JJangie Trends: Hibeko

Ordering online is probably one of the riskiest things to do – especially shopping for clothes. People tend to worry whether the sizing is right for them or if the colors suit their tones. Most importantly, is the quality in the material worth the money you pay for it?

Recently this year, I discovered a shop called Hibeko while sorting through various Instagram models.

As expected, it is an online store only, and their shipments are based in Los Angeles, California.

Usually when I come across potential stores to pick through, truthfully, I am a “picky eater” to the name of the brand at the start. In this case, the title itself gave its own charm.

Hibeko is a hand-made, street-styled clothing brand for both men and women to enjoy. For those who are not familiar with the term, street style is majorly associated with youth culture by the influence of popular music, trends, and major urban centers.

For the individuals who would love to rock a cool and unique brand while working a nice color aesthetic, this store is a GO!!

My first two purchases from the site were their very own Autograf Hoodie which I chose in the shade of sand, which is more of a light creme color, and a Showstopper Hoodie in jet black. In the end, I did pay a hefty price in the end for just two items ranging a little over $100. The products took about a little over a week in domestic shipping to arrive since I do live in the West Coast.

Prior to my first look, both came in the brand’s own custom black tag attached by a sleek black string and a small black safety pin. Now, some might think I am crazy.

“Who would pay that amount of money for such apparel?!” so here’s what to expect!


Hibeko’s Autograf Hoodie is somewhat similar to a basic-everyday kangaroo hoodie a person would wear to stay warm during the fall and winter seasons. This item was released in the site’s SS-17 Essentials Collection along with various of other shades and title-printed sweaters. However, what really gives the street-styled feel to the hoodie is the fact that it is a bit oversized when you match with your true size. With the over drop shoulders, the style gives a nice baggy aesthetic without overdoing it. Unlike other Instagram shops where sizing majorly comes from Chinese manufacturers and dealing with the difference in “Asian Size”, this is just right.

In addition, an autograph of “HBKO” is across on both sleeves and a small print on the left chest with its clean black strokes. Depending on the shade of the hoodie, the autographs can come in different colors to suit its base. As for the quality, the sweater is soft and has quite the strong material to last for quite a long time.


The “Showstopper Hoodie” places itself in its own spotlight in my heart! Out of the two products, this sweater is by far my favorite. Not only did I like the the color  but the thickness of the material is what really got me surprised. For this, I really recommend wearing this only in cold seasons. Like the previous, the sizing does come a bit oversized when matching with my true size – especially the hood. If you are a daring fashionista who would wear a full-on black outfit during warmer weathers, this item would definitely suit your taste. As for its features, there are three horizontal rose gold zipper slits: two on each sleeve (both can open) and one fake zipper across the chest.


Another unique aspect of this hoodie is the two invisible pockets on the sides that make an illusion of a simple pullover, and the thick hemming along the bottom makes the apparel seem longer in length. Curving it to the back left corner is a “HBKO” stamp officially sewn.

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As much as I really liked the brand name, I was really worried more of how the clothes would come out compared to the display on the site. Nonetheless, I worried for nothing! The materials are quite well made, and the light street-style fashion brings great satisfaction.

All in all, I was very content in terms of strong quality in the make of the products. In my eyes, I think many dancers would be very fond of this style. Though some would oppose by saying, “You’re mainly paying for the name,” but I beg to differ with this particular shop since the price really does represent this store’s individuality. I would surely buy from this shop again in the future but maybe not in bulk.

Next time let’s try piece by piece, so my wallet doesn’t cry in the end.

Since summer is here and the heat is on the rise, I suggest checking out the Summer 17 for their latest collections while staying cool!

Tu-esday Foodspot: Bún bò Huế

First restaurant review!!! Yay!

The other day, my dad and I decided to have some quality time together and grab dinner. We went to Eden Center, which is a shopping center centered around the Vietnamese community in the DMV area. Here, you can find a plethora of small businesses ranging from family-run restaurants to jewelry stores. As a Vietnamese-American, this place has a special place in my heart. I’ve been coming here for as long as I can remember. I remember coming here to buy myself cute stationary at the toy store then stop buy a bakery to get an avocado smoothie. I pretty much grew up here.

Nowadays, Eden Center is a hotspot for a quality Vietnamese meal. Today, I’ll be talking about one of my favorite meals: Bún bò Huế (BBH).

To break it down, the first word, “bún,” means “rice noodle.” “” means “beef.” Finally, Huế is the former capital of Vietnam. The broth is prepared by boiling together beef bones, lemongrass, and fermented shrimp sauce, or “mắm ruốc.” Together, these flavors marry together to create a perfect balance of savory, sweet, sour, and spicy. A bowl of BBH is usually topped with big chunks of beef shank, pork knuckles, pork blood, and chả (pork sausage slice). I personally really like eating the pork knuckles because of how gelatinous the joints are. And, if cooked right, the skin is the perfect texture where it snaps in your mouth when you bite it.

SO GOOD….!!!

Anyway, I never really had amazing BBH other than when it’s homemade. Some places make the lemongrass flavor too strong, other places the broth is too sweet. Then, there are the restaurants that overcook the meat. I almost gave up trying to find a restaurant with good BBH until my sister’s boyfriend recommended me this restaurant called Kien Giang Quan. I’m not sure what that translates to in English, but all I know is that they serve AMAZING food. I mean…LOOK AT THIS:

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My sister’s boyfriend recommended me to try this place because they’re known for their BBH. I asked my dad about it, and he said that the restaurant is pretty popular amongst the Vietnamese community despite how small it is. There were probably about eight tables that could seat two to four people each.

My dad and I arrived at the restaurant around 6:50 PM, so we expected it to be busy. About four of the tables were taken, so it was quite busy for them. The waiter was very friendly to us, maybe because he knew my dad, and served us tea. He quickly took our orders and went to the kitchen to place them. My dad and I were talking for no more than 5 minutes and our food, including the vegetable condiments, was already out. Service was A+ here.

Before I dive into this, let me just show you how my BBH looked like when it came out:

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DOES THAT NOT LOOK DELICIOUS TO YOU?

I added some bean sprouts, sliced banana blossom, and a squeeze of lime just because I like getting mouthfuls of vegetables. This bowl of BBH just screams flavor. When I tried the broth, it had the perfect balance of salty, sweet, and spicy. Every spoonful of soup I tasted made me want more. You can really tell how much love and labor the chef put into making this broth. I don’t usually finish the entire bowl, but this time, I slurped up every last drop.

Let’s talk about the contents in the bowl.

First off, the meat. They had medium rare beef slices in here as well as beef shank, both incredibly tender and flavorful. There was also the pork knuckle, which was at the bottom of my bowl. Unfortunately, it was only a fraction of the knuckle, but it was still delicious. It had the perfect gelatinous texture that I love so much and the skin wasn’t chewy at all and had a nice bite to it. I only wish I had more!

I’m a huge fan of noodles. If I were to choose between noodles and rice, I’d choose noodles in a heartbeat. There’s something about slurping noodles that is so satisfying. Anyone else think this way?

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If this picture of noodles doesn’t look appetizing to you, I don’t know what does. These noodles are my favorite kind of noodle. It’s not too thin like pho noodles, but not as thick and heavy as egg noodles. They were perfectly cooked and had the right amount of softness. I believe that Asian noodles should be cooked a little bit past al dente. I’m not sure why, but it doesn’t seem right to cook it when it’s still hard in the center. I think it defeats the purpose of how easy it is to eat noodles.

After eating this, you feel full, but not disgustingly stuffed. My mom always told me that Vietnamese cuisine should never make you feel that way. You should leave the restaurant feeling content. Fun fact: did you know that Vietnamese food is one of the healthiest cuisines in the world? With every dish, there is a perfect balance of carbohydrates, protein, and fats. Like any other food, you should appreciate what’s in front of you rather than focus on making yourself full. Both my dad and I thoroughly enjoyed our meals. I wasn’t even able to try his because he ate it all! I would definitely recommend anyone who wants to try real BBH.

Don’t go anywhere else in Eden Center – come here to try it.

You definitely won’t be disappointed.

Step 1: Honesty

Honesty is the best policy.

Or is it?

When I was in middle school, making friends depended on how I spoke and what I spoke about. I talked about things that I thought people liked, and I crumbled even if I didn’t think it was right. In other words, I had two personas – public and private. My public side was very into the current trends, things that the people around me liked. Public Me wanted to make friends everywhere even if that person’s ideas didn’t match my own. Public Me was loud – she wanted to be heard in anyway she could.

Private Me had all the thoughts, the ideas, and the potential but kept it stored away out of fear.

After my first friend purge, my first genuine best friend got me to stand up for myself – something I never actually considered doing. I was okay letting my friends walk all over me if it meant keeping them. Once I stood up for myself the first time, I couldn’t go back.

Why do we assume that people will only like one side of us?

Private Me was a different kind of loud – she was assertive, and she had all the thoughts that needed to be heard. But she saved those thoughts for the Internet or whatever other media outlet she could find. The private side of me stayed hidden within the confines of my computer screen. Then I suddenly had an epiphany –

How could I ever expect to make friends who I’d be willing to have for the rest of my life if I only ever show them one side? And what was the purpose of having both sides? Was I protecting myself? Who was I saving?

I wasn’t saving anyone. I was hurting myself. I kept these thoughts tucked away for the sake of having people around me.

So – honesty first.

Friends second.

It’s easy to talk to people, but what are you supposed to talk about? Do I talk about something I think you’ll like or do I talk about what’s on my mind? To whom do I cater this conversation to? And that’s where my lesson had finally been realized.

I needed to close the gap between Private and Public Me. As time went on, I made the decision to combine the two. The public persona brought the private to light, and the private kept the public from only focusing on what other people liked. There was definitely a result.

People started to tell me I was “real.” What does that mean? I’m being honest, how is that real? Is there such a shortage of honesty in the world that it has become an anomaly? Friends, friends, friends – they all said the same things, and I just let myself continue to be honest.

Honesty, however, does not always guarantee a common thought. I stayed honest, but when my words contradict your own thoughts, I became something else. I was no longer “real,” I was judgmental – I was insensitive, I was inconsiderate. All these things made me think I needed to change again.

But did I really? It wasn’t that I changed over time, but my thoughts no longer consistently aligned with the people around me. Suddenly I became the bad guy. I was no longer “real,” and there became a floating assumption that I’m hiding a part of myself from the world.

Trust me – I’m not.

If I’m hiding anything, it’s something I, myself, have not even discovered. There are no surplus thoughts underneath this image I’ve created for myself. I worked hard to make sure my visage matched my thoughts.

Believe it or not – I’m honest from day one. Until I find a legitimate reason to lie to you, I will not because there would be no purpose. I would be lying for the sake of lying.

Step 2:  Friends, but Step 3:  Consistency.

There’s a reason for this long explanation into why I act the way I do, and here it is.

If honesty comes first, what reason do I have to lie to get people to like me? And hand-in-hand with that, why should I have to fight when someone says otherwise?

Truthfully, there is no reason. If you’re my friend, you’re my friend. I learned just yesterday that the ones who cherish their friends are the ones who stick to their convictions. Childish rumors and hasty actions will not change that. Anyone who has anything to say about the way I act can only know that speaking badly of me will only make the reaction to seeing the truth that much more satisfying for me. Say what you want – you’re still speaking of me.

In this day and age, young adults have all become truth-seekers. In the presence of malice, they pursue the side that makes the most sense, and the side that doesn’t is the one spattered with red in the end.

True or false:  the truth finds you.

False.

You need to find the truth on your own.

Working in Retail Fixed Me

There are certain aspects of one’s personality that need to be adjusted but go by unnoticed.

Today at work, I was asked to watch a video by a motivational speaker who told of his experience with one Starbucks partner at a Minnesota airport terminal. He said he’d never forget this encounter due to that partner’s genuine interest in her customers’ lives.

“I don’t want them to come back to Starbucks; I want them to come back to me.”

Such a recollection like this brought me back to one customer interaction I had over a year ago. Actually, I don’t really remember the first time I met this customer. It was during a holiday season, and, for retailers, you know that the holidays are when you meet and interact with the most people in one day.

It’s difficult to maintain a perfect customer experience when you need to balance these two concepts:

  1. Show a sense of urgency.
  2. (but) Be patient with your customer.

In other words, I need to help you in a reasonable amount of time without making you feel like I’m pressuring you because there are other people in the store. And in balancing these two principles, occasionally, that customer service ability might dwindle down as you go through your day.

Again, I don’t actually remember the first time I spoke to this customer.

However, she definitely remembered me.

The next time I heard of this particular woman, it was actually through her friend who wasn’t even my customer. As this woman was being helped by someone else, I threw in my two cents about a product, and she smiled.

“You helped my friend the first time she came here. She told me about you.”

This was the first time I’d heard this in my few years working at the same location. She then went into detail saying that her friend is now an avid shopper at the location by where she lived. She only visited them once a year, and it was always just after the Christmas rush. I was honest with her and said I couldn’t really remember, but I couldn’t hide the joy in my face at the thought that this one customer enjoyed her experience at the store to the point where she’d tell her friends and family.

Some weeks later, the same woman came back to the store – this time with the friend I had helped.

While I vaguely remembered her at first, the interaction came back to me. She spoke to me with such enthusiasm about how I showed her everything she needed to know and that she had to come back to see me. She was frank; she didn’t need to buy anything that day. She just wanted to see how I had been.

We then delved into how I got into this job, why I was still there, and why I enjoyed it so much.

I think every young adult who works retail says this at least once with a tired spirit –

“I hate this job.”

Sometimes you do; sometimes you don’t.

I’ve definitely said this before, more than once, in fact. At the end of the day though, I really don’t hate it. Granted, once I’ve finished this chapter of my life, I don’t think I’ll ever return to the world of retail, but I can genuinely say that without this job, my view on how people should treat one another as a whole has changed.

So what makes working at Teavana so rewarding and life-changing?

I’m not just selling a product that, at first glance, seems overpriced. I’m not here to take your money for my benefit, to have my name on a sheet of paper that says I’ve sold this much to you.

I’m here to help you improve your life in whatever way I can.

Tea helps people. It’s helped me, so I believe that it can help someone else, too. I will in no way whatsoever sell you bullshit – as some might say. If I don’t believe this product can help you, I’ll tell you. I want you to leave my store knowing that I’ve helped you take the first step to achieving a goal – the task you’ve shared with me. Think back to that scene in Miracle on 34th Street when Santa pointed a customer in the direction of another store, and suddenly it was seen as a revolutionary thing – putting the customer’s needs first.

I’ve had people tell me that I helped them cut sugar out of their diet which led to a healthier lifestyle. I’ve helped customers going through chemotherapy by showing them things that will keep them comfortable. I’ve shown parents ways they can bring the family together.

Mostly, I hope that I’ve shown my customers that I genuinely care. From the woman who’s allergic to apples to the man who knows that he’ll enjoy whatever drink I make for him – I care about them all. I want them all to know that I pay attention, and I will continue to do so until I’m done with this job.

My job does not stop when I clock out; it will stop when I no longer work here. And even then, the world of retail surpasses the job itself.

You learn other basic things that aren’t really seen as common sense nowadays. I’ve moved up in this job from a part-time salesperson to one of the managers, and while it put more pressure on me, I certainly learned a thing or two.

Taking constructive criticism is the number one thing – not from your peers, but from your customers. There are rude ones and there are polite ones, and generally, the polite ones are the people who want to see you succeed. It isn’t a hit to my pride to get feedback. Receiving this feedback also helped me gear it towards other customer service workers who aren’t displaying the kind of service I’d show to my customers.

Regardless of your position in this world, customer service can be interchangeable with simply being a good person. Do not be selfish, keep in mind the person’s background, and don’t let your bad day turn someone else’s day sour.

Another short story – something that was a sign to me that I had grown as an individual in a world of adults who still don’t know how to treat people.

It was on a ride, some ride – no need to go into specifics – and my mother began to exhibit signs of claustrophobia. Anyone with a phobia knows that you should treat the situation seriously and with consideration to the individual.

“Ma’am, if we let you off the ride it will take half an hour, we need to shut off the ride, take everyone out of the cart, and call an operator to do this. The ride is one minute, would you rather I inconvenience everyone to get you out?”

No need to fast forward – I was livid.

How could anyone think that was the proper way to treat this conversation? We were customers just like anyone else. God forbid, the claustrophobia was worse than it actually was. Needless to say, I kept a straight face; I did not argue, but I began to form a conversation in my head.

The moment we were off, I ushered my parents to the waiting area and walked up to the beginning of the line to the ride once more. I asked for the manager on duty which surprised the worker. She radioed the man in charge, and he met up with me in no time.

I spoke calmly and professionally. I look young, but I will not act adolescent. This is an adult conversation, and I will treat it as such.

“I just wanted to point out something, but first, I just want you to know I am not here to argue or put you or the rest of your staff in a position that would make things tense. I work in customer service, so I need to point out something that happened in case it happens in the future.”

He responded to my demeanor, did not argue, and acted with respect because I treated him with respect. I’ve handled customers in the past who have argued with me, but I still responded in accordance to how I should have. You can argue with me, but I will not argue with you. As long as you are my customer, I will treat you as such.

Lessons learned from retail surpass your own job; they help you in the real world when others might not even recognize your actions. People are people, and this job helped me learn how people need to be treated.

Take on a retail job once in your life. Trust me – it helps.

“The Perfect Gift”

As you get older, you begin to realize that finding the “perfect gift” is near to impossible. It’s not because you don’t know what someone likes or what would make someone happy, but with age, you start to settle your mental list of likes and dislikes. In contrast to how each birthday you never really know what you want when someone asks you, when you’re young, every year there’s something new that you’re into. One year it’s boy bands, the next it’s guitar, the year after that is a phone – etc. etc.

Mom, I regret not knowing even now what to get you for Mother’s Day. In the past, it was always, “Sweetie, this gift will be from the both of us” because as a child, you look at your parents as people who have everything they need because you never stop to consider what they want.

So this post is not just an open letter to my dad for Father’s Day – but a thorough look into why I love my parents and why they helped shape me into the person I am today with what seemed like little to no effort. This is for both of you, Mom and Dad. This is for all the parents in my family. This is for all of you.

As children, you never really think about how hard your parents try. They come home from work, they kiss you goodnight, they make dinner seem like it’s just always meant to be there – that’s what life was. Mom and Dad have everything you need and they hand it to you because that’s the life they’re giving you – that’s the life they believe you deserve. When you get older and you live on your own, those meals start disappearing, replaced by last minute studying and hurried meals “because I just need to eat something.”

I will admit this post will not be entirely relate-able for some of my readers. At a young age, I realized that I had an abnormal relationship with my parents, but I didn’t realize exactly how different until people started pointing it out to me.

I text my parents “goodnight” everyday (almost, sorry, Mom). I eat with them at the dinner table. I tell them about my friends, and I tell them when I have a crush on someone at school. I go to them for advice and even go as far as to delegate my friends to them for advice as well.

Is that not normal?

Dad, you proposed to Mom after two weeks, and you’re still together.

Here I am, still meeting people who’ve been together for years and got divorced months later. You set the standard that marriage is a life-long thing.

“I can look, but I go home to Mom everyday.”

That’s marriage. You’re not limiting each other to the walls of the house you share because you aren’t sharing it. It’s not yours and hers – it’s yours. This home belongs to both of you; it isn’t shared. You don’t share your life with Mom; it’s your life.

And maybe you two are the reason why I have such high standards for friends – you two do as well.

For children with wonderful parents, have you ever stopped to figure out that your parents are the first best friends you made in your life? They are the only first best friends. And they are the best.

Yes, I know, again, this won’t apply to everyone but it certainly applies to me and a handful of people I can think of.

Yeah, sometimes I don’t understand you, and other times you don’t understand me. But as a family, even though you don’t understand, you still go to the dinner table – me in my spot and you both in yours – and eat, talk about the day, and enjoy each others’ company. Growing up, I never considered it as enjoying each others’ company, I just thought of it as dinner because that’s how you raised me. It was never an anomaly that “families who eat dinner together have a stronger bond” because that’s how it always was. We ate together, we did our separate activities in the living room together, and overall, at the end of the day, things were discussed together.

When I tell my friends I’m going on vacation with my parents, they say “aww” and for a few seconds I really wonder why. Is that not the norm?

The norm for me is telling my dad about my day. It’s feeling comfortable enough to talk about what frustrates me to a friend in front of my parents because I’m not afraid to let them hear what I have to say.

I remember some bits of advice every now and then.

“At this age, you’re trying to figure out what you want. And even if you can’t, you’re figuring out things that you don’t want.”

I never stopped to thank you for the childhood you gave me because it took me so long to see that this was not normal. Not all families have that transparency. Not all families go to Harry Potter World every year because it makes us laugh and feel happy. Not all families hug each other… just because. That’s not normal.

But that’s us.

So – thank you, Mom. Thank you, Dad. Thank you for setting this standard of life for me because without you I wouldn’t be aiming as high as I do. When it comes to guys, I think of you two first. Would you be proud of me for liking him? Would you speak of my relationship to the rest of our family with pride? And if the answer is no, then goodbye to that idea.

And maybe that’s why finding gifts is so difficult for me! I appreciate both of you everyday. I tell you I love you everyday. I spend everyday thinking of you two at least once, so what is one day out of the year to celebrate your existence supposed to mean to me? Really it means nothing. I appreciate that you are my parents everyday, and I’ll probably continue to do so for the rest of my life.

I get my quirks from you, I get my standards for life and love, I get my expectations – I get basically every aspect of my life as an adult from you. Will I ever forget that? No. I don’t think I ever will.

I know I’ve frustrated you in the past, and I know I’ve made you cry. I know I can achieve more and you believe I can as well, so I’ll continue to try and aim as high as you expect of me. I know I could have done more; I know I could have done this and that better. But I take pride in the fact that out of the millions of children who have said it in their adolescence, I have never once said I hate you. I don’t ever complain about you because – really – what is there to complain about? I learn from you because you were my first teachers. You were my first supporters, and my first friends. I never once regretted the life I had (or have) as an only child, and I know you’ve felt bad because I had no company growing up but did I really need it? No. I didn’t need it because you two did your best to give me that company that was essential to my development. I’m proud to be your child. I’m proud that you can go to your friends and say “my daughter did this” with pride because no one else raised me – it was all you two. The fact that I can be enough for you to speak of me with pride is all I could ever need to accomplish.

And perhaps, you both knew all of these things already, but in case you didn’t – here it is for you in writing.

Thank you for making my life what it is.

I love you both – I really do.

Happy Father’s Day.

“I Am No Stranger to Strangers.”

(Old image featured – 2015)

I am no stranger to strangers.

Every time something shifts in my life, I momentarily forget past occurrences and only look forward. My memory gets foggy, and the concept that “this seems familiar” disappears for half a second.

Thinking back, this is not the first time I’ve heard these words, sunk into these feelings, or received these blows. However, I do know one thing for sure – I’ve finally learned to handle it the way I should.

When it comes to red flags, it may or may not be obvious. For some people I meet, I get this anxious feeling. This particular knot that says,

Be friendly, but do not trust.

And when I feel this, I am sure to be on my guard. Do not get too close, do not reveal too much, and do not let them in.

The second kind of red flag comes in stages. There is a series of yellow flags before the red, and only when the red appears is it too late. When I was younger, I disregarded yellow flags for the sake of giving the benefit of the doubt – something I realized I am more than notorious for giving blindly.

I can recall a memory from when I was 14.

I was visiting a church with a friend who I now call stranger. I sat, feeling out of place when a girl walks in. She walked with confidence, and she had a presence that I admired. She was much older, much more mature than us.

I don’t like her. She’s full of herself. The underside of her hair is blue, and it’s tacky. No one likes her.

As my friend said this, I took her words and applied it over the girl’s image. Yet even as I did, the other young girls my age flocked her and showered her with compliments. In the midst of her mini gathering of fans, she turned to me.

Oh, you’re new! What’s your name? Are you coming here regularly now? I haven’t been here in a while, so I’m sorry if I didn’t recognize you.

I wanted to think she had on a facade for the sake of making a good first impression, but to this day, I really don’t think she was. We talked about her hair, and later she introduced me to her friend with whom I kept in contact with for some time.

From that small experience, I should have known better that your friends’ impressions of people become your own impressions. But what if that wasn’t a real friend? Would that make their impressions invalid?

I am no stranger to strangers.

Once at 10, once at 14, and again once more at 22.

There is no age limit for lessons to be learned. Fate will make you experience the same situations over and over again – same circumstances, different people – same feeling, different words said – until you finally learn which way is the right way.

So what have I learned?

Those who have high standards for whom they trust but who are not trustworthy are not to be regarded, and their impressions of me will not change my impression of myself.

Memories, once invalid, lose all sentimental value. When you originate the initial problem to its start date, all fond and happy moments lose meaning. Now, they are merely occurrences experienced with a stranger. Do not give them weight.

The friend who is meant to stay in your life will never leave. True friends have a purpose in your life, and regardless of the amount of time spent, there is more to be done. They are the non-romantic soulmates who will keep aiding along your spiritual growth. You may not always agree with each other, but you always find your way back. Being annoyed with each other is a natural thing, but if you let that annoyance tear you two apart, then it’s time to say goodbye.

I will not try to save a sinking ship that keeps sabotaging itself whether its intentional or not. The life savers on that ship have been thrown to me, but I will not bend. A sabotaged ship can save no one.

There is a reason why I say I trust my friends blindly.

Do what you want, I am not your keeper.

Make your mistakes because it is your life to live.

I will turn a blind eye to the malice others see because I befriend your character – your being – not your actions.

I trust you with my eyes shut because the moment a line is crossed, I can open my eyes, see you for the person I let you be, and turn away. That blind trust is gone, and you are a stranger once more.

There is no magical place where all lost friendships go. They dissipate into thin air, and life goes on. I let it go, and I won’t hold on.

It isn’t worth saving.

Temporary friends add filter to your vision that you must remove once they depart.

The genuine friends are the ones who keep your sight clear.

Why Everyone is Losing Patience with Love

“A fine mix of unicorn blood, witches brew, and broken hearts.”

There are two priorities Millennials have nowadays. One might lead to the other, but ultimately, we choose one for the time being as we ignore the other.

In my opinion, a majority of young adults within my age bracket can willingly admit to focusing on work as a priority. Due to the competitive nature of the current economy and overall job market, putting all focus on our career is deemed as a completely sensible outlook on life. This general subsection of young adults who put work/education above all other matters have goals to keep, and there is little room to distract.

The second and most cliched priority that anyone would be embarrassed to own up to is love. I think most people secretly wish for it, but, upfront, love is a fairytale – it’s for the foolish, for the weak – and love is the only force in this world that breaks you faster than you can break yourself.

There’s nothing wrong with love. It’s beautiful and perfectly flawed. It generates dreams beyond reality with little fuel required. Scraps of hope bloom into fantasies, music, and the subjectively inevitable romance. No, there is nothing wrong with love.

The flaw and the dilemma lies within the effects of love.

Think of romance like a bottle of liquor, unopened and chilled, a crystal blue glass visage, tightly and securely sealed by a flimsy piece of metal worth no more than two pennies. That safety seal breaks at the first glance, and it might remain as such until you get curious enough to expose that liquor to the air. But who knows how long that will take? Minutes, hours, months – however long until the curiosity  burns through your fingertips.

That first charming sentence – however impactful it may be – is what opens bottles. And as the conversations take place, a shot goes down every time your heart beats a little too fast.

(Everyone holds their alcohol differently – so relate these numbers as you would to your own pace.)

The first shot burns, and the initial panic hits your stomach yet something tells you to continue. Shot number four is when you begin to laugh too easily, and number five is when the room starts to spin. By the eighth, everything slows except for your thoughts.

Even if you choose to stop sipping, the alcohol sits, blending in with your bloodstream until you don’t actually know if it’s still there or not.

Under good circumstances, the high remains until the affection is so secure you don’t need to drink anymore. You stay awake until the blur fades, and you can sleep peacefully knowing all will be well in the morning. This is the route we all wish for from the moment that seal is broken – an infinite inebriation and a sweet surrender to affection.

I don’t think it’s the most common route, and this is probably why the bottles cease to pop or cheaper, more destructive bottles are chosen.

In the more common and most plausible route, you lay down in the midst of the rumbling in your head – that only makes it worse. However it may happen, the bottle might be taken away or you choose to close it on your own with whatever strength you have – you know as you shut your eyes that the hangover is inevitable. The emptiness and the tears, the broken words and the wrong steps – the hangover can last as long as you let it until your body finally goes back to normal.

And suddenly that bottle and its taste is just another memory either to be looked at with fondness or discomfort.

It’s unfortunate that too many people experience the hangover until they can’t bear to even look at another bottle. Not enough dreamers get to live the life-long happily drunken state before being abruptly shaken awake.

The patience for those who made love a priority has worn thin. Eventually, all the dreamers of the world will return to reality.

Quality Time with Myself

When was the last time you spent the day alone?

Not those days that are spent all day in bed, watching movies, and stuffing your face with whatever snack is closest to your bed. I mean, when was the last time you went out and enjoyed the day on your own without expecting any company? I confess, I don’t do it that often, but now I see that it’s kind of a necessity. This is the day you use to see that you really don’t need anyone to be around to enjoy the time you have.

This is one of my two days off during the week. I don’t often have the weekends off because of retail, but after a while I got used to it. All of my close friends have their own schedules whether it involves previously made plans or class. And for a while, I spent days like this in bed, convinced that I needed more sleep.

But is that the truth?

I don’t really think so. No matter how much time I spend in bed, it will never be enough to be enthusiastic about work

Today, I used my time to go out. I grabbed my laptop, my headphones, and bought a caramel macchiato with a toasted croissant, and I sat at an empty table for two at the mall. It isn’t the prettiest of days, but I was breathing in fresh air. I was getting work done after procrastinating, and I was enjoying my music while looking at a place that wasn’t my bedroom. I don’t feel lonely, and I don’t feel like inviting anyone to join me because if I did, then the self-made white noise would be disrupted and the entire day would change.

During this quality time with myself, I realized that there’s always enough time in the day for me to appreciate my time with me – without sharing it with anyone else.

LumiScript’s Mission and Hallyu

I originally intended on starting this blog for personal thoughts, life issues and lessons, and overall subjects that I felt comfortable enough to share with the people in my life. Platforms like Tumblr left my words overlooked, and a brand new start seemed to be the best idea.

Only until this very second, I didn’t actually realize what LumiScript really was for.

LumiScript – the combination of my favorite spell ‘lumos‘ and ‘postscript’ is my way of starting from the simplicity of personal issues I’ve come across and combining them with the music scene that I’ve found my home in. I’ve learned over the years of being apart of the Hallyu music scene that the youth of today grow up and learn from the music they listen to. I started out with the angsty, carefree sounds of pop punk and somehow ended up entangling my earbuds with Japanese metal and Korean dance pop. So how does this tie into LumiScript?

I have friends in high places, but I don’t intend on depending on them to help me rise above the latency of new blogs and YouTube channels. Instead, I plan on reaching out to rising artists, underground artists, photographers, dancers – anyone who wants their voice to be heard to the audiences I’m familiar with stretching across the indie music scene to the anime conventions I love attending. This is my way of fusing the worlds that created my personality together.

Let the games begin!

First stop: RVA Mini Hallyu Expo.

If there’s any place I know I’ll find new friends, it’s with the Hallyu scene.

화이팅!

Being Friends with a Beauty Blogger

We’ve all seen them. Whether you follow their full posts online or rapidly hit the ‘like’ button when their faces appear on your Instagram feed, beauty bloggers are taking over the fashion scene, each with their own unique sense of style and presence. There’s a mild sense of intimidation when you see that ‘k’ next to their follower count, and it plants the idea in your head.

“Will my following ever be that big?”

Honestly? It’s difficult. However, I’ve learned so much from befriending a beauty blogger. Of course, when I met her, she wasn’t nearly as famous as she is now, and her follower count grows by the day.

The truth behind it all is that beauty bloggers are human beings just like anyone else. When you’re friends, you see that past the flawless photos and the thousands of likes, they are – to the core – normal people with normal problems.

They’ve just learned to hide it so much better than the average blogger.

Now, becoming friends with a beauty blogger is like being friends with anyone else, and I think this is something commonly misconstrued by anyone who thinks that just because they’ve received a reply from someone with more than 100 followers, they’re suddenly besties. No, it never works out this way. Remember, fame is a blessing and a curse. Using their friendship to fund your own goals is just being selfish.

Don’t ask for favors.

Don’t spread their personal stories.

Don’t fight their battles.

The best route to go? Just be a friend. Be there when they need you. Be there when they need to rant about today’s photoshoot or when they realize this model is a total jerk because believe it or not – they’re telling you because they trust you, not because they need the attention.

Shouldn’t that be the obvious part?

I’ve learned so many rewarding things from my friend. She’s a sweet, honest girl with normal college problems like anyone else. She’s like my little sister, and I trust her with things I don’t normally trust other people with. At the end of the day, I love that we’re comfortable enough with each other to get mad and tell the truth without the fear of losing that bond.

So the moral of this post? A famous friend is still a friend.

And don’t think any differently.