Never Complete

I’ve been very busy.  My law school prep course is tight, and the people who are taking the same course are not the most contributing kind.  I just finished submitting my 2nd paper of the course and it’s 1:43 am here.  Phew.  I feel like I am back in my college, writing papers until 3 am with app kind of books, papers, cups and clothes spreaded all over my room.

Recently I became a friend with Jay, who is in pretty much same situation with me.  Jay’s passport is South Korean, but he went over to Arkansas at age 3 and spent his entire life in South.  Then something happened and he had to come back, now serving his military duty like a good South Korean citizen.  He is going through some of the phase I went through (or currently going through) so it has been a pleasure to talk with him.  Maybe it’s because him talking about how all of his friends are in Arkansas, and how he misses the American South – good barbeques, cool beer at patio in the midst of warm, humid south air and laid-back people.  I didn’t have a chance to property visit American South (okay, I visited Florida once but that’s not really South…no offense, Floridans), but I understand him.  Likewise, I miss crazy snowstorms, how everything was either gray, black or white, the crisp cold winter air on my cheeks, reddening my skin, and kind Midwesterners, wrapped in their Gore-Tex Northface shell jackets and hats.  And we are two Koreans in Korea.

Maybe it was because of this chat, but a thought suddenly occured to me – that I probably will never feel “complete” or “at ease” wherever I go.

When in Korea, I hate the fact how the whole society is homogenous, stigmatizes different voices, treat “foreigners” differently based on their nationality/skin color, thinks it is totally okay to sacrifice individual for the sake of group, and communicating vertically only.  And how all the “foreign” foods that isn’t really expensive or that special suddenly becomes twice the original price and treated like some kind of luxury. And the total lack of middle ground market for clothing and pants: they are either all really short, really small, or really decorated over the top.  In addition, most of the pants don’t fit me well here.  I misses Japanese people’s respect of privacy and misses a lot of things about America.  Of course, friends those are not in Korea, too.

When in the United States, I hate the fact how people have allergic reaction to any kind of government regulation (Grow up, people!), shipwreck med insurance system, D- grade infrastructure, evangelist politicians and total lack of public transportation.  Then I start to miss a lot about certain things of Korea and Japan: those two countries superb public transportation and infrastructure (both countries has bullet train AND public transportation covering entire nation; US is like x10 bigger than those two.  What are they thinking?!?!), awesome public med insurance and 24-hour operating service/stores.  And free restaurant deliveries.  I again start to miss home and a small number of friends in Korea.  I’ll probably miss more once my school starts, since I managed to make a bit more friends in Seoul.  And how you can “get around” some rules by connections and negotiations in Korea.

When in Japan, I hate how people don’t ever tell anything in a straightforward manner and unwilling to take any risk or responsiblity. Usually, there are no words equivalent of “flexiblity” (not in a literal sense, though).  Bureaucracy there is so bad, and the decision making authorities are so unwilling to change, even if it is verge of survival.  Sometimes they are way too obsessed on small details.  And, kind of like Korea, it is so hard to be considered seriously if you are not one of them (fortunately, I suffered less of this because people around me were so great and I look Asian – Japanese – enough for most Japanese).  Soon I start to miss how things are so much more straighforward and flexible in America and Korea.

Sure, I appreciate my unusual international experiences.  I know that is my edge, and I know that’s what makes me as me.  But think about it – most others feel pretty settled and fine in a certain place.  Your friends are there and you lived there long enough.  All the pieces that makes you are at one place, so whenever you want to go back or get some peace of mind, you can just go to that one place.

But what about someone like me?  My entire childhood is spread around the world.  I can’t simply drive several hours or get a weekend trip to revisit my past and remiscine good ol’ times.  I don’t have my private jet.  You can’t just plan to visit America from Korea over a weekend.

Whether I end up living in America, Korea, Japan, or somewhere else, one thing is sure: I will never feel complete or settled.

People say acceptance is the key to everything.  I accept, I guess.

But it still saddens me – that I will never feel complete or settled for the rest of my life.

My Last Blind Date and Some Scary Wedding.

Today’s posting would be something of girly and not very important personal update with Korean flavah.

Do you remember this post?  Yes, the wedding has happened and I went there with my family.  I could see they spent fortune on this wedding.  But the quality was…disappointing.  I know Korean wedding (to be more specific, Korean westernized wedding) is not the most exciting event in your life.  Invitees bring some money for gift, the couples just do ceremony in white dress and all, people clap, some boring and politically correct speech by someone with nice title and connection with family, maybe a song or two, everyone rush to the canteen/catering, eat and leave.  Sometimes the venue staffs will herd you out, so they can have multiple ceremonies per day.

Based on the venue, gossips, make-up and dress rentals, I wouldn’t be surprised if they spent one million hundred KRW (about 87,000 USD) in total.  I don’t want to comment on the amount of money – I didn’t pay it, they never asked me to chip in so I don’t get a say.  But if you spent that much money, you either expect a breathtakingly beautiful decorations, or 5-star rating food or…I don’t know, Adele singing live?  None of that happened. In sum, it was expensive yet totally tasteless wedding.  Expensive yet out-of-place Emanuel Ungaro dress, not-so-great food, whole bunch of mismatching flowers…My family all thought, “it’s just waste of money, I feel really bad for them…but they didn’t have any taste to begin with, no?”

Now, after the wedding, I keep hearing about the landmines that’s waiting to explode between Marza, Marza’s family and her husband’s family.  Well, well, fingers crossed (this is cynicism).

Since I am writing about wedding, I think this is a nice Segway moment to talk about adult man-woman relationship and marriage in Korea.  I know a lot of you American folks are cringing at “arranged marriage” and think it’s some barbaric custom.  But I, an Asian who grew up both in no-Asian town of America and Asia, am not too averse of it.  There are different “kinds” of arranged marriage.  Basically, the core of arranged marriage is your (or the date’s) parents get the potential date for you.  If you have laid-back parents who places priority on their kids’ emotion, then it’s not required to get the marriage date ASAP.  Now, if you have parents who are really anxious, the pressure is on, obviously.  Overall, the pressure increases as you get older – Korean people have problem accepting their children’s choice of life when it isn’t the norm, at least to them.  And there’s the notion thinking “my child doesn’t know better” – Amy Chua didn’t make up her Tiger Mom story.

Maybe it’s because there’s no such pressure on me (or any of those around me) yet, but anyway, I’m okay with it.  What’s to lose by meeting more new people? And they are recommended by people who know you very well.

So I had one of this nature last weekend (note: other than general background and contact information, our parents’ involvement was next to nothing, which was good.  Really, it was just like any other blind date).  The guy – let’s call him Peter – was recommended by my mom’s friend, who is a fine, gentle, hard-working person.  Korean Korean.  All I know is Peter’s family has been working as oriental med doctors for more than 100 years.  Though their earning is good, they still follow their ancestor’s will: that is not to move away from its original place, and keep the business at manageable size.  That deserves massive respect.

We texted to arrange a meeting place.  He just kept asking this and that in text, making me think “he can just call….” but then I thought maybe he doesn’t feel it’s appropriate.  Okay, whatever.  He suggested a Japanese dining bar.  I thought it a bit unusual – usually you are going a bit of high-end place for your first blind date, no? Ohhh, maybe he wants it to be casual.  I guess it’s not a bad idea to have first date over a cool pint of beer.

The date has come and I was there.  I was on time, but I wasn’t sure Peter – today’s “host” – is here yet. I called.

Ceberus: Hello? Hi, this is Ceberus, the person you are meeting today. 
Peter: Yeah.
Ceberus: I’m at the place, right outside. 
Peter: Yeah.
Ceberus: Are you in?
Peter: Yeah.
Ceberus: Okay I’m going in, see you in a minute.
Peter: Yeah.

Honestly, I was a bit off at this point.  This already sounds odd, no?  If a man is thirty something, I expect him to be able to respond to the “business” calls in formal manner.  How hard is it to say “Hi! Good evening! I’m in so come on in!”?

Anyway I went in, and I asked him to suggest/order for me because it’s my first time here.  He just ordered foods.  Fine – but if you are just going to order foods, what’s the point of meeting at izakaya?  We could’ve gone to the other Japanese restaurant.  Since the host isn’t ordering, I couldn’t either.

We started chatting.  I found that he served at public service unit (all Korean men has to serve in military: if your physical condition prohibits to do so, such as bad waist or terrible eyesight, you are usually placed for public service), so I brought up some of my guy friends doing the same thing.  Then for some reason, he started to talk about some fist fight initiated by Korean age hierarchy.  Which is hardly a good topic to start if you want to leave someone a good impression.

We soon started to talk about our majors.  His major was oriental medicine (in Korea, oriental medicine courses are treated similarly with western med schools and they are officially doctors, subject to medical insurance).  Surprise.  I said my major was political science.  Then Peter looked very excited, saying he wanted to study politics but couldn’t do it due to his father’s objection.

Oh, this may be a good sign.

No it wasn’t.

His question: “so which political party do you support?”

….I thought politics, religion and abortion are big no-no in any kind of first meeting, regardless of country.  What the heck is happening.

I had to find a way to answer this politely, so I just said “well…they all look same!”

Peter said he wanted to study politics because his childhood home was near to the Blue House and envied the president’s parade.

Fine, this I can take as a sweet childhood memory.

Then he said, all man should aim for being a president before dying.

Fine.  But you are thirty.  Time to wake up.

I really wanted to talk about other stuff, but he was too excited and went on. He said Korean race is the best and brightest in the world and he supports nationalism.

Oh fug.

You are talking to a TCK, people in general hating nationalism and ethnicism.  And this is 21st century, the era of globalization.  What time are you living in?

So finally I had to say: “Peter, honestly, having been grown up in one of the most diverse countries in the world, I don’t really sympathize with nationalism and ethnicism-centered education of Korean history.  In fact, I really don’t like nationalism.  IMO, it’s the seed of all wars and hatred.”

He looked startled, and said, he thought I would be interested because I’m…politics major.  Again, I had to explain: “there are two kinds of politics major students. One is those who want to change the world with their hands; another is those who likes observing the whole situation from background and analyze the data.  I’m the latter.”

I don’t think he was too happy with it.  Same here anyway.

At least he was well behaving, so we had a tea, and he drove me back to home.  In his car, he talked about his studying.  I chimed in.

Ceberus: It sounds like your dad is oriental doctor, too.
Peter: He is.
Ceberus: Oh, that’s wonderful!
Peter: No, not really.
Ceberus: Why?
Peter: Well, dang, I want to play but it’s impossible to skip my study and lie since he knows everything.

I’m speechless…

So that was the end of my blind date.

Someone said: the more blind dates you do, the list of awful man increases.

Sometimes though, I feel like Korean men, in general, are immature than American guys.  I think I know why.  In the States, kids – men included – are encouraged to live independently.  People rarely live with their parents (and there’s some stigma attached to those who do, though there is increasing number of kids who are doing it due to recession).  For most people, they live away from their family and do a lot of things on their own once they start their college education.  Meanwhile they have experience of earning money on their own.

For Korean guys, this isn’t the case.  Since their birth to college, majority of people live with their parents.  They’ve never done things by themselves – doing laundry, preparing meals, earning stipends, repairing their bike, etc.  A lot of them live off from stipend given from their parents.  It’s pretty obvious who matures first.

I understand why.  But I just can’t sympathize with them (I bet I startle them too).  Maybe it’s one of those pains of hidden immigrant.

LSAT and so on

I finally finished climbing the toughest hill – LSAT, and now working my butt off on all that optional essays and personal statements.  Yes, I feel far much more relaxed than working on LSAT, but it still feels like there is another stone  hanging on my neck.  But, comparing that to my LSAT studying, I really can’t complain.  There’s a short story written by Haruki Murakami – all of sudden, a small middle-aged woman pops up out of nowhere, and just stick herself to the main character wherever he goes.  I feel for the main character.

Three days before the October LSAT, I took prepatory tests, using the three most recent tests.  I did really well – in fact, far better than I expected.  So I was in a good mood.  Maybe it’s because that bread incident that my dad still pests me about, but the result wasn’t good.  In fact, it was far lower than my most recent prepatory tests.  I still think I deserved a bit better score.  I cried my eyes out after I got my scores  – it is upsetting when you really tried hard but get crappy result.  But then, it isn’t my first time and life isn’t fair.  There’s nothing I can do anyway at this point except applying.  I’ve used up my test limits, and I already took a good one year off, devoting everything for the test.

On a positive side, the test was tough.  Actually they set a record for score curve.  LSAT is getting more difficult.  There are schools that weight your undergrad GPA, and I am glad I graduated from university with great national reputation.  Thanks to the economic downturn, I heard that schools give more credit to those who have work experience.  I do have one.  And I will be categorized “international student,” though it feels weird to me.  But as long as my passport stays as Republic of Korea, I will be one, and it doesn’t hurt for application process.  And I’ve been working on my personal statement for a while, so unlike many others, I really don’t have to hustle.  So all I need is to marry off with some American guy and get a green card. Hell yeah. (JK)

Meanwhile, my ex – an US military officer – visited me.  It was surprising.  Since breakup, we didn’t contact each other for about good 2-3 years.  Then out of blue, he contacted me about 2 years ago, saying he will be deployed to Iraq soon, and he wanted to apologize me for unable to handle the situation better.  I accepted it.  Then another 2 years passed.  He e-mailed me, saying he’s temporarily stationed in Dongducheon, got a few days of vacation and would like to spend some time with me.  Sure, why not.  To me, he was distant friend at best.  I expected things to be cool.

Maybe it’s me who is overreacting, but things weren’t so cool.  He said how it is good to see me again.  Alright.  Despite my objection, he insisted on paying for everything.  I did not like this, since I really didn’t want this to be like a date.  He kept checking on me, sometimes just looking at me.  I guess he has some feeling left for me.  Or maybe it’s just because he didn’t get to see many civilian girls.  Or maybe it’s because he went to Afghanistan and Iraq, blowing stuff up.  He is a gentle, caring person.  But I really don’t want to get back into whole romantic relationship thing with him again, unless he is better at handing a relationship with woman and out of military.

Besides, having a conversation with him was a tad bit boring.  When I reunite with a friend, I want to know what changes were there in his/her life.  His stories were pretty much same, since his life revolves around military base.  I don’t know I will send him a Christmas card.  If we were casual friends, I’d sent it.  I still feel bad for him, since he is away from his family, pretty much all alone, and doesn’t get to see his family (I know it can be hard.  Trust me.  CCK with boarding school experience).  But we didn’t start from “casual friends.”  I don’t want to give him any wrong signs, and I really don’t want another headache.  I don’t know.

I just like movie, that’s it, so stop making a big deal.

“I didn’t know you liked movie that much.” said my dad.  I just shrugged and answered, “well, who doesn’t like movie?”  I expected this movie conversation to end at this point.  Instead, my dad turned to my mom, and kept going on.  “Since when did she watched that much movies?  Was it from junior high, or highschool? college?”

Now my mom was confused a bit too, just like me. “Well…” she said, “she was in Midwest, and there’s not much to do except sports and weekend movies.” I nodded too.  It was a small, suburban Midwestern town.  You don’t have that much option on entertainment, unless you have a car, or can do drug or drink loads of alcohol.  I did neither of them – I did not want to get kicked out from school.

So I couldn’t really understand why my dad started to have this idea of me being a big film fan.  Sure, I like movie, but I don’t think I like movie more than average people.  If you think that’s wrong because I talk about this strange Asian movies and Hong Kong film stars, well, I’m Asian living in Asia. Duh.  I took a film class in college, but that was just for one semester.  I didn’t hate it but I didn’t love it either.  I am nothing like Tarantino or Spielberg, who loved movies so much that they started making their own film from teenage times.  Besides, if I really liked movie that much, I would have gone to New York University.  I couldn’t help wondering what gave him such an idea.  But I couldn’t really ask him directly, since I was scared of “offending” him again.

It turned out that since I memorize all the western names of American/British actors so well, he thought I am a big movie fan.

Understandable, but really, me memorizing western names so well isn’t because I’m a big movie fan.  I grew up in States.  Almost everyone around me had names such as John Radstone, Skyler Woskobski, Sarah Crnich, Tim Schnake, and so on.  Kims and Chois make minority.  Compared to other Koreans, those “foreign names” are not that foreign to me.  So name like Benedict Cumberbatch, Richard Armitage and Jake Gyllenhal aren’t big deal to me.  Frankly speaking, I feel like I get the western names more quickly and easily than Korean names.

“Er, dad,” I said, “it’s not that I am a big movie mania.  I like movies but no more than average.”

“But how come you memorize all those western names?”

“She’s just used to it.” My mom intervened.

“Yeah, like…I spent so much time in Midwest so I’m used to hearing and memorizing all the western names.  And I watch more American and British TVs than Korean.  That’s it.  It’s not like I am a passionate movie fan or anything.”  I said, and looked my dad’s face.  He looked pretty confused and disappointed.

I couldn’t help thinking about a fellow TCK (Korean background)’s blog posting.  After she came back to Korea, she kept bombing her English exam.  Her parents thought something is definitely wrong with her – their daughter was speaking fluent English, but kept failing her English exam!  The thing was, she could not understand any of the grammatical terms in Korean.

Time passed, and she started to learn another language other than Korean and English.  Then everyone, including her parents, started saying, “oh, it would be easy for you, you speak some foreign languages already anyway.”  She was confused, because she never really thought of herself as speaking a foreign language.  She grew up, living with English language.  One day, as her dad sad another foreign-language-thing, with a lot of gut, she said to her father:

“Dad, I’ve never spoken in foreign language in my life.  Not once.”

You can pretty much imagine her father’s face.

The Shoe Journey #1

Maybe it was that random inspiration little voice talking in your head, maybe it was the compass item to be carried with TCKs as souvenir, or maybe it was because I was way to annoyed by my spatially challenged apartment’s shoe shelf overflowing with shoes.  I really wanted to write about something on my blog, but I couldn’t figure out what to write about.  Today, as I walk down street, suddenly with a lightbulb I thought of shoes.

Yeah, yeah, I can picture the male readers of my blog cringing at the corner, thinking “holy hell, Ceberus was another shoe-crazy woman” and expecting a posting bombarded Louboutin, Jimmy Choo, and other brand names with kill hills you can’t possibly pronounce, let alone wear.  Well, no worries, because it won’t be my posting.  I thought of shoes, because, regardless of your place of birth, background, nationality, school, occupation, etc., shoe is something you can’t completely separate from your life, and one of the few things people have in common all over the world.

That being said, I ought to write my first posing shoes about Dr. Marten’s legendary 1460 8-hole boots:

 

Dr. Marten, 1460 8-hole in black

 

My father first became Dr. Marten fan when I was still living in South Korea.  That was before when Dr. Marten started their official exporting to Korea.  So how did he know about Dr. Marten?  Living in the center city, it is very easy to be exposed to cutting-edge trendy stuff, voluntarily and involuntarily.   My guess is, my dad was looking for a new pair of shoes, stumbled into local shoe store carrying their direct import shoes, introduced to these sturdy and comfy pair of shoes, and fell in love with them ever since.

Through him I got my first two pairs of DM.  One looked like 2976 (Chelsea) but with more round, upward toe, black.  Another one was the famous 1460 in black.  When my parents’ friends visited our home, they would joke “so your kid is going to army soon?” upon seeing my 1460.  I wore it pretty much all the time with anything.  When I was leaving to States, I carried 1460 with me in my luggage.  Even in States, I would wear it constantly.  Though lesser than when I first got them, I would still keep them, carry them wherever I go and wear them frequently.

One night in my college junior year, I found I can no longer wear my beloved first pair of 1460 black.  Being DM, it was ever-sturdy; but the sole started to crack everywhere visibly, and where the yellow stitch holds sole together with leather started to crack too.  My toes would get cold.

Only then I realized, that this 1460 travelled everywhere with me for more than 10 years.  In Michigan, in Illinois, in Indiana, in Japan, in Korea.  It ran the grass fields of Illinois with me.  It walked the snow-covered fields of Michigan with me.  It walked the campus parking lots with me in Indiana.  It walked the busy pedestrian roads of Tokyo with me.  It walked around Incheon Airport multiple times with me.  Physically, it was closer to me than my parents for the past 8,9 years of my life. Me and my 1460 black – by then we have been together for 12+ years.   But it has to go – its time came to the end.

So just like that, with a small vacuum in my hand, sitting on my bed, I was staring my old pairs of 1460 on Friday night, with lot of melancholy and emotions swirming in me.

Next day, I took my 1460 to the dorm’s shoe donation box.

Then, I ordered another pair of 1460 black. Unlike old days, this new pair isn’t made in UK.  But it’s still that black 1460.

We all know DM is such a unique iconic shoes for rebels and counter-culture movements.  Kurt Cobain wore it.  Joey Ramones wore it.  Joe Strummer wore it.  When Sex Pistoles and their gangs trashed the club, DM was on their feet. Charlatans are still wearing it and so does Avril Lavigne. Sure, it is special because it is a certain statement: screw you, leave me alone.

Yet DM is special to me because some other reason.  Would my 2nd pair of 1460 black will travel all over, like my 1st pair?  I can’t tell, but I hope so.  One thing I know is, no matter how old I am, wherever I am and what kind of journey I am on, I will carry my 2nd pair of 1460 with me, just like my 1st pair.

Postponing Everything

It has been 5 days since I am grounded in my bed, wasting away tons of tissues blowing my nose away and with a voice of Janis Joplin, two octaves lower.  I still can’t believe how the germ decided to attack me like 9 hours before my 2nd LSAT.  Fu*k you, germs.  But what is good about still thinking about something that’s been already done.  Oh well.

Few days before LSAT, I started to have a really bad rhinitis.  So bad that one night it actually woke me up, because one of my sinus was completely blocked and I couldn’t breathe well.  Ever since I moved back to Seoul, I started to have all this ENT related symptoms whenever the season started to change (I never had one back in the US).   About first time in 10+ years, I had to take another allergy test.  It was good that my rhinitis was not allergic.  One ENT doctor who treated me last time said it is okay to use sinus spray whenever my nose feels stuffy.  Well, another doctor at the same clinic, who recently diagnosed me, said maybe I used the spray too much.  Darn it, whom should I listen to?  皆泥坊か…。 Making the matters worse, X-Ray of my skull revealed I was born with the thicker sinus wall on my right side (the side that always swells and blocks my breathing).  Anyhow his recommendation is to have a surgery, since this is vasomotor rhinitis and it will come back over and over.  Surgery is a scary word, but fortunately this one was fairly simple one with minimum anesthesizing and no bleeding, taking only 30-60 minutes.  I wanted to have the surgery right after my LSAT exam, but before that, common cold attacked me.  What a timing.  obviously doctor said we will have to postpone the surgery to after I am fully recovered from common cold.

Meanwhile I took a productive activity during my illness-grounding.  Fortunately I bought a ton of Christmas/Happy New Year cards already, so for two days I spent all the time writing them in three languages…which can potentially confuse me a great deal, so I used only one language per card-writing day.  Sore throat is getting better with coughing.  But my nose is still running and – excuse me for “ewww” description – even more sticky.  So now my prescription finally includes antibiotics.  And the rhinitis is still here.  A lethal combination.  It’s weird how my body is still warmer than before but my body temperature is normal.  I do feel a bit drowsy though.

I want to go out and have fun and study for my another round of LSAT and get prepared for applications…but I can’t for now.  People say since I’ve been spending 3.5 – 5 hours per day poring over evil LSAT questions and considering all that conscious/unconscious mental stress, it’s so natural that I get sick by now.  And I agree.  Interestingly, I start to see a pattern, mainly because of my unusually high tolerance of stress.  Even the fortune-teller told me “my, you have a very high tolerance of stress, higher than everyone else.”  I don’t know that’s a compliment or what.  But maybe because I really do have a high stress tolerance, I don’t even realize I am that stressed out and so do others.  Then it explodes.

Well, at least on the facade, the life grounded to my bed with germs is alright.  Chocolates, 3 pots of tea per day (Glad I’m a tea-drinker), chips, pepperoni pizza, Sherlock and Daria.  Now I’ll be happy once I’m done with the rhinitis surgery.

Do people have no shame? Or (n)etiquette?

While I checked my blog’s stat for the first time in 5 days, I saw an unusual referer website.  I clicked the link, and it was some LSAT prep blog/website called moststronglysupported.com.  My past posting, God chose me to be his/her prank target today 2 (it’s not even funny) was linked to their December LSAT experience posting as some of the unusual LSAT experience.  Why, thanks – but their summarization of my posting was a tad distorted, and I don’t remember anybody saying to me, even over internet cable and by text, saying “Hello, this is OOO and we would like to link your posting for our XX.”  I sent them (and the post writer) an e-mail.  Unfortunately (and I feel very sorry for my friends of this blog) I have turned the aforementioned posting’s visibility to private until further notice.

I did not sleep at 4.  The only time I used the number 4 on the posting was me having 4 pills of melatonin.

It’s true that things did not go well.  But, I mentioned in the posting that me being healthy would not have made that much of a difference.

And like I said before, no one from the moststronglysupported.com notified me that my posting will be featured on one of their posting.

Usually, I support the idea of sharing over the net space, as long as my “work” is not distorted, people letting me know that they are linking my work, and cited correctly.  Well, I don’t think this is the case.  Maybe I am being extraordinarily picky because I am still sick.  But if you have any experience of people stealing your work uploaded (which you did voluntarily and for the sake of sharing benefitting everyone including yourself) without saying anything to you, and/or facebook-stalked by someone you’d rather not get in touch again or completely unfamiliar pervert person, you will feel for me.

Most of all, I did not start this blog to solely entertain readers with silly stories, let alone making others feel superior by saying “oh boy, well I didn’t have to go through that!” than myself or friends.  To me, this blog is where I get to chit-chat and relate to each other (ranting included), with people who can share their stories or feelings with me.  In short, my blog intends to be a nice little circle of sharing stories.

My apologies to the loyal readers and friends, and I hope you to understand the inconvenience.

And well, yeah, okay, I admit, I feel sick and I can be a bit cranky.

Paul Weller / Noel Gallagher (Oasis) – One Way Road

I wanna get high, but I never could take the pain
‘Cos it would blow away my soul like a hurricane
Like a one man band clapping in the pouring rain
If I know where I’m going, I don’t know from where I came

Where we gonna be in summertime?
And are we gonna see the heavens shine,
Like diamonds in the sky?

As soon as they come
The feelings they go
All alone, on a one way road
As soon as they come
The feelings they go
All alone, on a one way road

I wanna get high, but I really can’t take the pain
‘Cos it will blow away my soul like a hurricane
I’m like a one man band clapping in the pouring rain
If I know where I’m going, I don’t know from where I came

Where we gonna be in summertime?
And are we gonna see the heavens shine,
Like diamonds in the sky?

As soon as they come
The feelings they go
All alone, on a one way road
As soon as they come
The feelings they go
All alone, on a one way road

All that whining music saved me

 

Oasis

 

 

Radiohead

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some people are not a big fan of downbeat, introspective, dark shoegazing music.  I.E, sissy and whinny.  Music does affect people’s mood.  For this reason, there are plenty of people claiming a depressed person should avoid listening to these sissy sad music; some goes further, dissing these bands/musicians altogether.  “Look,” they say, “stop locking yourself up in your bedroom and play that silly music all the time.  Come out and enjoy the weather.  Listen to some happy music.  That will cheer you up for sure.”

It’s not entirely untrue; but looking back my life, that didn’t hold true for me.

Plastic Tree

I might look like a normal geeky kid with no trouble record, decent grade and alright relationship with people, but I was so lonely in highschool.  After experiencing some tough incidence in my junior high, I knew that anyone can possibly backstab me and I’d better be careful.  I also knew that small community of girls can be very tiring – all that gossiping and making a big deal out of nothing.   I don’t know whether it was because of my INTJ man-scanning instinct or experience, but either way I am not all-out open person when I first meet someone.   My high school was a big, elite-club, cliquish bubble community.  Everyone knew each other – even teachers and students, since the school had preschools to high school.  Think of J-Crew catalogues.  Imagine Gossip Girl and Desperate Housewives: now move the setting to small, wealthy Midwestern town.  If you still can’t imagine, watch this:

Now you have the idea – I almost had goosebumps when I first saw this video, because it was so like my high school.

I turned for Korean student community.  After all, I wanted to try what it is like, and was excited to see that many Koreans in my school.  I thought I would have no problem, because I’m Korean.  Soon I started to see my expectation was wrong.  I could never understand why Korean kids always have to do everything together, even if you have to sit with someone you really don’t like during lunch.   If they spot you hanging out with some white kids or bail out of some kind of group activity because of your schedule, all of sudden the whole Korean community started to bash on you and deem you as some sort of traitor.

I still don’t understand why Koreans are so obsessed with “proper treatment of senior classmen” even when they are no longer in Korean school.  If you fail to use honorifics Korean or fail to call your (Korean) senior classmen with sunbae nim, again you just turned the entire Korean student community to your enemy.  I still don’t understand why Korean students HAVE to go to Korean church, when there are hundreds of other churches or religious community.  Lastly, I still do not see why the seniors expect you to do whatever they tell you to, and get flipped if you don’t, even with a proper explanation and excuse (they believe you are simply lying).   No wonder why so-called Global Club was consisted entirely of Koreans.  After my first year with Korean Student club Global Club, I quitted.  That was also the last time I ever joined any kind of Korean club.

I hung out of some Korean girls, mostly out of social appropriation and not making any enemy.  I couldn’t really be a full member of that group – after our school vacation, they would always bring some Korean pop CD and magazine to share.  While all of them are giggling about this new Korean actress and drama, I was really not interested (I tried).   For some reason, they were able to distinguish this actress from that actress while they were in States; I couldn’t.  I tried to listen my favorite Japanese pop album, then a plenty of them flat refused my suggestion, saying they don’t like to listen to a singing in foreign language.

Dir en grey

By nature I enjoy being alone and capable of doing many things on my own (example: I can totally eat alone in the big restaurant).  However I was lonely and felt there was no one to turn to.  Until I find two of my good friends (bless their souls), all that whinny, sissy music was the only thing I can turn to.   I tried some happy pops, but I couldn’t really fall for it.  The words were about some distant world that I’m not a part of.

That was my blowhole.  Listening to these musics in my bed, doing nothing, with open window, cold winter breeze and sometimes snow, I could let all the things I wanted to say out – the things that no one quiet understood at the time.  That’s probably why I can’t let go of them, no matter how these bands fell into mannerism/plagiarism/bad music/breakup, etc.  They are part of me.  If they were not there, I really don’t know what would have become of me.  And I’m glad I was able to reach out for the music.

The Adventure of Big Library

Usually I study at my local public – to be more specific, ward – library.  Every first and third Wednesday they close down.  I can’t really study at home.  So I searched up some other public libraries around my home, and booya, a gigantic, newly built National Library was only 3 subway stops away.  This Wednesday was the closing day of the aforementioned library.  I took the day as a chance to check out and study at fancy new National Library.

 

Fancy, no?

 

After 3 stops, I placed my feet on the Express Terminal station.  It’s Korean equivalent of Shinjuku station – huge, and most people are bound to get lost.  I was, too, ending up spending quiet energy on walking around, figuring the closest exit and the fastest way to get to that exit through the crazy underground market, terminals, random plazas and department store.  With 15 minutes walking on the uphill, I arrived at the library.  A fancy glass building and gigantic gray stone building were standing there.  As I set my foot in, the first thing I saw was entry card registration.  Not a big deal – they had computers and staffs, so all I needed to do was sign up through that computer, show my photo ID to the staff and get my card.  As I was about to walk in, another big signboard stopped me: please place your personal belongings and bags to the locker.  Understandable.  There is always someone stealing stuff from the public library.  Besides, the lockers are free.  I won’t complain.  Being a rule follower, I stepped back and walked into the locker area.   I put my bag in, taking out only what I need: timer, LSAT questions and some pencils.   Now I can properly walk in and use the library.

With my arm full of books and pencils, I headed to the card-swipe gate.  Even before I take out my card, the person at the kiosk said dryly:

“You can’t take your personal books into the library.”

Did I hear that correctly?

So I can’t bring my own books into the public library?  I was dumbfounded, and had no choice but to say:

“Excuse me?”

“Personal books are not allowed in the library.”

You can’t bring your own books to public library?!?!

This is ridiculous.  What are the libraries are for?  Other than storing the books and documents, public libraries provide a space for everyone to study the documents.  It is built from my tax and my parents’ tax.  Now, as a tax-paying citizen, I’m in the library to use the facility yet I can’t bring any of my books.  Fine, but then what’s the use for all that fancy gigantic buildings?  Even New York City library doesn’t do that.  All they do is checking your bags upon entering and leaving.  As long as you don’t bother other users, you are free to read/study whatever you want.

Had I was in States, I’d definitely asked “well, can I know why at least?”  I bet the staff would have answered my question.  But well, I’m in Korea and I know how to be a good girl.  Don’t question.  I just backed out.  On my way back, I also checked their “digital library.”  Again, despite the huge space and fancy interior, I can’t bring any of my personal books, let alone sit and read.  So there, I blew up a good half of my day, and spent my legpower and calory for walking uphill in vain.

Later on, someone told me the rationale behind the no-personal-book policy.  The library used to be open to everyone.  Then loads of poor youngsters (like myself) who are struggling to get a job/study for TOEFL (which is necessary for getting a job in Korea)/study for public officer exam/study for teacher’s license exam flooded, spending hours in the library, thus deterring the people who “really have to use the library.”

I find it a bit absurd.  How come the people who need study space is not considered as one of those who really have to use the library?  If they wanted to narrow the scope of library users, why bother building a big-ass building?  Waste of money, isn’t it?  At the same time, all the city/ward libraries are open to students who just want to bring their own stuff and study.  If the library did not want to have a massive flood of students looking for studying space,  I think there are better ways than prohibiting bringing personal books – they could set the time limit, or charge.  Have they not expected this, then they should have provided more study spaces.  I complained this to my family, and unintentionally I mentioned the New York City library.  Obviously I heard the same answer again: “well, well, it’s Korea.”  Oh bugger, I forgot it again.

But then, maybe the politicians should stop throwing false promises and catchy, cool (=international) phrases when they have no freaking idea in reality.  Stop babbling about how Seoul will catch up with New York City.  Building fancy buildings will not magically turn National Library as good as French/American/German/British National Library, let alone better.  Well, I shouldn’t be surprised: this country’s government said they plan to turn South Korea into one of the top bike-friendly city.  All they did was build a bike lane out of already narrow pedestrian lane.  And the bike lanes don’t even connect to each other.  Try biking for your commute.  You’ll either get a lung infection or run over by a random car.  Now, nothing is being said or done about the “World’s top three biking friendly country.”  Same with Songdo International City.  All is well, but it’s turning into semi-ghost commuter’s bedtown – what “international city” when there is less than ten international companies renting out office?  Well, who would? There’s Singapore and Hong Kong and Malaysia and Shanghai right next to us.

I still have a long way to be a proper Korean.  Will I ever be?  Shrug.