The summer has only just begun, but it feels like it is going to fly by so quickly I won't know what hit me. And the closer we get to July and August, the closer we get to our next big move two hours north to the great city of smog, also known as LA. Now, being from Northern California I must have some elitest complex of never wanting to live in LA and hating it since the day I was born. I realize now that I'm moving there that I really don't know the city very well and have probably written it off to easily. But as we get ready to find our 4th apartment in ours less than two years of marriage and say goodbye to our newly developed connections in San Diego, I feel pangs of sadness already even though we've only lived in San Diego for about a year. I have to say that life is just so nice here, that SD is a place that we have grown to love in a very dear way even if we can't find decent dim sum in this town. Mostly it's a sentimental attachment- the first new place that we settled in together as a couple, the first place we learned how to live like married people working normal hours, the first place we found a church together and built our community through it, this new adventure of a place that made Paul walk around for months going, "I can't believe we get to LIVE here!" (He's from New Jersey.)
While doing my daily search on craigslist for LA apts, I suddenly got very discouraged by the higher prices, ugly streets, and thinking about the thick layer of smog over the horizon and the traffic that plagues the city at a time when I definitely want to be driving less, not more. My stomach churns at the new uncertainties that are going to come our way. New friends, new school, new church, new places, new neighborhood. Change is hard on me sometimes. I get all worked up over all the things that are out of my control. But everytime we sigh in resignation at the thought of moving to LA, I just read this fantastic list from LA Magazine that Paul found called "The 64 Greatest Things about LA." I guess they couldn't come up with 65?
Well, my favorite is this one:
Dim Sum in the S.G. Valley
Here it's not just cuisine; it's a competitive sport. The area's huge number of immigrants from the dumpling capitals of Hong Kong and Taiwan put the heat on chefs to devise the next new thing while producing fully realized versions of the classics. From hot spots like Elite Restaurant in Monterey Park to old-school favorites like Rosemead's 888 Seafood Restaurant, wherever you go, expect long waits, noisy rooms, and bliss delivered on a rolling cart.
Good dim sum covers a multitude of sins. I shudder in excitement and a sigh of relief comes over me.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
Mediocrity
I had a hard time getting out of bed this morning. Maybe it's the hot weather, being sore from body boarding this weekend, or because it's Monday. When my alarm went off at 6:45am, I snoozed it until about 8:15am. I know why this is. Besides the fact that I was having a really good dream about crispy spring rolls wrapped in lettuce and dunked in fish sauce, I know subconsciously that when I get up today and start my day, there will be no one setting a deadline on me, no one telling me to sit down and practice, no co-worker or boss to check up on me. I just have to work on stuff because I have to. Mondays I have no students to break up the day, so it's just me. And Aiko. But mainly just me.
Somehow the heat is the greatest reminder to me of the work I need to do also known as practicing. This is mostly because the dry, hot Southern Californian heat reminds me of my summer in Italy in 2005, which I still hold on a pedestal in my memory as one of the best summers of my life. That was the summer I attended a guitar course in Siena and spent my days sitting in hot, sweaty master classes and practicing in the sweltering heat (somehow, AC never caught on in Italy), pushing and pushing myself to master my scales, fingerings, pieces, and interpretations. I was motivated mostly by being around so many phenomenal guitarists, but also by a certain drive that came upon me by being so inspired by that environment. It could have been the Chianti, the pasta, the rolling hills of Tuscany, or the simple love of the guitar that came over me. Whatever it was, I crave that feeling of having an unquenchable drive for excellence. I crave the desire to push myself beyond limits. I crave the desire to work harder and longer despite sweating all over my guitar and having my fingers turn black and blistered from practicing.
Lately, everything feels "good enough." Everything seems like it's passable or alright, or ok. In fact, I can't help but think that this is also a part of being in Southern California that has rubbed off on me. I saw a mural on an elementary school near Pacific Beach painted in big bubble letters that said, "Just take life easy." This was not so surprising considering that the school was less than half a mile from the beach. But still, it made me stop and think. That's what we're teaching children here? Just take it easy? It wasn't, "The sky's the limit!" or "The world is your oyster! Go for it!" Sure, there is truth to not taking life too seriously. But a little motivation would be nice.
In the end, I know I can't blame anything on my surroundings or my environment. Work is a part of the curse that resulted in the fall of man. It's supposed to be hard. Our flesh opposes it. I believe this because I feel it in my physical body every day. I know that my flesh is by nature lazy and undisciplined. But there is something about working when it is dramatically uncomfortable to do so, when everything in your flesh tells you that you want to do otherwise, that ends up producing such enduring fruit. Thinking about the apostle Paul overwhelms me- that he approached his work with such vigor, working to further the gospel and running the race, pressing on, despite all of the physical ailments and challenges that came his way. Surely I can spend a few uninterrupted hours with my guitar if Paul could carry Jesus' story across a continent after being shipwrecked, beaten, tortured, and sick?
Somehow the heat is the greatest reminder to me of the work I need to do also known as practicing. This is mostly because the dry, hot Southern Californian heat reminds me of my summer in Italy in 2005, which I still hold on a pedestal in my memory as one of the best summers of my life. That was the summer I attended a guitar course in Siena and spent my days sitting in hot, sweaty master classes and practicing in the sweltering heat (somehow, AC never caught on in Italy), pushing and pushing myself to master my scales, fingerings, pieces, and interpretations. I was motivated mostly by being around so many phenomenal guitarists, but also by a certain drive that came upon me by being so inspired by that environment. It could have been the Chianti, the pasta, the rolling hills of Tuscany, or the simple love of the guitar that came over me. Whatever it was, I crave that feeling of having an unquenchable drive for excellence. I crave the desire to push myself beyond limits. I crave the desire to work harder and longer despite sweating all over my guitar and having my fingers turn black and blistered from practicing.
Lately, everything feels "good enough." Everything seems like it's passable or alright, or ok. In fact, I can't help but think that this is also a part of being in Southern California that has rubbed off on me. I saw a mural on an elementary school near Pacific Beach painted in big bubble letters that said, "Just take life easy." This was not so surprising considering that the school was less than half a mile from the beach. But still, it made me stop and think. That's what we're teaching children here? Just take it easy? It wasn't, "The sky's the limit!" or "The world is your oyster! Go for it!" Sure, there is truth to not taking life too seriously. But a little motivation would be nice.
In the end, I know I can't blame anything on my surroundings or my environment. Work is a part of the curse that resulted in the fall of man. It's supposed to be hard. Our flesh opposes it. I believe this because I feel it in my physical body every day. I know that my flesh is by nature lazy and undisciplined. But there is something about working when it is dramatically uncomfortable to do so, when everything in your flesh tells you that you want to do otherwise, that ends up producing such enduring fruit. Thinking about the apostle Paul overwhelms me- that he approached his work with such vigor, working to further the gospel and running the race, pressing on, despite all of the physical ailments and challenges that came his way. Surely I can spend a few uninterrupted hours with my guitar if Paul could carry Jesus' story across a continent after being shipwrecked, beaten, tortured, and sick?
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Cutting it pretty close...
And by the skin of my teeth, my first album is off to duplication! The past few weeks have been many days and nights of editing, listening, and proofreading until I felt like my eyes and ears were both going to fall off. Never had I really imagined how much work putting together an album is as an independent artist without a label to do all the legwork for you- from the music selection to the graphic design, producing and editing, coming up with an album concept, duplication, distribution, song licensing; it has been a real life crash course in the plight that musicians have to go through to get their music out to the public. It's also been a struggle for me in my work habits, too. I've experienced both feelings of resignation and perfectionism throughout the process, which was as frustrating as it was illuminating. Knowing how much work goes into album production, I now shudder at the thought of ever ripping an album from someone else (remember napster back in the day?) and vow to always pay full price for every piece of media I will ever own again, knowing that the artist makes pennies compared to how much work was put into it!
I've had some amazing help along the way and I'm so grateful to have had the means to do this. It looks like the CD's will be arriving just before the release concert in San Jose on July 12. I was worried that it would be a close one because of some recent delays. But I just spoke to the duplication company today and hopefully I will be getting the shipment (how many boxes does 1000 CD's come in?) on July 9th or so. Wow, that's close, considering the fact that I began fundraising for this project over three years ago.
Stay tuned for more info on how to buy many, many copies so you can help bail me out of the poorhouse! It will be available for purchase through www.conniesheu.com, www.cdbaby.com, and www.digistation.com- but the way to help the artist the most is by buying it directly from her or on her website! So, get ready for more shameless promotion in the next few weeks. :)
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Oh, New York!
I hereby declare that my great love affair with New York City will never end. Every time we go back I am all smiles, scheduling meals with old friends, making sure we hit all our old haunts, and reveling in the sights and sounds of the city. What makes visiting NYC so much fun is that everyone wants to see us while we're in town and we spent our whole time hanging out in cool spots and catching up with amazing friends. This was not how regular life necessarily was while we lived there. But it makes moving away a little more bearable. Here's my detailed chronicle of our latest adventure. Be warned- this post is very, very long.
Saturday, May 31
After spending the night at my friend Anna's place (who is now engaged and on youtube!), she and Mitch drop me off at Living Hope for the wedding on Saturday morning. Congrats to Dave and Sheila, a classy couple who threw one heck of a party. We doubted that people would be out on the dance floor at 3pm, but these Harvard kids sure know how to party (the open bar probably didn't hurt). Paul led worship at the wedding, and he was glad to be reunited with his old band. Above are John, John, and Rana causing trouble at our table.
Well, the wedding was such a good party that at 6pm (it was an 11am wedding) the music was still pumping! But we had tickets to the Mets/Dodgers game, so what to do? We piled in John's car and booked it to Shea Stadium...and got there in time to see the Mets beat the Dodgers 3-2. We literally saw one batter go up and the game was over. But hey, parking was free. Should I be rooting for LA now? I'm not sure if I can undo 7 years of brainwashing to love the Mets. But the Dodgers have Brooklyn roots, so I guess we'll consider it.
No visit to Flushing is complete without some tasty Asian food. So we decided to take a break from the sticky, humid day and make a pit stop at You-Chun on Northern Blvd. for some naeng-myun, a Korean cold buckwheat noodle soup in beef broth which is always a perfect treat for a hot summer day. Add some mustard and vinegar to taste and bulgogi on the side, and we were happy as clams. We got dropped off at our temporary home at Paul's sister Suzi's apartment in Brooklyn after a long day and topped our evening off at Stonehome Wine Bar, a neighborhood joint in Fort Greene where Paul and I tasted two flights of wine and indulged in three delicious cheeses and a plate of charcuterie.
Sunday, June 1
We started the morning off at church with our friend Oscar, who attends a new church plant on the Upper West Side called Grace. It was a super cool service, with a straightforward and culturally relevant message, an amazing funk-influenced worship band, and friendly people. They meet in a black box theater on top of a storefront space on 72nd street. After church, we had lunch and then Paul and I headed over to my recording engineer's studio to do a final listen through of my album. And, it's done! I'm very pleased with how everything turned out and walked away with my official master CD. Hopefully in a few weeks it will be duplicated and ready to sell.
We had some time before dinner to enjoy a stroll through Central Park after picking up some goodies from Savoy Bakery on the Upper East Side. They are an amazing Chinese-owned bakery with all the classic Chinese bakery goods- pork buns, egg custards and lots of fluffy cakes along with lots of croissants and a pretty tasty pain au chocolat. Wow.
Dinner couldn't be more enjoyable. Food is an expression of love in both our families, and when we lived in NY we were routinely spoiled by the scrumptious home cooking of Paul's mom, grandma, and aunt. That evening they drove all the way over to Suzi's place from Jersey for a feast of Korean BBQ (his grandmother has some secret recipe for making the kalbi amazingly tender and perfectly sweet) and some other homemade treats. We also celebrated Suzi's birthday a few days early. She's turning 1 in this picture.
Monday, June 2
We spent the night at my mother-in-law's place and had the chance to see one of Paul's aunts in the hospital, where she is being treated for leukemia. It was a somber visit and I don't know if she was fully aware of our presence. While we are not particularly close with her, it was heartbreaking to see her in that condition and to see the pain that her Paul's uncle is going through. It was a very brief visit and after some more time with Paul's mom, we took the bus back into the city.
We visited one of our college hot spots, Taqueria y Fonda, for our favorite thing on their menu- the chicken quesadilla. This is not your average quesadilla. Flavorful grilled chicken is trapped in a handmade flour tortilla and topped with romaine lettuce, freshly made sour cream and quesa fresca. We still haven't found anything quite like it in SD. I often daydream about their tortilla chips- greasy, crispy and always fresh out of the fryer.
Then a stopover at my friend Julie's apt on the UWS to see her and her baby Anna. Anna is now crawling and she is absolutely adorable. Just one look in those big blue-gray eyes and she gives you a huge smile that would undoubtedly melt even the coldest of hearts. I could spend hours oogling over her. I like the way she's eyeing me in the picture above. Seeing Julie as a mommy is pretty amazing. She's my closest friend from Juilliard and we went through school, graduating, getting married all at the same time- except now she's leapfrogged me into another lifestage! Anna has her sweet disposition and is a pretty happy, smiley little girl.
After an overpriced pitcher of sangria with Josh and Miriam at The Yard at the Soho Grand (the very hotel where we spent our wedding night!), we headed over to meet Dan, Naomi, and Maureen for dinner at Aurora, one of my favorite Italian restaurants in the city. They are a Brooklyn joint that now has a Soho location, and it surely did not disappoint. My papardelle with wild boar ragu had me pining for Tuscany and left enough savory goodness in my mouth to last me a few more months in California. For dessert, a panna cotta with roasted blueberries, a chocolate ganache with fior di latte gelato, and a flourless chocolate cake with hazelnut gelato. Ahhhh....
As if this weren't enough activity, we had scheduled after-dinner drinks with Paul's two best buddies from high school, Woojin and Seung-joo at the Brandy Library, which has got to be one of the coolest places in the city. Completely unassuming from the outside, walking in is like a different world- there are bottles of aged cognac, scotch, whiskey, various other spirits on the shelves that are arranged in the fashion of well, a library. The furniture is dark and polished and has the feel of an old Ivy League study room. There was even a live pianist playing Joplin. The bottles seemed to be alphabetized according to some sort of Dewey decimal system for liquor. I'm not huge on the hard stuff, but the boys seemed to have a good time and we all shared a bunch of different tasting flights while catching up and celebrating Woojin's recent engagement. We got home exhausted at about 2am and decided to sleep in the next morning.
Tuesday, June 3
After getting up at 10:30am, there was only one thought on our minds...DIM SUM! We hop on the subway to Chinatown and land at Golden Unicorn, a restaurant where we had spent many a Saturday morning at before. The best thing about getting dim sum on a weekday is that there is nobody there! Wow, what a discovery. We had all the carts to ourselves and I didn't hold back from ordering most of my favorites, which was probably enough for 4 people. Stuffed, we make our way back to Brooklyn and realize that there is only one thing left on the food list that lies unaccomplished. A slice of New York pizza! Pizza being Paul's favorite food, we don't know how we let this one slide. The line at Not Ray's Pizza on Fulton St. was a little on the long side, and by the time we finished a gooey fresh mozzarella slice we're a little behind schedule for our trip to the airport. Uh-oh. Here's where the fun begins.
Well, we managed to find ourselves arriving at the airport for a 3:25pm flight at about 3:01pm. I am panicking all the way. I usually like to get to the airport about 1 hour and 15 minutes before my flight, and we narrowly miss an earlier train to the airport and the Airtrain takes forever as well. Paul is an expert at nearly missing and definitely missing more than a few flights in his time. He has clearly done this before, and as I'm worrying over how in the world we are going to get home and who I have to call to reschedule things, he sweet talks his way to the front of the first class/business class check-in line after the self check-in computer tells us that it is too late to check in for our flight. Somehow he convinces the agent to not only check us in (even though we're in economy), but to call the gate and tell them that we are on our way to what has got to be the furthest gate from that check-in counter in all of JFK. She tells us that we might not make it since the gate is really far, and we start sprinting towards the security line. We squeeze our way to the front, apologizing to everyone and explaining we are "really, really late" while taking out a laptop, toiletries, shoes and throwing everything back in/on, and continue the sprint up and down escalators, running past the moving walkways and large groups of tourists, losing my shoe a few times, all the while with our luggage in tow. I feel like I'm going to have a heart attack by the time we arrive at Gate 41, and an agent is looking around for the two crazy, sweaty people who are making this flight wait for us. I wave frantically at her as about 4 different people move out of the way as if they are going to be run over by a pick-up truck. We somehow stow our huge garment bags on board, and the flight attendants are courteous and helpful as if nothing has happened. Wiping our faces and fanning ourselves, we land exhausted in our seats and burst into uncontrollable laughter. To top it off, Paul drops his cell phone under the seat and we cause another raucous getting two different rows of people to stand up and look for it. What troublemakers we are! I always roll my eyes at the people who get on the plane at the last minute while everyone else is seated. And I couldn't believe that I was now one of them!
The pilot announces that "the weather in America's finest city is a comfortable 65 degrees," and 5 1/2 hours later, we arrive at the San Diego Airport in classic Chun style. Seth and Courtney pick us up and take us for a tasty meal at In n' Out. I woke up this morning very, very sore...from sprinting through JFK like a madwoman.
And all for a slice of pizza.
Saturday, May 31
After spending the night at my friend Anna's place (who is now engaged and on youtube!), she and Mitch drop me off at Living Hope for the wedding on Saturday morning. Congrats to Dave and Sheila, a classy couple who threw one heck of a party. We doubted that people would be out on the dance floor at 3pm, but these Harvard kids sure know how to party (the open bar probably didn't hurt). Paul led worship at the wedding, and he was glad to be reunited with his old band. Above are John, John, and Rana causing trouble at our table.
Well, the wedding was such a good party that at 6pm (it was an 11am wedding) the music was still pumping! But we had tickets to the Mets/Dodgers game, so what to do? We piled in John's car and booked it to Shea Stadium...and got there in time to see the Mets beat the Dodgers 3-2. We literally saw one batter go up and the game was over. But hey, parking was free. Should I be rooting for LA now? I'm not sure if I can undo 7 years of brainwashing to love the Mets. But the Dodgers have Brooklyn roots, so I guess we'll consider it.
No visit to Flushing is complete without some tasty Asian food. So we decided to take a break from the sticky, humid day and make a pit stop at You-Chun on Northern Blvd. for some naeng-myun, a Korean cold buckwheat noodle soup in beef broth which is always a perfect treat for a hot summer day. Add some mustard and vinegar to taste and bulgogi on the side, and we were happy as clams. We got dropped off at our temporary home at Paul's sister Suzi's apartment in Brooklyn after a long day and topped our evening off at Stonehome Wine Bar, a neighborhood joint in Fort Greene where Paul and I tasted two flights of wine and indulged in three delicious cheeses and a plate of charcuterie.
Sunday, June 1
We started the morning off at church with our friend Oscar, who attends a new church plant on the Upper West Side called Grace. It was a super cool service, with a straightforward and culturally relevant message, an amazing funk-influenced worship band, and friendly people. They meet in a black box theater on top of a storefront space on 72nd street. After church, we had lunch and then Paul and I headed over to my recording engineer's studio to do a final listen through of my album. And, it's done! I'm very pleased with how everything turned out and walked away with my official master CD. Hopefully in a few weeks it will be duplicated and ready to sell.
We had some time before dinner to enjoy a stroll through Central Park after picking up some goodies from Savoy Bakery on the Upper East Side. They are an amazing Chinese-owned bakery with all the classic Chinese bakery goods- pork buns, egg custards and lots of fluffy cakes along with lots of croissants and a pretty tasty pain au chocolat. Wow.
Dinner couldn't be more enjoyable. Food is an expression of love in both our families, and when we lived in NY we were routinely spoiled by the scrumptious home cooking of Paul's mom, grandma, and aunt. That evening they drove all the way over to Suzi's place from Jersey for a feast of Korean BBQ (his grandmother has some secret recipe for making the kalbi amazingly tender and perfectly sweet) and some other homemade treats. We also celebrated Suzi's birthday a few days early. She's turning 1 in this picture.
Monday, June 2
We spent the night at my mother-in-law's place and had the chance to see one of Paul's aunts in the hospital, where she is being treated for leukemia. It was a somber visit and I don't know if she was fully aware of our presence. While we are not particularly close with her, it was heartbreaking to see her in that condition and to see the pain that her Paul's uncle is going through. It was a very brief visit and after some more time with Paul's mom, we took the bus back into the city.
We visited one of our college hot spots, Taqueria y Fonda, for our favorite thing on their menu- the chicken quesadilla. This is not your average quesadilla. Flavorful grilled chicken is trapped in a handmade flour tortilla and topped with romaine lettuce, freshly made sour cream and quesa fresca. We still haven't found anything quite like it in SD. I often daydream about their tortilla chips- greasy, crispy and always fresh out of the fryer.
Then a stopover at my friend Julie's apt on the UWS to see her and her baby Anna. Anna is now crawling and she is absolutely adorable. Just one look in those big blue-gray eyes and she gives you a huge smile that would undoubtedly melt even the coldest of hearts. I could spend hours oogling over her. I like the way she's eyeing me in the picture above. Seeing Julie as a mommy is pretty amazing. She's my closest friend from Juilliard and we went through school, graduating, getting married all at the same time- except now she's leapfrogged me into another lifestage! Anna has her sweet disposition and is a pretty happy, smiley little girl.
After an overpriced pitcher of sangria with Josh and Miriam at The Yard at the Soho Grand (the very hotel where we spent our wedding night!), we headed over to meet Dan, Naomi, and Maureen for dinner at Aurora, one of my favorite Italian restaurants in the city. They are a Brooklyn joint that now has a Soho location, and it surely did not disappoint. My papardelle with wild boar ragu had me pining for Tuscany and left enough savory goodness in my mouth to last me a few more months in California. For dessert, a panna cotta with roasted blueberries, a chocolate ganache with fior di latte gelato, and a flourless chocolate cake with hazelnut gelato. Ahhhh....
As if this weren't enough activity, we had scheduled after-dinner drinks with Paul's two best buddies from high school, Woojin and Seung-joo at the Brandy Library, which has got to be one of the coolest places in the city. Completely unassuming from the outside, walking in is like a different world- there are bottles of aged cognac, scotch, whiskey, various other spirits on the shelves that are arranged in the fashion of well, a library. The furniture is dark and polished and has the feel of an old Ivy League study room. There was even a live pianist playing Joplin. The bottles seemed to be alphabetized according to some sort of Dewey decimal system for liquor. I'm not huge on the hard stuff, but the boys seemed to have a good time and we all shared a bunch of different tasting flights while catching up and celebrating Woojin's recent engagement. We got home exhausted at about 2am and decided to sleep in the next morning.
Tuesday, June 3
After getting up at 10:30am, there was only one thought on our minds...DIM SUM! We hop on the subway to Chinatown and land at Golden Unicorn, a restaurant where we had spent many a Saturday morning at before. The best thing about getting dim sum on a weekday is that there is nobody there! Wow, what a discovery. We had all the carts to ourselves and I didn't hold back from ordering most of my favorites, which was probably enough for 4 people. Stuffed, we make our way back to Brooklyn and realize that there is only one thing left on the food list that lies unaccomplished. A slice of New York pizza! Pizza being Paul's favorite food, we don't know how we let this one slide. The line at Not Ray's Pizza on Fulton St. was a little on the long side, and by the time we finished a gooey fresh mozzarella slice we're a little behind schedule for our trip to the airport. Uh-oh. Here's where the fun begins.
Well, we managed to find ourselves arriving at the airport for a 3:25pm flight at about 3:01pm. I am panicking all the way. I usually like to get to the airport about 1 hour and 15 minutes before my flight, and we narrowly miss an earlier train to the airport and the Airtrain takes forever as well. Paul is an expert at nearly missing and definitely missing more than a few flights in his time. He has clearly done this before, and as I'm worrying over how in the world we are going to get home and who I have to call to reschedule things, he sweet talks his way to the front of the first class/business class check-in line after the self check-in computer tells us that it is too late to check in for our flight. Somehow he convinces the agent to not only check us in (even though we're in economy), but to call the gate and tell them that we are on our way to what has got to be the furthest gate from that check-in counter in all of JFK. She tells us that we might not make it since the gate is really far, and we start sprinting towards the security line. We squeeze our way to the front, apologizing to everyone and explaining we are "really, really late" while taking out a laptop, toiletries, shoes and throwing everything back in/on, and continue the sprint up and down escalators, running past the moving walkways and large groups of tourists, losing my shoe a few times, all the while with our luggage in tow. I feel like I'm going to have a heart attack by the time we arrive at Gate 41, and an agent is looking around for the two crazy, sweaty people who are making this flight wait for us. I wave frantically at her as about 4 different people move out of the way as if they are going to be run over by a pick-up truck. We somehow stow our huge garment bags on board, and the flight attendants are courteous and helpful as if nothing has happened. Wiping our faces and fanning ourselves, we land exhausted in our seats and burst into uncontrollable laughter. To top it off, Paul drops his cell phone under the seat and we cause another raucous getting two different rows of people to stand up and look for it. What troublemakers we are! I always roll my eyes at the people who get on the plane at the last minute while everyone else is seated. And I couldn't believe that I was now one of them!
The pilot announces that "the weather in America's finest city is a comfortable 65 degrees," and 5 1/2 hours later, we arrive at the San Diego Airport in classic Chun style. Seth and Courtney pick us up and take us for a tasty meal at In n' Out. I woke up this morning very, very sore...from sprinting through JFK like a madwoman.
And all for a slice of pizza.
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