San Diego / Never Let Me Go
Let’s make this one a speedrun. I’m sitting at the kitchen table in the Oxnard home. It is just past 9pm. Papa is cooking tomorrow’s lunch on the stove. Fried tofu and Korean corndogs. Yum.
San Diego / Week in Review
This past week I mostly spent sick and in bed. Caught up a lot on Reply 1988. Pretty enjoyable so far. One of the most popular K dramas of all time. A slice of life/peek into Korea during the late 80s.
Besides that the week really passed by in a blur.
Harry, Dad and I went to San Diego for a quick weekend trip. Harry went off the first day to hang out with an old college friend.
mmm yes lemme get that delicious car wash burrito
Pops and I started off in Old Town. Got a mediocre lunch at Coyote Cafe (got the California burrito). Migraine driven by sleep deprivation. Pangs of deep hunger before the food arrived. Not the best time.
Did a city bus tour all across. Was surprised by how naturally beautiful the city is, as well as how beautiful the buildings are. Why are the buildings in San Diego so innovate, interesting to look at?
Swung by Coronado. Very pleasant small town vibes. Reminded me of Catalina Island but better. Small town feelings that I am simultaneously envious of/deeply curious about. I’d imagine it’s the type of place you really get to know your community.
Went to Balboa Park. Overcast, perfect 65-70 degree weather. Zoomin around the park on Birds with Pops. Watching all the attractive girls wander by. Migraine lifted. A near perfect series of moments/feelings.
Ubered over to Embarcadero and walked the pier.
love u berkeley
Eventually linked up with Harry, his friend John, and John’s brother Justin. We drove out to a neighborhood near Claremont that felt very reminiscent of K Town, but with other ethnicities mixed in. Strip malls. H Mart. Korean Barbecue. Korean fried chicken. Chinese massage parlors. Chinese Karaoke. Izakayas. Vietnamese restaurants. A beautiful mix of the best of the best of Asian America. Why don’t we have more of these mixed areas? Coming from the context of LA, NY, SF, most ethnicities have their dedicated zones. K town. Chinatown. Little Tokyo. Pretty cool/convenient to have them all mixed up. I’m sure there’s a historical reason.
We ended up at Fusion Izakaya 52 for a pretty good dinner of beer and sushi.
The following day (Sunday) we did a great brunch at Casa Guadalajara where I had a wonderful plate of chilaquiles. I’m on a chilaquiles trend these days.
We took the Amtrak back where I finished Haruki Murakami’s First Person Singular. Some interesting stories here and there but not nearly as enjoyable as some of his other short story collections.
Some thoughts on Amtrak:
Having spent time with the fam in a new city, having seen all these small towns/cities on the train ride home. Brief glimpses into entire lives and societies revolving around places I had never been/probably would never go. Pulling into the Oxnard stop with the realization that I was just one of those random lives revolving around a random city that so many people would pass by on their own Amtrak with barely a thought.
Never Let Me Go
On the ride back I also started reading Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go.
WOW.
Hands down the best book I’ve read this year. One of the best books I’ve ever read. Read through in 3-4 hours. Could not put it down. Put me in a very weird mood.
Here’s what I wrote after I finished (an earlier draft of this week’s post):
It’s almost 8pm PST. I’m sitting at the kitchen table having eaten a light dinner of doenjang jigae and sardines munching on some dessert frozen blueberries and I’m still reeling from having read Never Let Me Go*.
I got home a couple hours ago from our weekend trip to San Diego (me, Harry, and Dad while Mom’s off in Korea). What a weird feeling.
I’m sure part of it is from having read the book. Really the best book I’ve read all year. Can’t remember the last time I was so disoriented from having finished a book. I laid in bed a couple minutes after finishing trying to absorb/process it all.
Kind of that feeling I had going back home as a kid on the last day of a long summer camp. The feeling that a new world/perspective had taken root but I was on my way home to that old point of view.
*not only did I lay in bed for almost ten minutes staring at my ceiling thinking about what I’d just read, I also went out to the backyard and walked around aimlessly trying to shake off that eery feeling.
Not sure what exactly that book did to me (pretty much back to normal now). I think a part of it was how vivid the author’s imagination was. So strongly imagined that I was sucked into that world and coming back out of it felt weird. Far far far back in my mind it almost felt as if that world I’d just been reading was a real one. Something plucked from an alternate timeline into this one*.
Honestly was shook. And maybe I can explain it away as being a little sleep deprived but actually I think it was mainly because of how good the book was.
* how wild would that be? years years years into the future we discover that deeply imagining something is actually a method of creating links between different realities. I’m a lil embarrassed to write this out loud but man what a cool idea.
Music Update
I am really enjoying the singing lessons. I actually feel myself improving. What a wonderful feeling, to—in real time—understand and experience growth in something you enjoy doing.
As I was singing my heart out I was struck by a (in hindsight) simple, groundbreaking idea:
There are different ways to sing a melody.
This came as a shock to me, a poor simpleton who had previously attempted to sing almost everything in chest voice. A poor simpleton who, previously, would only ever sing in mixed voice by pure luck or accident. Someone who would force his poor throat muscles to nearly squeal out the high notes…
You don’t always have to force your chest voice to make up for power. Isolating your mixed voice seems to drive more power there (instead of spreading that power over both mixed and chest voice). When I first stumbled upon singing with just my mixed voice, it almost felt like I was “restraining” my voice back, which I guess is exactly what I was doing.
I was shocked that holding back part of my voice makes the other part even more powerful.
Another mini revelation: there are different amounts of chest voice you can mix into your mixed voice. It doesn’t seem to be a binary choice. More of a spectrum.
Yet another thought: mixed voice seems to resonate in your nose/mouth area.
Granted, these are all just ideas that feel right to me in this moment so take them with a grain of salt. I want to actually confirm them with my vocal coach.
I’m currently working on Hate Everything by Golden. Just graduated from singing Best Part by Daniel Caesar.
The knowledge that I’m getting better. The knowledge that I have other unknown unknowns that I have yet to discover. Makes me feel real good.