There are things that I absolutely love: I enjoy living in this neighborhood. Last year, while I was living on the Yonsei campus, I was @ least a 15 minute walk up and down a hill if I wanted something like an egg or carton of milk or bag of crisps. When I walked around, I didn’t really see anyone but students who hurriedly traversed the campus, looking for a place to study.
Now, I’m in the middle of a Korean community and actually see children and school uniforms and grandparents and random lay-people that’re living their normal lives in this city of 25 million. When I walk down the little alleys of my neighborhood, there are countless little shops that carry bread or makeup or fried dumplings and ddukbokki.
Every few days, I will be walking past a fruit stand (strawberries are in season right now) and the brightly colored flash of fresh bananas, strawberries, kumquat, or apples will catch my eye. I get to smile at the vendors and store owners who’re now able to recognize my face from my frequenting. This usually compels me to think about the other little things I may need in my daily life like a package of ramen noodles or juice or tuna or toothpaste. I love that I don’t have to make lists or drive cars anywhere—this tightly packed urban life makes every-anything really accessible and I can spend more time on myself.
BUT, what the hell have I been doing w/ my spare time these days? I’ve been bombarding my brain w/ television. It’s a huge curse that I have a TV in my apartment now. It’s way too easy to come home to my tiny little apartment and hit the green button on the remote and putter around while watching *whatever*. Sigh. Bad habits.
So, I’ve decided that I must be intentional with how I spend my time or I’ll be spending my life in TV Land this year. It’s hard getting off your arse and forming better habits.
I’ve put off my book because I’ve lost the thread, the angle. I’m thinking that I have to take an entirely new approach. So, sadly—I’ve written 3 chapters that I believe I must scrap for another direction. Oh well. It is what it is.
I was naughty this weekend.
Let’s talk a little bit more about bad habits.
I guess I can couch this in the story about J. So, sexuality. I’m pretty sure that I’ve got bad boundaries with men. I believe that there is probably an objectively “good” and “bad” where this is concerned. Sleeping around is probably not a good idea, but is it bad to get your physical needs met?
My concerns are borne when considering aftermath. The fact that there’s an awkwardness the morning after is likely indicative that something is not right. What’s worse is the fact that I *expect* for men to be assholes to me. My thought is: Well, we both got what we wanted right?
It’s not that I don’t want anything more—that would be pure bullshit—but I don’t expect anything more. Let me just tell stories…
So, J and I had spent some time together during my 4-day sojourn in Van Vieng. He was intelligent, fairly decent looking and we shared many similarities in our evaluations about life and philosophy. Talking to him was enjoyable, particularly in the magnificent background of the
There’s also the spirit—the romance—of the unfettered freedom of traveling. There’s a release from expectations and limitations—something that is extremely difficult to escape from in typical daily life.
Anyway, after spending 3 days together, I didn’t really have any amorous feelings for J. He was a nice guy, but there wasn’t really a strong chemistry between us. I had met a gaggle of Aussie university students and we decided to go on one of those infamous Van Vieng tubing excursions.
Let me tell you, it was a sight to see. All the way up and down a section of the 
people swung out from, laughing and screaming, then splashing into the river. The bright sun glistened off the half naked bodies of the drunken revelers while loud dance music thumped in syncopated rhythm.
Of course, I partook in the revelry, though not in the same kind of wild abandon as my 20-something counterparts. I enjoyed the sun and took in the sights of the beautiful tanned bodies in bemusement. J seemed to want to keep the activities at arms length as I did, so we ended up spending most of the day together. It’s funny because I don’t believe that either of us were necessarily attracted to each other, but I could tell that we both appreciated the shape of each other’s bodies.
The Aussie girls wanted me to come out with them, and I decided that I would go out for one more evening in this party town. J came with this crowd of girls that adopted me. As the evening closed into the night, we went to another bar that hung over the River. We laughed and played games and flirted with anyone who had a cute enough smile. Or body.
J had been leaning a little close to me—I had asked him to cock-block a creepster that had been following me around all day and he obliged with an easy smile. When our eyes connected, there was… something there. Not enough to lean in for a kiss or put a hand on a thigh, but there was something.
Eventually, the music made me a little stir-crazy and again, I ended up dancing under the bright stars and the flickering bon-fires. I was captured by the music, captured by the delicious feeling of my muscles responding to rhythm—I moved my body through the cooling night air and also with the various half-naked men that met me inside the beat.
At some point, I lost track of J and decided that I was done with the crazy party. I needed to get away from this ‘collegiate’ scene and away from people. I walked back to the guest house. He’ll figure out that I’m no longer at the bar and make it home.
About an hour later, J entered our room. I had been looking out at the mountains and smoking a cigarette by the window. I think neither of us were tired enough to sleep, but there wasn’t much to do. We both lay down in our beds and tucked in our mosquito nets. We faced each other in the darkness and began talking about our lives.
Then our previous relationships.
Then about how the sex was in our previous relationships.
Of course, when the subject turned to sex, I began thinking about what his body looked like.
The content of our conversation and the booze that ran through our veins compelled his inevitable question:
“So, how do you feel about casual sex?”
“Well, I’m not sure. I think that sex is a little sacred—I don’t just sleep with anyone—especially if he’s an idiot.”
Quiet for a moment. Then, “I’m feeling pretty horny right now.” I stared into the darkness in his direction and could just make out the form of his lithe torso.
“Hmmm…”
“And you? How’re you feeling?”
“Well hell. It’s been while since I’ve had sex and this conversation has been somewhat…”
“Would you want to sleep with me?”
“Only if you’ll come into my mosquito net.”
The moonlit mosquito net was tinted bluish white and billowed while we touched each other’s skin. I am always surprised by a man’s reaction to my body. The simple fact of my nudity stimulates and causes a seemingly irrepressible hungry response. I feel a certain power and sense of strength, knowing that I can make another feel this.
The sex was louder than it should’ve been, considering the fact that there were only thin boards between the rooms. When it was done, I lay in the circle of his arms, our sweat mingling in the sudden quiet. Our faces close—an artificial closeness derived by the physical contact, but we enjoyed the moment and the feeling of soft lips and tongues.
When I stirred into wakefulness in the dawning light, he softly said, “Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
“Is it? For you?”
I gave him a half-smile, “I think so. And you?”
“Yes. No regrets?”
“I don’t think so.”
I had some errands to run in the city before I left, but J waited at the guest house for my return. There was some awkwardness when we sat across from each other in the open mountain air in the light of day, but I think that we mutually felt that it was important to share these last few moments together. J carried my heavy backpack to the tuk-tuk that came to pick me up. He kissed my cheek and I kissed his stubbly one.
“Good bye J. Enjoy your travels.”
“And you.”
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