Hello~!

I spent the last week of December and the very end of the year on a business trip, then went to Chicago right after New Year’s.

I did a lot of things while I was there, but I wouldn’t exactly say Chicago inspired me in some grand way. It was more like I kept finding interesting people, odd little stores, and small moments scattered around a big city. That was probably the fun of it.

And once again I confirmed something about myself:

I really do like the countryside better.

Very glad I fought so hard against being transferred to Chicago for work.

Excellent decision, past me.

Still, for the end of the year, Chicago gave me a lot to do.

I watched the 2026 fireworks after getting absolutely destroyed for not properly reporting my corporate card expenses.

Very festive.

Nothing says HAPPY NEW YEAR like frantically sorting receipts while being scolded.

I somehow got everything into vaguely acceptable shape, escaped, and watched the fireworks while still emotionally hiccupping from the whole ordeal.

A friend from my old Pantos days had told me, “Christine, you HAVE to see New Year’s fireworks in Chicago,” and honestly, she was right. They were very flashy, the city looked clean, and the whole atmosphere was genuinely nice.

Another friend said she was going to watch from the main Chicago River area, and in hindsight I probably should have gone there too.

But I watched from Navy Pier because I assumed the river would be insanely crowded.

Maybe next year I’ll end up watching from in front of Trump Tower.

Who knows.

My life has shown very little commitment to geographical consistency.

A day or two later, I saw Chicago at night.

I had gone downtown to buy stickers and pens for journaling—because I’ve recently fallen into a fountain-pen phase, which is obviously a completely necessary development—and after shopping I walked outside and looked at the skyline.

And the feeling was… strange.

Years ago, even just seeing Manhattan, or honestly even somewhere like Syracuse, was enough to make me feel dazzled because it looked like a CITY.

I used to get genuinely excited.

Now I was standing in Chicago, looking at a very proper skyline, and thinking:

is it possible to feel THIS little?

I was honestly surprised by myself.

If the version of me from five years ago had been standing there, she would have completely lost her mind.

She would have been thrilled.

Probably taking fifty-seven photos of the same building.

Current me was like: Oh, nice! Lol

Then I went to the Art Institute of Chicago.

The entrance was really cool, especially the staircase structure. I liked the way it pulled you in and made the building itself feel like part of the exhibition.

And then I went inside.

And somehow everything became…

not that interesting.

I don’t know why.

Maybe I was tired.

Maybe my brain was being difficult.

Maybe art museums also have chemistry and this one simply did not flirt with me.

Out of the bigger museums I’ve been to, Philadelphia still might be my favourite.

That one actually held my attention.

The next day, I packed up the enormous pile of stationery I had bought and went to Plein Air Cafe.

That place has a VERY particular energy.

Not loud exactly.

More like mentally boiling.

There was a man sitting there staring into space and drawing invisible graphs in the air.

There were Americans in suits talking about politics.

Then there were two Americans enthusiastically explaining some game to each other in Chinese.

Everyone seemed deeply involved in something.

The room had the atmosphere of a dozen private obsessions happening simultaneously.

Perfect.

So naturally I went there to make my 2026 Mandal-art plan.

A plan I will absolutely not complete.

To be clear, Mandal-art is not really an execution plan for me.

It is decorative strategic fiction.

I draw the nine boxes, write things into them, make everything look balanced and intentional, and enjoy the process of arranging my future on paper.

That is the activity.

Execution is a separate department.

Still, while I was filling it out, I did feel maybe 3% like Shohei Ohtani.

A very small amount.

Enough to be dangerous.

Then Stan’s Donuts.

Apparently famous.

I actually stopped there after visiting the bookstore that I’ll get to later.

And my first reaction was:

WHY IS THIS SO SWEET!!!!!!!!!

And then some vendor/ customer called me, of course.

Because apparently even pastry has to become work-adjacent.

HAPPY NEW YEAR.

I also went shopping at Whole Foods.

And I am prepared to say something controversial:

the Chicago Whole Foods bag is prettier than the Trader Joe’s bag.

I mean this sincerely.

Then I celebrated the New Year by eating like an agricultural animal.

A lot.

Very committed.

At the same time, my nose was completely blocked from allergies and rhinitis, so I was walking around basically pouring peppermint into my nostrils.

Extremely elegant.

The tiny things in the photo are all the usual health-performance accessories: propolis, vitamin C, daily vitamin shots, etc.

The general strategy is simple:

consume enough supplements to justify eating terribly.

Let us all take care of our health and live for a very long time.

Now, I really do not want to sound like some old scholar who wears linen and discusses the decline of civilisation, but the most fun I had in Chicago was…

the bookstore.

Yes.

The bookstore.

Unabridged Bookstore.

I LOVED it.

You could immediately tell that the people there actually cared about books.

Not in the “we sell books because this is a bookstore” sense, but in the slightly obsessive sense.

Genres were carefully selected.

Books were arranged thoughtfully.

Editors had written little comments and recommendations and stuck them everywhere.

Someone had clearly spent time deciding not only what belonged on the shelf, but why.

And I kept thinking:

if I ever opened a bookstore, this is how I would want to do it.

Very curated.

Very personal.

Very someone here has opinions.

Naturally, the Korean part of me quietly surfaced and I went looking for the staff comment on Crying in H Mart.

Obviously.

And honestly?

I don’t think that editor liked it THAT much.

The note felt too broad.

Too general.

Like they had understood the assignment but not necessarily fallen in love.

I was slightly disappointed on behalf of Korea.

Completely reasonable reaction.

Then I came home and discovered that my Lego keyboard had been delivered.

And the typing feel was way better than I expected.

I normally don’t even like tactile switches that much, but this one was—

TACTILE SENSATION!!!!!!!!!!!

Very satisfying.

Tiny plastic click-clack happiness.

So that was the beginning of the year.

Chicago.

Fireworks.

Corporate card shame.

City lights that somehow didn’t make me feel what they used to.

A museum I wanted to like more.

Too-sweet donuts.

A café full of people deeply engaged in their own strange little worlds.

A Mandal-art plan I may or may not honour.

A bookstore I genuinely loved.

Peppermint directly into the nose.

And a keyboard waiting at home.

Last year was a lot.

Really.

So, good job, me.

And this year, I’ve at least looked over the general direction with my extremely decorative Mandal-art, which feels like enough for January.

January can be slow.

I can look around a little.

Then maybe in February I’ll start moving something.

I spend enough of my days doing things, fixing things, worrying about things, preparing for things, and then worrying about the preparation.

Maybe this year I can practise letting some thoughts drift past without immediately turning them into tasks.

Think a little more loosely.

Leave some room around things.

Try, where possible, to assume life will probably be okay.

Not because everything always works out perfectly.

Obviously it doesn’t.

But I would like to become the kind of person who doesn’t require proof of disaster before allowing herself to relax.

Anyway.

New year.

Happy?