How I Found And Kept The Perfect Girl; or How I'm Learning To Be A Man II

Before I go into anything, I'd like to say one thing: many, many, many girls are too clingy or too insecure because of issues they have with their fathers.

This becomes a basis for a lot of arguments, blaming her for her insecurities, and ultimately deciding that she just isn't worth the trouble.  You know what?  Man the eff up; become the man she needs.  It's all too easy to say it's too hard, to blame her for her father's faults; but when we love a God who is also the perfect father, then we realize that we as men are his vessels and tools to fill their lives with the love they long for.  We must be everything they need us to be because we know that we are all lacking, especially, and sadly, fathers.

So man the eff up and give her the affection that God her father wishes her to have.

Now, there are two—yes, just two—qualities that you need to find in the perfect girl.  These are personal experiences of mine, but maybe you can walk away with some universal generalizations that could help.

Find a girl who smiles constantly, determinedly, almost excessively.  And I don't mean the smile that manifests because it's a defense mechanism against uncomfortable situations, or a smile laced with seduction or other ulterior motives, but a smile simply because.  Look hard; it's easy to discern the discrepancies.  You need to find a girl who smiles because of the simple fact that there's a reason she smiles.  It means she loves life; it means she finds good in the world; it means she advocates kindness; it means she is optimistic.  I could tell you to find a girl with all of these individual qualities, but it's just easier to tell you to find a girl who just loves to smile.

Or, better yet, find a girl who constantly and joyfully laughs.

I was in my little makeshift office in my home, writing at my desk.  I was stressed—my writing wasn't going as quickly as I'd thought it would.  I'd been off and on at a novel for a couple years, but now I was fully devoted to it as my time freed up; but the progress was just too slow for my taste.  At the time, my girlfriend was off in some other part of the house with my dog, a pit bull and boxer mix called Rain.  I was in the office with my own little rain cloud hovering above me when, suddenly, the house was filled with laughter.  I need to describe this laugh to you—it's just a really great laugh.  I don't want to say it was childish, but it definitely resembles a child's laugh.  It's one of those laughs that comes from deep within the soul—you know what I'm talking about, right?—and there was no doubt that she was fully engaged in it with her whole being.  I went to go see the reason.  You know what it was?  It was because my dog was rolling around on its back in the yard.  That was it.  And she'd seen it do that so many times before, but it still made her laugh, like, fully laugh.  Soon after, my own mood lifted—and so I'll do all I can to keep that laughter in my life.

Secondly, find a girl who loves to become consumed with creating.  I know what you might be thinking—that this can't be a good thing, that when she becomes consumed by other things, she won't find time for you or your needs.  Well, you know what?  If she didn't spend time to create, then you'll probably be complaining about how needy or clingy she is.  It turns out, in the end, you're the insecure one, and you'll find fault with anything.  Support her fully in her endeavors, and she will thank you.

Yes, you need to find a girl who becomes consumed with creating things.  It's one of her loveliest figures when my girlfriend gives her whole soul to styling her photoshoots, cooking a meal, or just sitting there with her shoulders and head bent over to focus on her lap as she laces up a friendship bracelet.  It, of course, has its implications: she owns the faculty to manifest what she feels progressively; she perceives that she is not helpless; she is full of hope and will give all her time and energy to progressing it; she is creative (duh..); and, above all and when appropriate, she will devote everything to and with you to creating love.

If you just find a girl with these two qualities, everything else about her becomes a bonus.

I used to think I was good at relationships because I've been in many.  However, it dawned on me that this wasn't the case, since I've failed so many times.  But I have found three simple rules that's sort of floated around in my past relationships and solidified as invaluable guidelines for the girl I love:

Be strong for her;
be gentle to her;
and, above all, treat her with respect (for cryin' out loud...).

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Oh, if you want to see a perfect girl, here's my girlfriend's website (you get to see her smile and her creativity): EnamoredWith

I Love Writing; or How I'm Learning To Be A Man

I'm now twenty-five years old.  To put it simply, I've been wondering about what it took to be a man.  I'm writing to make sense of my life by narrating portions of it, and also because I hope to share universal implications that may come from my specific example.  You see, I've been writing my whole life, and I'm now going to try and use it in a way I've never used it before.

I started out writing mostly because I started out reading.  Coming to America at the age of six, I was bound to books by parents and teachers alike so that I could learn the language.  What they didn't anticipate was that I would hold on to them dearly.  I was the only Asian-American boy in my class, so I sought refuge frequently in books.  My mother indulged me; she took me to the library often, and I'd come home with a stack of books that I had to steady with my chin.

And every little boy wants to imitate what they know.  During times I wasn't imitating Power Rangers, I was writing.  I wrote a whole series of stories chronicling the adventures of a computerized King Kong while in elementary school.  My teachers took notice and tried to help me flourish.  In fourth grade, I was sent to a state-wide writers' conference for elementary students.  There, we got to exchange stories and do readings out loud for one another.  The following year, against policy, I was sent a second time.  This just goes to show that, though we may view the education process as an impassive system, teachers are human beings who dedicate their lives to teaching children, and they find excitement and value when it becomes obvious how to help, as long as you proactively show promise.  They jumped at the chance to help me.

My high school years were great.  I never had so much fun, but I never achieved as much, either.  For my graduation outfit, I got to enjoy the adornments for the Key club, the French club, the honor roll, and a few others; but my favorite award went something like this:

The school announced a school-wide poetry contest.  Everyone was to submit one poem to their literature teachers.  About a week later, my teacher excitedly told me to attend the award ceremony for the contest after school the next day.  I went with some of my friends, and I ended up winning the award for third place in the Family category.  I took it graciously and left early with my friends.  The next day, my teacher came up to me once again and asked why I hadn't been at the award ceremony.  I assured her I went and told her I had received the award.  She shook her head.  She said I had missed the final award they had given out.  She said it was the award for the one the entire school chose as their favorite, the Principal's Award.  She said I should've stayed.  She reached out and handed me the award.  It was one of the greatest unexpected things I've gotten.

After high school, I went to college and pursued what I knew and enjoyed, writing.  I graduated as an English major, and I spent most of my four total years in college writing essays; and I daresay I got good at them.  It was very formulaic, really, thinking up arguments for my theses.  Sad to say, I got so used to writing essays, in fact, I forgot how to take tests, and I didn't do as well as I pleased in my electives towards the end of my college career.  Also, I graduated a semester late because I took off a semester to work full-time at a sushi restaurant and sent myself to England to study abroad for the summer.  After college, I found work teaching English, once for an entire year in South Korea.

And through a series of very peculiar events, I am about to enter Seminary school.  And from what I've heard, what do you think the majority of the grades depends on?  Writing.  It's almost poetic how I heard this only after I made the choice.

I feel now that I'm able to write a little more freely ever since I received a white envelope on Thursday containing a letter that announced my acceptance into Columbia Theological Seminary.  As shallow as credibility may seem, I realized that as long as I glorified God, he would put me on a humble pedestal so that I may say what I will about him.  I've even just finished a novel, though upon rereading it, it can tend to be a little mild and slow at times, but I was mostly trying at my stylistic inventions.  However, now that I've worked on it, I'll see it through and attempt to publish it.

I think that all men want to make an impression of their lives while they live.  Some men do it through fear and intimidation in the people around them, counting on these momentary opinions to construct their identity.  Some do it by trying to leave some type of legacy to memory.  Others do it by instilling their lives' values in others, while still others try to leave behind a brand that commemorates their part in it.

But I think that some of the greatest in history chose to write.

Excerpt

She looked out the window.

Although she couldn’t see it, the sun was setting, and it signified its retreat with a four-sided glowing orange on the wall opposite her.  Her window was slightly open, and she could just smell the autumn air.  The autumn weather was paradoxical in that it was crisp like new, but also an agent in the celebration of nostalgia.  It was probably because it was so crisp like new that fall afternoons can be remembered so well in later years.

And the weather accentuated every sound.  She lived within her modest means, and so she found her apartment well-acquainted with the sounds of life flowing through the city’s mechanical veins.  The noises floated into her room, and since nostalgia always sets in with the air, the sounds that accompany it consequently become congenial as well.

Some things I need to remind myself of

Some advice for you, Kit.

With love,
Kit

1. You will always be in a transitional period. You're never gonna "get there", so enjoy the ride.

2. Children aren't articulate, but they know what's right, so listen to them more.

3. Talk to yourself more; you try to hide it like you're sane, but c'mon.  The best conversations are the ones with the person who knows you best.

4. Grammar was made to relay ideas better. If you get what they're saying, grammar has no real role then.

5. DANCE, you fool.

6. Talk more with less thought; you'll find out the kind of person you are quicker. Then go from there.

7. Nothing you have is truly yours except your ideas. Even those, you should share.

8. I know you should "go with the flow", but flow into work more often.

9. You are only as good as your actions.

10. Learn parkour. It's, like, the fastest way to feel like a kid again.

11. Give praise where praise is due; you're not gonna get better just because you withheld a compliment regarding something you wish you could've done, too.

12. Practice more. Fear of failure IS failing.

13. Love more. How could you live with yourself otherwise?

Desert of Sound

I've always claimed to write music, but it's never felt like this.
Voice and guitar by the talented Danni Chung and video shot by my very own Allison Rhee

Take writing, for example

I have to reside in that place somewhere between carelessness and meticulousness.

If I am too careless, then my writing will have no direction; if I am too meticulous, then my writing will be too faltering.

Neither can I vacillate from one to the other--I will own no real trail of thought if I keep changing my state of mind.

No--I need to find comfort in a place between the two, a place where I exemplify boldness with a characteristic of wariness. I must write like I mean to write, but I must also exhibit care.

And not only my writing, but my life must also be led in this manner. I must be in a state of urgency so that I can fully engage all of my faculties, but I must also heed the words of God. I must live because God gave me this life, but I must also be wary of how I live for that very reason.

Some scribbles in my pocket notebook

Happiness is not leisure. It is not retirement or luxury, it is not the easy attainment of pleasure.

Happiness is the transpiration of growth. It is not merely doing something enjoyable--it is becoming better at it. And the actual realization of aspirations is only momentary in its pleasure because it is only an indication of growth, not its finality.

Too often we attain an object and wonder at the inconsistency between it and our expectations. It is because our souls flourish when we ourselves flourish--attainment without continuance is nothing but a halt to what was food to our souls.