Archive for March, 2009

“What Happens in Vegas STAYS in Vegas.”

But there are some things unseen that we will take home, and some changes undefined that will eventually have to be made.

I was happy to get to know some people even more and build stronger bonds.  I loved laughing and dancing with my friends.  My feet hurt, hurt, hurt!  But oh-so-worth-it!

There are some things that were too fun to stay in Vegas.  I am grateful for:

  • the pillow talks and girl talk with non-girls, especially with AJB, RS & EV <3.
  • JJC gets a special ❤ 2 ❤ moment with me on the couches staring out at the amazing view of the strip
  • home-made foot spas with EV –> not so much the crashing in by RS–> and no, I don’t appreciate rice and crackers sprinkled at me as a way of “feeding me” either. LoL!
  • Hot, loaded guys in XS who talk pretty and make me smile…then invite me to go snowboarding in the winter and going out on the lake in Tahoe in the summer –> magic words for a girl like me =)
  • “Are you giving me drugs?!?!” –> best quote from a guy ever! Hahaha!
  • Learning who is a spooner and a spoonee –> who is the giver here?
  • Lounging by the pool and watching a social experiment unfold before my very eyes, thanks, AJB, that was entertaining.
  • the massage train in the jacuzzi
  • Just Dance!
  • TL saying, “Isabelle, I’m gonna make sure you have fun tonight!”
  • TL asking, “Isabelle, are you having fun yet?”
  • TL asking, “How about now?  Having fun?”
  • TL saying, “Izzy, we’re having fun!”
  • TL saying, “Izzy, you’re so fun!” Picks me up and spins ’round right ’round on the dance floor.
  • SIH with his blingin’ Persian-mafia-this-is-how-i-roll-in-Vegas shirt that put us all girls to shame!
  • roastbeef sandwiches with delish horseradish mmmmm….
  • japanese-brazilian-peruvian dinner…MMM…
  • SH saying, “I judge people by their dancing, and I think we can be cool!”
  • the 17-hour long buzzzzzz — mission accomplished.
  • not losing any $$$
  • dancing with PD, fun times, fun times
  • wingwomanning – is that even a word? It is now.  Take that, Goose!
  • feeling the breeze with KO
  • long drives up and home with KO, and making fun of my crankiness from my hunger, and talking about everything and anything
  • hella random “would you rather” questions from JJC!
  • “Would you rather gallop everywhere instead of walking, or say “eeeeehhhh” at the end of every sentence?”
  • “Would you rather go thirsty or go hungry?” ME: “Go hungry.”  KO: “Do you see yourself when you’re hungry?  I think you should go thirsty.”  Hahahaha!


I love all my girls!

I had my FIRST EVER hangover at 3 PM on a Saturday afternoon in Las Vegas.  How inordinately appropriate.  I have to thank AJB for picking me off the bed when my heart rate was skyrocketing and forcing me to hydrate and feed myself.  It was the only way I survived to the next level of Vegas adventure.

I’m definitely down to go back…but do more pool partying, show-watching and strip walking…No, not that kind of strip walking.

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The Camera

I ache.

In every bit of of the broken pieces of my heart.

I took out the camera tonight because I knew I only had enough memory in it for a few more pictures.  It’s my friend’s birthday this weekend, and we are planning on going to Vegas with a few of the closest buddies.  I wanted to make room in my memory for that.

Which means, I have to erase over 90 pictures of US.

I guess in the end, you start thinking about the beginning.

Looking back…man, we were so happy.  Not just the smile-for-the-camera kind of happy, but really, really God-I-can’t-believe-I’ve-got-you kind of happy.

How did we lose that?  How did big smiles like sunshine become brittle and eventually shatter?  I will walk away from this relationship always wondering what happened, never really being able to put a finger on it.

In those dark moments when I will allow myself to tap back into that part of me where I locked away all the hopes and dreams I had for this relationship…I will always ask myself why? and I will never really get an answer.

All I have are these pictures of shiny happy memories and an end that somehow never really fit with the beginning.

“I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken — and I’d rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.”

-Margaret Mitchell-

While deleting pictures, I never thought twice about deleting everything else…BUT HIM.  But Us.  I still can’t let go.  I look at those pictures, I remember his face, his eyes, his smile…I remember the quirks, the expressions, the little spots I used to run a finger across: an eyebrow, his nose, an earlobe.

And I know that I can’t ever piece back the broken pieces, just remember the moments when my heart was still whole.

And yet, when I fall so low I wish that I could just forget.  I wish I could cast a spell and erase those memories because they hurt.  I want to tear photographs to pieces and shatter picture frames, I want to press delete forever…I wish it were all just a dream and I can pretend none of it was ever real…that none of it ever really mattered in my life.  Then maybe my life as it is now won’t feel so empty.

Better to have met you in my dream than to wake and reach for hands that are not there.


i miss u

i miss u



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One thing about going home…

are the home cooked goodies

that just can’t get any better from anywhere else.





i don't even know what it's called in english, but it's damn gooooood...


bbq short ribs

mango flan

can never get enough.

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Lately, I feel like my life is a series of scattered thoughts and images and experiences.  I have always been good at compartmentalizing my life for damage control.  It’s basically just a coping mechanism that I’ve learned growing up where damage in one aspect of my life is kept within that part so as not to seep into what is good in other parts of my life.

Love. School. Family. Friends. Work. Writing. Hobbies.

Sometimes, I feel like I’m so many different people all at once.

This Break Up has been the first one since the death of my father that has really scattered the sense of order and control of my life.  I’m a forward-looking person. I often leave the past behind in the dust. I very rarely ever look back, especially at the acutely painful parts of my past.  Having compartments in my emotions and goals and dealings make everything easier: shed one, and the others stay in place.

But this Break Up has really made everything merge…and I realize it was because He had permeated every compartment in my life.  He had touched me as a whole person, not just some small piece of me that I allowed him to.  I think it’s why I was so devastated when He left.

So now, I have a series of scattered thoughts that flit through my mind and in some ways comes back to this realization.


Yellow is one of my favorite colors.  I don’t usually wear it often because my sense of style runs towards neutral colors like blacks, browns, grays and creams.  But Yellow has a special spot in my heart.  It’s a cheerful color and I love the way the color makes me feel.  I noticed I started gravitating towards that color in the last few days.  Yellow dress. Yellow sleepwear. Yellow bedspread. And now that I’m back home at my mom’s house, I’m also back in my Yellow room.

Yellow…cheer me up.


I’m back in Norcal for the weekend.  I remember talking to my mom on the phone one night.  She had the most inopportune timing so as to call when I was in the middle of one of the melancholic moods and was crying.  Moms have the special ability to hear tears in someone’s voice even when you’re trying very hard to filter it out.  By the end of the conversation, I was crying and saying I wanted to go home.  She bought me my tickets and now I’m here.

It’s funny that I’m home now.

When I was moving out to Los Angeles, I could not wait to get out of here.  Now, the person who had made Los Angeles feel like home is gone, and for now…I feel like a stranger where I live.  So I ran away…home.


I come from a very…unemotional family.  We don’t talk about our feelings and our problems.  When we have problems, we don’t say we have problems, we say something along the lines of “I’m thinking about doing this so that this does not happen…”  Discussion ensues.  We also look at everything in a very analytical and almost unfeeling way.  I’ve only ever seen my mom cry maybe five times in my life.  One was at my father’s death. The other when we were fighting about my spiral downward into destructiveness shortly after my father’s death.  Another time, she cried when I broke down about how much I hated living in the United States in the first year since we moved to the country.  There aren’t very many other occassions for her tears.

I’ve never seen my grandmother cry.

I always secretly thought it was because she grew up in a war-torn country — in the generation of World War II where tears were a luxury and survival was key.

Sometimes, I think that when I compare my life to theirs, I’m such a wuss.

This Break Up was the first time I ever tried talking to my mom about something emotional.  My last break-up before This one ended a five year relationship…and all my mom had asked was, “Are you okay?”  Naturally, I replied, “I’m fine.”

This time, she tried to tell me that life has ups and downs.  I have to be strong.  She knows I will be sad for a while…etc…  I remember thinking…What is going on?!?! I don’t even know how to reply to that.  This is my mom, I don’t talk to my mom! But I’m glad she was there.

And my grandma, she gave me a hug when she saw me and made me all my favorite meals.

Sometimes, when I see what my mom and grandma have survived, I feel like such a wuss.


I’ve lost about 5 pounds in the last week.  It fluctuates between 7 to 4 pounds, so I figure, I say I’d lost 5 pounds. It’s like the hot new diet.  I haven’t really eaten anything substantial since the Break Up.  I let hunger pass because the thought of food just makes me gag. It’s almost like I can’t be bothered with the effort to eat.

That’s pretty freaking weird coming from me.  I’m the Queen of Eat All You Can Buffets, and the I must eat every two hours diet.

But the moment food touches my mouth, it tastes like ash.  I eat a couple bites, and I reject the rest.  When I get home, I usually just want to lock myself up in my room and let emotions wash over me because I’ve spent the whole day holding them in.  After that, I just don’t have the energy to make food for myself.  My brother once said it best, “Sometimes, it’s just easier to starve.”

But I gotta say, being back home and with my grandma making my fave meals, I gotta try eating.  I ate a whole lot more today…but spent the whole day battling stomachaches.  Brother thinks it’s cuz I’ve stretched my stomach lining.  Or maybe it’s just dairy.  *Grins*


Went on a Girls Night with my friends.  Tried to be hot.  Went dancing.  FINALLY danced to Lady Gaga’s “Just Dance” with my girls.  Got shitfaced with a few shots.  More dancing.  Boys, boys, boys everywhere and not one of them was the one I wanted.  Boys tried to dance with me.  I felt creepy crawly.  Not the hands I want.  I cried at club.  Must go home.  JJC thanks for being there in the bathroom. LoL. EV, thanks for the ride. AT for coming in at 3 in the morning and telling me you love me.  I love all of you.

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Decisions, Decisions

My first choice of small firms just contacted me for an interview…ONLY two months later. Hah!

So, now…I’m kind of torn about jobs…again.

The Pros of going for #1 choice are:

  • They focus on Real Estate Law and Corporate Law.
  • The founder has the same educational background as I do (UC Berkeley & Loyola Law)
  • Locations: El Segundo (supposedly one of the safest neighborhoods around) & they also have offices in San Francisco

The Cons of going for it are:

  • I already work somewhere else.
  • I’d have to start over somewhat.
  • They also do Employment Law which I’m not interested in at all.
  • The founder might not be as nice as my current boss.

The place that I currently work in is in Pasadena and it’s also a beautiful and safe city. My boss is great and he gives credit where it’s due. I’m beginning to really like my co-workers and the other associate lawyers. I’ve also started considering doing some Family Law practice…

Anywho, I still set a time for an interview and other factors will come to light.

As for now, I thought it was ironic that on the day I come to work feeling like I’m really beginning to get into the groove at my job, I open an e-mail from #1 choice inviting me for an interview.

Oh Life. How you mess with me.

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John Mayer really captured it all.

No matter how great or determined or peaceful my thoughts about the Break Up are the night before, the moment I wake up in the morning, I just ache inside.  It’s like the silence, the semi-darkness of dawn, and cold on his side of the bed are physical manifestations of the grief in my heart.  The whole world feels empty and lonely in that moment, and it is almost impossible to will myself to get up and out of bed and start a day knowing he won’t be a part of it.

I actually had this thought in my head this morning:

I wish I could just die now and sleep forever…that way I wouldn’t have to wake up to this anymore.

It was a sad and sobering thought.

But I got out of bed and moved on with my day.  The echo of grief and emptiness in my heart stays with me all day, but it gets quieter as the day goes by, until I am in a pretend-better state right before I go to bed.

And then, I’ll have to wake up again.

I know this will not last forever, but for now waking up to a day without him, is still the darkest part.

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I’m broken right now and my vision of the future has been shattered.

But I’m still a dreamer and I still want to believe in Fairy Tales.

Even more, I still believe in Love.

A Better Greater Love.

there is always hope…

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Yesterday, I was trying to psych myself into moving forward and moving on from the Break-Up.

This morning, I woke up at 5:30 in the morning in tears.  I had another one of those dreams that have been haunting me.  He’s in it and it’s always just a kaleidescope of emotions until I wake up, gasping for breath, crying because my heart is breaking.  I have had these dreams sporadically before, whenever he and I had a big fight.  But ever since the Break Up, it’s been every night.

Yesterday, I had gone to sleep at a much better, more determined, state of mind.

And yet, I still woke up crying and reaching for his side of the bed.

Why doesn’t our psyche just ever let go?  I hate that he creeps into everything that I think and feel and do.

I fell back asleep at around 7 am and woke up to the sun shining so brightly that the rays managed to furiously break through the cracks in my blinds.  I smiled because sunshine does that to me.  And then I thought about Him…and then I cried.  And instead of seeing the sunshine, I only saw the shadows that it cast around me.

I dragged myself out of bed and got ready for my shower.  I cried because I used Head n Shoulders and He used to like the way it smells.  I heard Love Lockdown by Kanye and I wanted to knock his baby face down.  I chose an outfit and looked at myself in the mirror and remembered that I had bought this specific shirt because I knew he would love the way it showed off my neck and shoulders.

I fell to my knees on the floor in my bathroom suddenly realizing that getting over Him was going to take more than psyching myself out and motivating myself.

It was going to have to take replacing old memories with new ones.

I was going to have to really REALLY accept that it’s okay for me to make new memories and forget him.  I’m having the hardest time with this concept.  But it’s only because I’m stubborn…or maybe it’s because I’m just a masochist.

I have lots of beautiful friends and family who are here for me.  They are giving me avenues to drown my sorrows in lots of joys.  I have Law School to drive me insane with the sheer amount of reading that I have to do.  I could very easily bury myself in paper.  I also have work where I am constantly on the move and challenged that I don’t even have time to eat lunch most days.

I have so many things to distract me from the darkness.  But what happens when the darkness is inside?  How do I crawl out of that?  It has to start with me…and it comes right back to the underlying issue…

I’m just not ready…

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Baby steps.

I’m generally an impatient perfectionist–a combination not necessarily good for my nerves or for the people around me. In essence, I like to get things done right–the first time. It doesn’t always happen which leads me to be frustrated or be more challenged.

But when I face a problem, I usually tackle it full on.

I get annoyed that it’s eve a problem in the first place. Like, how dare you stand in my way you, stupid problem, you!

Unfortunately, healing my broken heart…doesn’t happen over night. I can’t just look it in the eye and growl my most ferocious growl at it and make it back down. I can’t just read a manual and patch up my heart the very next day.

Oh, God, I wish I could.

Today, I hurt myself more by making a small step backward. I realized then and there that it hurt us both when I don’t do anything to move forward. I love him so much it killed me to have made things harder.

I spent the rest of the day thinking of what I had to do to lift my chin up and start glancing at the future again. My head has been hanging low, so defeated, so lost, and so NOT me for the last few months now. I think the best thing I can do for both of us, and especially for myself, is to take those baby steps.

When you’re a baby, damn did that huge giganormous head feel heavy. Ever seen a baby try to lift his head? Yeah, that’s how I feel right now. But within a few months, the kid is rolling over and crawling and eventually making steps forward.

That’s what I wanna do.

I’ve been beaten, lost, reduced to my knees and shoved to the ground by my life lately. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror anymore and say that I’m the person I always imagined I would be. When I look at the mirror, there are ghosts in my eyes. When I sleep at night, I wake up every few hours with tears in my eyes from dreams of my broken heart.

I’m tired of looking puffy. Of carrying this much sorrow in my heart. Of accepting this defeat by love. Of being unworthy of being loved again. Of being unable to love again. I am GOING TO GET UP, DAMMIT!

As much as I am cheering myself up right now, right this minute…it’s just the first step. Psyching myself up. I still feel like a fragile shell that shatters at the end of the day.

It’s been five days since the big Break Up…and I still cry in the car after a long day at work, just thanking God for the long commute so I can have my break-down time. It takes a lot of energy to smile at clients and be sympathetic to their broken relationships and their financial states. In this economy, everyone’s got something to cry about. Where I work, all I ever see are problems and people come to us for solutions or to defend them. At times it’s exhausting to have so many different personalities and problems thrown at me in 9 hours. So by the time I clock out and get to my car in the garage…I’m shaking and ready to shatter.

At school, there are so many people who push me to be happy, so eager to be the one to cheer me up, or to give me the advice or the wisdom, or to console me about how right the decision was…and I love my friends for doing that. But sometimes, I really am not ready and it only frays me more to pretend so hard to smile and laugh along with them. By the end of my last class at 8pm at night, I can only rush to my room and crash onto my bed in tears.

I need to change that.

Maybe not right away. It’s not like I’m just gonna stop grieving about the end of my first Great Love in five days. No…it’s about baby steps and paving the way. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself.

So…I’m planning events with friends.

I want to Just Dance again.

I want to some day do Martial Arts again.

And I want to try something new and challenging.

I signed up for a 5K…which for many people, isn’t really all that big of a deal. But for those who know me, they know how much I hate running. But this 5K…I’m doing it for me…and for the relationship I used to have with a man who used to love to run. I’m doing it to cherish the differences we used to have.

Plus, my friend JP said that I would have the most rockin’ toned body ever if I stuck with it.

And finally…I’m gonna learn to forgive myself. This will be one of the two hardest parts of moving forward. I have to learn to forgive myself for my part in the Break Up. I have to be able to say that I did my best and that I loved him with everything I had. I have to forgive myself for having hurt him so bad that he had walk away from what we had.

And I have to accept that it’s really over. This is part two of the Hardest Parts of the healing process. I have to. Have to. HAVE TO.

And still…

Baby steps. A little everyday. Baby. Steps.

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I know this was supposed to be a happy moments blog.

But it’s been hard. Harder than the last few months. Boyfriend…well, we broke up, so he isn’t my boyfriend anymore.

I have never had my heart broken this much. I have never given so much of myself into a relationship only to come up empty-handed. Needless to say, I’m drowning in darkness and it’s been very, very hard to see the light. It’s like seeing everything through tunnel vision without my glasses.

So far, all I’m seeing is darkness, and the only things I see clearly are those that are right in front of me. And even that is still hard.

My friend, IC, has been coaxing me to have fun and to plan fun things to do. My roommate has been supportive and has tried to invite me to things that would take my mind off of the darkness closing in. I’m also thankful that she doesn’t push too hard and let’s me have the space to find my own way out.

I still can’t really say it out loud.

It doesn’t feel real. But the way I feel inside is pretty damn real.

The details of the break up are not mine to tell. I still love him very, very much. But we agreed that this decision to go our separate ways was the right thing to do. It was the rational and logical decision. Unfortunately, my heart is rejecting the idea.

Every time I have a second in my busy schedule, I suffer from SBT (sudden bursts of tears). I’ve had to pull the “I-have-severe-allergies” line a couple times. The thought of “us” being over is paralyzing: it’s hard to breathe, my stomach heaves, my throat has a lump and it’s an entire visceral reaction.

And thinking about the future is almost impossible. It was like a rug was pulled from right under my life and I just have to start over. It’s scary, it’s daunting, and it’s painful.

I think for me, the most painful part is to let go of everything. He wasn’t my first love. He was my first Great Love. I suppose on the other side of that coin is Great Despair. And in the end, I have to learn to pay the price.

One day, I will find my way out of this darkness. For now, there is a bit of comfort in not being able to see what the future holds. There is still a lot of pain in looking ahead and knowing he won’t be there.

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