i'm fine.
i'm fine i'm fine i'm fine i'm fine.
i'm actually feeling ok, so far... i had a moment of anxiety last night as i considered the last cigarette i'd smoke for at least a year, but then i chided myself about how dramatic i was being. as i'm chiding myself now. it didn't even taste that good, and i was just smoking for the sake of smoking.
smoking sucks. my lungs have gotten that heavy out of breath feeling--at nights, in the mornings, and randomly throughout the day. it's not worth it. it stinks. it's been making my tongue feel raw and yucky. it's disgusting. and blah. don't need it.
somehow, surprisingly, i have not yet gotten to the point where the smell of cigarette smoke is appealing. it's still grossing me out a little. although, i'm sure i'll have my moments where i can't bear it b/c it hurts, it sucks, and i just want to scream forever b/c i want to smoke so bad.
today, i was thinking about why i was quitting in the first place and it made me want to cry. my fucking principled: "no more degradation!" harrangue. damnit. i guess i had to deliver at some point.
obviously, my past has a few sharp and raw and tragic points but... i don't know. today, i wondered about today. i wondered about what his life is like. i wondered about his family, his mother, his brothers, my sister-in-law, and their baby--my "ex"-niece, Jael.
i'm curious about what's happened to the photos of him and i. in his mother's and his brother's house. i wonder if i have fallen out of their photo albums--i actually started one for my brother and sister-in-law b/c i was always the one w/ the camera. i organized dozens of photos of Jael from when she was born and of "family" gatherings. i left empty leaves for future photos which they began to fill over the years.
there were pictures of their awful ramshackled little farmhouse on the day that they moved out into the next little farmhouse. i was there when Jael was getting spaghettios all over her chubbed cheeks.
when she was becoming able to steady herself into a standing position in her crib, i snapped a shot of her smile between the bars.
i remember when she began to form words. Jael used to call me "Auntie Mohni" b/c she couldn't pronounce the "r" in my name.
i remember the first time her eyes her lit up w/ recognition when she saw me. eventually, she would come tearing over to me, thrilling that i had come to play.
i watched her curious machinations many times in that out of the way farmhouse. the breezes floating in, soft sunlight on the floor, her mother and i stretched out on that cushy brown couch. talking life.
i wonder if Jael will remember me. i am curious what her parents have said about me and her uncle. i am certain that i was an unusual figure in her life, the Korean auntie. i know that Jael was not exposed to many other Asian faces for the first few years of her life. i'll probably show up in a dream years from now and she'll wake up confused about the impossibility of an Asian aunt.
it aches a little. i wonder about today and am curious about my replacement. it's awkward, i'm sure. but their family never talked about such deep things. i'm sure his ma has removed all of those little bits of memorabilia, as to not upset the family balance.
i sent her a box of everything i could find that she had given to me over the years. all of the birthday and Christmas gifts. being the sentimental person that she is, i knew that doing this would break her heart. but, i had to do it. i don't know how a mother could stand so idly by while her son acted in such a cowardly and heinous manner. my God. how embarrassing. i'd kick my brothers' asses if they behaved that way.
but, his ma was always the balancer. she would always sweep things under the rug. like when her drunk husband would say something racist or try to do something inappropriate to me. my dear ex-father-in-law tried to lick my foot and grab my ass more than a few times. he said something disgusting about 'stroking' me to my ex. she never protested until i began to.
she stayed silent when her daughter-in-law would leave her w/ the baby all day so that she could take a nap. his ma just helplessly shrugged her shoulders when her sons would drink too much and then drive intoxicated through the woods to get more booze. she would whisper annoyances under her breath, but would pat their cheeks gently, and then cook them dinner.
don't get me wrong. she was a sweet woman whom i had grown to love over the years. but i was alarmed that she could watch her son completely fall apart in the way that he did and not insist that he get some help. thus, i returned everything i could find that she had given me. i told her that it was clear to me that she had never seen me to be the "daughter" that she had claimed i was. how fucking tragic, huh?
but, i'm sure life is moving on for them as mine is. at some point, i will be just a strange, incongruent memory of a person who entered for 9 years, and then left.
our parents. they had such expectations for us, our family. they had such ideas about what our lives would be like (what we were supposed to be) and the future of our bizarre dynasty. we could see it all, in a strange and awful way, but it was the motion picture of other people's lives.
neither of us really wanted it b/c of the dysfunctionality that existed between us. we knew we couldn't have that life and actually be happy in the state we were in. but he never wanted to talk about anything. and you should know, i really really did try to make him.
so, no more degradation, right? it's been a year since all of that horrible trauma began. i don't need to smoke anymore. i should grow and be better to myself, huh?
i just ache a little about it all.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
jet lagging, forever
jet lag. i've been walking through my days in a dreamlike state for the past 5 days. my head has felt hollow--like when i've gotten water in my ear and hear a echoing gong w/ every step i take.
i've wandered into my little glass office and sat back on that swivelly office chair and felt strange detachment from my surroundings. i've awoken several times each night to various states of the moon or the sun's movement filtering through the shifting curtains and the windows. almost everytime i've awoken, i've been caught w/ a sense of confusion: am i in Dublin? am i in Galway? where the hell am i? oh wait. i'm in Korea.
this has been a little dizzying and disconcerting and has caused me to wonder what it all means. i want to soar and fly off the edge into the forever clouds that carry all of my aspirations. if only i had enough money to do it all. blah. i hate money.
but, as i've been having conversations w/ my loved ones in Korea about their plans following the termination of their year-long contracts, i've begun to have both apprehension and excitement about the future unknown. they will all be leaving and i will have to figure out where i'm going to relieve my itchy feet. i was looking at international jobs online today and i realized that possibilities are fairly far-reaching.
i've got this master's degree in an arena of work that isn't necessarily what i want to commit to. it kills me a little that this is the source of my financial woes, and the reason why i cannot just go back to school for medicine or something. but there were jobs in Spain and Japan and Vietnam and Chile and the United Arab Emerits? i really could see the world and live in it if i wanted. getting a English teaching certificate isn't very difficult.
i think i have to stay in Korea for at least another year in order to get this language a little more fully mastered, but i'm open to anything i think. scary. exciting. exhausting. where the hell am i again?
oh right. i'm in Seoul.
i've wandered into my little glass office and sat back on that swivelly office chair and felt strange detachment from my surroundings. i've awoken several times each night to various states of the moon or the sun's movement filtering through the shifting curtains and the windows. almost everytime i've awoken, i've been caught w/ a sense of confusion: am i in Dublin? am i in Galway? where the hell am i? oh wait. i'm in Korea.
this has been a little dizzying and disconcerting and has caused me to wonder what it all means. i want to soar and fly off the edge into the forever clouds that carry all of my aspirations. if only i had enough money to do it all. blah. i hate money.
but, as i've been having conversations w/ my loved ones in Korea about their plans following the termination of their year-long contracts, i've begun to have both apprehension and excitement about the future unknown. they will all be leaving and i will have to figure out where i'm going to relieve my itchy feet. i was looking at international jobs online today and i realized that possibilities are fairly far-reaching.
i've got this master's degree in an arena of work that isn't necessarily what i want to commit to. it kills me a little that this is the source of my financial woes, and the reason why i cannot just go back to school for medicine or something. but there were jobs in Spain and Japan and Vietnam and Chile and the United Arab Emerits? i really could see the world and live in it if i wanted. getting a English teaching certificate isn't very difficult.
i think i have to stay in Korea for at least another year in order to get this language a little more fully mastered, but i'm open to anything i think. scary. exciting. exhausting. where the hell am i again?
oh right. i'm in Seoul.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
journal:5 23.09
i'm writing this in a state of jet lag and a deep cut on my right index finger so i suspect that my thoughts will meander to and fro. forgive me.
after 16 hours of traveling, 2 hours of laundry, and then about 10 hours of running around and catching up w/ friends, i found myself walking alone through the dewy night walkways of Yonsei University yet again. i felt a strange, but great wondrous relief to be "home".
i guess home is where all of my stuff is at. but, it's more than that. there is all kinds of displacement that plagues my sensibilities about where "home" is, but, just before i left for Ireland, my little brother--who is still living in Chicago--just told me that he's thinking of leaving the family home base.
so, i guess "home" is wherever i can place my bags and find a little bit of love. this causes me a bit of a melancholy and panicky feeling, but, also some excitement at the same time. i've said that often, but here it is again. i guess i just need to wear in this pair of jeans b/c i think these actually might be my perfect pair of everyday jeans.
leaving on this trip was strange and miraculous at the same time. i cannot believe that just a year ago, i had been planning a trip to Southern Illinois w/ my ex. the long road trip to a wedding that ended in a horrendous 5 hour drive home--going 90 miles an hour, weeping at the wheel. i can't believe i didn't accidentally drive off the road that day.
this was 51 weeks ago.
so much has happened since then. how cliche to say that it feels like a lifetime ago, but it was. hell. from hell and back and numerous bizarre side trips into the wilderness of seemingly haphazard choices. but they weren't. i know that God brought me here. i have done many things in a not so "Christian-like" manner, but i feel closer to God these days than i have in years. maybe this is b/c i have no choice but to rely on Him in a more authentic way, despite any of my questionable actions.
i don't know... all i know is that God wants me to be happy. i know that following His standards work in an ideal sense. and even in an un-ideal sense. but i believe that my interpretation of His standards has been pretty limited b/c of the culture i was brought up in. the "churched" culture that kept me understanding things in a certain way.
but i've been realizing how BIG God is. and how *beyond* my understanding. seeing more of the world and living in a different part of the world has helped me to break free from some of those ways of thinking. i know that this might sound like God is inconsistent, but i'm coming to understand just how solid He is and how frail and inconsistent my personhood is. my heart and mind changes as swiftly as a piece of ash that falls off my smoke and drifts on the loud sound currents of my speakers. (my iPod's on random shuffle right now. this is fun.)
i find it lovely that i traveled for hours on end to get to an island in the middle of everywhere. that i ran around a few random cities and saw mountains and crazy landscapes and bodies of water that my eyes have never before beheld. that i touched life w/ an old friend and held hands and met lips w/ a lover of mine. what does this all mean? hell if i know.
all i know is that i'm still young and still kinda pretty and my eyes can still see, my ears can still hear, my legs can still shake in the forward motion, and my heartbeat can still quicken in the face of beauty. these moments are all astounding blessings that God has granted to me as i've stomped my path on this rock.
i'm trying to write now b/c i know that in a week's time i'm going to freak out b/c i won't be able to hold a cigarette above my keyboard while i type. i'll probably have to stop typing b/c i'll be so pissed about it all.
i guess i'll talk more generally about my trip for now b/c i don't have the fortitude nor enough formulation power in my brain to keep it all together... things were interesting... and great? and fun... all regressive in a lot of ways, but maybe this is what i'm made of anyway? regression isn't all that bad as long as you don't lose yourself? i'm really hungry for the experience of travel and seeing the world. i want to soak it all in and feel it ALL.
some random snapshots of some things that come to mind--there are too many to give it justice, however:
sweet, funny, covert kisses in a hostel bunk; feeling slightly guilty that this might've been making others feel uncomfortable
feeling warm as i stared at an unfathomable vast valley of stone walls and florescent greenness
the bluest waves running hard, splashing into craggy rock
stumbling across the ruins of a castle in the middle of nowhere
the crooked limestone competing w/ the grand tufts of everywhere grasses
the pale blue moonlight falling across my vision in the hostel through an open sky light
spattering rain against the side bus windows while lying across a backseat, shushing lips
a moment of dizziness as i stared over the edge of the Cliffs of Moher into the ocean--so high above the soaring seagulls that they looked like little white flecks dancing in the wind
the racing clouds that quickly dictated the sunnyness or rainyness of the moment to moment to moment
after 16 hours of traveling, 2 hours of laundry, and then about 10 hours of running around and catching up w/ friends, i found myself walking alone through the dewy night walkways of Yonsei University yet again. i felt a strange, but great wondrous relief to be "home".
i guess home is where all of my stuff is at. but, it's more than that. there is all kinds of displacement that plagues my sensibilities about where "home" is, but, just before i left for Ireland, my little brother--who is still living in Chicago--just told me that he's thinking of leaving the family home base.
so, i guess "home" is wherever i can place my bags and find a little bit of love. this causes me a bit of a melancholy and panicky feeling, but, also some excitement at the same time. i've said that often, but here it is again. i guess i just need to wear in this pair of jeans b/c i think these actually might be my perfect pair of everyday jeans.
leaving on this trip was strange and miraculous at the same time. i cannot believe that just a year ago, i had been planning a trip to Southern Illinois w/ my ex. the long road trip to a wedding that ended in a horrendous 5 hour drive home--going 90 miles an hour, weeping at the wheel. i can't believe i didn't accidentally drive off the road that day.
this was 51 weeks ago.
so much has happened since then. how cliche to say that it feels like a lifetime ago, but it was. hell. from hell and back and numerous bizarre side trips into the wilderness of seemingly haphazard choices. but they weren't. i know that God brought me here. i have done many things in a not so "Christian-like" manner, but i feel closer to God these days than i have in years. maybe this is b/c i have no choice but to rely on Him in a more authentic way, despite any of my questionable actions.
i don't know... all i know is that God wants me to be happy. i know that following His standards work in an ideal sense. and even in an un-ideal sense. but i believe that my interpretation of His standards has been pretty limited b/c of the culture i was brought up in. the "churched" culture that kept me understanding things in a certain way.
but i've been realizing how BIG God is. and how *beyond* my understanding. seeing more of the world and living in a different part of the world has helped me to break free from some of those ways of thinking. i know that this might sound like God is inconsistent, but i'm coming to understand just how solid He is and how frail and inconsistent my personhood is. my heart and mind changes as swiftly as a piece of ash that falls off my smoke and drifts on the loud sound currents of my speakers. (my iPod's on random shuffle right now. this is fun.)
i find it lovely that i traveled for hours on end to get to an island in the middle of everywhere. that i ran around a few random cities and saw mountains and crazy landscapes and bodies of water that my eyes have never before beheld. that i touched life w/ an old friend and held hands and met lips w/ a lover of mine. what does this all mean? hell if i know.
all i know is that i'm still young and still kinda pretty and my eyes can still see, my ears can still hear, my legs can still shake in the forward motion, and my heartbeat can still quicken in the face of beauty. these moments are all astounding blessings that God has granted to me as i've stomped my path on this rock.
i'm trying to write now b/c i know that in a week's time i'm going to freak out b/c i won't be able to hold a cigarette above my keyboard while i type. i'll probably have to stop typing b/c i'll be so pissed about it all.
i guess i'll talk more generally about my trip for now b/c i don't have the fortitude nor enough formulation power in my brain to keep it all together... things were interesting... and great? and fun... all regressive in a lot of ways, but maybe this is what i'm made of anyway? regression isn't all that bad as long as you don't lose yourself? i'm really hungry for the experience of travel and seeing the world. i want to soak it all in and feel it ALL.
some random snapshots of some things that come to mind--there are too many to give it justice, however:
sweet, funny, covert kisses in a hostel bunk; feeling slightly guilty that this might've been making others feel uncomfortable
feeling warm as i stared at an unfathomable vast valley of stone walls and florescent greenness
the bluest waves running hard, splashing into craggy rock
stumbling across the ruins of a castle in the middle of nowhere
the crooked limestone competing w/ the grand tufts of everywhere grasses
the pale blue moonlight falling across my vision in the hostel through an open sky light
spattering rain against the side bus windows while lying across a backseat, shushing lips
a moment of dizziness as i stared over the edge of the Cliffs of Moher into the ocean--so high above the soaring seagulls that they looked like little white flecks dancing in the wind
the racing clouds that quickly dictated the sunnyness or rainyness of the moment to moment to moment
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
fools' dialogue
whoa. i'm going to keep this one short, but i have to mention that i went to the "3rd World DJ Festival" this weekend.
what the hell? it was a fucking *rave*. ridiculous.
i had fun dancing my ass off like i usually do, but oh boy, did this bring back memories from over a decade ago.
random costumes: lions and tigers and bears
oh my! is that a sexy nurse?
and a lot of shirtless boys walking around
flexing their muscles
glow sticks everywhere--in hands, around necks and wrists, twisted up in hair
stuffed animals
helter skelter dancing
passed out boys and girls
lips on cheeks and lips and hugs and
bright lipstick and eyeshadow glitter and
free love everywhere, honeys!
i felt a little old--though there were people my age there. i just couldn't believe i accidentally ended up @ a rave. it was *interesting* and some kinds of fun, certainly, but i don't know if i would've gone intentionally had i realized what it was. there were 10s of thousands of people there.
i haven't been to an outdoor party of this kind and this scope since high school. no drugs though (as far as i could see), but a LOT of soju and alcohol and drunk people. i stayed sober and just admired the phenomenal spectacle of it all.
i guess i could talk more about the party itself, but i've already described my "rave" experiences and blah blah a lifetime ago. so i'll just tell a terribly dumb story. there was alcohol, me in a cute dress, and a terribly drunk young man:
"baby, you're so beautiful." "baby, you're the only woman for me" (this is about 4 minutes into our conversation. i played along b/c he was making me laugh.)
"can i just love you? will you let me just love you?"
love me? you're drunk.
"i'm not drunk. i swear. can't you just let me love you?"
fine. sure sweetie, you can love me.
i really wondered how long this conversation would go. i went along w/ it b/c i was tired from dancing and was entertained by his persistence:
"baby, can i be honest w/ you? i really like you."
like me? you don't even know me. i could be a total bitch and you would have no idea.
"i can tell you're not a bitch"
how? tell me right now.
"i really like you... c'mon. stop laughing. look into my eyes. you really understand me."
i understand you? i understand that you're drunk.
"i swear, i'm not drunk."
you're going to wake up tomorrow and feel ridiculous about what you remember from this conversation.
"baby. i won't. b/c i really like you."
again, you don't even know me.
"i do know you. i get you. stop laughing."
tell me my favorite color. and again. you're going to have to remove that hand from my ass.
"i can see it in your eyes."
ahahahahaha!! you can see *what* in my eyes?
"that you get me. that you understand me."
i understand that you're drunk and horny.
i couldn't tell him to fuck off b/c he was friends of friends' friends. and, it was a non-threatening situation that really made me laugh.
the surrealness of the setting and the slutty diarrhea that came out of his mouth made me feel like i was in a very bizarre dream. at some point, i said that and told him i would write about him, but i had had enough.
i've written about these kinds of conversations before, but every time i sit down to do it, it feels like deja vu. women are amazing, and i'm sure some men are, but why do i keep on having these creepy man-whore interactions? is it something that i'm putting out there? am i just a magnet for dirty disgusting men? i suppose y'all can say i shouldn't even engage, but this is field study for me.
dragging him back to the group of our mutual friends, i sat him down on one side of the group and made my way to the other side. but he edged back on over:
"girl, i just want to spend some time w/ you. you know, you're a woman, i'm a man..."
i don't know what you're getting at for sure, but i'm hoping for all things decent, you're not saying what i think you're saying.
"girl, i live in Sinchon too. you wanna go back to my place?"
huh? excuse me? for what exactly? tell me right now.
"you know for what. do i have to explain it to you?"
i'm asking you to, b/c i'm hoping you're going to backpedal. i cannot believe we're having this conversation.
"baby, you're just so beautiful."
you've told me. thank you for your many compliments, but please know that you're not going to get any from me tonight.
"girl, i could fuck that shit up."
uh? huh?! tell me what that means?
"baby, you know what that means."
please tell me that you're saying you could beat my ass.
"you're really not going to let me love you?"
i turned to face him directly. i looked deeply into his eyes and gently touched the side of his face: sweetie. baby. darling. let me tell you something very clearly, b/c you are very drunk and i don't know if something is not connecting properly. are you ready? (he nodded.) please know that there is not even the remotest possibility that i would even kiss you. not even the smallest part of me is interested in getting into bed w/ you. and honestly, i've been pretty nice and have played along, but i'm really not planning to sit next to you after i'm done w/ this sentence.
fucking cartoons. these guys are fucking cartoons.
what the hell? it was a fucking *rave*. ridiculous.
i had fun dancing my ass off like i usually do, but oh boy, did this bring back memories from over a decade ago.
random costumes: lions and tigers and bears
oh my! is that a sexy nurse?
and a lot of shirtless boys walking around
flexing their muscles
glow sticks everywhere--in hands, around necks and wrists, twisted up in hair
stuffed animals
helter skelter dancing
passed out boys and girls
lips on cheeks and lips and hugs and
bright lipstick and eyeshadow glitter and
free love everywhere, honeys!
i felt a little old--though there were people my age there. i just couldn't believe i accidentally ended up @ a rave. it was *interesting* and some kinds of fun, certainly, but i don't know if i would've gone intentionally had i realized what it was. there were 10s of thousands of people there.
i haven't been to an outdoor party of this kind and this scope since high school. no drugs though (as far as i could see), but a LOT of soju and alcohol and drunk people. i stayed sober and just admired the phenomenal spectacle of it all.
i guess i could talk more about the party itself, but i've already described my "rave" experiences and blah blah a lifetime ago. so i'll just tell a terribly dumb story. there was alcohol, me in a cute dress, and a terribly drunk young man:
"baby, you're so beautiful." "baby, you're the only woman for me" (this is about 4 minutes into our conversation. i played along b/c he was making me laugh.)
"can i just love you? will you let me just love you?"
love me? you're drunk.
"i'm not drunk. i swear. can't you just let me love you?"
fine. sure sweetie, you can love me.
i really wondered how long this conversation would go. i went along w/ it b/c i was tired from dancing and was entertained by his persistence:
"baby, can i be honest w/ you? i really like you."
like me? you don't even know me. i could be a total bitch and you would have no idea.
"i can tell you're not a bitch"
how? tell me right now.
"i really like you... c'mon. stop laughing. look into my eyes. you really understand me."
i understand you? i understand that you're drunk.
"i swear, i'm not drunk."
you're going to wake up tomorrow and feel ridiculous about what you remember from this conversation.
"baby. i won't. b/c i really like you."
again, you don't even know me.
"i do know you. i get you. stop laughing."
tell me my favorite color. and again. you're going to have to remove that hand from my ass.
"i can see it in your eyes."
ahahahahaha!! you can see *what* in my eyes?
"that you get me. that you understand me."
i understand that you're drunk and horny.
i couldn't tell him to fuck off b/c he was friends of friends' friends. and, it was a non-threatening situation that really made me laugh.
the surrealness of the setting and the slutty diarrhea that came out of his mouth made me feel like i was in a very bizarre dream. at some point, i said that and told him i would write about him, but i had had enough.
i've written about these kinds of conversations before, but every time i sit down to do it, it feels like deja vu. women are amazing, and i'm sure some men are, but why do i keep on having these creepy man-whore interactions? is it something that i'm putting out there? am i just a magnet for dirty disgusting men? i suppose y'all can say i shouldn't even engage, but this is field study for me.
dragging him back to the group of our mutual friends, i sat him down on one side of the group and made my way to the other side. but he edged back on over:
"girl, i just want to spend some time w/ you. you know, you're a woman, i'm a man..."
i don't know what you're getting at for sure, but i'm hoping for all things decent, you're not saying what i think you're saying.
"girl, i live in Sinchon too. you wanna go back to my place?"
huh? excuse me? for what exactly? tell me right now.
"you know for what. do i have to explain it to you?"
i'm asking you to, b/c i'm hoping you're going to backpedal. i cannot believe we're having this conversation.
"baby, you're just so beautiful."
you've told me. thank you for your many compliments, but please know that you're not going to get any from me tonight.
"girl, i could fuck that shit up."
uh? huh?! tell me what that means?
"baby, you know what that means."
please tell me that you're saying you could beat my ass.
"you're really not going to let me love you?"
i turned to face him directly. i looked deeply into his eyes and gently touched the side of his face: sweetie. baby. darling. let me tell you something very clearly, b/c you are very drunk and i don't know if something is not connecting properly. are you ready? (he nodded.) please know that there is not even the remotest possibility that i would even kiss you. not even the smallest part of me is interested in getting into bed w/ you. and honestly, i've been pretty nice and have played along, but i'm really not planning to sit next to you after i'm done w/ this sentence.
fucking cartoons. these guys are fucking cartoons.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
commentary about the femme
growing up in a Korean American home w/ two brothers, i experienced much tension in figuring out my female identity. my 엄마 was/is an amazing hard-working Korean immigrant woman; she ground garlic by hand, made huge glass jars of kimchi, and ran the household by the clockwork in her brain. every morning for at least 15 years, she cooked breakfast and a reheatable dinner before she left for an 11 hour shift to the any mart that she and my 아빠 owned.
her picture of a correctly operating household had these intense gender specific rules. a woman really needed to 'know her place'. she needed to be able to cook a feast, serve her men, not speak back or raise any objections, and then wash the dishes afterwards. and of course, she expected me to know my place as well.
this did not bode well. i would scowl while i served, talked back when i was right, and raised hell about things that did not make sense to me.
while i washed the dishes.
basically, i'm saying that i was bitchy and rebellious and had something to prove. not only did i develop a disdain for men and the oppressive male-dominant Korean culture, i also developed a disdain for women. these constructs of the submissive, simpering, Stepford women were jammed into my face and smothered me into angry tears. it disgusted me.
i'll admit, sometimes i secretly wanted to play Barbies and My Little Ponies, but we were too poor to afford them. plus, the feminine was inter-laden into those toys and i didn't want those associations. i was absolutely determined to never be 'girlie'.
i hung out w/ my 오빠 and all of his male friends throughout childhood. i had a few female friends, but it always seemed to get so ~complicated~. boys just wanted to play. the running around and the scraped knees and the skateboards and the martial arts. i wanted to be a tough bad ass like the boys.
when my brothers went in to start TaeKwonDo classes, i begged my parents to let me join as well. they wavered and hesitated, but eventually, they gave in as i rationally laid out my arguments. there are a world of those big bad boys out there. they might try to take advantage of a little girl like me. i need to be able to protect myself, right?
i think the prospect of preserving my chastity superseded their concerns about my tomboyish inclinations. the TaeKwonDo place converted their storage area into a girl's changing room b/c i joined. a few other girls came into class after this ground-breaking move.
anyway, as a girl, other girls made me crazy. there always seemed to be this underlying game--this quiet, jealous fight to be... i dunno--the most feminine? the most desirable? the most... something?
i never wanted to play, but young girls don't really have a choice of whether or not they want to be a player. the social dynamics fill up the space around you and you just end up responding b/c you're not sure what other options you have.
and as it is w/ most games, you want to win.
but, friendships w/ guys eventually got complicated as well. you think you're buddies. you've seen each other knee deep in swamps and climbing trees and building forts and playing football. but then there is this imperceptible shift in the energies, and getting tackled in the snow doesn't feel as innocent anymore. that subtle shift ends up coloring every interaction.
and suddenly, those bullshit complicated feelings get involved.
though i think that deep platonic friendships w/ the opposite sex can certainly exist, there is always the possibility of that delicious swirling chemistry to fuck it all up. sadly, this has deteriorated a number of male friendships i have had throughout my life.
i remember i had a girl friend in grade school who was sweet and pretty and we connected on a seemingly deeper level. this was astounding to me b/c most girls annoyed the hell out of me. our friendship continued and strengthened into high school. but, of course, a boy got involved, and our relationship tattered; those shredded pieces flew away on currents of frustration and feelings of betrayal.
the boy is absolutely inconsequential at this point, and was fairly insignificant even at the time (worst kisser of my life actually). but, when she began dating him a week after i broke up w/ him, i couldn't handle her disloyalty. it was that fucking game. i knew she wasn't interested in him as a person. her interest was piqued, simply b/c i had dated him.
and she wondered if she could get him.
and of course she could. c'mon. isn't hard to hook a horny teenage boy.
like i said, even though you don't want to play that game, it's hard not to defend yourself when another woman is fighting and scratching out your eyes w/ her nails. for a long time, i avoided deeper friendships w/ most females. most of the intense problems came about over a boy, and i was too exhausted to fight over trivialities. most men sucked anyway.
it took me a long time to get over my resentments about women. i actually resented my own feminine tendencies. but, when i got to college and then moved into my adult life, i began meeting women that shared similar attitudes. maybe we're the ones for whom it eventually occurred: the bruises and broken friendships just weren't worth it.
"oh, check out that one."
yeah, not bad.
"you think he's cute?"
sure--nice height. ok hair. pretty eyes.
"you want him?"
i don't know. you want him? 'cause if you do, go for it.
"nah. i don't want him."
you sure? b/c he's checking out that sexy bod of yours.
"he is?... tell me what he's doing now."
still checking you out of course. your hair looks fabulous by the way.
"yeah? should i go talk to him? or show him a little leg?"
smile in his direction, sweetie. but make him come here.
"hahahaha! how dumb this all is... you know i love you, right?"
of course you do. and i love the hell out of you.
it surprised me that by the time i was in my mid-20s, most of my closest friends were women. part of that is due to the fact that i was w/ a pretty insecure man. on the other hand, i began realizing just how amazing women are. it's not that i did not have these insights before, but honestly, the depth and nurture and love that i've been able to experience w/ women is something very special.
for the past week, i've spent exorbitant amounts of time w/ women and have had a comfortable happy peace about being w/ them and being myself.
there need not be anything complicated involved w/ good women. we can just love each other, have pillow fights, stuff our faces, and complain about our bodies and the psychosis of men. we can put makeup on each others faces, go on a shopping spree, laugh our asses off, and comment on the shape of each others breasts w/o impunity. we can talk life and call each other beautiful--and really really mean it--w/ no strings attached.
or maybe is a huge ball of string? maybe we're actually tangling ourselves up in a mass of string while we cuddle and cry and talk sweet to each other.
women. i love them. and i'm beginning to love being one.
her picture of a correctly operating household had these intense gender specific rules. a woman really needed to 'know her place'. she needed to be able to cook a feast, serve her men, not speak back or raise any objections, and then wash the dishes afterwards. and of course, she expected me to know my place as well.
this did not bode well. i would scowl while i served, talked back when i was right, and raised hell about things that did not make sense to me.
while i washed the dishes.
basically, i'm saying that i was bitchy and rebellious and had something to prove. not only did i develop a disdain for men and the oppressive male-dominant Korean culture, i also developed a disdain for women. these constructs of the submissive, simpering, Stepford women were jammed into my face and smothered me into angry tears. it disgusted me.
i'll admit, sometimes i secretly wanted to play Barbies and My Little Ponies, but we were too poor to afford them. plus, the feminine was inter-laden into those toys and i didn't want those associations. i was absolutely determined to never be 'girlie'.
i hung out w/ my 오빠 and all of his male friends throughout childhood. i had a few female friends, but it always seemed to get so ~complicated~. boys just wanted to play. the running around and the scraped knees and the skateboards and the martial arts. i wanted to be a tough bad ass like the boys.
when my brothers went in to start TaeKwonDo classes, i begged my parents to let me join as well. they wavered and hesitated, but eventually, they gave in as i rationally laid out my arguments. there are a world of those big bad boys out there. they might try to take advantage of a little girl like me. i need to be able to protect myself, right?
i think the prospect of preserving my chastity superseded their concerns about my tomboyish inclinations. the TaeKwonDo place converted their storage area into a girl's changing room b/c i joined. a few other girls came into class after this ground-breaking move.
anyway, as a girl, other girls made me crazy. there always seemed to be this underlying game--this quiet, jealous fight to be... i dunno--the most feminine? the most desirable? the most... something?
i never wanted to play, but young girls don't really have a choice of whether or not they want to be a player. the social dynamics fill up the space around you and you just end up responding b/c you're not sure what other options you have.
and as it is w/ most games, you want to win.
but, friendships w/ guys eventually got complicated as well. you think you're buddies. you've seen each other knee deep in swamps and climbing trees and building forts and playing football. but then there is this imperceptible shift in the energies, and getting tackled in the snow doesn't feel as innocent anymore. that subtle shift ends up coloring every interaction.
and suddenly, those bullshit complicated feelings get involved.
though i think that deep platonic friendships w/ the opposite sex can certainly exist, there is always the possibility of that delicious swirling chemistry to fuck it all up. sadly, this has deteriorated a number of male friendships i have had throughout my life.
i remember i had a girl friend in grade school who was sweet and pretty and we connected on a seemingly deeper level. this was astounding to me b/c most girls annoyed the hell out of me. our friendship continued and strengthened into high school. but, of course, a boy got involved, and our relationship tattered; those shredded pieces flew away on currents of frustration and feelings of betrayal.
the boy is absolutely inconsequential at this point, and was fairly insignificant even at the time (worst kisser of my life actually). but, when she began dating him a week after i broke up w/ him, i couldn't handle her disloyalty. it was that fucking game. i knew she wasn't interested in him as a person. her interest was piqued, simply b/c i had dated him.
and she wondered if she could get him.
and of course she could. c'mon. isn't hard to hook a horny teenage boy.
like i said, even though you don't want to play that game, it's hard not to defend yourself when another woman is fighting and scratching out your eyes w/ her nails. for a long time, i avoided deeper friendships w/ most females. most of the intense problems came about over a boy, and i was too exhausted to fight over trivialities. most men sucked anyway.
it took me a long time to get over my resentments about women. i actually resented my own feminine tendencies. but, when i got to college and then moved into my adult life, i began meeting women that shared similar attitudes. maybe we're the ones for whom it eventually occurred: the bruises and broken friendships just weren't worth it.
"oh, check out that one."
yeah, not bad.
"you think he's cute?"
sure--nice height. ok hair. pretty eyes.
"you want him?"
i don't know. you want him? 'cause if you do, go for it.
"nah. i don't want him."
you sure? b/c he's checking out that sexy bod of yours.
"he is?... tell me what he's doing now."
still checking you out of course. your hair looks fabulous by the way.
"yeah? should i go talk to him? or show him a little leg?"
smile in his direction, sweetie. but make him come here.
"hahahaha! how dumb this all is... you know i love you, right?"
of course you do. and i love the hell out of you.
it surprised me that by the time i was in my mid-20s, most of my closest friends were women. part of that is due to the fact that i was w/ a pretty insecure man. on the other hand, i began realizing just how amazing women are. it's not that i did not have these insights before, but honestly, the depth and nurture and love that i've been able to experience w/ women is something very special.
for the past week, i've spent exorbitant amounts of time w/ women and have had a comfortable happy peace about being w/ them and being myself.
there need not be anything complicated involved w/ good women. we can just love each other, have pillow fights, stuff our faces, and complain about our bodies and the psychosis of men. we can put makeup on each others faces, go on a shopping spree, laugh our asses off, and comment on the shape of each others breasts w/o impunity. we can talk life and call each other beautiful--and really really mean it--w/ no strings attached.
or maybe is a huge ball of string? maybe we're actually tangling ourselves up in a mass of string while we cuddle and cry and talk sweet to each other.
women. i love them. and i'm beginning to love being one.
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