected 1992.

I first drove down Heather Ln. I slowly passed by Gina Kim’s house. She was my best friend in elementary school until 4th grade. We had some sort of fight, I think. I don’t even remember. We became friends again later on. Her next-door neighbor on the left was Connie. I think she was a couple of years older than us. She died in a car accident when we were in elementary school. I think that was the first time that someone I knew died. It was so strange seeing her picture in announcements. Gina and I would look up at the window in Connie’s room and notice how everything was covered with white sheets. I used to calculate how old Connie would have been every year a new year book came out. I don’t know why I did that. I used to wonder quite often about her and what kind of life she would have lived. I did that until high school.

Isaac and Amanda lived to the right of Gina. I used to baby-sit them. I looked at their driveway and noticed the lines on the concrete. We used to play four square. We played handball on the garage door.

I proceeded to go up the hill and noticed that the street wasn’t as big as I remembered. The street wasn’t as steep as I remembered it either. I remember I rode my bike down the street once and my brakes broke, so I had to make the sharpest turn and I almost skidded on the ground. My heart still beats fast when I think about that moment. I thought about the time Peter (Gina’s brother) and I collided on our bikes when he rode his bike with no hands on the handlebars. He ran over my leg and I thought I was going to be crippled forever.

I finally came across 15060 Heather Ln., our first home in Lake Elsinore. My father ambitiously and foolishly bought a house that was too big and simply too much for our little family. He likes big houses. As a child, I loved the big house. My father nailed two big chalkboards in the garage. This became my classroom. I loved playing school. I remember I had a playroom and bedroom. I thoroughly enjoyed this house. I was too young to know about the financial burden of this house. I later learned of this and hated the house after that. I now dislike big houses. I suppose I could just focus on the happy moments. My half-sisters moved out of our house when we lived in Fountain Valley. However, they still visited us on holidays when we lived at this house. I really liked my oldest sister. My father’s favorite was my third oldest sister. But, I liked my oldest sister because she played with me. She called me Koala and bought me stationery.

My next-door neighbors were three brothers. They were all extremely tall and played basketball. Lance, the middle child was the same age as me. They all looked like giants to me. Jisan lived across the street. We were introduced to one another when I was six and she was five. They said that I was her “goh-moh” (aunt in Korean). I don’t think we really understood why, but she’s called me goh-moh ever since that moment. I guess her grandfather and my father are second cousins or something like that.

I slowly drove to the end of Heather Ln. and made a right turn. I made another right turn on Christina Ct. I slowed down even more. I stopped in front of a brown house. The lights were turned on and I wondered if the people who lived in that house were happy. I hoped that their happy memories would overpower my miserable memories in that house. I think we moved to this house when I was in junior high. That’s when I began to understand the financial burdens of my parents. I talked to the landlord for my parents, lied to the landlord, pleaded with the landlord. This girl from Korea lived with us. She was and still is annoyingly critical of me. Shinwoong lived with us. We get along now, but we had a few explosive fights while we lived there. It’s funny when I think about it now. We would scream and slam doors. I don’t think I could do that now.

Hyuk lived with us at this house too. I really liked him. I thought that he could be the big brother I always wanted. He didn’t talk much, but we had a couple of deep conversations. The electricity went out one night, so we sat outside in the backyard and talked for a couple of hours. He mostly talked about his girlfriend in Korea. The moon was so bright that night. I liked listening to him tell me stories about Korea and his friends. One day, I heard violent knocking on the door. I opened the door to find our infuriated landlord. He began yelling at me. I froze. I had dealt with him before, but for some reason at that moment, I couldn’t do anything. He towered over me and I remember his angry face. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so angry. I froze in fear. I felt an arm on my upper chest pushing me back. I stepped back alarmed and saw Hyuk’s back in front of me. I don’t even remember what he said to the landlord. I don’t think he really even spoke English at the time. But, he made the landlord go away. He closed the door and turned around. I was still frozen. He asked me if I was okay. I sat down on the ground and cried. He sat next to me and just listened to me cry. He didn’t hug me, pat me or comfort me. He simply listened to me cry. That’s all I needed.

As I looked inside the house once more, I decided to leave those moments in that house. I think one positive aspect of moving a lot is that I can leave certain memories in a particular house. Each house is a photo album, filled with snapshots of my life while I lived there. I decided to file the albums away. It’s not being in denial. I acknowledge that they’re there. I browse through them once in a while. I just don’t want to get caught up in those moments and eventually get trapped in those moments. As I write about those moments now, I can reflect and move forward. I can see that I have grown the most and depended on God the most during those seemingly difficult times. I never want to forget that lesson. I hope to live in contentment, thanksgiving and joy. I want to be able to drive by these houses and smile as I pass by. Maybe I’ll test it out in a month or so.

Magritte

The Magritte exhibit was fantastic. I felt as if I stepped into one of his paintings. I thought that the exhibit was quite creative and I appreciated the thematic flow of the entire exhibit. The exhibit was of course filled with Magritte, but also other artists whose works were inspired by Magritte.

I like Magritte because he doesn't provide any answers. His titles don't make any sense. Most of his works don't make any sense. I remember learning about Magritte's pipe in high school. I was really impressed, still am by his way of thinking. This painting rocked my world.

Music Nostalgia

I’m almost done copying all of my CDs onto my new laptop. I transferred most of my music last weekend. My mom kept sitting next to me and trying to calculate how much money I’ve spent on music. I told her to stop because it was going to drive me nuts.

As I was copying CDs and listening to a lot of songs I hadn’t listened to in years, I couldn’t help but get caught up in nostalgia and warm fuzzy feelings as certain songs, albums, artists evoked memories and feelings of a certain period in my life.

The Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel: Elementary School. I wasn’t hip enough to get into New Kids on the Block or other pop artists of the time. I sat around and listened to The Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel when I did my homework.

The Carpenters: 4th grade. I think I listened to them obsessively in the 4th grade. This is a bit embarrassing, but every time it rained and it happened to be a Monday, I was so excited to listen to “Rainy Days and Mondays” and stare out the window. I still remember those moments so vividly. That song is so depressing. I don’t remember what went through my little 4th grade mind when I listened to that song.

Joni Mitchell: My obsession with Joni Mitchell began in the 7th grade. Once again, I don’t think I fully understood her lyrics, but I was attracted to her music and listened obsessively. I think I really liked her voice. Her songs remind me of junior high.

The 60’s: I think I really got into the music of the ‘60s my freshman year of high school. I worked on a documentary about the Vietnam War for History Day and listened to A LOT of music from the ‘60s to determine which songs to include in the doc. Whenever I hear any songs from Woodstock and that time, I remember my History Day experience. I began to appreciate protest songs.

G.Love & Special Sauce: I remember sitting in Sue’s Oldsmobile listening to 91X and listening to the middle and end of “Rodeo Clowns” for the first time. We both really liked the song. We listened to 91X every chance we had for the next couple of weeks hoping that they would play the song again and tell us who the artist was. We finally caught it on the air. I bought the CD that day. G.Love & Special Sauce reminds me of riding around hot, dry Lake Elsinore in Sue’s car.

Incubus definitely reminds me of high school. “Stellar” was ‘our’ song. I smile and laugh when I think about it now. I guess it was cute.

MTV2 discoveries: I couldn’t fall asleep one night, so I turned on MTV2 to watch music videos (because they actually played music videos while MTV was filled reality shows… I think that’s how it is now too). Ok Go’s “Get Over It” video came on. I liked the catchy beats and looooved the video: every time they emphatically sang, “Hey!”, they showed a stack of hay. Brilliant! Right after the Ok Go video, they played India Arie’s “Video”. That’s when I fell in love with India Arie. I bought both CDs the next day. I think I’m an impulsive CD buyer.

India Arie: I find all of her albums so spiritually refreshing. Her first album reminds me of my senior year in high school and freshman year of college. I listened to her second album non-stop while I was in D.C. I am now listening to her third album non-stop. It’s amazing how I find that her albums seem to fit reflect what’s going on in my life at the time of their releases. I’m sure most women feel this way about her albums. I see her growth through her albums and I’m able to track my own growth through her music as well.

Coldplay: I listened to ‘A Rush of Blood to the Head’ a lot while I was in Africa. “Politik” always reminds me of South Africa.

Gracie Mix vol. 1, 2, 3, 4: I think I expanded my taste in music mostly in college. I wasn’t one of those cool kids in high school who knew all about the indie bands and what not. I can attribute the widening of my musical taste to Dan’s mixes. I never grow tired of them and they’re filled with bands that I would have never known. Plus, like India Arie’s albums, each mix reminds me of a certain time or year.

So, I think that’s all for now. I recommend that you take a look through your hundreds or thousands songs you may have and listen to those songs you haven’t heard in some time, the ones you’re embarrassed you still have, the ones that make you giddy or sad… and enjoy a wistful moment.

Snapshot: Letter

I like writing letters and cards. I feel the same glee as when I take a picture with my Polaroid camera. A letter or card captures the thoughts and emotions of a certain moment. A snapshot of one’s mind and heart. The documentation is so immediate, yet the delivery is delayed. It’s quite mysterious and fascinating to me. By the time a person receives a letter or card, the writer may feel entirely different. I suppose this doesn’t relate to the internet or emails as much because one can instantly send and receive letters at the speed of a face-to-face conversation without the actual face-to-face part.

The postal service amazes me. I think there’s something quite special about physically sending and receiving a letter. Is it the physical touch? Perhaps the faint aroma of the writer’s space? The smudge from a chocolate bar, a small splash of transparency from the citric acid that squirted from biting an orange slice? I believe something is lost from our direct connectedness in the form of the internet and cell phones. I find it quite beautiful waiting for a letter, re-reading a letter over and over again while waiting for the next one, contemplating a letter. I think we’ve lost the contemplating and feeling aspects of communication because we simply don’t have time to process.

I suppose I have mixed feelings about it. I like how we can all be so globally connected; I’m a news junkie and love emails, blogging. I guess I just miss letters and waiting. I remember Helen, Lokelani and I used to write letters to one another all the time when we were little. We would mail them during the week because we didn’t go to school together and it was so fun to read about what song they were listening to on the radio, what boy they liked that day, and how they spent their day. I would imagine their rest of the week. I think we’re losing room for imagination.

I recently thought about ending my cell phone service and investing in a house phone with answering machine. Remember those? I think I get so sucked into my cell phone when I’m out and about – driving, walking, shopping, etc. I think it’s time I got off the phone and just enjoyed the moments, lived in the moments. When I’m on the phone while doing any other activity, I’m involved in the conversation. I’m off in some imaginary/real world where conversations take place. Even though my friend’s not physically there with me, I feel that he/she is with me in our conversation world. I think I want to miss and feel the loss/absence of the person, then appreciate the time that we spend together. I feel like I’m missing out on the actual moments before me. I don’t think I’m making much sense because I really like talking with people on the phone, especially when I see something that reminds me of them, or vice versa. I think I can have the best of both worlds somehow.

I miss my Polaroid camera. I should take more pictures. I’m going to start carrying around the clunker again.

Future Plans

near future:

• finish AmeriCorps* service
• attend Empower '07 conference in May
• possibly visit Korea and this perfect international law school I found

next one/two/three years future options:

• teach English in Korea for a year: I can eat lots of yummy food, build relationships with students, build a relationship with my father
• apply to law school: I'm scared.
• become an analyst at the D.A.'s office: basically an office job. It's secure, good money, but it doesn't excite me.
• become a counselor at the jail: It's similar to being a high school counselor - planning schedules, helping individuals prepare for reentry into the community. This possibility probably excites me the most because I can have one-on-one meetings and be creative with the position. I can even develop curriculum and teach a class. I really see this as a potential ministry. JJ was trying to scare me from the position. Actually, he was just warning me. He told me that I would be surrounding myself with people who are not emotionally, mentally and sometimes physically well. He said that I would be vulnerable to various illnesses. I was telling my mom about this job and what JJ said to me. She replied, But you like those kinds of people.

Another response:

Dearest Youngeun,
Those are good options. If you want to take a few days in New York to clear your head, let me know. We can arrange some gallery-hopping afternoons for you, concluded by scones and tea.

Love,
Me

It's always so nice to feel understood.