(500) is not enough.

Did you love it? I loved it. She's enchanting, and everything I want to be. He's a dork, but has now been added to the quirky nerds that I love list. A realistic and fresh take on modern courtship. j'adore.

ok...i've been asked to elaborate.

My Top Ten Ingredients to make a Great Movie

1. the unassumingly adorable awkward leading man.

2. an ever evolving setting (ie. NOT Castaway)

3. a story told in flashbacks, the badder the hair, the better.

4. really great wardrobe including, but not limited to, a man who can wear a casual tie with sneakers.

5. grumpy old men. this is not limited to Walter Mathau. any grumpy senior will do.

6. a rousing dance number.... ala Fame.

7. the inappropriate but ever so insightful best friends...ala Ducky of Pretty in Pink.

8. when things don't go the way you want them to.

9. integration of live action and animation.... ala Mary Poppins.

10. A phenomenal soundtrack. The one for (500) is now up there with Forrest Gump, Garden State, and Remember the Titans.

happy watching. love love love.

Perspective.

This is the jungle gym us Thailand trippers chipped in for while we were there.   Phew, they're still cute.  Bad attitude aborted. 

Ramblin Woman.

Are you there, God?  It's me, Mingni.

It seems like I tend to have a mild identity crisis every time I go home.  I get so excited at the anticipation of seeing all of these people that I like, having tea at Madeleine's, macaroni at the Elk, and a drink at Zola, having Mark cut my hair, playing in Liberty Lake, and doing all of the other things that encompassed my upbringing.  So I go, do all of those fabulous things, and then comes the rain.  Usually an entire day I spend traveling to wherever it is I am going is tainted by this lingering knot in my stomach.  Do I hate Spokane?  Why is it that I really keep leaving?  Is it really disdain for this place?  Doubt it.  Certainly isn't the people, for I can think of no other place where I possess such a concentration of humans I like.  Plus, I now have a snuggly goddaughter to love and not miss out on at all times.  If this all fell apart tomorrow, you bet your ass I would be lugging my tambourine to Kirsten's house on the North Side to hibernate for the winter.  

This weird psycho phenomenon had never been so potent as it was this last journey.  I had just come off of an enchanting trip to Thailand, spent two glorious weeks on the water with friends and family, and celebrated everlasting love at Rach's wedding.  In hindsight, I could be anywhere right now and probably feeling let down.  I'm bummed out.... and I don't wear that well.  I'm annoyed that I didn't have time to do all the things I wanted and see everyone I like.  I'm jealous of the breezy nighttime weather up there.  I've started to loathe Mexican food. I have to actively remind myself that I would be feeling differently had I chosen to take a new assignment in a new place, rather than returning for another three month stint here.  To be fair, I got over my relocation remorse in about four hours when I ran off to NYC and PHX.  However, I cannot help but admit to the fact that the thrill in McAllen is gone.  One of my favorite aspects of travel nursing thus far has been the thrill of figuring out a new place.  Scouting out the grocery stores, weaving through the highway system, finding places to hike, scouring for a local concert.  Meh, I've done all of those things here.  I'm over it.  I need a life coach to follow me around and constantly spit affirmations of perspective in my face, like:

"It's only three months"

"This job is ideal"

"There are people without jobs at all"

"You ARE close to the beach"

......."GET OVER YOURSELF, PRINCESS."

Am I really so habitat-ADD  that I'm over a new place after a mere two months?!  Doctor, doctor,  gimme the news.... I got a bad case of ants in my pants.  

I promise, I do love this life.  Nothing exhilarates me more than new faces and places, and I'll probably be over this in like, half an hour.  I just should have known better than to think I'm mature enough to stay still for a minute.  

Note to self:  subpar levels of assignment enthusiasm conjure remorse over leaving home. Yikes. I'm pathetic. 

URGENT.

Go get this book.  Lock yourself in a corner of your choosing, and devour it.  My lovely Mrs Byrd (see below!) included this read in my bridesmaid gift.  I carried it around all day on Monday through my travels before opening it in Houston (at the Bushport, as I like to call it) to just skim the first page.  I ended up swallowing it whole in two hours.  In fact, so moved was I that the lady next to me had to ask what I was reading, because she couldn't ignore the tears streaming down my face.  Pathetic, I know!  Don't even call me to ask me to mail you my copy.  You can't have it.  I need to have mine so that I can reread, highlight, and memorize certain lines.  I want you to experience it as I did, with no expectations, so I won't tell you much about it.  But I will tell you this: if more people lived and thought like this man, our lives would rock so much harder.  

She's Like a Byrd

Last weekend, one of my best friends Rachael got married to Andy Byrd in Chelan, WA.  For those of you who don't know, Rach is one of my favorite friends, and definitely one of the inner circle.  Eek.  Adulthood is creeping in on me!  I was pretty thrilled to get to play bridesmaid and have VIP access to this event.  It was a superfun weekend filled with water, small town dive bars, and quirky family dynamics.  Although I did not give a toast at the reception, I totally think I should have.  I might have said this:

 "With Rachael and I, it was definitely love at first sight.  We were sophomores at GU and living across the hall from each other.  We had both gone to small private high schools, we both liked to have dance parties in the dorm, and we both think racial jokes are funny.  She likes to act asian, I pretty much act white.  But more than these similarities, we also shared a similar outlook on love and relationships.  We were young, charismatic independent women, damn it.  While the idea of twitterpation and dinner-for-two is appealing, we were just as happy being single and free.  .....but then they came.  The boys in Rachael's life took over and I teased her incessantly about how she had gone soft.  I might have even used the word 'pathetic'.  Then she found Andy and declared him the One..... and I had a seizure.  But the truth of the matter is this: as much as I might roll my eyes and gag at their goofy love, if I could find a love so giving and committed..... well, I guess that would be okay."

Congratulations Rachael and Andy! 

Byrd wedding pictures