Sakagura - a brief trip to Japan

Being that this is my last week in the city this summer, I met up with my friend and his girlfriend as he heads of to NYU SoM. I've wanted to try Sakagura for a while so we decided to come here pretty last minute. 

Kamo roast - duck wrapped in scallion with basil sauce

Fluke carpaccio - thin slices of fluke sashimi drizzled in olive oil with plum paste, salmon roe, and shiso leaf

maguro tartar - chopped tuna with with flying fish roe steeped in Yuzu and caviar

tatami iwashi - sardin crackers with a spicy mayo dip

chawanmushi - egg custard with thickened Ponzu sauce

some cute spoons

saikoro steak with grated onion and soy sauce

buta kakuni - stewed diced pork belly

chocolate souffle with raspberry sauce

I liked most of the dishes we ordered. The portions were really small though. I would definitely recommend this place if you are a fan of Japanese food or just want to try something new.

The Craze - Dominique Ansel Bakery

So this morning, at the ungodly hour of 5:30AM, two of my friends and I gathered in front of Dominique Ansel Bakery to catch the cronut craze (and the soon to be frozen s'mores craze). There really wasn't much to do on line other than chat, nap a couple of minutes here and there, and get randomly interviewed.

so many cronuts!

Blackberry cronut

The frozen s'more

The inside of the frozen s'more

Now, was the cronut and frozen s'more worth the two and a half hour wait? Guess you'll have to find out for yourself.

How Broken We Are

Over the past month or so, one of my colleagues and I have been accused of murdering mice for our neuroscience research. According to Merriam-Webster dictionary, murder is defined as the crime of unlawfully killing, especially with malice. What my colleague and I do is not maliciously sacrifice mice; we sacrifice them in the pursuit of scientific knowledge so that humanity may benefit from it. While others don't want to get their hands dirty, we have taken it upon ourselves to pursue that knowledge. And as a result, we have received unwarranted accusations.

Taking to Facebook to try to convey my disappointment and hurt at receiving these accusations, I encountered insincerity and mockery from others. One person explicitly downplayed the accusations as something done in a "joking manner." When did accusations of murder become a joke? Not only that but other people didn't seem to understand the severity of the situation. Downplaying this incident is not only an insult to us but also to the mice who are sacrificed for humanity's benefit. This moment is one of the most disappointing instances for me as not only a researcher but also as a human being.

I'm still in shock of how somebody can downplay murder as a joke. It just points to how broken we all are.

At What Point...

At what point do you sit down, look at yourself in the mirror and ask, "What are you doing?" At what point do you beg yourself to come back to reality and stop daydreaming in fantasies? At what point...

A year has gone by...far too quickly for my liking. It's strange how vastly different two summers can be - one in which you were my closest companion and one in which you are nothing more than an acquaintance, if even that.

It's funny how you managed to make me experience a roller coaster of emotions, ranging from disappointment and frustration to joy and excitement.But then again, maybe I only have myself to blame. Maybe I never should have let my feelings get the better of me. Maybe I never should have fallen for you.

However, I don't regret confessing my feelings. Because in that moment, what I felt was real. And even if you didn't feel the same way, I know that my feelings were genuine. I guess even today I think about it from time to time, wondering if I did something differently or said something else that perhaps our relationship would have taken a different course, that maybe the promises we made wouldn't have turned into hollow words. 

And I admit that there are a few things I would like to say but I'm choosing not to because I don't know if it's appropriate to anymore. They wouldn't really make a difference, right? 

I don't know if you'll ever read this but there is one thing that I do want to say. And that's...thank you. 

Thank you for taking the time to get to know me. Thank you for asking me about my relationship with God. Thank you for letting me into your life and sharing with me your aspirations, hopes, disappointments, and fears. And lastly, thank you for praying for me.

Would you think I'm crazy or hopeless if I told you I miss you? I wonder if you feel the same or if I'm just stuck in reverse.

I'm not really sure what our relationship will be tomorrow, a month from today, or even twenty years from now. But there's one thing that I do know - I'll be praying.

Molly's Cupcakes

So people have been telling me that Molly's Cupcakes, located on Bleecker Street in the West Village, have these amazing cupcakes. And well, yeah they were pretty amazing. My mom had been asking me to bring her cupcakes to Jersey for the longest time. I think she was jealous that all her friend's daughters always brought sweets back and I never did. I'm not really the type to make the effort to go hunt down sweets and desserts. But I figured I should bring them back for once. And my goodness my entire family loved them. I can't wait to go back
again!

Ron Bennington, Blueberry Cheescake, Peach Cobbler, Crème brûlée

Finance and Christianity

Talking with my roommate, I mentioned how a lot of the Christians I know are in finance. He replied, "I don't understand how as a Christian you would ever go into finance or banking or anything of that sort. How is that supposed to be glorifying to God?"

And honestly I agree with him. A lot of the Sternies I know have said that they are simply interested in markets or find the job itself appealing but I always gave them the same response: "In the end, your entire career will still revolve around only one thing and that's maximizing profit."

How is a career that's based on making the most money you possibly can supposed to be glorifying to God? Are you actually doing anything that God calls upon you to do? I see people at Wall Street slaving away their lives, working for big shot MD's and CEO's. And for what purpose? Let's say it's not about the money. What else is there then? You get promoted and feel good about yourself? You get published in an article and earn fame and recognition? Everything is still about YOU. Sure you can say you're helping other people and companies by providing a service but the main goal is still to maximize profit. And no matter how you view it, the focal point will always be money.

If you ever come to a point where you have to lay someone off, are you going to just because somebody told you to? You might as well throw the poor soul off the Empire State Building. I'm quite disappointed and disgusted at how my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ can enter such a profession.

The reason I chose to go into medicine may seem cliché but I truly want to help others because I believe I can empathize with them. Ever since my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, I've wanted nothing more than to be able to help others who experience similar situations. 

I guess I don't understand how two different professions can be so vastly different.

One Sweet Day

The good times that made us laugh outweigh the bad
And I thought we'd get to see forever
But forever's gone away
It's so hard to say
goodbye to yesterday~

할아버지, 잘지내고 있지?

I can't believe it's been nine years already. Never had I imagined I'd be graduating from college in one semester and heading to medical school. Seems like time just flew by. But it's still so vivid...hiking with you on your favorite trail, sitting at the mountaintop eating the 김밥 you rolled early in the morning, and watching the sunrise.

At the time, my world ended when mom told me you were diagnosed with lung cancer. Even today all I ask is why? I'm still waiting for God to give me an answer. And even though you never proclaimed to accept Jesus as your savior, I choose to believe you're watching down on me from Heaven next to Jesus because he's performed miracles before. I choose to believe that you're still smiling so hard it's hard to distinguish your eyes.

I hope that everything I've done up to this point has been enough. I know how much you have sacrificed so that I have all the opportunities you never did growing up. And before I go, there's just one last thing I want to say:

I won't be afraid
I'll be alright if you help me
I know you're looking down from Heaven
And I won't let you down
I'll be everything you taught me
And all that I know is I'll wait
Patiently to see you in Heaven

To Love the Unlovely

"If you do not give up, but proceed to love the unlovely in a sustained way, they will eventually become lovely to you." - The Meaning of Marriage by Tim Keller

The Bible and Christians talk a lot about love. And I mean A LOT. Jesus once said, "Love thy neighbor as thyself." (Mark 12:31) But I feel like I don't have the desire to love everyone like Jesus calls upon me to. Some people are really annoying, some people I feel like are not worth my time, some people I just dislike for no apparent reason, and some people I just don't envision myself ever getting along with. I can't tell what's worse - the idea that I can't ever come to love someone or that it doesn't bother me that I can't ever come to love someone. 

One of my friends once told me that apathy is worse than hatred or anger. I asked her why.
"If you feel annoyed or angry towards someone it means deep down you still care to some extent, but if you're just apathetic or indifferent it means you don't even care. And that's why I think apathy is worse."

I never thought of it that way. I'm pretty indifferent to a lot of things. If something bothers me I'll force myself to ignore it so that eventually I won't care. I guess that's like the opposite of what Tim Keller was trying to say in a way.

And not to whine or complain but that's a lot of effort to love everyone. I think I'd go crazy having to talk to certain people. But why does Jesus say to love our neighbors as much as we love ourselves, if not more? 

My first thought was that it relieves you of the burden of hatred and bitterness. I can say from personal experience that it becomes very tiresome very quickly to be bitter towards someone. It's like a virus that proliferates and doesn't stop. You actually spend more effort and energy consistently hating other people than loving them. Think about it. When you hate somebody, you make the effort to either avoid said person or to make said person feel miserable. That's a lot of work! Not only that but whenever you see said person you usually feel down yourself. Low serotonin! It's a self-perpetuating downward spiral.

A virus has to be stopped by some external force or it will eventually just destroy its host. Our desire to love must be catalyzed by an external force as well - that catalyst is Jesus himself. 

Through his grace, sacrifice, and unconditional love, we need to find the desire to love others as Jesus loved us. Despite all our sins and unworthiness, Jesus paid the ultimate price by dying on the cross so we that we may be reborn.

So as I write this, I ask myself, what keeps me from feeling that desire to love?

Home Sweet Home

Before I left for NYU in the fall of 2010, I wanted nothing more than to be able to live in NYC by myself, away from my parents, away from everything. I wanted a new start in college, to find a new identity, to redefine myself as a person. I never liked myself as a person that much in high school. I wanted a change but never felt like I could achieve that in my little town in Jersey. I already had a certain image/reputation and it kind of stuck with me. But New York gave me the perfect opportunity to make myself the person I wanted to be.

But freshman year of college was more than I could have ever anticipated, filled with stress from academics, drama from girls and friends, and personal disappointment. Despite meeting what eventually became my closest group of friends at NYU, I felt a sense of emptiness. And unlike my friends who all wanted desperately to go back home, I chose to stay in the city over the summer by working as a RA for one of NYU's dorms. I landed a position at Smilow Neuroscience Center at NYU Langone Medical Center as an undergraduate research assistant that summer. I managed to keep myself preoccupied most of the summer with research and studying in advance for organic chemistry. Not once did I want to go back home to Jersey to see my family. I don't know if it was because I kept myself busy all the time, because I just didn't miss my family actually, or because I just hated home that much.

Same thing happened the following year, I stayed by myself all summer in the city and continued my research at Smilow. I still didn't miss home all that much. For me, it was more of a hassle to have to travel back to Jersey (which is only a 50 minute trip in total). But I still went on holidays out of obligation. My parents would frequently ask when I would visit so I figured I should.

But for some reason, I began to miss being in Jersey more my junior year. Fall semester I just wanted to go home. I don't think I've ever looked forward to Thanksgiving so much. I probably made about five trips back home throughout the semester, which is equivalent to how many I had made probably the last two years combined. There was a sense of peace rather than boredom, just being able to talk to my family, cooking recipes with my mom, playing golf with my dad, and such.

I guess one way college has changed me is that I've began to appreciate home more. Maybe it's just a sign I'm actually maturing. Or maybe it's finally a sense of belonging? I'm not really sure what the reason is but I just want to go home, sit on my couch, watch tv all day, and eat popcorn.

Congratulations AACF Class of 2013

Congratulations to the class of 2013. I know that all of you will go on to do great things in your respective careers. Thank you all so much for your guidance and compassion over the last two years since I've joined AACF. Keep in touch!

May the best of your today's be the worst of your tomorrow's

Finally they got it right!

Thank you Venus for your compassion and steadfast guidance over the last two years. I still have so much to learn and hope that I can faithfully guide others the way you have.

Thank you Janelle for the fun, engaging conversations on Kimmel 7. I know that you will go on to be a great nurse because there is no one I can think of who is more compassionate and empathetic and caring as you.

Thank you Cathy for your enthusiasm and energy. The words outreach still resonate in my mind. I hope to see your photos on TIME or something one day! 

Thank you Carrie so much for all the long talks that I know must have frustrated you beyond belief. Thank you for always being the best jiejie anyone could ever ask for.

Thank you Lin for being the best bro over the last two years. We've talked about everything from girls to cars to photography. I hope there's more bro conversations to come.

To Smorgasburg in the Midst of Finals

Tiffany you look beautiful here :)

Lumpia Shack! Pork, truffle adobo mushroom, and duck

In the midst of finals, it was nice to just escape from studying and Manhattan for a few hours. My friend Tiffany and I went to Smorgasburg at Williamsburg, Brooklyn to eat some good food. Yay for foodies! As usual, Smorgasburg did not disappoint, although it would have been nicer if the weather cooperated. All in all, I had a great time, eating delicious food, going to random hipster clothing and jewelry stores, and such. Hope you had fun also Tiffany! :D

Brooklyn Oyster Party! ME, CT, RI

The famous Mighty Quinn's Brikset! Waited forever in line...

Cake Bites! salted caramel and chocolate mint

Find Me Here...

Find me here
and speak to me.
I want to feel You
I need to hear You.

It's a song I listen and sing to everyday. But sometimes I don't feel like that last line is how I truly feel...

Sometimes, I don't feel like "I need to hear you" because for the longest time I feel like I've been on my own - on my own with school, on my own dealing with my insecurities, on my own dealing with family problems, just on my own.

I think a lot of it has to do with pride. I'm proud of the fact that I can, for the most part, deal with school and academics on my own. I'm proud of the fact that I stayed strong through all the hardships my family experienced. I'm proud of a lot of things. And I want to feel You but for the longest time I've never felt like "I need to."

But lately, for some reason, that "I want to" has become an "I need to." And I know I need to but I just can't. I'm still afraid of letting go of the reins, letting go of everything and turning to You because for so long I've been in control, guiding my own fate. I don't know where you'll lead me to and to be honest it scares the shit out of me.

I think one of the scariest things I'm still trying to learn is that no matter how much effort and time I invest into something, such as school or even friends and family, I may still fall short and be disappointed. I've been taught by my parents since preschool that my success is directly correlated to the amount of effort and time I invest. And for the most part, my parents have been correct. When I practiced cello or guitar for hours on end, eventually I was able to master thumb position and artificial harmonics. When I shot hundreds of free throws, eventually I was able to make free throws at roughly a 84% clip. When I studied my ass off for organic chemistry, eventually I was able to earn one of the highest grade averages in the course.

But every so often I find situations where that correlation does not hold true. It depresses me when I realize that sometimes my effort and time were for nothing. And when I don't see the success and results that I expect, I feel confused, I feel lost, I feel broken. I'm tired of constantly trying to live up to society's expectations and standards. I'm tired of trying to prove to myself that I can do it. I'm tired of feeling like I'm not good enough. I'm just tired.

Other Christians tell me that Your love is more than anything I can ever ask for in this life. If that's so, why do I still want recognition and respect from others? Why do I want to hear from a girl those eight letters, three words? Why do I want things that are nearly unattainable? Is it just human nature to want something I can't have or is there an emptiness I'm trying to fill? Why do I still feel so broken? Why do I never feel satisfied? Why do I feel like I'm just not good enough?

I want to be able to scream:

You're all I want
You're all I need
You're everything

And really mean it. I don't want them to be empty lyrics to a song I just sing because I like the melody. I want those words to be a true representation of my desire for You to be my everything. Because...

How can I stand here with You
and not be moved by You?
Would You tell me 
how could it be
any better than this?

I Wish I Could Keep my Promise

So due to some unforeseen circumstances, I confessed to you slightly reluctantly. I didn't really think it would ever have to get to that point but I felt like you deserved an explanation as to why all your best friends were hiding something from you.

And I know we said that we would stay friends and stay close and that we'd be okay. We're going to be okay...right?

I want to tell you we're going to be okay and stay close. I really do. But I can't...because it wouldn't be the the truth.

I don't know if we will be. I don't know if I will be (at least for now).

I know it'll be hard for me but I think I need to step back for a moment and deal with my emotions on my own. I don't want to lose you as a friend and the way I see it is that I need to sort out my own feelings first before I can return to being the "best friend."

So if you ever get a chance to read this...
If I seem like I'm being distant...
If I seem like I'm being cold...
If I seem like I'm not making the effort to meet up...

It really isn't you...
It's just me...

Carrying my Heart on my Sleeve Isn't Really my Thing

It's a pretty common expression - "carrying your heart on your sleeve."

I've always admired people who are able to do just that. They appear so confident and free. I want to be able to say "I honestly don't give a fuck what you think about me and I'm going to say and show what I feel because I can."

Now I'm not saying that it's okay to say whatever I want to. For example, it'd be flat out rude and disrespectful of me to call someone an idiot because I believed they were an idiot.

If I can think of a good example to illustrate the idea I'm trying to convey, then I'd pick Kobe Bryant. Kobe has always been an outspoken, self-confident baller. He demands perfection out of everyone, including himself, and isn't afraid to say it. He doesn't care what critics have to say about him. He says what he wants and leaves it at that, never once turning his head to look back. He gives everything 110% effort to prove his doubters wrong.

I look at Kobe and how he carries his heart on his sleeve. He lays everything out there for the world to dissect and criticize. But in the end, he still knows that he is who he is, no matter what anyone has to say. Then I look at myself. Why can't I just carry my heart on my sleeve? Why can't I just say what I honestly want to? Why do I worry so much about the after effects?

I think most of it stems from the fact that whenever I truly opened up to someone who I believed cared, they left me. They left me hanging onto the idea that they cared. They left me to wonder why they chose to walk away from everything. They left me with my trust in relationships shattered. I try to not expect anything from others anymore because I don't want to be disappointed more than anything else. Maybe I just hope for the best out of people too often. If anything, my past relationships have taught me that people will always constantly disappoint me.

Another part of it might be more subconscious than anything else. I've grown up with the societal idea that men don't really show their emotions because it's considered to be "sensitive" and "unmasculine." I guess that idea that has perpetuated upon itself. Generally I feel like talking about my own "feelings" and problems and worries would make me appear weak and incapable of solving something on my own. I don't want to portray the image that I need somebody else's help. I'm a person who takes great pride in being able to reason things out and then come up with a rational way to solve those problems.

There are still so many things I want to say to certain people. I want to tell the girl who led me on: "You really hurt me." It's such a simple statement to say but I still can't bring myself to say it. Part of me wants an apology still because I feel like I deserve one. Part of me believes that it's not worth the effort anymore because she seems like she's moved on so I should to. Part of me thinks that she's just one of those people that'll never admit to what she did. Whatever the reason, that simple statement is still something I want to say. 

I don't really know what it is that prevents me from sharing how I feel, even to my own friends and family. Out of all people, I feel like I should be able to tell them at least. But I don't. I don't want them to worry because all of them already have their own problems to deal with. In a way to block out others and hide myself, I usually just end up saying unnecessary insults to push others away from me. Stripping others of the opportunity to connect to me is just me trying to save myself from that disappointment I was talking about earlier.

But as I write this, I ask myself: "Can I really keep on living like this?" Can I maintain this "distance" from others forever? Can I really make it through life on my own? Can I bring myself to trust people again? Can I get over my own insecurities to carry my heart on my sleeve?

Contact

One Insecurity, Many Doubts

Throughout grade school and college, I've been labeled as "the smart student" or "the smart Asian." And ever  since I feel like everything I've done regarding school has further solidified that image/reputation.

Everybody wants to be able to tell themselves that they are good at something; everybody wants to be proud of being able to showcase a certain skill or talent - for some people that might be singing, for others dance, for some sports, for others grades.

That last category is me. Grades. Academics. Straight A's. More AP courses than I can count with my fingers. Graduated top 5 out of high school. Near 4.0 science GPA as a biology major.

I grew up believing that the only thing I had to be proud of was my grades and my academic achievements. I was almost always the last kid picked to be on somebody's team for dodgeball or kickball. I was too short to ball with kids for a pickup game. I never liked the sound of my voice when I sang. I was too shy to ever perform cello as a soloist. No girl has ever honestly once told me she just likes me as a person. I was the short, chubby Asian kid who everybody knew as the stereotypical "Asian nerd." Even within my close group of friends, I was always called "the smart one," "the nerd," or any other synonym you want to throw in.

And the "smarts" or intelligence that I supposedly have according to my peers has only been exploited. In junior year of high school, there was this girl I liked for over a year. We were in a lot of classes together but I'm pretty sure she didn't know I existed. To my surprise, we were put on a group project together for AP English and I finally got the chance to talk to her. And for those of you who may be thinking that this is sounding like the typical story of "boy liking a girl out of his league" and so on...well, you can't be more mistaken. She was just an average girl. Cute smile. Long, wavy brown hair. Big, black opaque eyes. Friendly.

The project went really well. We ended up getting the highest mark in the class. And we quickly hit it off (or so I thought). We began studying after school together, hanging out a lot, texting throughout the night, etc. I felt like that maybe this time...

But when I finally confessed, she replied with an answer that I never saw coming: "Oh, you really didn't think I liked you, did you? I thought it was pretty obvious that we were only friends. I mean it's great that you're helping me out so much with classes and stuff though."

I still can't tell if she actually wanted to be friends or just used me to help her with classes. It's somewhat pathetic that I still haven't let go of this from the past. I mean it's been almost five years. Like, seriously, get over it, right?

But I can't help but think from time to time that the people I consider my closest friends today maybe actually don't even really like me all that much as a friend. I notice that I'm usually the one who has to make the effort for us to meet up and hang out and do something together. I'm usually the one who initiates conversation. I'm usually the one waiting...

I don't really consider myself all that great of a person either. Maybe I'm just bitter from this idea that I don't really have anything to offer except my grades/academics. And that makes me think even more: "Why do the people who I consider my friends even bother talking to me sometimes?" Sometimes I actually believe they probably would live less stressful lives and wouldn't have to deal with an asshole, douchebag, self-conceited jerk like me. Occasionally I want to ask, "Would you still be friends with me if I was just an average student?"

And for everyone throughout the years who has commented on how I go overboard with bragging about my grades and such.

Say I told you that my grades/academics are the only things I feel like I have to be proud of and the only things I have to offer. Say I told you that I brag about my grades to hide the fact that I'm so insecure about myself from everyone. Say I told you I do all this because I'm so pathetic and insecure that I have to be able to see that I am better than somebody else at something through other people's shortcomings.

As pathetic and borderline malicious as that may seem, I have this necessity to know that I'm better than other people at something. Because growing up, my grades were the only thing that kept me going. If I lose that now, what do I become but just another grain of sand...

And I know I'm a douchebag. Everybody says it all the time. But what's the point of trying to change that image once it has been drilled into everybody's mind? No matter how much I want to change that now I can't. It's not possible because that image has stuck with me for too long. And say I do change for the better, become more empathetic towards others...if I'm ever stressed or upset and just act "like a douchebag," people will just say, "Oh you're being a douchebag again." Well I'm sorry everyone, but no matter how much I want to change that image, it won't change because y'all believe that's what I am.

Words I Never Said (and Probably Will Never Say)

I still find it really funny that we never met until freshman year orientation despite the fact we live only roughly a fifteen-minute car drive from each other. I don't really know what it was that drew us closer at first as friends - perhaps because we were in the same orientation group with aspirations to become doctors, or maybe it's because you were just a fun, outgoing girl who liked to meet new people, or maybe it's because we discovered we actually live really close to each other in Jersey and had something in common to talk about.

Whatever the reason, I can honestly say that meeting you at orientation and staying friends with you was the single greatest blessing God has granted me here at my undergraduate career at NYU. Through the highs and lows, the best and the worst, through all the pointless all nighters for general chemistry with Halpin, through the anger and frustration that was organic chemistry with Jones, and through the failure of physics professors (MacFailden), I find it both unbelievable and deeply moving that we stayed close friends.

Don't you think it's funny that after orientation we didn't really keep in contact the rest of the summer but then somehow through mutual friends we met again? And from that point on our friendship only grew stronger - countless all nighters spent on gen chem and calc 1, the French fries sprinkled with so much salt that made my face cringe at Third North dining hall, doing a bunch of stupid dances at Third North dance room and watching me fail at body rolls, and actually discovering that there was a drink known as bubble tea together (Northern Jersey problems). I look back at everything and find that we shared so many experiences together, the simple memories that I'll cherish for a lifetime, no matter where life may take me.

Our friendship is an interesting one to say the least; we constantly tease and insult each other but we both know that it's all in good fun. Hey, at one point, according to Facebook, we were technically husband and wife. Forever the cow! (but not really forever).

I still remember how excited yet embarrassed you were to tell me about your first kiss. It's strange to think how that was more than two years ago but only feels like yesterday. I think for me at least, the most fun I had was just being able to watch football and basketball with you. Not going to lie, it's pretty awesome when a girl knows her sports, not to mention be that passionate as you are (Nets are still going to beat the Bulls though).

And when I look back at our friendship, I can't help but also feel like I've wronged you in so many ways that it would probably take at least as long as medical school to make up for everything. I honestly wished you had told me how much of a jerk, asshole, whatever you want to say, I was. Why didn't you tell me how much of a stress I was to be around? But despite all the stress and negativity I put on you, you were the one who still managed to see the little good in me at the time, the one who gave me numerous second chances. And when Christians talk about forgiveness and unconditional love and how it is something we should all keep in mind and work towards, I know that God is here with me because I have a friend like you, one who always refused to give up on me.

I'll be frank. The lines and boundaries of our friendship started blurring for me a couple of months ago. I was in denial about it, constantly telling myself that it can't be, it shouldn't be, it won't be. But when I sat down and thought about it, I knew. The one girl who has always been there. The one girl who might love football and basketball more than I do. The one girl who can both sing and dance (really well might I add). The one girl with a heart bigger than I could have ever imagined.

I'm fairly positive that the thought has never crossed your mind and why should it have? At times I still ask myself if I even have the right to, especially after all that I've wronged you. But a little part of me holds onto a thin line of hope that maybe, just maybe.

I've always been the friend. The perfect platonic friend. And our friendship has built upon this idea of us always being the perfect platonic friendship. But I don't want it to be any longer. Everyday, for the past two months, I want to see you, I want to text you, I want to hear your voice, I want to share my worries and fears and hear yours, I want to grab food with you, I want to watch basketball together, I want to walk through the streets at night with you...

But I'm so afraid. Afraid that these words, the words I never said and probably will never say, might ruin our friendship. Would it be a betrayal of the trust you have for me as a friend? Would it be nothing but an act of selfishness to honestly confess how I feel? If you ever found out, can we still be as close as before?

Normally I would tell myself I would confess because I don't want to think about the 'what ifs' and such. I don't want to regret not saying anything. But this time, just this once, I think holding onto the words I never said may be the right thing.

Only Three Weeks Left

21 Days

1260 Hours

30240 Minutes

Three different ways to count down the time.

Only three weeks left.

I didn't really worry about this that much throughout most of the year but now that the MCAT is so close I can't help but feel a bit rattled and unprepared. Despite averaging a score of 34 on four separate practice exams, I'm worried that there's too many variables I can't control.

What if there's one verbal passage that I just can't get and it kills my score? What if I start zoning out during the 4+ hour test? What if I fall ill the night before? What if the MTA shuts down and I can't make it to my test site?

In a way, this test is the culmination of my college career. No pressure right?

Stuck on Replay

I can't believe it's been over a month since the last time I blogged about...well anything for that matter.

I made a New Year's resolution that I would try to blog at least once a week but obviously I've already failed at that. I guess I didn't anticipate this semester being so hectic and time-consuming. Each day I always have something to do, whether that be reading papers for classes, writing lab reports, tutoring students, taking practice MCAT exams, etc.

I've also made a commitment to try to regularly attend small groups and Sunday service, which for the most part I have. And I'm really glad I have because each week I learn something new about God, whether that be about Jesus in The Bible or about how to live out my own faith.

But something about this semester seems so repetitive, as if I know exactly how my whole week is going to go. I always follow the exact schedule I set for the week and frankly I feel like I should stop. Time management is good and all but I feel like I don't give myself any flexibility to do anything spontaneous. I miss making last-minute decisions to go get coffee with friends. I miss being able to just take my Nikon and go somewhere obscure and take hundreds of photos. I miss walking onto a basketball court and playing a pick-up game with strangers.

Where did the excitement of spontaneity go? Everything seems jaded.

The Impossible - A Beautiful Mystery

Last night some of my friends and I were at AMC Kips Bay and decided to watch The Impossible last minute. I'm really glad that we did because it was one of the most emotionally powerful movies I had the privilege of seeing in a long time. I love watching films that don't require ridiculous action scenes to be entertaining but rather utilizes human emotions in a way that leaves you amazed at how powerful the human spirit and soul can be. When I first stumbled upon a trailer of The Impossible, I was immediately captivated by the scene in which the tsunami comes in, destroying everything in its path, sweeping away the family we are about to follow on this amazing journey.

Based upon the true story of a Spanish family on a Christmas vacation in Khao Lak, Thailand, The Impossible relives the most devastating tsunami on record that struck Southeast Asia on December 26, 2004. In the opening scene, we see Lucas, the oldest son, annoyed by his younger brother, who is afraid of flying. There seems to be a disconnect between the brothers, something that I can personally relate to as my brother and I for a while grew apart growing up. The family arrives at a beautiful resort in Khao Lak right by the beach. And for the first 20 or so minutes of the film, we see the family enjoying the beautiful weather and beach, seemingly escaping to paradise.

While playing in the pool, Lucas and his mother, Maria, are separated from Henry, the father, and the two younger sons, Thomas and Simon. The tsunami then rushes in and the scene is abruptly blacked out, perhaps trying to convey the sense of losing consciousness. We soon find Maria clinging on to a palm tree for dear life, obviously distraught and still in shock from what just transpired. She sees her son Lucas taken by the current and desperately tries to catch up to him, only to be stabbed in her chest by a tree branch. By the time the water subsides, Maria is badly injured, her leg with a large, open wound, and her chest still bleeding profusely. On their way to climb a large tree in case another wave rushes in, they both hear the cries of a young boy. Lucas wants to go for the tree and leave the boy, screaming at his mother that she is injured and there may not be time before another wave comes. His mother asks him, "Listen, what if that boy was Simon or Thomas? What if they needed help? You'd want someone to help them, wouldn't you?" Lucas replies, "Simon and Thomas are dead!" As the audience, we are not sure if Lucas said this as a last resort to persuade his mother to climb the tree or because he actually meant it. His mother answers, "Even if it's the last thing we do..." I was glad to see that Maria chose to help the boy despite knowing the dangers lurking. I feel like too often people today compromise their morals for selfish and petty reasons. In the end, they find the little boy, Daniel, and they all climb the tree. After what seems like an eternity, some natives walk by looking for survivors and they help carry Maria to a local village. From there, the natives take Maria and Lucas to a hospital where Maria can receive proper treatment.

Watching this scene, I was deeply moved at the fact that the natives, complete strangers, went out of there way to help Maria and Lucas, safely transporting them to a hospital for further treatment. In times of need, I find it compelling that humans are able to come together, transcending all racial and cultural barriers, to assist one another, showing empathy and compassion (i.e. Hurricane Katrina, 9/11, etc). But I ask myself: "If humans are capable of such actions, why is it that we hear about it most often when some natural disaster or horrific incident occurs? Why can't we see this same empathy and compassion daily?" I think the reason why is because God is absent from our daily lives. We don't look to Christ first but more often as the last option.

Maria's condition worsens and after her first surgery she is left too weak to go receive the second. She asks Lucas to help others in any way he can. A Swedish traveler arrives at the hospital, asking Lucas if he has seen the traveler's son. Lucas searches around the entire hospital and eventually reunites the father with his son. When Lucas returns to his where his mother was, she is no longer there. We learn later that due to a mix -up of the records, she was listed under a different name. Although a very minor detail, I thought it depicted the confusion and chaos that must have taken place at the time.

The movie shifts to Henry regaining consciousness on the beach, desperately crying out for Maria and Lucas. The younger two sons miraculously are safe with very little injuries. Henry chooses to send his two sons off with another group to the mountains where they can receive food and shelter as he embarks on a journey throughout Thailand to search for Maria and Lucas. I couldn't help but get emotional when his two younger sons beg Henry to stay with them but Henry makes the tough decision to send them off. Thomas, the older of the two, graciously accepts the responsibility of looking after Simon. I loved how the movie also showed the resilience and perseverance of these minor characters.

Henry ends up injuring himself when he falls and is brought to a local shelter in which he meets a French traveler who happened to be at the same resort in Khao Lak. The French traveler tells Henry of how he injured his leg before his family was set to travel to Khao Lak and how his wife tried to convince him that they should all just stay home. But the traveler insisted that they go because they had been planning the trip for a long time. He recalls how he woke up to the noise of the tsunami rushing in and finding a note his wife left him on the table - "At the beach." Henry begins to share his story of how he was separated from Maria and Lucas and how he's searching for them. The traveler lets him borrow his phone, which is low on battery, so Henry can call Brian, Maria's father. As Henry begins to tell Brian of how he doesn't know where Maria and Lucas are, he begins hysterically crying, his words barely decipherable. He abruptly hangs up the phone because he knows other people need to make calls as well. The traveler insists that he call again, telling Henry, "You can't leave it like that." So Henry calls Brian again, promising him that he will find Maria and Lucas. This scene in my opinion was one of the best in the movie - a father and husband's determination and will to find his wife and son, the empathy and compassion of complete strangers, and the mutual understanding between humans.

After searching almost every shelter and hospital throughout the region, Henry ends up at the same hospital where Maria and Lucas are. Thomas and Simon coincidentally end up there as well. Lucas, while looking for water for his mother to drink, sees his father and desperately chases after him, only to lose him in the crowd. Screaming "Dad!" at the top of his lungs, Henry as well as Thomas and Simon, hear Lucas' plea and the four embrace each other. I could not help but tear up as I watched the father hug his three sons. The raw emotion that the actors conveyed on screen really hit home. In light of all the events in the past couple of months, I think that the film really reminds us of how important family and love truly is - cherish and appreciate it while you can because tomorrow it may be gone.

The family greets Maria as she is about to head to surgery. Lucas regrets not telling his mother of how he saw Daniel at the hospital with his father and prays that he will get the chance to. The family's travel insurance allows them to take an ambulance jet to Singapore the next day and Lucas shares his joy with his mother of how he saw Daniel with his father. I personally know the fear of not knowing whether or not the next day the woman who I call mom will be there or not. Remind your loved ones how much you love and share your joy because the world can definitely use more.

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"How do you know which stars are dead and which aren't?"
"You don't know. It's impossible - a beautiful mystery"