scattered thoughts on June the 9th, 2009

1:26am
damnit. i'm going to pay for this one. why am i starting this now? damnit. i think i'm doing the insomnia thing again. all the running around and travel had fooled my body into a normal circadian rhythm for about a month, but, ugh. i think that normalcy has come to an end.

tonight, i tried to read, but my mind just couldn't focus on the words. i decided i might try turning out the lights and closing my eyes and breathing deeply and letting my mind wander... but thoughts kept on enveloping me. all of these scenarios about what the next 6 months could end up looking like--where i might be in a year. is it insane that i have a hard time enjoying just *being* today?

but, i feel that i've been lazing around for the past 6 months. well, "lazing" isn't a fair estimation. i've grown and healed and developed a renewed sense of myself. i've walked w/ the Lord in a sweet and different way. i've gotten back in touch w/ who i am and who i am not--though, this is surely going to be a lifelong journey. my pulse has begun feeling more matched to the beat of Seoul, but, i'm spinning around in my summer flip flops wondering: 'what am i doing here? and what is next?'

i'm always concerned about time. i hate inefficiency like a lot of my fellow 'Perfect-Mes', though this manifests very differently for each one of us insaniees. i know it's not reasonable, but i like to know 'what the point' is. i'm sure that sounds incredibly dull and leaves no room for sponteneity or mess, but maybe i really am just boring as hell?

in my world, i feel fine w/ fluttering along aimlessly for a while, just for the sake of feeling the gentle Summer whispers on my skin or the touch of someone's lips or the hard cement under rubber soles. haphazard wandering and experience is amazing for some seasons--maybe a wonderful part of every season, but in the eventual eventualities of it all, i'd like to be able to have a cup of coffee w/ a beloved one and be able to make any kind of sense out of it.

obviously, sometimes you can't explain every messy or beautiful instance but, still... i want to be able to reflect on what it is that happened, or happens, or is happening right now.

a friend said something very encouraging to me last week that i'm trying to hold in my heart. as i was deliberating on a less formulated version of the above, she said:
"Mary, i feel like you're going to have such an amazing life"
how narcissistic is it that this is what encourages me and that i want to hold tightly onto this idea? but already, i feel that the life i've lived to date has already been incredibly chaotic and amazing and bright and dark and an overwhelming flood of events. but the road ahead is full of shifting shadows and the idea of venturing forward, as alone as i feel sometimes, is scary.

being w/ someone in general and in my case, for almost a decade, provided a fictious, though protective film of comfort. as long as it was his hand that held mine while we stumbled into the junkyard of life, the rusty twisted metal and the sharp edges could be admired, rather than feel so dangerous. now i'm worrying about tetanus shots or tripping into a rotating blade or just feeling bored in a Swiss city, population 3,000.

i just don't want to waste my time, my life. i know i know: "none of it's a waste", but my mind doesn't always work that way when contemplating the present and the future. i can always describe the fruits of the past, but sometimes i didn't actually taste them. this is unfortunate. yes. but the aftertaste isn't always so bad.
this would be easier for me if i had a home base. so when things get too confusing and life just feels like it's too much, that i could just say fuck it all and buy the next plane ticket. home.
i guess i can always skype. and email. and gchat.

maybe this 'amazing life' will be so b/c i don't have a home base. that the adventures i embark upon and the opportunities that get put in front of me will be in part b/c i don't have that precious safety net.

i can't picture myself being an 80 year old lady anywhere in the world. or even a 40 year old one. there's nothing that *i* want. this could be all backlash and reactionary railing against the status quo prison i found myself in for the past few years.

truly truly, i feel like i'm regressing back. when i was younger, i didn't want to be committed to anyone or any one thing when i was younger. i commited and it disastrously failed.
so now i'm really trying to figure out: well, what is it that i really want? i mean, hell!--that could fall apart too, but at least that would be a conscious life decision that i made, right? and i suppose i could cry and cry and then write about it all.

i'm flooded w/ the lust to just go go go and see and taste and feel and gasp and exploding scream at the top of a snow capped hike.

phew. 2:29am. i'm never going to get to sleep tonight.

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.

once. just once.

a heart breaking mistake. why do i always have to learn things in this heart breaking way?
i think i had prided myself in actually being smarter than to do certain things, but apparently, i've got as much dumb ass in my system as the next overly educated idealist. this was probably apparent to anyone who's read any of my earliest blogs, but hell!--much of that had to do w/ flights of bullshit fancy rather than actual plans to realize any true self-degradation.

this has been a blurring dramatic week that started off by a trip to the hospital then the pharmacy and then two days later getting intoxicated to the point of committing a regretful act that i'm probably going to feel twisted about for a while. i sat trembling in my office today feeling sick and disgusted and cursed at myself all day. yes. this is vague.

i can't believe i'm actually writing about this right now. i'm toying with the idea of not publishing this blog at all--and keeping it hidden w/ a few other secret blogs i've written. but these are the chronicles of the crazy process of my growing process, so i'm going to be honest with myself and anyone reading this. you may or may not have shared a similar experience. it's going to get a little PG-13 folks, so if you can't handle the word sex, please stop reading.

let's get a little more specific. i have now officially joined the teeming masses of the misguided. i have officially had a one night stand. how crass. awful. problematic and degrading and ugh!--i'm feeling nauseous thinking about it. it's not the act itself that is so troubling to me, but moreso the fact that it was me. i don't judge anyone for their indulgences, but i feel really disturbed that i allowed this to happen. this is actually not me. this is against any and everything i value about human relationships.
and huh!--again, Christian girl gone amuck. i know that there is no real difference in the gradations within the Biblical tenets regarding (dare i use the word?) fornication, but even outside of this 'religious' talk, i feel that there is something really base and demeaning to both parties who engage in this way. it's not meant to be this way. God did not make sex to be so misused. i write so openly about this partly to think through it all and partly because i need to get it out there in the world and be humble about my unfortunate idiocy.

i'm a human. i've got those carnal desires that every human being has. this is not necessarily why this happened. why did it happen?
partly because of this damn woman nature of mine. we all want to be considered beautiful and desired and pedestaled as the most amazing treasure eyes have beheld. you want to be that one. seen. that smooth and curvy and incredibly sparkly sexy-as-hell hourglass--just by walking down the street or leaning against a desk or wielding a butter knife. fuckable just because you're so damn pretty.
but still valued.
it's a tricky balance.

i don't think these things are wrong wants or needs. in fact, i believe this is how God made women.
but i fretted and cursed at myself all day; i muttered frustrated and degrading comments to myself at my computer; i sighed heavily over and over and rubbed my temples raw; i pulled on my hair and clenched my fists; i wished i could put on a sackcloth and smother myself in a mountain of ashes.

again. why did this happen? why would i do this to myself? why does anyone do this to themselves?

i was talking to a friend today and feel that she quoted something that i found incredibly profound. 'sin is when we miss the mark'.
we women have those desires to be sparkly and amazing, but sometimes we simply miss the mark. we can see what we want and we approach it w/ all kinds of tenacity and shiny eyeshadow or scheming and perfumes or posturing--whatever--to get our needs gratified. and there are times we accidentally stumble into that unforeseen opportunity for that momentary flash of feel-good. there's that point where you just let yourself fall into it and the momentum carries you down the rabbit hole.
eitherway, when we make any choice that isn't aligned to the way that things should be, we miss the mark. and we often cycle into another mistake and another--in an effort to recover or try to hit our target again. but this turns into a mass of degrading choices that cause deep, bone aching, heart wrenching pain.
then we tear at our hair and sorrowfully spill of a fountain of tears. regret.

and knowing this, already knowing all of this, why did i make this mistake? continue to make these mistakes? damnit. i'm a sinner. fuck. things have certainly changed in the past quarter of a year. and i have the irresistible tendency to learn things in the hardest way possible.

Jesus help me. i cannot compel myself to not do what i want to do. i cannot compel myself to stop myself from doing what i desire, but even though it's not Your way.

outside of all of these things, i learned a maybe superficial but powerful lesson. men want to have sex. and they actually want to have sex with me. they may not behold me as the most et cetera of et ceteras, but i actually am beginning to believe that i might be desirable and pretty enough that many men would want to get into bed w/ me, simply because of my appearance. yuck.
i do NOT want to get into bed with many men. and i will NOT.

so yes, last night. incredibly stupid assinine horrifying behavior, yes.
but i'm joining a club--i should laminate a card and stamp my name on it. officially a lifetime member of the ONE one-night stand club.
ladies, gentlemen--if you're a part of this club, please don't revoke your membership.