My one wish for our third year anniversary: to re-take our engagement photos. What a nightmare that was! We ordered one picture out of dozens of pictures that were cheesy cheesy cheesy. And it was pretty bad when I first got the one picture we ordered. I had told the photographer to get rid of the bags under Danny's eyes. But she got rid of part of Danny's eyes! And the amazing thing is, she didn't notice that it looked funny. She probably thought, "Oh, he's Asian. His eyes are supposed to look that chinky." I was horrified when I saw it, and demanded that she get it right. Anyways, long story short, the one picture that we got was not even a good one. My mom took one look at it, and said, "Throw it away. You look ugly." To this day, I have no idea where that one picture is. I must have listened to her and thrown it away.

So my dream is to have wonderful engagement photos. Perhaps we're walking casually along the beach. Perhaps we're in formal attire and gazing into each other's eyes. Perhaps we're standing side-by-side looking pensively into the distance. But the thing is, we won't have that fresh, naive "wow, I'm getting married!" look. Oh well. Can't have everything.

I see other friends' beautiful engagement photos, and I get so sad. I love pictures; they are very important to me. And although chronology is important (ask Danny about what happened when I was organizing my college photo albums, and I accidentally missed a photo from my sophomore year, while I was on my junior year), I'm willing to call these pictures our "engagement" pictures. It's just easier to explain than saying that they're my third-year-anniversary-re-take-photos-of-engagement-pictures-because-they-were-so-
ugly-pictures.

Today, as in most other days these days, I found myself wanting to have someone permanent to talk to while I drive home.

I pretty much call about five or six people on the way home from work, alternating days based on mood, their schedules, and availability. Sometimes it's Karen, who is a mother of a newborn, so her time is mostly determined by her child's needs. I have to catch her when he's napping, or when Seong is feeding him.

I call my mom when I want to discuss what I want to make for dinner or when I want to brag about something or when I want to receive endless support.

I call Danny just to say hello. Literally. Sometimes I'll say "hi" and then say "ok, bye." Mostly we discuss functional things, such as what we're doing for dinner, etc.

Then sometimes I'll call one of my brothers, just because they're my family. I want to know what's going on in their lives. Usually my little brother has much to say (about business, school, finance, Dodgers, etc.). We share some good laughs.

My older brother pretty much has nothing to say. I pretty much talk the whole time, and ask him a bunch of questions, just to receive one-word answers. "Are you at work?" "Yes." "Do you like your job?" "Yes." "What are you eating for dinner?" "Tacos." "Anything exciting happening?" "Nah." He downplays everything that happens in his life. So if he spends more than a sentence on one subject, I listen intently to try and gather the full experience of the words. "So have you met anyone?" "No. Just this girl. We emailed and talked on the phone a couple of times. It's nothing." Woa! Hm. What does that mean??? If it's really nothing, why would he spend FOUR sentences talking about it?? Who knows? He's a mystery wrapped in an enigma.

So I guess what I'm saying is that I wish I had some permanent figure in my car that would love to listen to all of the things I have to say, and talk back to me in an all-encompassing, deeply satisfying way.

Don't get me wrong. I have great friends, a great mom, a wonderful husband. I can't ask for anything else! But I guess I have a deeper need. Perhaps we all have a deeper need? One that can not be met by any one person. I need God. I want to communicate with God. He is my permanent conversation partner! Yes, basically that's what it boils down to. I want to pray more. I want to be heard. I want God to speak to me.

Danny and I watched "Meet the Fockers" the other night. Hilarious, but not as hilarious as "Meet the Parents." Don't you just love the scene where the Owens guy is asking Ben Stiller about his portfolio, and he has no idea what to say, and then later on the Owens guy says something about Jesus, and how he was a carpenter. I'm smiling right now thinking about that scene. Love it!

Anyways, the father in both movies talks about the "inner circle." The "inner circle" is a chosen few to whom all is shared and revealed. The "inner circle" is a group of people you can trust. I guess I've been dealing with this notion of an inner circle lately. Who is in my inner circle? My family? My smallgroup? My best friend? My friends from church? My good friends from college? My in-laws? My husband's friends? My high school friends? My co-workers? I guess to some extent, I've just considered everyone aforementioned to be a significant part of my life, and therefore, part of my inner circle. I guess you can say that my inner circle was a pretty big circle. We're talkin' a huge circumference. So huge that one might say you can't call it "inner" anymore. Some might look at my inner circle and call it an "outer circle."

I think this can cause some problems. As much as I'd like to think I have a big and generous heart, I think deep down, I'm just a selfish schmoe. If I give out love, I want to receive love. If I make an effort with someone relationally, I want relationship back. If someone in my inner circle doesn't give me what I need or want in return for what I've given them, then I get my feelings hurt. I guess I have to be aware of people whom I consider to be in my inner circle, but they might not necessarily see me as part of their inner circle. Or perhaps I got kicked outside of their inner circle without even knowing it. Either way, I need to be okay with that.

So, now you're thinking, "Did I do something to anger Jieun so that I am not in Jieun's inner circle anymore?" Or perhaps you're thinking, "Eh, Jieun was never in my inner circle, so why should I care if I am or am not in her inner circle?" Let's just say I'm going through something that is making me think of this, and then watching "Meet the Fockers" got me to thinking.

Don't get me wrong. I like that I am an "outer circle" kind of person. I like that I am the kind of person that stretches her inner circle wide open to welcome even strangers to join and feel included. It's the hostess in me. But perhaps there's wisdom in tightening it up a bit, so that the circle isn't so flimsy and breakable. Perhaps there's wisdom in knowing my limitations as a selfish human being. If I give, and don't get, I should either be okay with it because that's what Christ's love is all about, or stop trying to give so desperately, so that perchance they'll throw me a bone.

Nicknames I have had...

Jenu (jen - NEW): This is what my brothers sometimes called me when we would just be hanging out. I think it came out of all the funny ways that non-Koreans have pronounced my name, and this nickname kind of came out of a conglomeration of all of them.

G: Certain friends of mine will sometimes call me this. Not sure why. I suspect it's out of laziness. The extra syllable takes a little more work, so why not stop at G. Sounds snazzy and hip hop.

jiji: For some reason, at work, both at Menlo School and Hillbrook School, my co-workers have come up with this name all on their own. It is playful, sexy, and sophisticated at the same time. But if you say it with a certain emphasis, it can also mean "dirty gross stuff" in Korean.

Chej: This one was birthed spontaneously by my friend Miriam. Since my name is now Chai Jieun, "chej" is a shortened version of that. It just kind of rolled out and stuck. It has a charming quality about it that I really like.

I'm not naturally a nickname person. When I choose email names, it's always boring jieunchai, jchai, or my favorite: jieungracechai. None of this dcfly business, or any of the other cutesy things people use to represent themselves. Maybe I'm just boring. I like my name, and I just stick to it. But I do enjoy when other people invent things for me, cuz then I feel cool enough.

This post is dedicated to my friend Connie, whom I miss and whom I wish well as she is all the way out there in DC.

Yes, the first part of the first year of marriage is a HUGE life transition period. Can I just say? Reading your entry about Bed, Bath, and Beyond... reminded me of my excursions to Target and Macy's. They were my best friends and worst enemies the first three months of settling down. So many things to return, and so many things to buy. I wish someone had told me to register for a pizza stone and fine china and bathroom shower curtains and stand mixer. But who knew? I didn't know how to cook, so how am I supposed to know what things to register for in the kitchen? I didn't know until the week before my wedding what my bathroom might look like, so how am I supposed to take the time and figure out what the bath supplies should be?

Oh, and the long lines at DMV and Social Security. HOW MANY MEN HAD TO GO THROUGH THAT? Tell me. I don't know many husbands who actually went with their wives to these places to go through the life-altering processes together. I think it took me about a year and a half to change my name for all credit cards, airline cards (which you have to send in writing!), library cards, etc. Changing my name was a traumatic experience. I mean, I got used to it quick enough, but still, it was an identity change. For Danny, he just enjoyed seeing me sign my name as "Jieun Chai," and not "Jieun Park." It gave him a warm tingle inside. How great for him.

Since Danny had better credit limits, etc., when we merged all of our financial accounts, I had to learn all of Danny's passwords and secret codes to access accounts online. So I sat there and started memorizing.

I'm not sure if Danny went through any agonizing, traumatic, life-altering changes when he got married. I bore the burden for us both.

Hey, but I'm not bitter. :) Looking back, the "transition" period only lasted about three months for me. But I was lucky to have found a church community that helped me transition. It was hard to start anew because BayLight people only knew me as Jieun Chai, and I didn't feel like that was the complete JIEUN. There was more to the package than just Jieun Chai. I was a Park for about 24 years! But they didn't even know that Jieun Park had existed. So I had to carve out a new identity as Jieun Chai. It was difficult, but I pushed through.

So Connie, I feel you, sister. I would have called you, but I don't know that you have a cell phone yet! So I'm communicating to you through my webpage. Hopefully you'll see it soon. The whole "leave and cleave" thing is a healthy and biblical thing to do, and I'm glad that you're taking things in stride.

I miss my mom. I talk to her almost every day, except when she's out of the country. She's been in Korea for about a month now, and I feel like an eagle with a clipped wing, not able to soar, directionless.

You see, whenever I need a perspective on a life situation, I call her and ask her what she thinks. In the past, she has given me advice such as: cast your burdens upon Jesus, be patient with those who are different from you, and take care of your health first.

When I have failed at something, such as making an error on my taxes, I call my mother and she simply listens, saying "Everyone makes mistakes and fails." That's the type of encouragement I need to get me started again.

When I don't know what to make for dinner, I call my mom and say, "I don't know what to make for dinner." She gives me some suggestions, and always tells me that I'm a great cook, even if she's never really tasted my cooking. That gives me strength to get dinner started.

All in all, my mom is the greatest. I hope that I become a great mother someday.

Exciting things are happening this week.

Danny is turning 29.
My friend Connie is getting married.
I get to see my best friend's baby for the first time.
My brother is starting his job with the San Diego Padres.
And I'm going on a field trip tomorrow to the San Jose Mercury News headquarters.

I don't know which one I should be the most excited about!

This is the eighth time I'm celebrating Danny's birthday, the first one being just as friends, the next three as my boyfriend, the fourth as my fiance, and the last three (including this week's) as my husband.

When it comes to birthdays, Danny is the exact opposite as me in terms of how they should be celebrated. He likes a quiet dinner for the two of us in a fancy schmancy restaurant that has gotten great reviews from Zagat. One small gift would suffice. I like medium big gatherings of friends at loud restaurants that don't necessarily have good food, but good ambience. The more gifts, the better! Every year, I want to plan a big or medium party and have people come over our place to celebrate Danny's birth. But every year I stop and remember that it's not all about me. Then I ask to make sure that his personality hasn't changed, and sure enough, he still just wants to have a quiet dinner at a nice restaurant. That's my Danny.

During dinner Danny said to me, "You read a lot!" Then he proceeded to rattle off the names of the books that I have read recently. I was quite amazed at myself. Even a year ago, you wouldn't have called me a reader or a lover of books. But last year around this time, I picked up a book that got me starting to read again: The DaVinci Code. And it came at a perfect time because we went to Paris and London for my spring break last year.

I stopped reading for pleasure after about the sixth grade. I only read for school. Throughout junior high, high school, and college, we were required to read great works of literature. Don't get me wrong. I enjoyed reading The Catcher in the Rye and Of Mice and Men. I remember the tears I shed at the end of Where the Red Fern Grows. I had a good time reading all the required books during my education.

The problem came when my formal education stopped. So did my reading. I did not know how to read for pleasure. I knew this was a problem, but I did not address it because I did not have time. I just shied away from conversations when people talked about books, just like I do when people talk about politics.

But since The DaVinci Code, I decided to change this problem of mine. It's not that The DaVinci Code was a particularly GREAT book. It's just been so long that I had gotten into a book of my choice. The last one had been Sweet Valley Twins, the one where they had a secret language called ithig. I was so fascinated by the language that I started speaking it with my friend, and we would have this secret code of communication.

Anyways, I asked my co-workers to recommend me some books, and over the past year, here are some books I have devoured for pleasure (at the request of other people):

-The Secret Life of Bees (librarian at my school)
-Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim (Danny)
-Tess of the D'Urbervilles (Miriam)
-Kitchen Confidential (Danny)
-Interpreter of Maladies (several sources have told me I should read this)
-A Good Scent from a Strange Mountain (my friend from grad school Mary)
-The Kite Runner (co-worker Jimmye)

I just finished reading The Kite Runner today, and I'm going through book withdrawal. I'm so sad that the journey is over. I feel like I'll never find another book that I'll like. I feel like this every time I finish a book. Extremely proud that I accomplished something, yet extremely sad that the story had to end. Anybody recommend another book?

A couple of months ago, I fed my husband some dirt. Literally. I decided to venture out and put clams into the soondubu jjigae instead of meat. Well, I've never dealt with clams before, so I had no idea how dirty they were. So I just quickly washed them in water, and then plopped them into the boiling water. As I tasted it later on, I noticed a kind of murkiness to the soup, but I couldn't quite place it. I just thought, "crazy seafood."

Then when the moment came to serve dinner, I had him sit down and wait for me to present the jjigae, as I always do. I like how the restaurants serve them, straight from the kitchen and still bubbling. As I eagerly awaited his reaction, I noticed that his eyebrows furrowed slightly. It wasn't exactly the response I wanted.

"Is it good?" I ventured.

"Mm..," he mumbled, with a subdued smile and a raise of the eyebrow. "It's pretty good."

He took a couple of more bites, but chewed very slowly. By this time, I knew something was up.

"Just tell me. What's wrong with it?"

"Well," Danny said hesitantly, "it tastes dirty."

"What!?! Let me see." I took a spoonful, and sure enough, that murkiness I had witnessed while it was stil on the stove was indeed, dirt. It was the most embarrassing moment of my cooking career. I had served dirt. There. I admit it. I served dirt to my husband.

They say "diamonds are a girl's best friend." I'm not sure about BEST friends, but I'd say a close second. Perhaps the first bridesmaid spot, but not the maid of honor.

On to other thoughts, I'm so glad that more of my friends are blogging, so I can take a peek into their psyche.

Danny practices electric guitar every other day now, since he's taking lessons. He is the star student. If his teacher gave out stars every time he sees excellence, Danny would have a million by now. Anyways, I'm glad that he's pursuing his passions. It makes me want to pursue piano lessons or more language classes.

Tonight we went to Saizo for a Valentine's Day dinner. They serve Japanese tapas - very good! I said to the waitress, "Sumimasen, ochya o kudasai." (Excuse me, I would like tea.) And she understood me! Woohoo.

I found my lovely black coat! It was at my gym, hanging innocently on the coat rack. I left it there last week when I went directly from work. I felt so relieved when I got off the phone with the person there who confirmed that my coat was there. I took it as a sign that I should go to the gym to work out again this week.

This morning I decided to wear my lovely black coat along with one of the only three pairs of pants that fit me right now, the black modern fit flare from GAP. As I was rushing out the door, I couldn't find my lovely pair of black shoes! I lost my shoes! HELP.

I lost my black coat! I looked for it in the closet this morning, and I could not find it. How can this happen? The last time I remember seeing it or wearing it was sometime last week. My lovely black coat. The one that kept me warm this winter. The groundhog has seen his shadow, so we have more winter. I need that coat back! Where could it be? Anyone seen it?

Why do I keep making the same mistakes over and over again? I need to know how to prevent doing that.

Among some of things...
-arriving late
-forgetting about meetings
-losing things
-misplacing things

Why am I so hard on myself when I make a mistake? Do I think that I deserve to go through a self-flogging type of behavior? Do I not want to receive grace from others or God? What is it?

Mondays are so hard. I had a heck of a time trying to wake up this morning. So cold, and don't want to leave the comfy comforters. I can't wait for spring and summer.

I know I know. There's a blizzard in New York with tremendous wind chill, there are homeless people without so much as a fire to warm their fingers, and the list goes on. What am I wailing about.

But dude, let me say it. It is Freaking Cold. I just want it to be warm again. I don't want to be sick anymore. No more coughing. When will Persephone be returned to Demeter?

Did I mention that I have an anger problem? Yeah, I do. It lay dormant for ten years, and then reared its ugly head when I got married. Poor Danny. Little did he know what he was getting into. I've said this before, but it's just that my default emotion is anger. Due to some childhood happenings, I became angry about certain things, and I just dealt with other problems that came up with anger.

It took me a while to figure out that you can have other emotions to match certain situations. So my last post had ways to annoy me. About two years ago, all those things would have made me ANGRY. Like, if you used "racism" incorrectly, I would get angry at you. Maybe not in the open, but inwardly seething. :) In the past couple of years, I have learned to add the emotion of annoyance to my bag of emotions (No, it's not because I'm married to Danny that I suddenly know the emotion of annoyance. It's not like that!). I see this as a step forward.

I heard about the emotion of "exasperated." Perhaps I'll learn this one when I have kids?

7 Ways to Annoy Me

7. Use the word "racism" incorrectly.

6. Say you're going to do something, and then flake. (Tardiness doesn't annoy me nor cancelling because of a good reason nor saying no from the get-go, but flakiness is a BIG annoyer.)

5. Talk about why you hate "Friends."

4. Sing the wrong harmony, but think that it's right. (Singing the wrong lyrics, however, does not annoy me. :) )

3. Talk about politics over dinner.

2. Ask me how come I never became a principal or a teacher of older kids who teaches "harder" subjects. Basically, people who have no idea what elementary teachers go through, and just dismiss the job as some lower class job, annoy me.

1. Rivalries. School rivalry annoys me. NoCal/SoCal rivalry annoys me. Why can't people just get along?

I LOVE watching Lost and Alias. So many surprising things happen on those two shows, and I literally sit there with my mouth hanging open.

There are two kinds of people at the faculty lunch table: TV-person and the Non-TV-person. When I'm sitting next to a TV-person, our conversations tend to get more lively and animated. With the Non-TV-person, it's a little bit more reserved. I can't get as excited about the weather as I can about the surprising shock between Boone and Shannon from last night's episode of Lost. Oops, sorry if I spoiled it for someone.

This is my favorite picture from our trip to Houston. Ellie is such a happy baby. And she's sitting in her great grandmother's lap. Three different generations. That's very special.

Eight Things I Want to do Before I Die

8. Learn to speak 10 languages.
7. Visit most of Europe, Asia, and South America.
6. Write a children's book with Asian American themes.
5. Learn how to do a back handspring.
4. Go on a long-term missionary trip.
3. Appear in a movie or TV show as the lead actress.
2. Raise at least three kids.
1. Play with my grandchildren.

Nine Ways To Win My Heart

9. Accepting my weirdness and quirkiness by taking them in stride during social interactions. Usually boring people can't handle my eccentric behavior, and so I have to restrain myself sometimes.

8. Some of you who know me know that I have a lot of gas. It's just a part of my immune system. Someone who says, "I think it smells sweet" is definitely worthy of my heart.

7. Quirkiness. I find normalcy boring to tears. Quirkiness adds spice to life, makes life colorful and fun. It's very important to me.

6. Someone who writes me a poem or a song.

5. Someone who tells me I'm the most beautiful woman in the world. And be completely serious.

4. Someone who knows exactly what I'm thinking and feeling without me ever saying anything.

3. Strong principles. A man who lives out his principles is very attractive. On the other hand, a principled man is also usually very stubborn.

2. Nerdiness. OK, not like totally and completely nerdy to the point of tears, but not cool and slick. Intelligence is a no-brainer, but my guy can't be cooler than me. I'm slightly nerdy, so he would have to be nerdier than me.

1. Sappiness. Able to be genuine in feeling, and not prone to complete sarcasm or hard-core cynicism or extreme pessimism.

I think of Danny as someone who won my heart, and is still winning my heart. Kind of like salvation. You're saved once and you are continuously being saved, working out your salvation with fear and trembling. So, Danny has won my heart once and for all, and he is continuing to win my heart on a daily basis.