Tryin’ My Best, Kansas City

I’ve been listening to Mandy Moore’s latest album, Silver Landings, and I felt inspired by one of her songs on there about Los Angeles. Obviously I can’t exactly write about L.A., but I realized I’m not sure I can write about K.C. either. I know that sounds like a sad conclusion, but what I mean is, while I can’t say K.C. has treated me horribly since I moved here, it doesn’t have that spark with me, like when girls talk about meeting a possible date for the first time and if there was an immediate chemistry or not, you know? K.C. is good, but it’s missing that something something for me and it’s not for a lack of trying. I guess my biggest pain point about this city is making new friends. You can make new friends anywhere. It just might take some time, maybe longer than you had wanted, but no matter how much time you take, it doesn’t guarantee you’ll make the kinds of friends you want to keep. What it breaks down to is I have a couple of shallow friends in K.C., but no deep friendships forged into a bond I never want to break. I’ve come to realize how hard that is to find once you move away from a city where you do have those deep friendships that actually mean something when you reflect on them. And that is the grim reality I face each day I am here. I left Columbia, MO for K.C. and I’ve come to realize over the course of time that while I may not have deep friendships in K.C., I do have a couple in CoMO that I still keep in touch with that are what I’m looking for in a keeper friendship. I hope they stay that way, but for now, I’m grateful I can text/e-mail/call/snail mail with them, truly. It is especially great to be able to do that during this neverending pandemic. I just never imagined five years in and I still don’t have what I’m looking for in a friend nearby. Is it possible to live somewhere and not have friends close by, but a couple keepers in another city close by? Within the last five years I’ve met a couple new girl friends in K.C. that I started hanging out with and broke bread together a couple of times where I could share details about my life and vice versa, but none of them ended up sticking once I was betrayed/flaked out on/freeloaded on/abandoned. Some I cut out of my life, others stopped texting/calling me to hang out. What it comes down to is I’m not meeting like-minded girls organically. I’ve met some who are great for hanging out, but so far have not developed any of those great hangs to deeper friendships I want to keep. I don’t want to be sad or angry about my situation in K.C. It just might be a great lesson in being alone and learning to accept everything that comes with being alone. There must be some reason why I’m going through this and I’m not going to let it get me down or feel sorry for myself. I may not get to forge the kind of keeper friendship I want in K.C., but I am going to let this experience help me forge a new identity. YuMin 2.0.


past, present & future

I haven’t cut my nails in a while, but I will cut them soon. I’m not the long-nails type of girl and I can’t function with long nails. Long nails are best displayed on girls who work the cash register, not the back-office girls. That’s that. Case closed.

I like drinking water because I used to drink Sprite all the time until my mother told me it wasn’t “good for you” and I quit cold turkey. Water didn’t have the flavor of Sprite, but once I got used to drinking it all the time, it’s now my favorite thing to drink. BUT, I do notice that if I have pizza or Mexican food, I crave a little of that soda that I quit. So I go for some sweet tea sometimes.

I dip my nose into the smell of rosin as I ready my instrument for a socially-distanced recording session. There is nothing like the smell of being that close to the bridge of my violin. It’s the scent of things in the making. It’s the scent of hope waiting to blossom.


the eraser on my bookshelf

I have a green cow-shaped eraser from the fifth grade that I have never used before. It sits on my bookshelf being all cute and flawless and looks at me with those “please-don’t-erase-anything-and-ruin-my-cute-cow-butt” eyes that I cave and just let it be. I think it’s comfortable on my shelf where I have left it for God knows how long. I got it with one of my best friends at the time, but I can’t for the life of me remember where I got it from. Maybe at a Scholastic book fair? Do they sell erasers at those? Wow, now that I think about those book fairs, I really really really miss those! I got my very first Harry Potter book there and it was the last copy of Book 3 since Books 1 & 2 were sold out. The librarian running the book fair told me to write my name in the book because it was so popular and mix-ups were likely if I didn’t. So Book 3 ended up being the only one I have my name in because I ordered all subsequent books online after that. But back to my eraser. What’s the point of having erasers in different fun shapes and characters if you can’t bring yourself to erase anything with them? Or sometimes it’s the memory associated with them that stops you from using something you own. I think this one is a little bit of both. The cow is too perfect to ruin and the best friend I had when I got it was one of the best best friends I have ever had. No joke. I know that kind of thing is hard to measure universally, but in my book she was the best and it’s probably one of my biggest regrets not staying in touch with her after all this time. I have other things that she gave me or remind me of her besides this eraser, but those things are put away in my childhood box. (Yes, I have this cardboard box where I keep some things that were too special to me from my childhood to throw away.) I haven’t looked in that box for a while now, not even during this pandemic. But I do get to look at that eraser every time I say “hello” to my books. It’s a constant reminder to me that once you find that one best friend who is the best best friend you have ever had, you never let them go.