Mary H.K. Choi Quotes
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When I was five, I compound-fractured my arm, pulverising my elbow.
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Yes, Justin Bieber is a contrivance. Yes, Justin Bieber's lyrics are insipid - worse still, disingenuous. Yes, his tattoos stink. Yes, he's lousy at skateboarding. But what does any of this actually matter? In case you missed it, Bieber won.
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If there was a button that I could push that would agog my brain to the level that I felt first seeing 'Avatar' in its entirety and another one for food pellets, I would die of starvation.
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Try life as your own boss, on your own voyage. No daily commute. No salad bar at 12:15. No cc'ing about the meeting.
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For my first job interview out of college, I wore a cream-colored cotton suit with cap sleeves and an inverted box pleat skirt that was appropriate for the late-August heat - and wildly discordant with the Red Hook offices of the graffiti magazine I had called twice to find.
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Eventually, I just want to write wavy little short stories.
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You are overwhelmed, overscheduled, and dejected because you keep trying to have it all - or at least most of it. You want a fulfilling job and personal life, and it's not working. The way out? Work more.
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In New York, you collect a thousand encounters a year, a passel of handshakes, a zillion air-kisses, and boatloads of business cards that you pitch into your purse and eventually deposit your chewing gum into. Amid this break-neck montage of glancing contacts, I'm tormented by the constant thrumming fear of being fingered as a flake.
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I commit words to paper and the Internet for everyone to pick apart, so I think I tend to be a lot more cynical and dulled.
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Pirates, me hearties, are the Patronus of the freelancer.
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Aside from the can, everything about LaCroix is gentle.
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Do you know why we pay trainers and nutritionists? Because having to muster interest in the minor successes of someone else's journey toward pedestrian-ass healthiness is taxing and should be compensated.
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If you are someone's emergency contact - you are their person, and they are your person - there is work involved.
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Home is where my house pants live. And they're hideous.
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My brother's in comics. I work in media.
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Learning to ride a bike in a public park means anyone can see you.
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Manhattan, after eight years here, still reminds me of Hong Kong. There are parts of Chinatown that are the spit and image of streets in Wan Chai, and I am held in thrall by the Chrysler building as much as I was by I.M. Pei's Bank of China Tower.
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Home is where I climb out of my mecha-suit-of-a-poised-persona and power down.
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I love how British people call Asian people 'oriental' unless they're talking about Indian people, who get to be called Asian.
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Twenty-thirteen was the year I got super into SoulCycle.
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The notion of this 'emergency contact' is, Do you have someone who is holding you down? Do you know where to go if you're feeling bad? I keep likening it to assigning yourself a godparent of your choosing.
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The thing about living in New York as a writer is that you hit that age where it feels like everyone has a book all at the same time. It's like that one year where you're invited to twenty weddings.
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I'm great at leaving. I am less talented at getting left, though I should be better, given how much it's happened.
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My sweet spot as a writer and, especially, as an essayist is sub-1500 words.