a story about love

almost a year ago to date, a movie came out called moonshine kingdom that had everyone swooning. a wes anderson creation, you couldn't go to any hip coffee shop or indie theater without hearing the irony-clad gush -- much like most of wes anderson's creations.

at the core of the film, lay a little boy who would do anything for love and to believe in love -- a sweet story really, too bad it was wrapped in an ugly pretentious and oversized sweater, no-doubt purchased from an overpriced thrift store.

matthew mcconaughey stars in a new film titled, mud. what the fuck it's about, the title will not tell you -- nor will the trailer, really. but damn it was a good trailer -- well, as good of a trailer can be starring matthew mcconaughey -- and i don't have much going on on sundays other than it being the holy day of sleep, eat, and clean, so i went to see mud and how refreshing it was to find a movie about a young boy who would do anything for love and to believe in love, sans sweater.

i really can't say much more about the film, not because there are crazy plot twists or big reveals or explosions or whateverthefuck else hollywood likes to put out (though, confession: i did thoroughly enjoy every explosion in the new star trek), but because it is just a simple, straightforward love story -- except instead of boy meets girl and discovers love, it's more like boy fights for love, all shades of it.

much like its title, mud is a subtle and unassuming film that you don't see coming until it wraps you in its arms and warms the deep, dark abyss of your heart; until it goads you, unknowingly, to move to a new city, to go against everyone's advice, to dance irreverently at all hours of the day, to sometimes live beyond your means and other times live so beyond what you thought life would mean.

sort of like love.

*

i'll be traveling to see family next week, so i won't be writing anything for next thursday -- instead, i'll be knee-deep in love, of all shades.

see you next, next thursday,
m

one day i will stop procrastinating

maybe tomorrow.

you guys, i'm sorry, but when we did our quickie last week -- you know with the champagne and the fireplace, and then there was that bit about pulling a blanket up over us -- well, what did you think would happen? something damn good, because i've been preoccupied and tied up under that blanket all week.

and as a result, i still have deadlines that need slaying. so off i go.

TOO MANY CRAFTS, TOO LITTLE TIME

i promise to emerge from blanket before next thursday this time though.

maybe.

see you next thursday (under the blanket *wiggles eyebrows*),

m

You’re too fat. You’re too skinny. Your butt is too big. F***, can I just eat this burger?!

Ok, I’m finally back from my hiatus. I know you all were eagerly awaiting my arrival. Last week, it was my birthday so there were some celebrations in place. Let’s just say I have a lovely reminder of my birthday weekend with my clothes spattered in throw-up (not mine, by the way. Ain’t that some shit??). Eh, it is what it is. I’m a year older and I thank the Lord for this and for all the blessings in my life.

So, I’ve been meaning to blog on this topic – body image – as a follow up to my last post. Has anyone been through this?

Mom: “You’re too fat. Your butt is really big too. You need to diet.”

A week later….

Mom: “You’re too skinny. You need to eat more.”

A week later…

Mom: “You’re getting a little chub chub there. As long as you exercise, you can eat anything.”

You get the point. After a while, I was seriously like, “Mom, I’m still going to eat this damn burger and YES, it’s going to my hips! And YES, I don’t care!” I know I’m not the only one out there who has had to deal with Asian parents and the never-ending body scrutinizing. I think at one time last year, my dad just looked at me and just said “Fat.” Nothing else. Come on pops….you gonna do me like that?!

Growing up, I’ve always had low self-esteem about my body and the way it looked; hell, I’m still self-conscious about it today but I’m working on it! And I love my parents and I know they had my best interests in mind, but it wasn’t easy grappling with my body image hearing those comments. This plays into the bigger picture of how female bodies are “supposed” to look in today’s society. It’s sexy if you’re a size 0 and are super slim. You have to starve yourself to look “good.” I mean, men even have a say in what they think women’s bodies should look like! Women hate on each other and in my own experience, they can be the harshest critics. It really makes me angry seeing women struggle with their body image because 1) it’s discouraging and 2) it can cause mental, emotional, and physical issues.

I bring this up because I just want women to see how beautiful their bodies are. Everyone is unique. Love your body. If you want to eat a damn pizza slice, then fucking do it. If you want to lift weights, then go ahead (you’re not going to get swole like a dude)! If you have curves, then flaunt it! You’re not “fat.” And no matter what anyone says, you’re fucking beautiful. I am sick and tired of seeing women depriving their bodies, trying to fit into a standard that is just not healthy or positive. 

Now, excuse me while I go stuff my face with this pizza. Because I'm beautiful. And I'll do what I fucking want. Bitch.

-Diane

love your mama

hello friends,

i must confess i have let deadlines creep, and can not spend as much time with you this thursday night as i would like to.

if i had my way, i would bust out the bubbly and cozy up to all of you. knock back a few until that awkward silence blanketed the room; our eyes would meet, our hands would touch, and then i would ugly-cry about how much i adore my dear young mother.

but alas, i'll have to get a raincheck and instead leave you with a surrogate: writer mary h k choi penned a fucking awesome piece about her foreign mother and succinctly expressed the pangs of growing up with a mom who packed stinky food in your school lunch when you were 12, followed by the longing you feel at the age of 20-something, wishing she would fill your silent second-floor studio, 1200 miles away, with those same familiar smells of home.

I then did what any normal kid would do and yelled and yelled about how embarrassing it was to have her at school with me during lunch of all times. She presented me with a sack of cheeseburgers that I could give out to my friends. I refused the damp bag and screeched about how it was so cheap that she didn’t spring for bright red boxes with toys for them as well. I made her take the burgers back with her. If I were an actress and had to think of something sad to make me cry in a scene, I would think about this moment. 

... She said that when I was four, I stole hundreds of dollars from her and bribed my bus driver to drop me off last and to make a pitstop at the deli so I could buy candy on my way home. I’d stuffed the change in my shallow pinafore pockets and when my mother frantically berated me for stealing the money and trying to get myself kidnapped, I told her I loved money more than I loved her. These days I don’t love money how I used to. My mom though, I’m crazy about.  

read it here and tell me what terrible things your mother did when you were a child, and what you wish she would still do for you now (laundry, hugs, take me to taco bell, brush my hair, and tell me not to go out past 8 pm because i'll get pregnant come to mind).

see you next thursday,
-m

p.s. the writer is from texas.