Scene: Stadium Lights and a Thunderstorm

My dad and I drove seven hours up the coast from LA to SF on Sunday, during which time: he gave me advice on making friends in a new city (maybe I should actually go out on Fridays?), we bought buckets of drive-through soda to stave off the 110° heat, and I found out that my dad can rap the first full three minutes the old-school funk classic, “Rapper’s Delight.”

We made the drive so that my dad could visit me, and so that we could cap off the summer by watching the LA Dodgers play the San Francisco Giants. It was more than a game — the victor of this match would settle, at least for a night, the grave and virulent debate of which is the superior half of California.

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A Bouquet of Freshly Sharpened Pencils

Photo by Andrew Preble on Unsplash

I love September.

It’s more of a beginning-of-the-year for me than January is. School supplies, the elegant transition to fall, cinnamon and persimmons. (As Tom Hanks’s character in You’ve Got Mail marvels: “Don’t you love New York in the fall? It makes me want to buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address.”)

Septembers are studious and ripe with renewed possibility.

Of course, I probably feel this way because up until this point in my life, my goals have revolved around the school year: get good grades, read a gajillion books, learn a ton.

And for the first time, I don’t have a school to go back to this year. I get to read, learn, and strive for whatever I decide. How appropriate that a new blog, and a slew of new projects I hope to share with you soon, has been born in September.

So welcome to my blog! Here’s to a month of creating new things and asking daring questions.

What are your thoughts on September? If you’re a new post-grad, how do you feel about this moment?

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Reading Diversely is an Act of Resistance

There is little I can say about Charlottesville, and the events that have unfolded since, that hasn’t already been said more eloquently, by wiser people than me. When a mob of white supremacists attempt to negate the human life and dignity of entire populations, and when people in power condone hatefulness, it’s hard not to let the waves sorrow, anger, hopelessness, and disillusionment erode you.

You shouldn’t stop yourself from feeling whatever it is you’re feeling. But when you’re ready, there are small steps you can take to heal and resist. And one of the most meaningful ways to resist is to read books by diverse authors.

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On Blog/Life Disparity

Confession: I stopped updating the blog for two full weeks while my boyfriend was visiting me. (You haven’t noticed because the blog hasn’t launched yet.) I decided that since this was the last time he and I would see each other for a while, I wanted to spend my time with him fully and with a degree of privacy.

So there’s a lacuna on the blog where 2 extremely eventful weeks of life had been – which brings me to reflect on the blog/life disparity.

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Bay Area Bucket List

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Not to perpetuate a stereotype or anything, but summers growing up in Southern California were amazing. With the ocean a quick drive away and warm nights in Los Angeles, there was always a wealth of fun, carpe diem-y things to do. Summer was a sparkler – bright, ardent, and fading fast.

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Mochi in the Morning

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There is no bliss like fresh mochi.

Growing up, I would associate the gooey balls of sweet rice paste with trips to the Asian supermarket with my mom. We almost always chose Daifuku, or mochi with a sweet red bean paste filling. It was the tasty, sticky snack at the end of a family errand. So it seems appropriate that it was my mom (through impressive Internet-sifting) who found out about the Benkyodo Company.

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New City, New Story

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Loads of people on the Internet have more informed opinions on lip gloss and trends. I highly recommend checking them out. I’m still scrabbling for wisdom myself, so I’m really not in a position to impart any.

What you might get out of this blog is an exciting, impressionistic portrait of one person’s embarkation into a new city and post-grad life. This is where I’m documenting newness of moments before they pass.

Like this stage in my life, La Pia en Rose is bright and inchoate. It is, at least, a promise to myself to savor time, write more, and in doing so understand more. Maybe, at its grandest, this blog can be an act of love.

By way of this blog, I hope to generate new experiences, perspectives, pieces of text, and sending creativity into the world like messages in bottles.

Maybe they’ll wash onto your shore. Maybe you’ll even enjoy them.

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