Tips and Tricks

More tips and tricks, not including “it’s totally ok to buy your wedding dress from China” because that’s for another post. As is, “it’s a ok to have a wedding hash tag even though it seems cheesy.” Because, spoiler alert, you think it’ll be easier to link on social media and find all the pics. Even if this thinking is wrong. Yes, even if hashes are silly and cheesy. Someone sat down and wanted it. And who are we to deny bride(zilla)s joy?

This one is for moving.

Moving sucks. Pro tip for moving out of state?

Don’t do it.

I mean, this is coming from someone who’s moved out of state (like faraway states, not some diddly within-50-miles move) at least 3 times. Don’t do it.

It’s also become significantly more expensive. Pods, moving trucks, movers, add-ons. I mean, sure, you can find cheaper, sweatier, more friend-abusive means. But still, it ain’t cheap.

So yeah, even if you are cheapo about the actual process, nowadays it’s either pay out of your butthole for a down payment and mortgage or land lords (geez, we still call people lords?) first month, security deposit, and last month rent. I mean, I never had to pay for last month before.

My mom used to say this. I had no idea it was a thing. But luckily, we’ve got hunnies. So I guess we’re ok, right?



Funny how we note time by rotations (not spinning but whatever). One year, two years…. I guess in a sense time is relative but it’s easier if we’re all going by the same markings.

Having passed two years of marriage, and I’ve got no good relationship advice except: marry a good guy. Makes life easier. Simple, no? Marry a guy who wants to make you happy. People say that you can’t help who you love, and I guess there’s some truth to that. It’s a matter of whether or not you’re strong enough to walk away.

I’m also almost 40. I’m not saying that like it’s a big deal, but it’s a big deal to me since I honestly never saw myself past 20. So in a sense, I’ve been winging it since my late teens! Not too bad, I guess.

Anyway, just finding my groove back into writing. Suffer me.



Updates to those who still read this. We’re still house-less, but not home-less. The house we want keeps getting pushed back for minor updates and such, but we’re on our way and hopefully can get the keys by this Thursday!

I’m scared. Scared for the summer to end. But excited to start a new job. Kinda. I’m not sure what I feel anymore. Sometimes stuff just get jumbled and you feel all sorts of strange all at once and who can sort out emotions anyway?

In any case, hubs and I have passed year 2 of marriage and we haven’t done our celebratory ice cream cake eating. We said we’d do this every year (and last year, we did 6 months too!) since we had ice cream cake on our honeymoon. But we’re not at our own house with our own freezer so we’ll have to hold off.

We miss having our own home but we’re grateful to be able to share a good house and spend time with my nieces and nephews and help “baby sit.”

Bring it, future! (But not too fast, ok?)

All right!

Alright, it’s time to start writing again.


I miss it. I miss what it does to my brain. I also need a new laptop, but this will do. Admittedly, I’ve been avoiding writing mainly because it’s such a pain in the neck to do it on my phone and it’s such a pain in the neck to open up my laptop and wait eons for it to boot up and eons for me to open the necessary applications.

We’ve moved. Back in the Northeast. It’s a little bittersweet. I’ve been spoiled by all the snow days in the South, just for 2 inches of snow. Oh well. We’re closer to family, so that’s a plus.

The downside is that somehow, somewhere, by some voodoo magic trick, my sister and her husband are ardent Trump supporters. They are both 1.5 generation Korean, we were raised in the same household, live in the same universe… I think. BIL even has a “Deplorables” sticker he put on a fridge they have in the garage. He thinks it’s funny. My sister interrupted a conversation her friends were having with me saying, “Don’t say that. I love our president.”

I don’t understand this. I really, honestly, truly, don’t understand how human beings can stand behind this man. My sister and BIL are not Christians. They haven’t been for some time. It is not religious right-eousness that is motivating them. I’m not sure what is.

But we survive. Love, I suppose, survives.


The Year

It’s been over a year since I walked down that aisle I’ve always claimed I’d be dragged down (kicking and screaming.) I did not kick or scream. Nor was I dragged. Actually, according to most witnesses, I might have been seen skipping. Nah. I’ll deny it.

They say the first year is the hardest. Well, some say that. Others say it’s the honeymoon year. I’ll side with the latter. It’s been good. But he’s a good guy. Who else would I lock it in with? I’m almost relieved I found someone that I don’t have that nagging feeling in my mind that I’ll end up supremely unhappy someday. I’ve always had that feeling. And I’ve always been right. So I’ve always had peace walking away. But with this dude? Still enjoy the hugs and cuddles and spending all day together.

We recalled some wedding memories and laughed about them. Many things did go wrong (like the best man leaving the groom behind at home due to miscommunications) and my last minute lipstick smear all the way down my white veil (everyone was freaking out except me, under the flurry of Bounce wipes, clorox pens, H2O2 and a hundred “Oh My Gosh”es by my wonderful makeup artist. (I love you, Sarah. You are amazing.) But in the end there was no wrong, the groom was on time, no one noticed my veil, my dad did NOT get his request to have the venue’s two great danes to walk down the aisle with us (although he did decide to get up and check out the fireworks when they called him to the dance floor for the father-daughter dance), and no one caught on fire during the sparklers exit. Oh, and there were no terrible cicadas flying in people’s faces. Don’t ask if you don’t remember.

I cherish these memories, but I cherish the future too. Having someone on my team is a good feeling. Not that I didn’t enjoy singlehood. I did. Every moment, although there were always doubters. I was not lonely for wedded companionship. I enjoyed being able to travel and having my heart not tied when I traipsed around the world. These are memories I’ll also cherish.

Here’s to a year and to many more.


Today was the last day of school for the kiddos.

These past few weeks were crazy. It’s crazy for any teacher, but ask a good special education teacher how the last few weeks of school are and you may catch a crazy glint in their eye. It’s crazy. But I like it. I’m getting better at something, and it’s helping a student’s future. Productive work, yes.

There was a FaceBook thing a while back that had a list of MBTI personality traits and their supposed ‘worst nightmare.’ I resounded with most of them, but mine was particularly irksome. Something to do with working for something very unproductive while needing to get instruction from people who had no idea what they were doing.

Um… I guess that’s education most days of the week. But at least I feel productive some of the time.

Anyway, the kiddos are gone. Lots of hugs. Some teary little eyes. Lots of questions of whether I’ll be seen again next year. I’ll miss them. One of them thrives on hugs. She comes and gets her ‘power hug’ from me throughout the day. God knows we need power hugs. Another kiddo saw her do it and started requesting some himself. Sure, kiddo. Power hugs for everyone. Some teachers don’t believe in hugging their kids. I am not one of them. I will hug those suckers because who knows how much they need it?

You’d think I’d be relieved with kiddos being gone. No… not really. There are teacher work days (at least I am not sitting around in a circle discussing dress code. That is, however, another conversation for people who knew me years ago.) I have to pack up my room because we are doing a glorious shuffle at the behest of our principal. I am a little sad. I liked how I decorated my room (I used to be very spartan in my decorating but somewhere along the line I broke and found myself with a very large sun, blue skies, and little cutout clouds on my bulletin boards.) I had good help.

I also have classes to take. I like learning. But not when it impedes my chill time. I’d like to Matrix it up and upload thousands of gigs of data into my brain and walk away satisfied. I KNOW KUNG FU!

Also, I don’t know how, this time last year, I was doing IEP writing, cleaning, packing our house to move, and doing wedding planning all at once. Actually, I think I know how. I was insane. No sane person would have made it. Nope. So thank you, little god of insanity, for dragging me through that phase.

Speaking of which…. it’ll be a year later this month. Sometimes I am still amazed that I found someone who cares so much about my happiness. I can see it actually hurting him when I am hurt, or sad, or disappointed. It makes me happy to see him light up when he’s made me happy. I guess it’s a good deal, to find someone who is happy to see you happy, and who makes you happy when you see him happy that he’s made you happy.



I’ve been reactive lately. Something I hate. I always prefer to be proactive, forward thinking, ahead of the game, predictive and gracious, but not this. Not a reactor to circumstance, a person lashing out at things seemingly out of control. I’ve been road raging more, glaring at stickers on the bumpers of cars, veering away from empathy and defaulting towards prejudice and distance. This is not me. But this is not the America I know. The fringe has become the center, the ignorable narcissist the leader of the free world. 

I’m losing my grip. Things seem too unpredictable, reality suddenly doesn’t seem right anymore, and the trajectory of the way I thought things would go is all askew. 

In school today, the principal made an announcement, as he does every morning: “Gooood morning…!” But after the typical news about the ballet club, soccer practice, and new bus assignments, he said in the same tone of voice as if he was talking about who made the winning shot in the basketball game last week, “We here at S— Middle School just want to remind everyone that you are safe here. In these uncertain times, with the new executive order, we want to remind everyone that we will never ask you for any documents, or where your parents’ visa is from. You are safe and welcome here as part of our school family. Have a great day!”

And I bit my lip and yelled at myself so I wouldn’t cry. Grateful for grace, from public schools to public servants, from private citizens who effect change to outspoken demonstrators, from children who reach out their hands to grown ups who stand for justice. I am encouraged and renewed. I’m glad to hear these voices once silent and complacent through times of peace now emboldened by injustice. 

Keep pushing forward. Let us find ourselves again.