READ 50 BOOKS IN 2020 (audio books not included because they require no reading, and also, I don’t utilize the form)

Current Reads: 52/50 [30Nov2020]

A small brown, tan metal pin with gold sans script text Go Away! I’m reading, is pinned to the strap of a muslin planter
A small brown, tan metal pin with gold sans script text Go Away! I’m reading, is pinned to the strap of a muslin planter
pin was gifted by ig book friend @ bookishandbougee
  1. Factfulness by Hans Rosling
  2. Elastic by Leonard Mlodinow
  3. Paradise Under Glass by Ruth Kassinger
  4. The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy
  5. The Privileged Poor by Anthony Abraham Jack
  6. The Association of Small Bombs by Karan Mahajan
  7. North American Tree Squirrels by Michael A. Steele, John L. Koprowski
  8. Rest In Power by Sybrina Fulton and Tracy Martin
  9. Children of the Land by Marcelo Hernandez Castillo
  10. In the Land of Men by Adrienne Miller
  11. Unravelling the Double Helix: The Lost Heroes of DNA by Gareth…

…the tiny semblance of a feeling to which you sufferers of white privilege may be able to relate.

And of course, I have no idea if you’ve ever experienced this particular feeling, but I do think it is a feeling with which anyone can empathize simply by understanding the context inside which this example exists. And it is a feeling with which I (and others like me, but I haven’t done any legwork on this as I am a self-labeled ‘amateur’) am very familiar and have to deal with on a regular basis.

Imagine you’re invited to dinner, therefore, you must attend. You arrive, and you are greeted, friendly enough, and people see you and acknowledge your existence, but then, when everyone moves to sit in the dining room, there’s no place for you, and there’s clearly no room to set up an extra place. The host apologizes and hopes you will understand that there’s simply not enough food for you because you didn’t rsvp on time, so they’re really sorry that you can’t stay for the dinner part. You gently state that you did rsvp, and that the host had said they’d received it when you saw them last Tuesday. The host shakes their head as if trying to remember something and finally states that that can’t be right. It is, but who are you to make a fuss about free dinner. …

& Social Media


the United Statesian Edition

You get here, learn the rules, and play the game.

If you’re not a player, you’re a pawn.

And if you don’t care about winning, well, you’re gonna lose, because (after all), the U.S.A. is where the winners take all (and gloat about it).

Welcome to These United States.

Not everyone passes “GO” to collect $200.

Only some will collect the Get Outta Jail Free Card.

And none are given a chance beyond the roll of some dice.

[this is 100% real, and I sent a copy to the CEO, himself]

To Whom It May Concern:

Hello, my name is [redacted], and I recently participated in the Leadership program here in [redacted], which is organized through the local Chamber of Commerce. I am writing to you today about a concern within the Chamber.

As a minority female, I was called privately into the CEO’s office to “talk about” an email I wrote to the fellow members of my class. I was unsurprised when I received no communication with fellow members of my class, as they are all white (well, with the addition of two Latinx and a fellow Asian) and do not actually live within the city limits of [redacted]. …

…yoga as “How to live in a human body” … an opinion.

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on instagram @ amateurtattletale

…i keep going back and forth on all of this social media nonsense, as well as on all of this yoga nonsense on social media. And if you are a wonderful yoga light aka a yoga teacher, please do not read this as my insistence that yoga teachers are unnecessary, absolutely not. If anything, the world needs a yoga teacher in every home. …

begin with the first bit, and you’ll read yourself here

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on instagram @ amateurtattletale

Dawn, with a faint shimmer of sunbeams peering through the cracks between the trees, while the grassy, unkempt lawn begins to warm, he arrives. Aware of her forthcoming arrival later in that day, he knows better than to cross paths at this time. They cannot, as it were, make green just yet. The stakes are too high; they are identities all too fragile. He grows weary of chasing her down in order to travel through space and time, constantly arriving at places unknown to them, only to find that they must travel yet again with no knowledge about the bigger picture. This time, he decides, things will be different. Of course, they’re always different, and yet, the sameness of their situation continues to follow, forever, endlessly in a loop they now feel trapped within. He remembers the words of the old man’s warning. There’s no way of knowing when or where happens before, there is only what he knows … without doubt. …

(Kimchi Day)

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on instagram @ amateurtattletale

I’ve cried in more Korean restaurants in Korea than I’ve cried in total in my lifetime.

There’s something about being adopted that makes me feel insecure about my Korean-ness.

I cried because eating Korean food made me feel as though I had no idea how to be Korean.

And the reality is that I don’t know how to be Korean.


And so, I taught myself how to make 김치 [kimchi], the napa cabbage variety (that is kimchi whenever someone is talking about kimchi is going to be napa cabbage kimchi, but kimchi really needs to be thought of more as “pickled” therefore requiring the mind to accept that kimchi is not one thing but many things), that is specifically named bae-choo kimchi [배추김치] being my favorite, if clarity (when buying kimchi, per se) is required. …

begin at the beginning, and then, you’ll read yourself here :)

Encapsulated within a nightscape of galaxies far beyond and throughout, an island made of hopes and fears wraps itself around water, purple and pooled. Centered, a glass house, seemingly molded and melded as one piece, as a whole, floats as an island upon the pool wrapped on an island. A single blue droplet drops. Splunk. A white and blue mist swirl as the droplet spits up an even smaller droplet that eventually falls only to spit up another, even smaller droplet in a continuance that spawns forever. Formless again, she reaches both hands out in front of what she used to know as her “face”, only to see … nothing. …

…a tale of one robe, my first robe.

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on ig @ amateurtattletale

…this “silk robe” (&I use quotations here as this one is made out of a polyester crepe, I believe but dunno) is, by far, currently my single most-favorite item of non-winter clothing (my overwhelming joy for winter outerwear will not be outdone by a robe); I absolutely feel awesome whenever wearing it, and I wear it a lot but not too much cause I don’t wanna wear it out. It makes me feel important as it swishes behind me, and the best compliment I’ve ever received in my entire life was in Seoul when a teacher/acquaintance of my lifemate said, outloud, while we, a small group of people partying in the name of a foreigner’s farewell, were walking from one 노래방 to another, “You look like a queen the way your…cape?…moves so elegantly.” I thanked her profusely. …


Amateur Tattletale

“It’s the intention that drives us; it’s the unintended that defines us.”

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