(Never) Think Before I Talk

12.

This year I’ve come face to face with human sufferings – from the pandemic to unexpected illnesses to depressive episodes that occurred to the people dear to my heart – I’d felt fear and sorrow and empathy that might never amount to the pain they’d gone through. But as I sit here cherishing the last hours of 2020, I’d like to bear witness to all.

With my interests on human capacity to express 90% of the time, I’m reminded that action is in fact of as great significance, if not more. Pay attention to one’s idiosyncrasies, likes and dislikes. Process the information, and most importantly, act on it. I’ve learned that it’s not just vital to say how you feel, but to show it.

I experienced the truest form of attention and care and loving support from the man whom I’d give nothing less in return. If there’s anything I learned from him besides the fact that there were times I wish he stepped on a lego barefooted – it’s that he’d given 99% on days I’d given 1% and… that just because two people tried doesn’t mean it’d always work.

Letting go has a different meaning – I’ve been diligent about sitting down and meditating. It took me, though quite a bit of cultivation to hear the voices in my head, the egoic and awakened states of consciousness. My heart still flutters in the worst of ways it could when I hear them, but now I allow my heart to drop the way it always has – each time begins to feel more familiar, with each time, it begins to feel a little lighter. There’re still days when I hear these voices hum in the ears. I’m just starting to be able to distinguish which of them is mine.

In moving into this new year there are going to be things I lose and things I gain. But I hope that I will continue to stay true to my heart, be candid with my words, and trust myself even – and especially when – feeling unsure. I hope that I will keep my eyes fixed on the light, to tell better stories. To believe that better things are possible. And not just to believe, but to work towards that end.

11.

I’ve started to pay attention to the sunsets outside of my window since early pandemic. How I watched as the colors changed. How I kept time by it, when time lost its meaning. How it continued and persisted and changed, even when the world stopped. How hopeful it felt. How pedestrian it felt. The feeling of fear was vague, though I remember it was present, at least in the beginning. I remember feeling stuck, and I remember feeling so, so lucky. A through-line of faith amidst the uncertainty.

It somehow feels harder now, which I did not expect. Sunset is no longer at the same time – that’s the thing I keep getting stuck on. The change. The darkness coming in a little earlier each evening. But there is a strange comfort in knowing that I felt scared then but it doesn’t affect me now. That the hues will surface again. It’ll just take time. This in-between, this season, it can’t be rushed. It’s enough to just live through it.

10.

09.

Physical weakness was one thing that I couldn’t not submit to. It swallowed me up and torn me down. It turned me into a vulnerable person who would do anything to make it not real. Survival mode is a hell of a drug.

I experienced anxiety attacks for the first time. It lasted for an entire night. My heart was racing. My chest was tight. It hit me again and again randomly the following days.

And that made me wonder – how to stay strong mentally when you’re not even physically are?

08.

I was going to write something about tightening my grip on everything these weeks – an attempt to achieve and perfect the outcome. But I kept getting stuck on the ideas of forgiveness and mercy and grace – and how I need to make a practice of them, for myself, and for others. Because, I think in some intuitive way, I know that to fill up the white-space in my life, I must first create some white-space within. The more we live, the further we move from perfection, and if that isn’t a miracle in all this mess then I don’t know what is.

07.

06.

I’ve learnt that in writing when you’re tackling something really big, you’re meant to write about something really small. Like how in war you write about the shoes. Then I read somewhere, “let George Floyd’s cry for his mother break your heart.” The small things can crack us open. I recognize that my more often than not tendency to stay silent was programmed into my psyche through my upbringing. I’m still working on it, but this is not about me. This is a story about humanity, about who we are as people, and about what lives we value. Black Lives Matter. Let George Floyd’s cry for his mother break your heart, and then take that broken heart and fight like hell to dismantle a system that says, everyday, in thousands of different ways, that some lives are more valuable than others. Bullshit. He cried out for his mother two years after she had passed. We’ve got work to do.

05.

Remember when you wanted what you have now?

04.

I picked up some food in support of one of my favorite restaurants yesterday and met eyes with a couple strangers, and those working at the restaurant, all of us in masks. One girl’s eyes curved into crescent moon-like shape, so clearly smiley that looking at her almost shattered me, realizing how much I miss seeing people’s smiles in passing, and how beautiful that beings will always find other ways of expressions. After all of this, I want to remember the small but significant joy that comes from really looking into a stranger’s eyes, really seeing who they are.

03.

I’ve felt an unease with voicing my worries and discomfort, mainly because I know there are people whose lives are in much more critical conditions, but I also want to get better at holding space for my own worries as I do for others. what I wrote last year seems very applicable at the moment. It reminds me of the cosmic cycle we are in, that bad things may happen again, but so do good things. It’s a personal reminder that it’s fine to still need time to process, to adjust. And that it’s okay if I’ve been unsuccessful at establishing some semblance of normalcy because things aren’t normal; that life is a constant shifting of sorts, and right now I’m still learning to shift in order to shift again, and that there’s power in being patient with all that.

02.

You know that feeling when you’re waiting for a photo to develop? The dark room, the glow of a dim light, the paper submerged in solution, that image just starting to take shape? Life has started to feel a lot more like that than not. And I’m trying to let that uncertainty excite me rather than terrify.

01.

I was a crier as a kid, and every time I cry, mom would get irritated, yell at me for shedding tears, and beat me for fight back. I remeber my 10-year-old self hiccuping through sobs, tears racing to chin, and mom’s scoldings stuck in my head.

But I don’t remember any of her words or the situations anymore.

The years and the age have caught up and made soft in her bones and in her speech. I’ve stopped arguing with her because I feel shame for not giving her the best I could, for not being able to communicate and open up like I wish she had during my formative years. I avoid looking her in the eyes sometimes because if I did, I would see my own reflection acting in similar ways here and there, because if I did, I could see her smile, soft but always the same. The kind of simile that says to me I will love you the same way I always have even if time and circumstances and life change… even if we change.

I’ve never brought this up because no matter how harsh she was, I’m now able to turn my face quickly to hide away the salt rolling onto my cheeks because mom taught me not to cry.

Mount Tamalpais: Breathe and Be

If not for the longer days or lighter breeze, I love summer days because it simply makes me feel most like myself. You forego the extra clothing and pare away the accessories, and maybe even do without any makeup. It’s the literal shedding of letting yourself just breathe and be.

On this summer day of July, we went on a hike at Mount Tamalpais and did a mellow 7mile – Matt Davis trail through a forest and redwoods while blue skies bathed us in light. The trail was a good mix of terrain and elevation gain, with many water crossings and sweeping views of coastal line.

As I age I’ve become increasingly aware of taking full responsibility of the energy I bring – to wherever I go and whoever I meet. Your perception of self affects your vibe and dictates your interactions with others.

So take care of yourself first.

Find more grace in the pockets of your heart – drink your morning coffee, go for a walk (as I call it, a walking mediation), write down the thoughts that run wild in your mind. I aspire you to make peace with the part of yourself you’ve been at war with, forgive the version of you who didn’t know better back then.

Tying you closer than most,

On Her

oh her

yeah i know her

when i think of her i see her dancing. but only in the kitchen. music and food to her were love and feeding people was loving them

she carried pasta. babies. boxes and steadiness on her hips the way mothers. movers and queen’s do

i remember that she laughed like a bell. or like windchimes in a storm. piercing tumult with levity that could be heard even in the distance

she had a tendency to look for the eyes in the room that saw the unspoken the same way she did. she found him that way

they heard silence and read undercurrents the same. while those around them heard only spoken words and saw only tangible figures.

she had the ability to curl into the cozy corner of a strangers couch like it was her own and leaves as an already old and trusted friend.

she was comfortable like that – shoeless, makeupless, planless… she had finally settled into her skin once she learned that you can’t feel another’s love fully until you feel your own

she felt the world like shouldering a duffle bag of bricks and when they felt too heavy. she set them down and tried to make something

not always something functional, but whimsical and beautiful and intentional… at the least

she wasn’t great with her hands. but her mind made up for the lack of dexterity. in fact. she was never really the best, but she humbly linked arms with gratitude and recognized that “best” was subjective and perhaps overrated anyhow but humility. integrity. and enthusiasm were. well. unbiased

she was the kind that looked for her reflection in others and was careful that she looked back at someone she wanted to be. if she saw a meanness. she addressed her own. if she saw a lack of awareness. she sought her own accountability.

but really. the reflection was always changing because so was she

and change to her was not just a welcome guest. but a carriage. one she willingly stepped into. because moving anywhere was usually better standing still

so yeah. i know her. i see her heart. because she really tries to show – often and without pretense. it’s confusing to some. but the ones that see it. really do

I am a part of all that I have met.

I am sometimes caught off guard by things that I miss. They are so specific. The purple bouquet on the dining table. The morning commute to my 8am internship when I got to steal a pause and indulge in my cheesy playlist. The nights I came home to my two best friends. We drank wine and poked fun and complained about the most trivial things that had happened during the day. The particular stretch of pavement between my doorstep and the street that I’d walk with equal parts fear and hope before a first date.

Life wasn’t at all stress free, but it felt just the right side of easy. Like faith itself was loose and adept and everywhere.

I had no idea it would feel this way, this place, college, this past year. It never occurred to me that I’d need to miss what I still had – what I’d not yet lost.

Four years of throwing a hook against a stone wall hoping it might catch, quietly panicked it might not.

I’ve come to keep finding some people in parts of me never knew existed – the friends that represent a world in me, a world probably not born until they arrive.

Leo

She is one of the most genuine, hilarious, and caring people alive. Ask anyone, and they’ll tell you the same.

She’s witty and sassy and got the most complex jokes that require at least ten seconds of thinking. She loves to buy well curated bouquets of flowers for the house. Particularly with baby’s breath. And she would order her dish different from everyone else’s just so we all can try it.

She is my ENFP twin and I recognize SO MANY tendencies that we share – self-victimizing, liking the familiarity of dramatic occurrences, owning up the secretly dark side of depression in our genes that no one would understand except for us. Our intuitive nature has for more than one time led us down a rabbit hole. We are so similar that I swear if we go to a club, we would undoubtedly hit on the same guy (it has happened twice, actually).

Though we resemble so ambiguously, she has taught me the most about giving, and being kind.

I know by heart that I’m the worst friend ever to anyone, but I’m taking baby steps to try to remember friends’ birthday – people that play a part in my life. I’ve come to share my food more often simply by saying, “wanna try.” And always take the initiative to help others as long as I can.

I refuse to let my bitterness reject and judge others. I refuse to be around anyone for any other reason than to love them.

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I own this more-giving-than-I’ve-ever-been part to Leo.

Pieces

I can safely say no one understands my personality better than he does. He is a person with a big heart, and he probably doesn’t even realize it.

I have always like my people a bit damaged. A bit difficult to stereotype. Who’ve seen themselves be cruel. Who’ve felt scary amount of insanity and rage and sadness. Who in all has come to attain familiarity and fluency with both their good and bad parts despite all that.

He is the one who was there for me when I was in a daily battle with depression, by showing me how everyone is tragically flawed, like him, and pushed me through life, anyway. With him, I feel like I am someone who is lucky enough to find someone who shines bright enough to lead me out of the dark.

He sees the best in people. He has always been an active listener to all my first world problems, my mental breakdowns that happen more often than not. He would look past the bad and spot the little things I should first appreciate, helping me see my strengths for myself. He does so effortlessly.

Our conversation runs so fluently, so handily. We would throw out stupid random questions at 8AM in the morning and vow to never speak to each other again, but in reality, he misses hearing his messages blow up at 2AM and I guess I need him in my life, too.

I always complain about how he doesn’t have an Instagram, because if he does, I could do an appreciation post on all that he did for me, for being there all along. But really, I also don’t think anyone needs to know because I’m certain he does more for others.

Recently I met a person. One time he complained to me about “the obnoxious Asian Asians”. He described them as uneducated, conceited, and ill-behaved based entirely on their one-time behaviors. To me, he appeared as judgmental, contemptuous, and insensitive.

That is not to say he fits into these criteria as a person. But his tone certainly did.

“You gotta accept people for who they are,” I quietly responded.

If one day I find myself solely focusing on the good in people – like this time as I uttered those words, it must’ve been because of Pieces.

I’m thankful to find this capacity in myself.

Sagittarius

We are so different.

She is everything that I am not. She possesses everything that I don’t have, – fierce drive, determined discipline, the urge to keep everything organized, and always ask for what she wants to know – all in all, a big personality.

She has a clear list of “non-negotiables,” as I like to call them – the things that she stands for in her decisions and cannot be swayed on.

She likes to make decisions and map out everything in her schedule – like a “control freak” as she would call herself.

Not surprisingly, from her I learnt the most about taking up space, and this is soOoOo important as a woman.

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There were days where all I wanted to do was run myself in circles around lies I couldn’t piece together. I wanted answers but that’s the thing about my nature: it wants me to obsess over things I cannot change, things that I am too afraid of losing, and it wants me to be helpless to move forward.

I remember that one time she was there to push me to don’t play by the rules. Don’t care about the metrics. To send the text, to ask the question. Even though in the end I came to a conclusion that it was better do my relationship my own way. I appreciated it.

There were moments where I came up with all these wild thoughts and she was the one who didn’t see my dreams to be impossible. The one who grounded me in truth but also taught me to reach for more.

There will come a day, in the not so distant future, when I will muster up my courage to be an advocate for all that I want to be. And I will for damn sure know where it all came from.

So yes,

“As you grow older, you start to realize you play a role in the becoming of other people. Words either hurt or heal. They build a person up or they cause a person to shrivel. Words hold power and you get to decide, every single day, how you want to use your words. Go for growth. Go that extra mile to encourage someone else. Point people out from the crowd and call out their greatness. You are a grower of people. You get chances every single day to lift others up. It’s an immense responsibility but it can change your whole life. When all else fails: life others up and into the light.”

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As I’m typing this, I’ve just/already graduated. Three weeks into adulthood, and I’m finally able to catch a breath.

Despite all that, I’m mostly surprised by how much I don’t miss. And how so much of what I do miss feels irrevocably lost. As though it’s been packed up and put away.

In fact, it soon will be. In two weeks time I will leave, and I will not look back. I will give thanks for these four years, but my body yearns for what my heart wants.

It’s a decision that I feel deeply and quietly and unambiguously right. Which is to say, I’m excited.

This photo was taken when a company flew me back to San Francisco for an interview, and yesterday they just called to extend me a full time offer. I’ve never thought of my post-grad job search as this easy.

I’m still not sure of most things in life, but one distinct clarity I know of is that, if I stayed in one place, I wouldn’t have much to share or things to write about.

I may never again relive my last year of undergrad. But I am every story I have ever read. And every word I have ever written. I am a part of all that I have met. And I most certainly wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Tying you closer than most,

Yolie

Motherland: Happiness As Simple As That

My mom and I went on a trip away from civilization in a remote area in China. This was for sure not the most glamorous place to visit nor the most quaint town to live in. I wouldn’t necessarily choose this place, if it’s not for my mom.

The trip was hectic, but so worth it.

Hammered silver jewelry and rose petals filled pancakes that repeat themselves on nearly every street. Ethic minorities who pride themselves on their hieroglyphs and exotic cultures. Overnight train where two triple bunk beds are cramped into each tiny compartment.

A liberating and humbling realization of traveling is to experience the differences among people, and learn to embrace them in spite of it. The notion that we are all inhabitants of the same planet yet we live such different lives, pray to different gods, but can still share a raw genuine human connection is just so rad. Here’s some magic to share from a remote part of my motherland, where people lead the simplest and happiest lives.

Yunnan, China

After a week long bus trip, my mom and I flew back to our home city, for my grandma’s birthday.

My mom used to take me to Hong Kong every break to visit my brother and cousins. And Hong Kong has since become one of the places in which I dream of living. A week in this wild city is honestly not enough. And then I’ve come to a realization that you’ll probably never feel that your time spent in one city is ever enough.

Sheung Wan, Hong Kong

Hong Kong, Hong Kong

Shek O, Hong Kong

Love always,

Yolie

In Building This Life Pt. 22

2017 has been magic, and not. Or the year of me being 22, as my birthday is only four days away from the end of the year.

All somersaults forward and utter stillness.

All of which, if I had to be honest, was a year-long shitstorm. And I can’t even make it sound pretty.

In 2017, I wanted to walk through the very best door.

In the first two months of this year, I was out of the woods with new perspectives gaining from studying abroad.

I felt recharged. I felt whole. And all until I crashed into someone, falling head over heels.

There are some people who you look at, and you can just tell how the story will end. But when I looked at him, I just knew instinctively, that despite the odds against us and although life would always find a way to test us, I’d look forward to a new day after him.

He isn’t super my type. He doesn’t have the right combination of a 6’ stature and an athletic body. But we met, we clicked. He quickly drew out the long-lost caring and loving side of me. He was the reason why I started to give a fvkc again.

Prettiness aside, we had more than our fair share of ugly arguments. Time and time again we were tested by our differences, idiosyncrasies, and individual flaws that were unavoidably brought to light as any two people move forward.

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When it became clear that our interests didn’t match up, I still held on.

I went from being a confident free spirit to a self-doubting emo cripple staying in an almost-relationship, stagnant and idle.

I couldn’t escape from the feeling that I was unworthy. It was a feeling that taped into almost every other negative emotion I was capable of. I was stuck in a long period of thick depression, fumbling through life half-hearted.

I almost lost it all for someone who had nothing to bring to my table. Who I thought was my very best door.

Hope, as it turned out, took quite a lot of work.

Luckily for me, my soul wasn’t going to give up that easily, instead, it led me back to blogging.

Words have always meant everything to me. Words have somehow convinced me that I mustn’t live ordinarily. I must be wild enough to chase after my dreams and then, maybe then, I will become those dreams.

With my first blog created back in middle school, I wrote only in Chinese. I liked to play with words, break conventional grammar rules, which in turned made my peers tilt their heads in confusion – “Reading this is giving me a headache.”

Years later, I still am, surprisingly yet thankfully, embracing writing. For a long while, I’d been seeking my muse, my anchor in English format. As I worked to put together pieces of work, some would comment, “Are you depressed?”

In reality, this is just how I write.

But I don’t find that annoying. I find it rather cute, actually.

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In May, I dedicated myself to this blog. I polished the site to look more professionally, sorting out categories of lifestyle, travel, and more.

I’ve come to own my feelings, take pride in my passion.

Own your stories. Our stories are ours, they belong to us, and we should be able to tell them – not at the convenience of others but when we are ready.

I am a sucker for words, and especially for words that when strung together feel like an entrancing story. Or maybe if I work hard enough the story will sing. It will come out right and strong, it will matter.

You never know.

I remember a time when my cheeks were ablaze, but now the only blaze that flares up is the one in my heart called passion. The passion to move forward. Sometimes the flames dim, like today. But all it takes is a good idea, fuel, to bring the flame alight again.

It’s a tough world out there, but it takes a tougher person to be gentle in it.

I practiced forgiveness – for myself, too.

For myself, especially.

It has taken me a very long time to understand that there are people who are just not good.

This is the time where the whole society is questioning patriarchy, power, and misogyny, #metoo. And for the longest time I withheld the details; I still do to some degree. Out of the fear that people would question me, doubt me. Because I regretted denying my instinct from the beginning which was to avoid him.

For a long while I thought that as everyone aged they’d shed the noise of immaturity to reveal an innate goodness below. They’d be sensitive, soft-spoken. But that in fact takes quite a lot of work and the intelligence to know when it is needed. And some people are so deeply toxic with themselves that it is easier to cast the toxicity outwards and catch others in the net.

It turns out that as one works up the courage to leave the situation all together, it only creates more space to confront it.

Which is why, it is only now, all this time later, that I am loosening my grip. But it is an uncomfortable process. Something very human in me is still reminded of the hurtful snapshots from time to time. Something very human in me is afraid to break free.

But through the thick of it,

I’ve come to forgive the people who I love/loved for being as flawed as everyone else, as flawed as I am.

I’ve come to forgive myself for being the one who has to go through all that. There is not one thing you are meant to know before you are meant to know it.

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Despite how open, peaceful, and loving you attempt to be, people can only meet you as deeply as they’ve met themselves. The eyes see only what the mind is ready to comprehend.

I still want to walk through the very best door.

But I’ve learnt not to make the mistake of choosing the closest available door, as opposed to the best one.

So this is a little PSA (mostly for myself) to say: Try anyway. Do the best you can. Make peace with the imperfection of it. And move tf on. Sometimes your best isn’t quite as great you’d like it to be, but that doesn’t mean it’s not enough.

Finally in mid-September, I started to take my life back. Little by little. Piece by piece.

I moved into a new house, living with two of my best friends. Some days were still so damn shitty. But then I was reminded of the women I knew, and I was like. Aite. “We can do this.”

I dug into new possibilities and found myself hooking into data analysis. So much so that transcribing data became my alternative way of translating the non-sense to words. As if writing my own dramas and feelings and anecdotes is not enough and I have to steal the words for other things.

Later in December, I got a job offer at a well-established marketing firm. And that was when I truly reaffirmed that, you attract whatever energy you radiate — again… the Law of Attraction 101.

As life inches forward…

This year was hard. I think I can say that honestly, without addition or pretense. I am so glad this year is ending real soon. And as I’m back home in San Francisco for my last-ever winter break, quietly happy, I couldn’t help but think I’m moving onto 2018, or 23, with everything I might need.

A little bit of grit. A sense of awe. A capacity for both joy and sadness. A clear and meaningful value system. And a deep appreciation for the woman my 22nd year made me – or the woman I became in spite of my 22.

At the end of the day, people don’t really change. But at the end of year, they kinda do.

Tying you closer than most,

Yolie

Chicago: Where You Are Your Most Authentic Self

They say that there are feelings you can never find words for, and you will learn to name them after the ones who gave them to you. I’m doing just that, except for me it’s with all the places I’ve been to.

Willis Tower

Millenium Park

Downtown Chicago

Millenium Park

My best friend and I have a few traditions, and traveling every summer is among the most consistent of all. Why are we best friends? I honestly don’t have an answer for that.

We are inherently different in many ways – we have completely opposite personalities, and our logic reasoning contradicts. She, is crazier than I am. I think we can safely say that. Where I am timid or hesitant to make my presence known, she stands right beside me. She makes no apologies and gives zero fvkc. She is a lesson in taking up space – and as a woman – that’s a vital revelation.

Yet we are not so different. We see things from almost identical perspectives. We both come from a long line of fighters, a honest place. There is one doctrine we always hold dear to our heart – on the face of any matter, we act with raw instinct and absolute candor.

Chicago is the sixth city we’ve been to together, and embarrassing stories happened all the time to say the least. They are messy, crazed, and amusing. To mention but a few, in Seattle, we attempted to put in a song request at a club, and of course, no one cared. We then missed our flight back to San Francisco because of a detour to get boba. And during this trip in Chicago, we went out with our Airbnb host and her friends only to get charged extra for the same consequential reason. Just typing these already makes me chuckle a little.

Below I have curated a list of highlights of my time there. Do read on and bookmark these spots if you are planning on a trip to Chicago one of these days.

To do:

Willis Tower
- As an iconic landmark of Chicago, Willis Tower is the tallest observation deck in the city. It offers sensational panoramas of the entire downtown and the extended coastal line. A recent addition – the Ledge – all-glass balconies extending four feet out allows you to look down to the street from the 103rd floor. (Tips: if you plan to take some good photos at the balcony, have your poses ready ahead of time as every person only gets about 30 seconds due to the long line of people waiting.)
Navy Pier
- If you’re a kid at heart, Navy Pier would no doubt be your favorite adventure. This corner city is sort of like a carnival. It contains some rides, a Ferris Wheel, a Shakespeare Theatre, a Children’s Museum, an oddly large number of beer gardens, and even miniature golf.
Lake Front Trail
- A nearly 20 mile recreational area that runs along the Lake Michigan. The waterfront promenade boasts sweeping views of the entire harbor. You’ll find many locals running, walking their dogs , or chilling on the bench.
Millienium Park
- Located right downtown, Millennium Park is one the most stunning bits of urban planning in the city. While there, don’t miss the Cloud Gate sculpture, locally known as “The Bean.”
Oak Street Beach
- We didn’t make it this time due to a time constraint, but Oak Street Beach has always been on my bucket list as it consists of two of my favorites – beach and skyscrapers. If you’re traveling to Chicago in the summer, a beach visit is a must!

Willis Tower

Navy Pier

Chinatown

Navy Pier

Lake Front Trail

Millenium Park

To eat/drink:

The Hampton Social
- If you’re anything like us, you’ll probably fall in love with this place as soon as you see the the stylish, nautical interior. Serving up seafood and beach-themed cocktails, The Hampton Social hosts live music events, and offers a breezy hangout space just as the Hampton getaway.
Bridge House Tavern
- Brunch by the river walk. This is the place to go if you like to accompany your meals with a nice view.
Lao Sze Chuan (on Michigan Ave)
- Lao Sze Chuan is known for its modern interpretation of classic dishes. The atmosphere of this place is more upscale than your usual good Chinese restaurants. Not many people can handle the Szechuan hot spicy, but this restaurant is definitely worth a stop.
I|O Godfrey Rooftop Bar
- For an undeniably beautiful view of Chicago, head to the Rooftop Bar, perched on the top floor of the hotel Godfrey. Just keep in mind it can get very crowded on weekends.
The Allies at Soho House
- Very rarely will you find a place that can serve up morning pastries and latte as well as it does evening cocktails, but Allies is one of the few. My recommendation is head over for a cocktail or two after a long day of exploring. A beautiful interior, and a prime location inside the exclusive Soho House are just the icing on the cake.

Hampton Social

Chicago Riverwalk

Bridge House Tavern

Downtown Chicago

Chicago is the place where I get to be my most authentic self as I am taking the most steps I’ve taken for myself in a long while.

Plan a trip and hop on a plane, with or without a companion. Go stare at the vast universe. Acknowledge your trivial existence as well as your absolute importance.

I’m doing just that for myself, and I wouldn’t change a thing.

‘Tis all.

Thanks for reading.

Love always,

Yolie

On You

There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it.

I met someone.

It was an accident.

I wasn’t looking for it. I wasn’t on the make.

It was a perfect storm.

He said one thing, I said another.

Next thing I knew, I wanted to spend the rest of my life in the middle of that conversation.

Now there’s this feeling in my gut.

He might be the one.

He’s completely nuts, in a way that makes me smile – highly neurotic.

A great deal of maintenance required.

He is you, that’s the good news.

The bad is that I don’t know how to be with you right now.

And it scares the shit out of me.

Because if I’m not with you right now,

I have this feeling we’ll get lost out there.

It’s a big, bad world full of twists and turns,

And people have a way of blinking and missing the moment,

The moment that could’ve changed everything.

I don’t know what’s going on with us,

And I can’t tell you why you should waste a leap of faith on the likes of me.

But damn, you smell good, like home.

And you make excellent coffee.

That’s got to count for something, right?

– #Californication

What It’s Like to “Adult” on Short Notice

Two things that happened last month has fast-forwarded my life at an exponential rate.

In a blink of an eye, here I am, a 20-something adult who just witnessed my first friend get married, and started my first full-time internship in SF Financial District.

Real shit in life slapped me in the face – marriage is now a thing in my age range and right beside me, the urgent need to follow a grandma schedule so that I can wake up for my 9 am, the thought of how I want my future to look like and whether my abilities match up.

All of which, if I’m honest, has caught me off guard. I’m still unready (and yes, too lazy) to ACTUALLY “grow up”.

However,

As I fumbled through my first two weeks of internship, I’ve found that adulting was not just what I’d always envisioned it to be – exempting from homework and exams, or holding responsibilities that more experienced adults cling onto.

Essentially, it is about the process of becoming.

You do the “adulty” things to feel, pull through, and eventually pass into the state where what you have to do is what you do.

And in the process of adulting…

I: Bonding With the Right People Is Key.

Interning at a non-profit has definitely taught me the hard way.

What we do? We host events to raise awareness for partnered charities. We bring those who can help to those who need help. To be more specific, it involves high levels of face-to-face communication, creative brainstorm, and team spirits on the daily basis.

In a setting where I have to constantly meet clients and make them believe what I believe, I’ve come to recognize similar characteristics that dwelled in those who reciprocated in the conversations, and expressed concerns in the matter.

Regardless of their final decisions, they showed respect, demonstrated proper demeanors, and responded with a dose of compassion.

They behaved this way NOT because this was all they knew. But they saw their own full spectrum of capabilities, and decide on it.

It’s vital to differentiate the right people.

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Translation:

“The best kind of people are the ones that come into your life, and make you see the sun where you once saw clouds. The people that believe in you so much, you start to believe in you too. The people that love you, simply for being you. The once in a lifetime kind of people.”

“I’m so lucky to have you two (´༎ຶོρ༎ຶོ`)”

I’m not naturally a people person. I’d go out of my way to ignore someone I know in the street when I’m not in the mood for a conversation. Sometimes I’m extremely socially conscious but also fiercely individualistic – wanting to fit in a group but never compromising my personality to do so. And ALWAYS having the tug-of-war between “YES, I WANT TO GO OUT” and “nah, grandma needs to rest.”

But when it comes to the right people, I’d want to, and feel the need to invest in them.

I still do things on my own terms. But I’ve come to minimize excruciating small talks. Divert the effort to people who I know would appreciate and reciprocate. Listen to and learn about their stories. And be vulnerable enough to share some of mine.

It is then I learn that as soon as I begin to pay ACTUAL attention to the right people, foster meaningful and consistently loving relationships with them,

They will respond in the exact same way and take matters into their own hands. It’s Law of Attraction 101… Duh.

II: There Will Be A Lot of Rejections.

To be frank, out of the countless pitches we delivered, the percentage of funders we converted was not too high (but close to average, though).

And as an intern, I am the first point of contact for potential clients, and inevitably, receive rejections firsthand.

“I’m on the clock.”

“I’m in a big hurry.”

“No thanks.”

By taking in all the rejections littering almost every conversation, I was reminded of the convenient elements in formulating an excuse – time, incompatibility, etc.

They exist in different forms in a relationship.

“I’m not ready.”

“Let’s take it slow.”

*No response*

Human beings, especially myself, have developed a high capability to deaden feelings, and a tendency to lose one another.

We owe this skill to our mastery of empirical rejections – the power that comes from numerous trails of deciphering messages (three-letter responses, disappearing for hours, for example) and acting on that knowledge to normalize and absorb the same behaviors (keep it short, make him wait).

We reject the rejections anticipating a comeback. We play the same rules the other person set. Basically, we let other people dictate our actions.

I’m an avid believer in magnetism, the power of human aura, and its ability in influencing the things and the people around.

When facing negative energy, a skilled empath would acknowledge it, know how to discharge and deflect it, but MOST people would unknowingly absorb it.

And I was one of them.

My friend was right. I was like a robot. I was programmed to embrace the concept of give and take, only willing to put in as much effort as I received. All the toxic energy so caught up with me that even when something good happened, I questioned if they’d be better off without me.

I expected the worst, so I refused to be forward.

I hated feeling void, so I’d rather not have it at all.

But alas,

All the rejections thrown at me at work brought me face to face with the lost pieces of me – my ability to crush objections. Instead of feeling defeated, I could be an initiator myself, a source of positivity and vitality for others.

I’ve come to be wiser and more patient. I stopped letting the negativity. Or the “texting rules.” Or the fear of getting rejections deter me from trying.

Try, anyway.

Continue to love and long and lust for the pleasures of life. In every single way there is to express to and experience the people around.

Be sweet. Be caring.

“But what if it doesn’t work? how do I get better?”

Annalee set down her crossword. “You should say good-bye.”

“It’s too late. He’s gone.”

“Sometimes it helps to say it anyway.”

“Can you tell me … Did he ever feel the way I did?”

“Ah, baby.” Annalee tapped her pen gently on Gracie’s hand. “Some of us wear our hearts. Some of us carry them.

– Stephanie Perkins, “Head, Scales, Tongue, Tai”

III: What You Do Makes YOU Who You Are.

As you might have guessed, working for a non-profit wasn’t my first choice.

Right, my internship decision has gotten me some slightly shocked looks at social gatherings, “that must be, umm, rewarding?” folks would say, sneaking a glance at my scuffed shoes.

It’s strange how oftentimes there is a negative connotation associated with the name “non-profit.” The public perception would link it with lower pay, fewer resources.

As real as it gets, my two weeks of experience told me the otherwise.

In this short amount of time, I met some of the most inspiring team leaders in my life. They had high stamina, tactical communication skills, and were willing to teach. And also a group of charismatic interns who came from varied accredited universities and owned big hearts.

Despite of the name “non-profit,” I was surrounded by individuals who motivated me, challenged me to be better, and I aspired to become one day.

I was at war with myself: do we choose our jobs based on what we expect to gain or who we hope to become?

I think the truth is that life is going to place you into many, many uncomfortable positions. And sometimes we don’t really get to choose. But if it matters to you, cultivate it.

Here’s the rub: it has to matter to you.

Dig it. Work on it. It’ll all add to your characters writ large.

Be kind. Be good.

My internship decision might not sound as cool as other corporations,

But I see myself in it.

Because at the end of the day, this is the type of person I hope to become.

IV: Be Patient, It DOESN’T Happen Over Night.

Conventional wisdom is that it takes 21 days to form a new habit,

And anywhere from 18 to 254 for a lifestyle change to feel automatic.

Since what we’re talking about here can mean making a fundamental change to the coding of our operation system,

Depending on your levels of commitment I’d go right ahead and triple that.

I think that’s like it all about.

Learn something you always wanted to, learn something you hate so much,

But you’re never too good at anything.

With all love,

A gloomy optimist

Toronto: Home Is Where The Family Is

Toronto is the city that always holds a special place in my heart, because of the people, and the memories that followed. This weekend getaway consisted of: family reunion, speaking home dialect, celebration of middle-school friendships, and rose-tinted memories filled with nothing but love. To top it off, my brother and I got a picture together in as long as I could remember, and we didn’t even look alike (｡-_-｡).

Jarbistro

Chestnut Hill Lookout

Downtown Toronto

This trip was made possible in large part thanks to my cousin, who was studying abroad in Canada, and to celebrate her completion of the program was conveniently taken as an excuse for the two families to gather in Toronto, where my brother and his wife now reside in.

Just as re-reading a book at a different stage of life would allude to new visions, re-visiting a place for a different purpose would give you an experience unlike something else. My last visit to Toronto was part of my high school graduation trip, in which I got to fully explore the city in the span of two weeks. Three years later, I was back to this city. It felt familiar, like visiting an old friend, yet intriguing, as this time I was with my family.

Family trips don’t happen often as I grow up, and my last memory of the four of us – my parents, my brother, and I – being together was already two years ago. My parents are not naturally expressive people when it comes to parenting. Many times they attempted to be caring, loving, things came off as ugly – gentle reminders became nagging grumbles, occasional chitchats became hypersensitive fights.

The teenage me was especially rebellious, impulsive, and careless. There were times when my mom and I needed to communicate in letters – it was writing that allowed us to take all the space and time that we needed to sort out the emotions and put together the thoughts. I still remember her handwriting was so firm, so angular. There were strikethroughs scattered here and there, but nothing big enough to affect readability. During my most paradoxical stage of life highly dominated by adolescent hormones, my mom sought out a written form of communication that turned out to be the most effective buffer in the relationship between us. We resorted to a common ground through working to understand the misunderstandings. After all, “I love you” and “I’m sorry” and even “I don’t really give a shit about you” are communicated more through actions than through words.

Something I never said too much – I love you. My parents never said it much, either. And I thought I’d be different, but I guess I’m not. Don’t be mistaken if I appear to have received an unhealthy upbringing (although that is kind of the direction this took, my bad). I truly feel more than grateful for the independent and soft spoken role model my mom has embodied. A sentence like “I love you” is never extra, is never too much of a sweet note to end a phone call with the family, with the loved ones.

Okay, before I digress into more childhood story, below are the spots I personally love to stop by in Toronto:

To Do

High Park
- Best time to go: late April for the cherry blossoms or September for some fall colors.
Toronto Islands
- A short 15-minute ferry ride will take you to another world of idyllic picnic spots, car-free streets, and beachfront attractions. I spent a day here biking around and enjoying the nature. I have to say the Toronto’s growing skyline from across the harbor is the reason alone to visit.
Niagara Falls
- It is about two hours from Toronto, easily accessible by casino buses. There are also ice wine breweries around the area for those who are interested.
Kensington Market
- Located right next to Chinatown, Kensington Market hosts a number of diverse restaurants, specialized groceries, and self-employed vendors, from vintage jewelries to ethnic fashions. Tip: remember to haggle to get the best deal!
Ireland Park
- A green, quiet corner nestled inside the Metropolitan area. At here, you can appreciate the Toronto skyline in peace, and a handful of bronze sculptures, of course.
Cloud Gardens
- An indoor garden located in downtown Toronto, open only in the mornings on weekdays.
Chestnut Hill Lookout
- Known as the perfect makeout spot in Toronto, it is hidden in a residential neighborhood. At here, you can overlook the entire Don Valley Parkway.
Montreal
- As a historic hub of the nation, Montreal exudes a slice of old Europe in a pie of magnificent architectures. It is an overlooked town that you don’t want to bypass if you’re not on a time constraint. It takes about six hours of drive or an hour by plane from Toronto, but spending a day or two here is plentiful.

To Eat

Jarbistro (Japanese fine dining, set off by a chic interior design of light wood and exposed brick)
Sake bar Kushi (Sushi & grilled Japanese eats, with striking dark wood interior traditionally decorated)
Fishman Lobster Clubhouse Restaurant (Hong Kong style seafood creation, ft. king crab, gigantic lobster, and mean-muggin’ fish)
Lavelle (rooftop bars / French eatery / brunch)
The Porch Toronto (rooftop venue for cocktails & brunch)

(Additional photos of Toronto Islands and Montreal from my last trip in case you wonder how they look like:)