on generally bad days, i try to close the world out and remember all the good stuff. to make myself feel a little better.

so while making a cup of comforting yuzu cha, i remembered an incident in Seoul.

i was suffering from awful indigestion on the day we went to visit the YG building. looking for relief from the cold and the churning in my tummy, we found a cafe to settle in. with a smiley old lady and her husband.

everyone ordered coffee. how could they not? the couple roasted their own beans. they blended the beautiful beans. i couldn't have any of it. i was feeling down and out. so i settled down by the table where they were preparing the cafe au lait.

i decided on yuzu cha for my stomach. to ease the nausea and churning. and coffee smelt amazing. i was kicking myself inside as i watched the five others sip their coffee happily.

probably also from the feeling of wanting to die, i must have just been sitting there quietly, staring at the couple test out different blends of filtered coffee. my friends were probably in their own world. i don't remember much except for the smell of coffee.

but i won't forget all that happened after that.

the lady looked at me and asked if i liked coffee. i smiled and nodded back. she asked me why i wasn't drinking. i explained in halting korean that my stomach was in pain. she looked at my yuzu cha and nodded. she knew a little english so it wasn't all that bad. then she asked me if the smell made me happy. i could only nod, smiling back at her. i was really contented to sit there all day long, drinking yuzu and smelling coffee. she asked how i liked my coffee.

"americano."

"with sugar?"

"with no sugar."

she nodded with her own grandmotherly smile and returned her attention back to her coffee.

i wasn't paying much attention after a while. because suddenly, she wasn't behind the counter but in front of me. she set a pretty china cup in front of me, half-filled with black coffee. then she said, "no milk. no sugar. best way to drink coffee."

i asked her in korean how much the americano was as we had already made payment for our other drinks. she shook her head. "Free," came her reply in english.

my stomach was miserable and i was nursing such a giddy head. i could feel the tears stinging. but here was a stranger. someone i had met for 30 min at most. offering me a drink. simply because I wasn't well and loved coffee. i swear i'm not kidding when i felt like i was going to cry.

i took a sip of the warm black drink. it was glorious. my stomach didn't agree with it but my tastebuds adored it. it was absolutely fresh and beautiful. and it was a cup made out of love for coffee and a random fellow coffee lover. no strings attached.

i thanked her for the coffee. unfortunately, i was in no state to finish the coffee.

before we left the cafe, i asked for a photo with her. she kindly obliged. when we were looking at the photo, i thanked her again for everything. she gave me a little hug and wished me well.


it's the little things that keep me going when i want to shoot people's heads out to check if they even have a brain. sigh. keep remembering. keep holding on.

I need to stop feeding my face so much.

I need to finally buy a new laptop.

I need to find someone who'll get me my Raclique from Korea (damn you gmarket! You were my one hope!)

I need to question the amount of street wear in my wardrobe.

I need to stop feeding my face so much.

Late night rambles. Simply because my fat face depresses me. Diet starts on Monday. Let's go.

so i've been made to stare into a person's eyes just because momoren wanted to prove that he had a lazy eye..

and now, i'm made to help another momoren decide if he needs a haircut.




these boys are really getting too comfortable with me even though both incidents happened shortly after we've known each other.


i'm slipping back into buddy-zone again.

one day, when i was seriously concentrating on an article at work, my boss popped by my table and asked if i needed coffee. i shook my head with a smile and he asked me again. then he said i looked like i had zoned out.

zoned out????

then it reminded me of GL. whenever he's showing me a new technique or move, i'm studying how his legs pivot and how the punches or kicks swing.. i'm seriously reading his moves and trying to figure out how the punch works and where the kicks land. then he'll ask me if i'm tired out 'cos i look like i'm stoned.

i shared it with my girls. E agreed. she said that when i'm concentrating, i actually look like i'm confused and completely oblivious to what that's happening. and my eyes will widen but turn blank.

it's now known as the D.O look. the wide glassy eye look that seems to glaze over everything even though my head is processing everything.

i can't tell if D.O look is better than my death glares that my colleagues don't like though. hahahaha. something's seriously wrong with me.