It's raining pink

When you raid a New Yorker’s closet (a.k.a. bedroom), you would find that 80% (or more) of the fabulous pieces are black. Personally, for those days when I don’t know what to wear, you would always find me in a black dress or a black shirt over jeans, or a black coat to gussy up a rather laid-back ensamble. I am used to that—black makes my wardrobe wholly versatile, it’s my to-go treasure.

But when I was walking the streets of Shanghai, Suozhou, Hangzhuo, and Poutoushan, I only see one dominant color: PINK. Amidst the low-30s temperature in China (when it’s mid-60s in NYC. Yeah, it sucks) I still can’t help myself but take pictures of beautiful ladies in pink coats, shoes, or purses in different shades.

  I can only imagine their closets.

I really don't blame Peter Pan

When I was five I don’t want anything more than growing up. But now that I’m a grown-up—needless to say, paying my own bills as well—there are those days that I don’t want anything more but to be five again. It’s impossible, of course.

But there’s this one place, no matter how overrated it could sound sometimes, that just makes me as close as I can be to being five once again. And for a reason I still yet have to figure out, this place indeed is the happiest place on earth. Maybe it’s magic. But maybe it’s because here…

I am with my family for the sake of just being out there and having fun.

I can just walk, look around, and be amazed quite often.

The castle I was playing with when I was a kid grew a lot bigger. Way bigger.

I could look ridiculous but nobody cares. Not even me.

I can climb a tree house yet again. But it has never been this convenient.

I get to goof around with my brother just like when we were kids.

I see my parents also becoming five again.

People don’t judge you. 

Bears hug you.

I was reminded of my dream—and once again believed in it.

It’s almost a year since I went to Disney World, but I still have that wonderful whimsical feeling I got there.

I guess it would never grow old.