On Spying on Innocent Cafe-Goers.

From time to time are thoughts that overstay their welcome, knocking around from one corner of my brainbox to another until they become all but familiar visitors. Visitors who aren’t all that profound, really, but deserve at least a small nod before I send them off to wherever-they-came-from or wherever-they’ll-go. Here are some of my favorite friends who have kept me company:

• Looking over shoulders at cafes is truly the best way to find new music. Now, I don’t mean stare or be nosy, but a quick glance should suffice. Because no one curates a cute outfit and packs their noise-cancelling headphones just to sit at Chit Chat Matcha and listen to Maroon 5 or Katy Perry. Some gems I’ve collected (i.e. poached from innocent cafe-goers): Michael Learns to Rock and American Football. 

• 효도 (孝道 Hyo-do) is a Korean word for which there is no English counterpart. Its Chinese characters roughly translate to ‘the road to filial piety.’ It is perhaps my parents’ unconditional support and steadfastness (which I recognize to be a tremendous privilege) that once cast the illusion that they were invincible; that they were unfazed by unkind words; that teenage angst and temperamental attitudes didn’t disconcert them. I used to think that my success would serve my parents—but there’s surely a distinction between becoming a successful daughter and a kind, attentive one. And so I hope that this word continues to guide and shape me.

• There are actually a lot of Korean words whose nuance is not captured through English translation. It’s quite frustrating at times because so much is lost—the warm fuzzy feeling from words like 기특하다, the slightly-awkward, muted flurry of movement from 주섬주섬, the simple and unconditional weight of 정. But I’m partial to it, as it also feels like a little secret that only I know (plus the entirety of the Korean peninsula). Shh!

• I have never felt more alive than in my Classics research capstone. I didn’t think I’d be so captivated by the ancient novel (because what even is an ancient novel? Colleen Hoover certainly wasn’t around back then) and pastoral literature (think shepherds, the countryside, children of aristocratic birth who are discovered and raised by goats), but it is—hands down—the most unfiltered fun I’ve had in a class in a long time. 

• The sentiment that the music of your early teens is a stencil for your early twenties—I didn’t believe this until my Spotify playlists were slowly overtaken by KT Tunstall, Amy Winehouse, The Cranberries, and Dido: my mom’s old radio station music. 

• Or maybe I just miss home.

• I’ve recently watched a YouTube mockumentary on the rising popularity of influencer/celebrity substacks, which is something that I genuinely thought only Bay Area kids started to (1) log their philosophical life musings after a half-day tour at Tesla headquarters and (2) post said musings onto their LinkedIns for ‘visibility.’ Though a (self-aware[1]) Bay Area kid myself, I don’t mean to be pretentious in the slightest—I’m actually just an advanced case of performative blogging. Hoping I beat the know-it-all allegations with this one.

• Moving away from constant stimulation. I’d always listen to a podcast on the way to work or while walking to class. But lately, I’ve been learning to enjoy my own company; to sit with my thoughts. It’s a much faster recharge than I anticipated, and it’s quite refreshing to get to know myself. 

[1] Read: sarcasm

The opening scene of The Aithiopika. Thanks DALL-E!