WHY i didnt lose weight post college.

woorijip, ktown: post bible study quality roommate time.

kim bap, miyuk gook, spicy dak

christie ahns, sunnyside queens: quality davis love 

shrimp pasta and sriracha + raz & haagen daas (not shown here)

broadway cafe, flatiron: the chefs love me 

always drawing smiley faces for me

tea w milk and sugar and whole wheat bagel w cream cheese

strawberry cream cheese special order. thas right.

cafe mulberry: my roommate makes me the best food 

ask yourself, whats yours make you?

budae jigae and champange.

True Story:

you lose weight once you leave college.

unless you move to New York. 

a few shots

welcome to our apartment:

Blog this. Buttons from Exposure PR's holiday party. 

I only like fine point pens. I'll use other ones. but it doesn't make me happy.

to the right of this shot there's a plate of kimchee.

on the train:

I want every Nooka watch. Ever made. Ever.

Thank You and You're Welcome

on the way home:

outside the Antenna offices.

I HATE. REALLY hate tomatoes.

welcome to my desk: 

"health" cup. it means it'll make you skinny. 

cheeks for days.

MANNNNNNN

Being Assistant Editor at Antenna, I thought I'd try and take advantage of my new title with my new signature, work my magic and get the BAPE SS10 lookbook featuring this shot:

 

and this shot:

This is the last email I got:

kanye > cudi

FAIL.

screw the yeezys

id rather have these

it's hard being a trendsetter

Nylon Mag .com says

if only you could see how many pictures we took before finally choosing this one.

AHAHAHA

What I Want Forever

What I want courtesy of Angela Koh via facebook wall posts yeaaaaaaa

hollatchagirl

:]

I am Yours, I am forever Yours

Thank You Lord for drawing me back.

Thank You Lord for Daniel Kim. 

Thank You Lord for Linette Kim and Angela Koh. 

Thank You for proving Yourself faithful. 

Always proving faithful and never growing tired of proving Yourself faithful.

Thank You Lord for not staying silent. 

Love Came Down by Brian Johnson 

If my heart is overwhelmed and I cannot hear your voice

I'll hold on to what is true though I cannot see

If the storms of life may come and the road ahead gets deep

I will lift these hands in faith, I will believe

I remind myself of all that You've done and the life I have because of Your Son

Love came down and rescued me, Love came down and set me free

I am Yours, I am forever Yours

Mountain high or valley low, I sing out remind my soul

that I am Yours, I am forever Yours

When my heart is filled with hope and every promise comes my way

When I feel Your hands of grace rest upon me

Staying desperate for You God, staying humbled at Your feet

I will lift these hands and pray, I will believe

I am Yours, I am Yours, For all my days, Jesus, I am Yours.

I am Yours I am Yours, all my days, Jesus, I am Yours.

I am Yours I am Yours, all my days, Jesus, I am Yours

I am Yours, I'm Yours forever

I am Yours, I'm Yours forever

I am Yours, I'm Yours forever, Lord

Love came down and rescued me, Love came down and set me free

I am Yours, I am forever Yours

Mountain high or valley low, I sing out remind my soul

that I am Yours, I am forever Yours

Psalm 18:16-19

¹⁶He sent from on high, He took me;
         He drew me out of many waters. 

¹⁷He delivered me from my strong enemy,
         And from those who hated me, for they were too mighty for me. 

¹⁸They confronted me in the day of my calamity,
         But the LORD was my stay. 

¹⁹He brought me forth also into a broad place;
         He rescued me, because He delighted in me. 

Thank You Lord for rescuing me. 

A Couple of Things

arrived in the mail addressed "antenna magazine for sarah kim."

cheer up present from a studdly coworker.

its been an O K day :)

i love photobooth

and so do you.

Why are You Downcast O My Soul?

I feel like I’m drowning.

I feel like I’m getting eaten alive.

I feel like I want to quit. Give up. Quitter, yea, say it if you want.

How many more twelve hour work days? Then getting in late the next day, getting reprimanded, then working another twelve hours to try and make up for it. How many more weeks til the next day off? How many more months til long Christmas vacation, unpaid Christmas vacation. How many more years of working til I can retire.

 

I feel so far from home.

I miss home.

I just want to be home.

How many hours to fly home. How many hours to drive home. How far to walk home.

A three hour time difference. Really? Are we really that far away, that our clocks read different things. I miss my mom’s smell. I miss her smell so much.

 

How many more drafts. How many more times do I need to rewrite this in order for you to like it. When is it going to sound good enough to print? Why can’t it just come easier. Why is writing so hard for me. Gosh I hope my page isn’t next to that one writers story about some one-night stand, that ish was intense and so well written. Maybe I shouldn’t have pitched anything at all.

 

How much longer must I wait.

How many more boys.

How many more stupid aim conversations. How many more drinks. How many more streetwear parties. I’m not trying to throw myself at you. It’s not cute. Or right. How many more hearts will break before it goes down. mine or his or theirs or whatever. How many more girls do I need to hear about. How many more engagements, how many more weddings. Where you at fool? Where the freak are you? I tire of listening to Brooke Fraser Love is Waiting.

 

How much longer will this discontentment reign in my heart. How much longer will this numbness turned discontent turned deep sadness covered by pleasant smiles and kind words last.

 

How much longer will You stay silent Lord. How much longer am I going to be this downcast. Why do words that hold power read like they’re empty. For chapters and chapters, for pages and pages and pages. I’ve never been this low and I don’t like it. It’s not me Lord. It’s not me. But it won’t go away. It clings, it sticks, it’s completely invading and intrusive. The only solution is to disregard. Disregard and work. Work a lot. Forget about it. Fuggedaboutit. Work sleep.

 

 

Lord. I just want to hear Your voice. Feel your touch. Stop looking to other things, for approval of mere man. I don’t want to care so much about boys. I don’t want to stress so much. I don’t want to be emo. I want to find all security, all joy, all trust in You. But I can’t right now. Help me Lord. You’re the Only One that can do it. Be pleased to change this rock of a heart Lord.

 

Psalm 18:16-19

He rescued me because He delighted in me.

 

Rescue me Lord. Save me from myself.

Welcome to California

ive been missing home so much lately.

i miss my mom. i miss my dad. i miss my sister.

i miss my friends. i miss driving. i miss cute west coast boys.

i miss people not taking everything so dang intense and crazy.

i did. i left my heart in California. for real.

what kind of idiot leaves California?

the kind that go to New York.

Happy Birthday to the Most Beautiful Woman Ever

Dear Mom,

You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my entire life. And I work in the fashion industry. I’m just saying. Your hugs, I could drown in them, melt into your arms forever. Your scent, Estée Lauder Beautiful, is appropriately named for the perfect wearer. The world could come crashing down around us and your arms would be like indestructible walls of love. I could think of no safer place to be.

You care and concern for other people, outside of yourself, outside of our family.

I can hear your tears stream and your heart break while you pray for me, for Se eun, for Dad, for your relationship with him, for your parents, for your family, for our future husbands, for our future families, for your church, for my church, for Korea, for the US, for more wisdom and grace, for more faith and love, for protection, for the leaders of this world, and for many more things I’m sure, as the Holy Spirit intercedes with groaning too deep for words.

You exemplify sacrificial love and your heart is easily moved by the things that matter in this life. But more importantly, it’s moved by the things that matter in the life to come.

Happy Birthday Mom. I hope to look as pretty as you do at 49 years young. I hope to be as wise and gentle as you are. I hope to live my life by example like you do. I hope to be the kind of mother you are to us, the kind of wife you are to Dad, and the kind of daughter you are to Grandma and Grandpa. I hope to be the kind of employee that you are in the workplace the kind of listener you are with friends, and the kind of teacher you are to children.

God’s goodness and favor is so evident in my life simply by looking at the mother He’s blessed me with. There are only two people in the world that can call you that and I have the privilege of being one of them. I love you so much. Happy Birthday to the most beautiful woman in the entire world, my Mom.

 

Your confidante,

 

sejung 

if i were on the satorialist

id wanna be her.