the end, the beginning

it's the end of the year. i'm within about 26 hours from the beginning of 2011 and i'm feeling a little melancholia creeping into my sensibilities. on one hand, i've got so many things to look forward to--i've got a one week writing class on Jeju Island, a 2 week excursion to Indonesia, a new apartment, new job...
but on the other hand, i'm *still* just me. the same person with the same failings and issues as i had 365 days ago. it's not that i haven't grown in a lot of ways, i just have a lot of problems. i know i know: it is unrealistic to be "perfect", but it really irks me that i carry some of the same problems with me from year to year.

i wonder if i can change. if i can be different. i wonder if i'll stop having crazy dreams about my ex-husband. i wonder if i'll *do* something this coming year. i wonder if i'll be able get over this apathy that has crept into my sensibilities.

but optimism always bubbles back to the surface. as depressed and dark things are sometimes, i know that the time i have on this planet is precious. that something about Today's passing was valuable, even though i spoke to and interacted with very few people.
this new year is an opportunity for something different to happen, but i'm not fooling myself. true change is not based upon the turning of the calendar pages. it's a stumbly journey of mistakes and development and growth and fuck-ups. for now, new days will continue to dawn and the Hope that warms me when i *really* think about the universe is a mercy that i'm profoundly grateful for.

good-bye 2010. it was an aiight run. but i'm gonna cheat on you with 2011.

my life is AWESOME

i was just informed that i will be "working from home" for the next two months. i have to come into school for one week in February and submit about a semester's worth of lesson plans, but that's it. i'm already half-way done with that.
if you care about that AT ALL and/or are cognizant of what this implies in the context of the Korean educational system: i'm swearing you to secrecy! please, don't hate. that's the way that things roll, you know? sometimes you find a $100 bill on the ground and sometimes your friend does. sure, you might feel a little envious, but you wish them well and accept the pack of gum they buy you from the next convenience store you pass.

the idea of 8 weeks of freedom is a little overwhelming. what will i do with myself? unstructured time is not something i deal with very well. i'll need a project.

writingWRITINGwriting. certainly. i'm not sure what i'll write about... maybe restart my book? ugh. probably not. start a new one?

i'll be taking care of myself. sleeping a lot. eating right. cooking yummy food. oh! maybe i'll learn how to cook a new genre of food! Thai, maybe?


also, i'll definitely be working out everyday. Indonesia's in 4 weeks. i want to drop about 10 pounds, but i think i'll have to settle for about 5.

reading! (i've got about 5 unread books on my desk right now.)


categorizing my music! yikes! *so many gigs* AND!! find MORE music!

maybe i'll explore some part of Korea?!

snowboard?!

spend time with friends!

AHHHHH! LIFE IS GRAND!!!!!!!!!

4 lettered words

this REALLY is a blog about nothing.
i'm having yet another existential crisis.
yuck.

i have to be meta-cognitive and acknowledge the ridiculous nature of these quarterly moments of angst--but damnit! i hate feeling this way. my insides feel uncomfortable as i question my Purpose. i wonder if my presence on this planet has meant anything thus far. have i made any impact at all? does my Person have any value?
i blush as i reread those previous sentences. i know how self-involved i'm being--but c'mon: we ALL want to feel validated as a Being. we all grasp for meaning and hope that there is at least a minutiae of significance in our actions and our words, no?

i have to ponder if there is much that i've done since the last time this niggled my consciousness. i know how selfish i am. i chase after insatiable lusts and comforts and get pissed or retreat when something gets in my way. i gnaw on rocks, trying to fill my hunger, only to be chagrined by badly chipped teeth and the not-so-profound recognition that: rocks have no nutritional value.
it's a lesson i get to re-learn every quarter. *sigh*
...
.......
although, i have to say that i'm getting a little better when having these tantrums. i don't feel quite as dark about it all. though i'm definitely brooding about those big Questions, i know it's not the end of my world. irrespective of how troubling i find these meanderings, i always will have some Hope.

maybe that's part of what i'm supposed to be learning this time around. that i don't have to just give into all of those black feelings. that i don't need to fall into the rabbit hole of self-loathing. that resting in certain Joys is always an option.
also, i'm finding that there is a distinct correlation between my exhaustion and my angst. i always feel sucked dry and sick-of-myself-sick-of-life when i'm not really reflecting on those Joys. i don't *have to* wallow. i can remember how much people do care about me. that people like to hug me and laugh with me. that i've at least had a brief moment of connection with every important person in my life in the past 24 hours.
but more importantly, irrespective of my worst, filthy, most violent actions:
i am Loved.
i am worth Dying for.

i know. it's too simple. and inexplicable. but there it is.

my life might not always make sense to me, but knowing those things help me to keep on.
Love. and Death. big words. i know.
i've stumbled across my Purpose a number of times: if there is any Thing i am supposed to do in this life, it is to Love, even when everyone around me seems like a fucking bastard. even when i'm being a fucking bastard.
if there's anything that'll grow and grow and grow from the tiniest of seeds, it is this. Love. *really* planting Love (and even tougher--receiving this seed) softly and surely kills off that selfish beast inside of me. it changes me. it helps me to understand something about the Universe.

shit. so that's my boring conclusion: Life is my confusing hell, and Love is my only true cure.

[existential crisis averted? well, at least i've bought myself some time.]

money and a shotgun

as i mentioned, i just bought airfare to Indonesia for January. i felt a little sad right after i purchased. i know that's partly menstrual, partly financial, and partly existential.

Financial: now that i've got a uni gig, i've got to strike out on my own and actually go through the Korean machinations to rent my own apartment. the independence of that is nice because it is more Real Life, but this means i will have about ONE dime left over in March, after i pay for key money and 1st month's rent. *sigh*
considering that made me wonder a little bit about MY life. out here in Korea.

a huge part of coming out to the Motherland was to pay off my student loans. but here i am, at the end of year 2, and i'm still 46K in debt. i've probably sent home about 10K this past year, but somehow none of that got applied to my loans.
i needed to help my parents do *this*, help my unemployed brother pay for *that*, deal with a *random bill*, pay for that unexpected *wedding gift*, take multi-destination flights to the States... yikes! it never ended.

i'm not complaining--i don't have any Real fiduciary problems--i know i'm wealthy as hell compared to the rest of the people in the world. i just HATE money. whenever i take pause and think about it, the relentlessness of the Rat Race depresses the hell out of me. over 7 years of paying down 50K of student loans and i've hardly made a dent.

i just want to be DONE so that i have the option of randomly taking a trip to... let's say... Kenya.
i can see myself randomly falling in love with the people, the community, the country--and then decide to eschew everything else: quit my job, leave behind my possessions--(bequeathed to 'my Family'), and live and serve the Kenyan people in a little mud hut by the river. i could work with my hands and carry water and contract tropical diseases and eat tropical fruit and be sunburnt all the time. eventually, i could curse my festering Kenyan sores and mosquito bites while musing about how little i understood about the romances of living in Africa. meanwhile, i could try to see if God sounds the same out there as He does in the other places i've been.
[by the way, by my experience, though He IS exactly the same, He somehow sounds/feels different in different places around the world. i have a feeling that *that's* because i don't really know Him that well.]

i guess that all bleeds into the Existential side of my little moment of sadness.
in the past 9 months, i've been to: Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Korea, the US, and Japan. while i was doing the research to travel Indonesia, i mostly felt a bubbling excitement about the amazing sights and culture and people i would soon encounter.
but, during those quiet, exhausted, alone-moments, i began feeling a bit dizzy at the thought of all of the countries i've visited and all of the countries i wanted to see. the strength just got sucked out of my muscles as i considered how there never feels like there is enough time. how there are just *too many people*, too many stories, too many needs... there is just TOO MUCH of everything but also TOO LITTLE of everything.

and then, i began to consider: what's the point? after all of that complaining about the Rat Race, haven't i simply created my own form and imposed it onto myself?

on another, related thread: i think i should spend some time considering *why* exactly i don't really like traveling with others. everyone always talks about how traveling with friends is so much fun and et cetera--but i don't know. everytime i've traveled with people for more than a few days: i spend too much money, i get up too late, and i don't end up doing the things that i reallyREALLY want to do. at the end of the day, i feel exhausted because i feel like i've been entertaining the whole time.
i guess i'm a bit of a people pleaser/accomodater--which makes *me* a pretty good travel partner--but i don't know how much pleasure i derive from that experience. (i'm such an arrogant brute, huh?)
sometimes i just want to be completely alone and read a book or write in my journal or get lost in lonely thoughts while people-watching. when traveling, i just hate feeling pressure to do anything but exactly what i want to do. maybe i need to just be honest w/ my fellow travelers when i need alone time, huh?
(but i would argue that's it's hard to find someone secure enough about their personhood to not take the "i need some alone time" shrug personally.)

but again, i find it a little troubling that for most of my hobbies (and especially for my favorite hobby) that i have such a fucking selfish attitude about my pleasures. MINE!

i feel almost certain that inevitably i *do* belong in a pair, but as i thought about how i like to fly solo for my greatest indulgence in life, i felt a little frightened/saddened by myself.
will i one day take over my parents' acres of land in the backcountry of Arizona, Alone? will i wear my dad's old plaid shirts and raise goats and chop wood for the winter heat? will i have a dozen dogs that i all name "George" and deliriously shoot rounds into that painted sky, just so i can feel something?
damnit. that kinda sounds like fun.

talking to a giant Peach

why can't people believe that i like being single?

there's this woman in my office: mid-50s, cakey make-up, brassy Peach lipstick, and a blaring voice that now grates my eardrums whenever she nears. i am not exaggerating when i say that *every*time that Peach and i get into a conversation, she tells me how badly i need a man. i don't know why i bother to engage her, but i feel this strong compulsion to set her straight.
i know it's partly cultural, but there's some universality in the underlying presumption that every person should be half of a pair, right?

anyway, Peach ceaselessly harrangues me about going out on dates and how i won't be truly happy until i find LOVE, et cetera. last week, she drilled into me during a school 회식. there were seven 40+ year old women plus me, sitting around a beautiful table laden with Korean food. they were all married with children; i was definitely the odd-one-out. all of the ladies made complaints about their husbands at some point during the meal. of course, the topic eventually turned to me and my pathetic singlehood.

Peach wrinkled her nose at me, "i'm sad you're leaving us, but i'm so glad you're going to the university setting."
"thank you," i nodded, "i'm excited about the challenge."
she leaned over to me coquettishly, "i'm glad, because at a university you'll have a better chance of finding a man." she clasped her hands to her chest and dramatically gazed into the distance--(i'm not joking about this. she is *that* theatrical.)
i restrained myself from rolling my eyes, "i'm not in a rush. i'm happy on my own." some of the ladies around the table shook their heads.
"Mary," Peach jabbed a dumpling towards me with her chopsticks, "you really *should* be in a rush."
the assistant vice principal chimed in, "don't you want children?"
i slowly shook my head, "i don't know that i definitely want children." there was a murmur around the table. i shrugged, "i'm NOT going to settle for someone right now, simply because i want to have children... anyway, i've always planned to adopt a child."
Peach began waving her arms, "no! you need to have your own children!"
another lady spoke up, "you're only saying that NOW, because you're having such fun as a single woman."

that is exactly right. tell me again *why* i want to have a husband to complain about?
"being single is fun," i smiled. "i don't want to rush into anything." i was getting tired of repeating myself.
Peach let out a deep, forlorn sigh, "Mary, you're not in a rush because you just don't know what it means to love someone."

whoa. what? i had been ready to just sit back and let them continue to 잔소리 me without talking back, but that statement pissed me off. i am a nearly 32 year old woman. how can you possibly know what i have been through in life?
in a clipped tone i replied, "actually, i have been in love. i've been in love, and i've been hurt, so i don't want to get into a relationship unless it's really worth it."
Peach protested, "but you have to try--"
i cut her off, "look, i've said this all before. i'm not against dating, i'm just not into the idea of wasting my time. if the right match came along, of course i would be willing to date him."
"butbutbut--it seems like you don't like to go on dates," she sputtered.
"i don't like to go on dates," i said curtly. "i like to spend time with my friends. i like to get to know people over coffee. i go out with guys all the time, Peach--i just haven't found anyone i want to make my boyfriend. i'm selfish. when you date someone, you have to take care of them. i really don't want to take care of someone that isn't right for me."
the assistant vice principal put her hand on my arm and giggled to break the tension, "you two are coming from two completely different perspectives."
i laughed with her, "i feel pretty strongly against dating just to pass the time." i switched the subject to my Japan travels and the terrible railway system out there.

damnit. i am a HAPPY single woman!
well, i'm as happy as i can be. granted, i miss sex. sometimes. but celibacy is much easier to bear than the emotional roller-coaster that comes along with having a meaningless fuck. so, i will be content as a nun.

in other news, i did just buy tickets to Indonesia in January. i'm not sure the same rules apply out there. i'll have to see how healthy i feel.

journal of the recalcitrant female

urgh.

so, i began getting ready for bed, here, now at midnight, and decided that i need to open a bottle of wine and winge.

i looked at myself in the mirror and saw: a 30+ female who's kinda cute, fairly fit, and a divorced, soppy mess.

as it is winter, it's pretty cold in my apartment right now. i turned up the heat, but i don't understand how the thermostat works in here. the ondol sometimes turns the place warmer, and my feet'll randomly get nice and toasty, but it's capricious. the temperature seems to rise when i'm sweating, but the floors are always cold to the touch when i groggily stumble out of my bed. apparently, i can turn up the heat for the water as well, but my showers are still only lukewarm.

i'm cold tonight--this Friday night--and i'm actually *in* b/c the prospect of going out makes me curl further into my blankets with a book and Left-Eyed Leonard. or the remote.

when did this happen?

when did i prefer to wrap myself up in this warm little Spring/Fall jacket and cuddle with my sock monkey, rather than dance and flirt on the crowded dance floor?

and this stupid jacket.

i've worn this jacket every Spring and Winter for the past 5 years--forgetting that it actually has some kind of significance besides the pullover that keeps the chill out. but tonight, i'm startled to recall: Chris got me this jacket.

many seasons ago, in a suburb of Chicago, in a different lifetime, he had asked me what i wanted for my birthday/Christmas. i told him: "socks, undies, and something warm. maybe something Puma."

a bright fuchsia puma leaps from my collarbone, mockingly stretching it's lean body to the sky. reminding me that everything is connected, and my history is not something that can ever be escaped.

looking for a moment at that bright, lean figure in the mirror, i had sudden nostalgia of the time when cuddling was free, comfortable, and kisses didn't make me nervous. when everything was a soft, worn pair of pilled socks. Chris and i had jokes about farming mini-donkeys or hosting our own cooking show or i might stroke the first digit of his left thumb because it felt safe. and familiar.

i stared forever into his big green eyes and saw our bedroom lamp reflected back to me.

i saw the walls our first apartment with the crotchety deaf lady who blasted her TV every night.

the fishtank where he first got excited about fancy goldfish.

the townhouse where we bought IKEA furniture and then died in.

is this my life? did i actually live there sometime before today?

or is it a dream?

was there a point that my life was actually reflected on the surface of his big green eyes?

a bun in my oven?

i will be 32 years old in less than 3 weeks. i've got all kinds of pressures to 'settle down' and find a man. my biological clock is tick-tocking with an inexorable forward movement.
my parents really want me to bear children and make them grandparents someday. there really isn't much time left to make that happen, and with every passing year, the window for me to make a baby is closing ever more rapidly. it hurts a little to think about that because i've still got that childlike desire to turn cartwheels in order please my parents; but at the end of the day, my life is my own, and i need to make choices that fit who *i* am as a person.

are children in the cards for me?

last year, i came into the revelation that "no", i do not feel the biological necessity to procreate. when i finally came to that conclusion, i felt an enormous sense of relief. a huge burden was lifted off of my psyche because: no longer was my quest to find the right life partner dictated by the clock. i know it sounds paradoxical to say that in juxtaposition to the above statement, but i think it's a complicated issue.

last year, when i realized that i don't 'have to have' a baby, there was freedom in letting go that status quo expectation. in fact, when i came into that thread of thoughts, i rubber-band flew into the other extreme where i began thinking that: not only did i not NEED to have a baby, i did not ever WANT to have one. the idea of becoming a mother was frightening--almost offensive to my sensibilities. i wondered how i had even considered it as an optional life path.

i know that there is some curiosity about me at my school because i do not fit into the Korean stereotype of 'lady-likeness'. i am a happily single 30+ woman, independent, active, love to travel on my own, and will politely state that "i don't need a man" to anyone who insists that i do.

[it's not that i don't desire to find a partner, but i find that it is much easier to avoid annoying busybodies when i flat-out close that door.]

this past Springtime, i had a very enlightening conversation that turned the tide on my anti-baby attitude. it was with the only happily married Korean woman i know. it was unusual for me to be open about myself to a co-worker, but she was honest enough to straight up ask me some of those deeper questions, along with sharing about herself. as we got further into our discourse about our lives, i revealed that i'd been married and divorced. to my surprise, she wasn't surprised or disgusted. she didn't even really pause for too long on that point. she was more curious about why i didn't want to have children.

roughly translated:

me: i just don't feel the call to motherhood.

her: really? but... why not? what holds you back?

me: well, i think that it's not something that you should just step into because it seems like it's the natural progression of things.

her: indeed, having children is a major decision... but i cannot imagine not having mine.

me: i don't know. it's relieving that i don't have to let that factor into finding someone to live my life with. there's no time-line anymore.

her: but, it sounds like you actually wouldn't WANT to have children.

me: i don't think i do.

she paused, then: Mary, i think you should be careful not to close yourself off to being a mother.

me: i know. if i find the right person, of course i'd be ok with having a child with him.

i said these words automatically. they were well-rehearsed from saying them so many times. she looked wistfully off into the distance. i think she knew i was giving her a line--albeit, it was an ideal i believed in--but not one that i had really examined for a long time.

her: i really hope you find that right person. she fixed her gaze upon me. because truly--when you find that perfect match for you... that man will make you so happy that your love for each other will feel almost desperate. if you find that kind of match, you can't help but want to consummate that love by having a child together. a child that is mended together by both of your flesh.

it was like a bell rang in my head. her statement was nothing new, but the way she passionately, authentically expressed herself was beautiful. i could see that she really believed what she was saying, and with a rush, i suddenly realized that *me* having a baby was not so preposterous. in fact, i suddenly realized that i could actually desire mixing my DNA with another person's and procreating a being that was kinda like me.

it was a startling, fantastical moment.

many things have led me to this conclusion, but i can finally, happily say: come what may.

Motherhood is a privilege that i think i would like to experience sometime in the future. now, i don't want to be so arrogant to assume that even if i do find this mythical "right" man, that i will have the ability to have a child. so many couples just believe that they can make a baby whenever they feel like it; there's this general sense of entitlement to procreation that many couples have. so many are heartbroken when they can't.
if God blesses me with a little one of my own flesh and blood, that will mean that my life will have unfolded very differently than i can currently imagine. but hopefully, if a bun does end up in my oven, that'll mean that i have also found the person who can handle and adore my crazy.

napping during the War

i’m waiting for my male co-teacher to go to a class so that i can sneak off to my classroom for a nap. ridiculous, i know–but again: i’m at school for yet another day of desk warming while the students are preparing for their finals.

i’ve gotten a few inquiries about my reaction to the escalated tensions between the 2 Koreas and to be frank, i’m not worried about it at all. this is not for political reasons or me taking on a laisse faire attitude about what’s happening. i’m just simply not afraid of what is to come.

let’s take a look at the possible negative scenarios:
-worst case: a bomb gets tossed at us in Seoul and i am maimed/grievously injured. yes. that would really suck. i’d be pretty sad and mad if that happened. however, the possibility that i am personally injured in this way seems like a long shot.
either way, being a firm believer that “everything happens for a reason”, eventually i know i’d be able to accept losing an eye or an arm or having some other kind of disfiguration.

-another case: the DPRK invades the ROK. w/ Seoul about an hour and a half away from the DMZ–that is somewhat problematic, of course… but i dunno. my 엄마 told me stories of sitting on the back of my grandfather’s bike and riding away from the Japanese Army during the Korean War back in the 50s. i bring up that little tidbit because:
well, i have a brain–and if an invasion occurred, i would do what i had to do to survive. maybe i’d take the first flight out? or, if that wasn’t an option, i’ve got a few friends in my building w/ whom i would probably pool my resources and make/execute a plan for escape.

-along those lines: let’s say we didn’t escape.
becoming a POW is hardly likely, but if *that* actually happened–well damn. that too would really suck. i can’t even conceptualize what it would be like to be in a POW camp and get beaten up and starved and… whatever else that comes along with that. i’ve actually talked to people who have experienced some of those war atrocities and it’s not something that i would like to endure. but, bad things happen in life. i really don’t mean to sound cavalier in saying that, but you live and you deal. and you try not to lose who you are when experiencing terrible pain and tragedy.

-last scenario: death. let’s say that a bomb gets tossed over here or there’s a sudden attack with tanks and automatic weapons and i end up dead. honestly: oh well.
it’s not that i want to die, but i’m simply not afraid to. i feel very comfortable when i consider what will happen after i close my eyes for the last time. certainly, i hope that a whole lot of pain or screaming doesn’t precede that, but i’ve got complete hope in the outcome of my eternity.

my co-teacher has just left his desk. i will take this opportunity to sneak with a book and some hot tea to the couch in my classroom. maybe i’ll reflect on this very comfortable moment from the middle of a POW camp in a few months/years. who knows? i have no control over that. but, i sure can enjoy and appreciate what is left of today.