Rainy weddings and our first date

I love when things come full circle. When the past comes back to meet the present (or less distant past) in an odd way. Two separate points of time intersecting and just begging you to breathe meaning into them, or at least acknowledge the similarities.

Isaac and I shared our first date on the last Friday evening in May. It was six years ago today, which is perhaps why I can't get this story out of my head recently. I remember being so uneasy and nervous at the time, but thinking about it now just makes me smile and chuckle.

Before that Friday, I had hung out with Isaac a few times with other friends, and had been mildly charmed by his goofy sense of humor. I remember him talking about taking interstellar vacations in his mind (like Einstein's dreams) and having me prove my hangul (korean alphabet) skills by reading words he scribbled on a receipt - “cheese, wine, Isaac is handsome”. When he asked me to go on a date with him, I thought about it for a few days and then said okay.

That Friday I had a wedding to attend - a college friend of mine was marrying a guy that went to my same high school, the event being held in the same church which housed my elementary school. More intersections.


The wedding took place in the middle of the afternoon afternoon, kind of weird time but perfect since I had made other plans for the evening. I don’t remember much from the service, but as we were munching hors d’ouevres at the reception it started to storm. And not just a cute spring shower, but a righteous, booming, charcoal sky swallowing up the sun kind of storm. When there was a break from the dark clouds and rain, everyone quickly lined up outside so that the couple could make a quick exit.

The forecast called for the storms to continue all evening, so I guess they figured they'd better leave while they have the chance. The wedding quickly dissipated after that, no one needing any excuse to leave now - the bride and groom were gone, the storm would return soon and Friday afternoon traffic would only get worse.

And so I too told my friends goodbye, and began rehearsing plans in my head of impending first date preparations. It mostly involved changing into a black dress, because that’s what grown up women wear on dates, right? The dress was a lovely hand-me-down from my sister. I’d never buy anything so normal and sophisticated looking on my own. French Connection brand, the top half is cut like a tank top, one inch straps and a rounded neckline. Two layers of skirts - a puffy one on the outside and a tighter one beneath it, double protection against any unladylike posture. Cute yet practical.

I ran through the misting rain, from the wedding and shut my car door with relief. I did my infamous change-clothes-in-the-car move. It's a skill I think most girls develop in high school out of the necessity of awkward locker room moments. You must change clothes while revealing as little skin as possible. So you put on the second outfit over the first, then through a series of contortions (and the occasional pop of stretched clothing) you remove the inner layer (first outfit), pulling it out through arm sleeves and beneath a wrinkled skirt or pants leg. During my college days, I occasionally did this while driving too - pretty dumb I know.

After successfully completing this maneuver, I recognized a problem. I had been so determined to wear this grown up looking dress, that I had ignored my own good sense. The dress must be made for someone a little smaller or more daring than me. It does not fit me well. The neckline plunges uncomfortably low, showing off the top half of my breast bone. And the skirt runs about mid thigh. So when I go to pull up the top, raising the neckline, the skirt becomes dangerously short. When I go to pull the skirt down to a more modest length, the neckline plunges even deeper.

And so I make a detour to Old Navy and buy a blank tank top. In the parking lot, sitting in the driver’s seat of my Mustang convertible, I manage to put the tank top on beneath the dress, using my locker room changing skills once more. When someone passes by I just sort of freeze in whatever position my arms are twisted in and look down at the floor. The tank top does its job. Now I can pull down the dress all I want without worrying. My top will stay covered.

And so I drive from Irmo to Garnersferry Road, towards Isaac’s place. I’m running short on time, but it is really raining hard, so even slightly reckless me has to be careful. It’s my first time at his place, and I have to call him in order to get through the front gate of his apartments. We meet and I hop into his red Honda, then we drive back to Irmo. All of that rushing and I'm back where I started.

On the way I tell him about the wedding. I mention the torrential storm. There's a break in the rain now and the sun is shining brightly, making the air around us steamy and sticky. The roads, cars and trees all seem brand new from the layer of rain still coating them. I commented on what seems like a less than ideal situation.
“What terrible luck to have it storm on your wedding day. I hope that’s not a bad omen or anything.”
“Well, it could be a good sign really. Rain brings fresh, new life” He replies.
“That's true." We are half joking, half serious as we try to make the storm into a positive sign. "It can mean regeneration and renewal. The seed of their new marriage and life together is just sprouting.”
“Yea, fertility too.” Now we're both laughing, trying a little too hard to draw meaning and weave optimism into a storm.
“It could be kind of romantic I guess. But everyone is all dressed up.. I wouldn't want it to happen to me.”
Our first date stretches on for hours - sushi for dinner, bubble tea for dessert and jazz music for second dessert.

Fast forward just over five years and I find myself putting on a dress once more, white this time, what grown up girls wear on their wedding days. This date I'm prepping for has my stomach even more twisted and in knots. Yet this time when Isaac and I meet and it's just the two of us, the nerves calm a bit and we feel more relaxed.

 Later that evening, my un-wish comes true. Rain on our wedding day. And it is not a delicate shower but a hearty storm drumming on the roof and smacking the pavement outside. Its arrival seems perfectly timed to make packing up and leaving the reception the most difficult for our family and friends helping. But then it does dissipate, leaving the streets shiny and air steamy just like before.

That night I didn't remember the conversation from our first date together. It was just small talk, breaking the ice between a nervous boy and girl who didn't know each other very well. We can choose to believe that a rainy wedding means new life, fertility, renewal and all of those flowery things. Or maybe it is just a sweet and funny part of our story together. Whatever it is, I like it.

Driving and Visitors

Even after my thesis last week on why not to rent a car in Europe, I am reminded of how much fun it is just to drive around and explore unfamiliar places. There's something about just cruising that can't be beat. Thinking back, I remember several instances where driving was just a fun past time. Sitting in the back seat with Uncle Mark and Mimi cruising country roads above Winnsboro, or taking the long way home after church on Sunday with Mom and Dad.

It seems like Isaac and I are continuing this tradition. Lately we've done a fair share of driving, exploring the neighborhoods and parks nearby our new place.

Our biggest find thus far is yet another green blob I noticed on a map - the Parklands of Floyds Fork. It's a beautiful collection of parks that cushion a winding river (Floyds Fork). The parks have baseball and soccer fields, access points to drop in kayaks, small meandering footpaths and one long, paved trail that runs the park's entire length. I'm not sure how long the whole park is, but there's incremental signs measuring the distance (both by foot and by boat for path and river-goers) and the part we visited was mile 60-something.

It reminds me a bit of the river parks in Columbia - Riverwalk and Riverfront Park - in that they are separate parks that flow together. But one big difference is these parks are not in the heart of a city. It feels like a polished and new park in the middle of nowhere - there's kids playing soccer, parents watching and a background of tree-covered hills.

The particular part we went to is known for its beech trees, many being between 200-300 years old. I can't wait to visit this place in the fall.

Below is the main paved trail that runs the entire length of the parks. Do you see what I mean about being in the middle of nowhere? Shiny white pavement plopped down in the country.

Something else you're bound to encounter while driving (or just being here) is storms. I'm learning that this part of the country is where tons of weather fronts meet - cool air comes down from Canada and warm, wet air comes up from the Gulf. They smack together and we get some serious storms. To me, it just feels a little more intense and frequent than what we get back home.

I took this picture when we were heading west on the interstate one evening. This storm was one that caused some tornadoes in other states and brought high winds and hail to our state too. Luckily just the edge of it tickled Louisville, but it did make the sky look pretty unreal and scary. I can't imagine what it's like living in "tornado alley", just being on the edge of all the fun is enough for me.

My parents have done their fair share of driving this past week too. They came to visit us! They were also so sweet and carried up more items for our apartment too. Most notably, they brought Cookie, our beloved and spoiled rabbit. Mom has been caring for her the entire while we lived in South Korea, and it is nice to finally have her back with us. She settled in more quickly than any of us expected.

Since my parents were in town, all four of us drove around together just to show them parts of Louisville. One place we visited that sticks out is a cute barbecue place we just happened to stumble upon. It is located in the kind of area where it's hard to find parking close by, and the only options are along cramped streets. Yet this restaurant had exactly one parking place, and it was empty and waiting on us.

One more place we drove by was the Ford Truck Factory Plant. I have to admit that this place didn't provide such beautiful scenery, but it was still neat to see what seemed like an endless gleaming sea of spanking new trucks and SUVs.

That just about sums up this past week. It was a lot of fun and zoomed by quickly. We continue to settle in, buying little things like a can opener and a different sized spatula. Now that the weather is warming up, I'm planning our next driving adventures. I've got a few green blobs on my mind.

Honeymoon Revisited

Many times when we are hanging out, Isaac and I reflect upon the highlights of our honeymoon - the unreal beauty of Lake Como, the charming countryside town of Montelupo, the surprisingly tropical southern part of France and the picuresque buildings of Paris. But just as often, we remember other quirks from it too - that shady rental car agent in Paris, the sneakily expensive breakfast in Nice and the brazen gypsies in Rome.

We had a lot of unforgettable experiences on our honeymoon, but not all of them were scrapbook worthy. So I thought it'd be fun to revisit our honeymoon and cover a few tips we learned along the way.

Rental Car vs. Public transportation

Coming from America, having a rental car was something we assumed we would need for travelling around Europe. But if you think about Europe, it's smaller than the States and there is less distance between many large cities.

We encountered so much trouble because of our rental cars in France in Europe. Reservations were a hassle, followed by being told at pick-up that our promised vehicle was unavailable, the only option being to rent a more expensive BMW sedan. And then the morning we had to drop off our BMW in Nice. It was an intense half hour suitable for the television show "The Amazing Race". We had to find the hidden drop-off point in a city unfamiliar to us. It literally came down to the final minute before we would be charged for another day. Isaac ran ahead with the car keys and paperwork, while I trailed behind with our luggage calling "I'll find you, don't worry, just go!" after him.

I showed a picture of this lovely train station in Nice before. Although our train was delayed over half an hour, we didn't mind at all, having just completed our relay race to return that cursed rental car.

On board the train from France to Italy, with a full day of travelling ahead of us, I can only see relief in our faces, and for Isaac gratitude to have a break from driving.

After crossing into Italy, we got off the train at the Genoa station, which is so tiny that it had no staff or restrooms. After an hour of dragging our luggage down picturesque streets, boarding a bus with no tickets and meeting a friendly pedestrian, we made it to the pick-up point of our second rental car.

Besides the logistics of getting a rental car, don't forget about the trouble of driving in a foreign country. You need an international driver's license, which luckily Isaac had because of business trips. Signs and symbols can be unfamiliar, and traffic laws unknown. On the highways there are sensors and cameras which measure your speed and record your plates. Several months after returning from our honeymoon, a gift arrived in the mail from France in the form of a speeding ticket.

There were a few moments when having a rental car truly felt worth it though. That was when we stayed in remote, country areas with small roads and scarce public transit. Having a car in Lake Como and in the Tuscan countryside was a treat. We felt that wonderful sensation of being alone on the road, surrounded by so much unfamiliar beauty.

We did utilize public transportation as well - subways, trains and buses in Paris, Florence and Rome. Long distance trains were pleasant and city buses were crowded yet efficient. Paris and Rome's subway systems were old and grungy, as you might expect for cities of their age. But being a bit uncomfortable because of the grit of public transit is a lot easier to stomach than feeling the stress and burden of a rental car.

If we had not gotten a rental car, I wouldn't have experienced the excitement of riding along these tiny, winding streets, with colorful buildings and homes stacked together on the mountainside, sloping down towards Lake Como. But still, if at all possible, I think it's best to avoid the hassle of rental cars

Food

One of the best things about travelling to new places is trying out the food. Whether it's some foreign country, or just a different side of town, finding new restaurants must be one of our favorite hobbies.

We were able to eat many tasty local foods on our honeymoon. But it seems like there is a line you have to balance. Factors that can push you to one side or another are price, personal taste and mood. During our two weeks in Europe, we flipflopped on either side of the line. Two faux pas come to my mind quickly.

Our second night in Paris, we ate at a cute cafe on the street where we were staying. I ordered a tasty sounding salad, playing it safe and having previously learned that the French make incredible salads. Isaac impressed me by ordering something very French called fois gras. It just so happened my camera was out and ready when he received his dish, and I captured this telling gesture.

That is the Isaac thinking face - as his mind linked the dish with an unsavory memory. Fattened duck liver in spreadable form with crunchy bread. He ate a hearty portion of it as we googled about how fois gras is made and discussed what a repulsive concept it is.

We had been travelling for about a week when we ate dinner at a seafood restaurant in Como, Italy. I wanted to save a little money, and so decided to just order a side salad instead of a full fish entree. It was called a Sicilian salad, and when I googled it pictures of rainbow colored salads came up. What arrived in front of me was a dinner plate full of sliced tomatoes with pepper, olive oil and balsamic vinaigrette swirled across it. That was all. So I ate tomatoes for dinner. No basil, no cheese, no bread, just tomatoes. I guess I was so disappointed that I didn't feel like taking a picture that night.

After these experiences, Isaac and I learned the balance between enjoying local flavors, being reasonable and following our own tastes. So sometimes we skipped the Italian pastas and breads in exchange for what we were truly craving in the moment - McDonald's and Korean food in Florence, Chinese soups and stir-fry in Rome. These meals, which satisfied our cravings and provided a much needed break from bread and pasta, also saved us money, being significantly cheaper than the standard Italian food which must be ordered a la carte.

Planning vs. Meandering

When you're getting ready for a trip, there is always the matter of planning. Some people prefer to plan every moment, others float freely. We oscillated somewhere in between. If you are visiting somewhere famous, like Paris and Rome, it seems obvious that there are key attractions you've heard of or that others recommend to you. But similar to what we discovered with food, our schedule needed a healthy balance between local "must-sees" and relaxed wanderings.

I had a rough outline of ideas to explore in each place we stayed. Sometimes these sights ended up living up to the hype, other times they fell short. Paris museums were impressive and unforgettable, yet the palace of Versailles was disappointing. It is far from the downtown area, you must wait in a very long line before entering (even if you have a special pass like we did), and the insides are lackluster. Wandering in the gardens seemed nice, but on random days (like when we visited) you must pay additional admission which we weren't willing to do. I told Isaac that the Biltmore House (which ironically was modeled after French chateaus like this one) is way better and we'll have to visit there.

We did love that courtyard though. It felt like Alice in Wonderland with so many bright colors and unique patterns.

Our first coffee in Italy was at a picturesque cafe in Como. We admitted it didn't taste much different than a good latte elsewhere but enjoyed it nevertheless. This was an item in my mental to-do list. "Have espresso in Italy." Check.

A few days later, in the adorably quiet town of Montelupo, we stopped for refreshments at a small convenience store. Isaac got a popsicle shaped like a foot, and I got another latte. This moment was perfect, unplanned and just naturally occurring on a quiet afternoon sitting in plastic chairs at a plastic table. I think about it more often than that first planned coffee experience.

By the time we arrived in Rome, the last city of our trip, we had decided to trim down our list of must-sees and enjoy as much of our time away from the tourist crowds as possible. Taking a city bus to the Pantheon was a fun experience, and that temple was truly a spectacular sight. Wandering northeast through the small cobbled streets of Rome was just as fun, looking through small shops, stopping for tiramisu, our only objective being to reach the Villa Borghese Gardens. I shared about this place before, with its wondrous mature trees and sweeping views over the ancient city.

This park was not in any guidebook we skimmed or on any list of must-sees. Rather, we saw the large green colored area on google maps, about halfway between the Pantheon and our accommodations, and decided to check it out. This kind of spontaneous meandering and fun is often more enjoyable and fulfilling than an hourly schedule.

Sometimes when we are talking about our honeymoon, we do it in the form of questions. What was your favorite meal we ate in France? If you had to live in one of the places we visited, which would you pick? Usually our answers are different, but one topic we both agree upon is Lake Como. If had to boil our honeymoon down to one tip or suggestion, it would probably be "go to Lake Como."

Settling in and Playing House

I took this picture walking to our mailbox last weekend.

That's the apartment office and community center straight ahead. And the landscaping here isn't anything elaborate, but the fertile ground of the bluegrass region really makes it pop, which is why I randomly snapped this photo.

Reflecting over this past week, we are getting pretty settled in our new home. While living in South Korea, there was always an uncertain feeling since we did not know how long we would end up staying - a few months, a few years? Because of this mindset, I resisted buying many household items which make day to day life more comfortable. Things like forks and knives, drawers for clothing and the kind of decor stuff that seems to especially make wives happy - kitchen accessories, wall art, bed linens, lamps, rugs etc.

I don't mean to make it sound like we did without, for as my previous blogs show, that definitely was not the case. We just chose not to invest much into our home, and rather to enjoy the city around us more while we had the chance. But it did teach me a little about what is really a necessity and what are just comforts. No one actually needs a toaster.

Now that we have moved though, I realize the value of such little things even more. I already feel more comfortable in our apartment here than I ever did in Suwon. Part of it is the experience of moving in with Isaac and picking out things myself. Moving after our wedding was simple for me, Isaac had already lived there and bought the necessities. Coming to Louisville was my first true experience of having a fresh start - not living in my parent's house, or a dorm room, or Isaac's apartment where furniture and basics are already there waiting for me.

It's these kinds of small touches that make our apartment feel like home. The clock from Mimi and Uncle Mark's house, a painting from my Great Aunt Mary, doily from Mrs. Jones, duck set from my brother both on table from my sister, plate set from Isaac's Aunt and Uncle, displaying some of my old cameras and our books.

The birds still serenade us every day - raucous crows begging for bread, chirpy cardinals, a pair of mourning doves, cowbirds, bullying blue jays and some others whose names I don't know.  And our west facing balcony is just right for a mini garden.

Our apartment is still not complete, which is why I'm sharing snippets but not full rooms. This time it is not because of any temporary feeling.

Last summer while tending to my potted wedding plants, I listened to an audiobook, the "Steve Jobs" biography by Walter Isaacson. One story about him that stuck out to me regarded buying furniture for his house. Jobs was kind of well known for his preference of living with just the bare essentials. There's even a famous picture of him that was in a 1982 Time magazine illustrating this. He didn't have much, but those things he did have were carefully chosen - I see an awesome lamp and a killer early '80s sound system.

(From from http://archive.fortune.com/galleries/2009/fortune/0911/gallery.steve_jobs_rare_photos.fortune/4.html )

After getting married and moving into a house with his wife, Jobs was faced with the daunting task of having to buy furniture. It was hard not because of money, but because of the weight he placed on picking the most perfectly designed specimens. His wife, Laurene Powell, was quoted speaking about their experience together. "We spoke about furniture in theory for eight years. We spent a lot of time asking ourselves, 'What is the purpose of a sofa?'"

I've always been indecisive, and lean on the side of saving rather than splurging. So when I first heard this story, I saw myself reflected in it a great deal. When I told Isaac about it, his response was concern, and then hope that I would not be as atypical as Steve Jobs. Yet I've done this on a small scale before, agonizing about a purchase for a long time before actually (or never) making it. Sometimes I compensate for my indecisiveness and perfectionism by seeking out items well in advance of when they are needed. During the years we dated, I slowly accrued things for our place - like a queen sized sheet set, two pillows, two rocking chairs and two matching mugs. For me, it's about finding a product with the perfect trinity of traits: high quality, low price and great design. If something has all three of these, I'll bite. Sometimes I fall for something if it's just really cute and/or has a face, but I'm working on that.

All of that about Jobs and being indecisive is just me trying to invoke sympathy for Isaac. Just joking. But since moving to Louisville, I am reminded of how well we balance each other out. In this respect, his practical nature ("Let's buy what we need to settle down comfortably") and my flighty nature ("But I think it's too expensive/cold feeling/ugly/wobbly/small) work well together. We bought a mattress two days after moving here, but will not buy a bed frame and other bedroom furniture until I find the perfect pieces. Between the two of us, we have a pretty practical and cozy nest here. There is still a good bit to be done before we are truly settled in, but for now, we sleep comfortably upon our nice mattress that lies on the floor.