2010-2011

2010 has been an eventful and tumultous year for the world, as well as for all the individuals in it. There were good things, there were bad things, there were crazy things. The global economy was still not in good shape, there were natural disasters, freak weathers, as well as unstable world politics. While the rest of the world celebrate the new year with fireworks and whatever additional festivities each nation can provide, I would assume that many others would prefer avoiding the noise and chaos of it all, and just relax in the comforts of their home in peace and comfortable solitude.

Which was precisely what I had done. We watched the Drama Awards, had a delicious end-of-the-year dinner with champagne (in a country where 20 year-olds can drink legally), baked cupcakes, and spent the night relaxing instead of visiting the Charles bridge area for the New Year fireworks every year. Not only is the weather unusually cold this year, but we've been driving to the bridge area every year since 2005, and by the fifth year nothing was particularly new or exciting about it. It's just become a routine, something that we ought to do because it's the last day of December. It's a little sad, but part of the magic seems to have disappeared from all the familiarity.

At the stroke of midnight, the sound of fireworks started to crackle outside, but nothing around me had changed. I did step out of the house momentarily to admire the occasional glimpse of lights and the echo of fireworks while shivering from the cold, and that was all I needed for festivities.

With the new year comes new responsibilities. As a college junior facing her second semester, I must now (horror of horrors) seriously consider grad school and career options, and need to prep myself for the real world that I am yet so childishly unprepared. I also need to focus more on my studies, continue adjusting into apartment life, and learn how to treat friends, acquaintances, and strangers the right way without sacrifing my sincerity or being a pushover.

Of course, there are still old responsibilities you need to maintain, such as keeping your basic physical/mental health and hygiene in check, behaving like a civilized human being, and calling extended family in the new year.

As dad whips out his mighty Samsung Galaxy and announces "We should say Happy New Year to family in Korea", my brother and I look at each other with mixed emotions.

It's not that I particularly dislike wishing people a Happy New Year. I have nothing in particular against any of my relatives and am largely neutral/positive about them as a whole. Still, you do feel a bit mechanical hearing the same thing over and over again from relatives and you say the same thing repeatedly every year.

Most Relatives say in the following order:

1) How are you?
2) It's good to be home, isn't it?
3) Happy New Year, study hard, stay healthy, don't fight with your brother.

You reply in the following order:

1) I'm fine.
2) Yes.
3) Yes, yes, yes, yes.
4) Oh, and Happy New Year. ("Stay healthy" added for the grandmothers)

As we say our greetings to the primary individuals, my brother and I wish that would be the end... but alas, we must always confront our uncle, my father's oldest brother, on the phone this day every year. He is... interesting, to say it very nicely. And whenever he lectures you, it leaves you cringing, facepalming, or sighing in defeat. Or all three at once. I am sure he is a good person, but the fact remains that his speech is not too much to be desired. (I hope my cousin is not a regular reader of this blog, welp)

Dad dials the numbers. My usually stoic brother is reduced to a giant heap of fear, like a pig in a slaughterhouse waiting to die. I will refrain from transcribing the actual exchange, save for the fact that the first thing he said to me was, "What was your name again?"

...that should be enough to get a glimpse of how the exchange went, as our parents chuckled at their childrens' various silent emotional reactions.

Happy New Year, everybody.

This will probably make me seem like an otaku...

...but I have watched all of Panty and Stocking with Garterbelt.

So far I have not watched another Gainax-made show other than Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann, but I do know the concept of a Gainax ending, and although the finale was made of pure "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO TO US", once I recovered from the initial reaction of "WHUT", I managed to get a laugh out of the whole thing. It's like a Gainax ending and a parody of next season hooks on American cartoons/television shows after all resolution of conflicts (and mindscrew) rolled into one.

Well played, Gainax. Well fucking played. Oh, you guys.

Also, seeing everyone freak out about how it ruined their Christmas was hilarious.

Jetlag in Roma Diaries 2: Christmas Edition

I am up at 5:30. Again.

Don't blame me! I can't help it if we came back early from our touring and there was nothing else to do!

Friday, Dec 24:

We went to the Vatican.
Needless to say, it was an impressive sight. The inside of the building was probably the biggest Catholic churches I've ever seen. Sculptures and paintings and marbles and carvings were abound in every corner. We also went to an exhibition of what popes of the past have used for masses, ceremonies and the like. Dad commented a little disapprovingly that the Catholics were "too luxurious and gaudy" with their items compared to Buddhists (well, the stuff was all gold and jewels). Mom chided him for being potentially "religiously intolerant". Oh well.

We then went to the museum, which included the Sistine Chapel, and we saw a variety of exhibits including Egyptian items, tapestries, maps, Greek sculptures, and of course, the paintings in the Sistine Chapel.

...and then it rained.
and poured.
and poured.

We thought the rain would subside after having lunch, but the rain was as strong as ever.
We decided to make way to the subway station first and decide what to do with the rest of the day.
The walk in the rain proved that, it sucks, but we should just go back to the hotel, because there was no way anybody could tour in this shower. We'll come out again once it calms down.

It never did calm down the entire evening, and we just ended up having dinner and kinda stranded in the hotel room, where the subway closed at 9PM because it was Christmas Eve.

...welp, Merry Christmas!

We leave for Firenze (Florence) on Christmas day.

The Jet lag in Roma Diaries

I fell asleep at around 8PM-ish after dinner. I woke up at 2. I guess this is what happens when you're slightly jetlagged and you go on a family trip.At least I'm not dropping to the ground at 5 or 6 like last year.

It is a good thing that my brother brought his laptop. It is also a good thing that wireless is free here. It is most good that I know how to hack into my brother's code-locked laptop.

Monday, Dec 20:

Arrived in CZ without any problems and arrived home. We had no tree, but mom had decorated the house with enough lights and Christmas bulbs that it was okay. There was a new sofa in the house.

My brother, who came a day before me, had significantly lost weight and had dropped a shirt size. Well damn, now that XXL Michigan shirt is going to be too big for him. Lucky bastard.

Ate delicious home food in the form of rice, seaweed soup, steamed eggs, chicken, kimchi, and salad. I MISSED HOME FOOD SO MUCH MY COOKING HAS LIMITS BAAAAAAW.

My mother had also become a  JYJ fan while we were away. I don't know whether to be amused or afraid.


Tuesday Dec 21:

The car trip to Italy begins.

...and that's all there is to it, really. We just drove the entire day, stopping occasionally for gas, bathrooms, and eating. We did see the Alps on the way, though, which was neat. Arrived at Verona in the night and found a place to sleep.


Wednesday Dec 22:

Arrived in Rome a little later because my dad was absolutely exhausted. Toured round several tourist spots in Rome in the evening, leaving my dad to rest. Gelato is pretty good here, obviously.


Thursday, Dec 23:

Headed out in the morning to see the Colosseum. Also saw some ruins nearby, as well as other historic buildings (pardon my lack of using names, it's 5:40 AM and my mental state is not at its best.)

What is immediately noticeable is the weather. It is not cold. At all.
Venice? It was freezing. Barcelona? It was kinda chilly.
Rome? It's practically warm. It WAS actually warm during midday, much to my confusion.
The only reason I haven't ditched my winter jacket was for the sole reason that it was effective for blocking the strong winds. Goddamn this is probably the warmest holiday season spent in Europe.


Friday, Dec 24:

I dropped and fell asleep without showering around 8PM.

When I opened my eyes to search for a clock, it said it was a little over 2AM.

Took a shower, watched TV, and now hacked into this laptop for the internet. We're supposed to get up early to go to the Vatican in the morning, anyway, might as well stay up a bit (or take a short nap again, depending). Hooray for jet lag.



More to come soon, I suppose.
And of course, the mandatory (?) facebook pictures after the trip is over.

Snowed In

Well, here I am, still in Ann Arbor, lazying about with a laptop on my lap, wondering how to spend my extra day in a fun, productive manner. I've already watched a show; I guess I should head to the kendo apt at some point to chill and receive cookies.

My flight to Amsterdam was cancelled yesterday due to the MOTHERFUCKING SNOWSTORM that is striking large chunks of the European continent.

My brother, who somehow had been able to go to Frankfurt, is currently stuck in the Frankfurt airport for hours on end. At least he's in a location where, should the worst come to be, my dad can pick him up via car.

Although the Prague airport is been told to be fine, it does make me worry about whether I'll actually get home. Getting stranded in Detroit where I have an apartment to go to is one thing. Getting stranded in JFK with a bunch of strangers is another.

Also, I have to see whether I can procure an extra airbus ticket, though it kinda seems unlikely.

Also, being stupid, I haven't eaten. Sigh.

This winter just decided to mess with me, hasn't it?

Mindscrew

It's Wednesday evening, and I'm slaving away on my final psychology project for PSYCH 303. This extension had better be valid, otherwise I have a legitimate reason to object to any potential grading penalties.

In order to finish this project, I have been slaving away at night, going to bed at ungodly hours for about two days in a row. As a result, my brain has kind of melted, which leads to this sort of visions in my sleep.

1: I dreamt that my family and I were in the airport going to the States, and we had a pet squirrel. The airport guy asked if we were taking the squirrel along.
"It will be xxx dollars", he said, which I don't remember the price, but it was way more than any sane man was willing to pay.
We stared at each other in silence, and I said, "Well, it's just a squirrel. There's plenty of squirrels in the US, too".
Everyone agreed. I let the squirrel loose outside the airport.

"...You're abandoning me? How could you?"

***

2: Unrelated to the first dream, I had somehow gotten myself lost in a huge airport duty free store. Also, horror of horrors, I was stark naked. Somehow I was trying to take a shower in the store for some incomprehensible reason, but the shower room was occupied by some old man, which left me stranded outside. To add to the mortification, Antai found me there.

(oh dear god why.)

As most sane people would react if they were seen by their friend with nothing but their birthday suit IN AN AIRPORT, I panicked, HARD.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH I'M SO SORRY I TRIED TO TAKE A SHOWER AND THEN I GOT STRANDED AND THIS USUALLY DOESN'T HAPPEN TO ME AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH" I wailed. Antai was surprisingly chill about all this. "Aww, don't worry, I'll help you," he said.
He somehow got me some clothes to wear, and he washed my hair. I said "EHHHH?! it's okay I can wash my hair myself NO REALLY", but he did it anyway.

...I have no other explanation than that this is how I generally feel when Antai feels the need to correct my kendo, as I am not as good as I would like to be and generally feel horribly ashamed of myself when something doesn't go right. But you know, it still doesn't stop me from going "WHAT THE FUCK, THAT IS ALL SORTS OF AWKWARD AND WRONG."

***

3: I was in a lecture hall, taking the last lecture of... some class, I'm not sure (ENG 376?), and Robert randomly decided to audit it. The professor walked around the seats to see if we took proper notes, chatting up with the students along the way. I have no idea why. When he came to me and looked at my notes, he remarked that my doodles were nice.
Embarrassed, I muttered "It helps me concentrate". He then wanted to check what sort of makeup I had on. I didn't have any makeup on, and I told him so.

***

4: I dreamt that I kept walking past a yellow rooster; there was a whole story behind this and the yellow rooster was a sort of symbolism, but I no longer remember.

Then I ran towards a yellow suitcase at a parking lot.

Then somehow I was Harry Potter, and the yellow suitcase was mine.

"Hey, Harry, wanna ride the car back home this year? We can take a drive through London!" Ron Weasly said as he pointed to his non-magical black van that he procured from god knows where.
"Well, sure, but you're forgetting that neither of us know how to drive," I said.

 "Yeah, remember that last time?"

 After Ron left, I, for some reason, went inside the car and fiddled with the stick. WHY I WOULD DO THAT AFTER STATING THAT I CAN'T DRIVE IS A COMPLETE MYSTERY. I guess that's how Harry Potter rolls.

I accidentally started the car and it started to move on its own. I tried to stop it, but I failed, and as the car entered the road, I had no choice but to drive it to get it out of the way somehow. I had somehow gotten myself into five consecutive police chases, but by and large came out unscathed. I used magic to make the car invisible and drove on.

Moments later, I had ended up in some downtown area where they were blaring Latin music. I used magic to apparate the car back to the original place, thinking I was safe to walk here.

Oh, was I ever so wrong.

 Not exactly Park Guelle, but the general structure is similar. The dreamscape resembled a downtown area that I passed on the way to Park Guelle.

There seemed to be some sort of festival going on in the area; ladies in colorful dresses were dancing to the music. Other people were dancing to the music, screaming, cheering. The atmosphere was so festive, everyone seemed so cheerful there. Confettis were all around and sprays of red occasionally flew about the air.

That was when I saw piles of dismembered human flesh and organs laid around my feet.
When I looked up, I saw that thin slices of raw meat flew out of nowhere and latched itself onto some people. The people still danced around with meat stuck on their bodies, except with a look of panic and danced frantically, maniacally, as if to get the meat slices off. They stuck onto the bodies as if they were also part of them.

In sight of the meat, dozens of people dived forward, trying to eat off the raw meat. The victims screamed. The crowd cheered. I saw a man with his entire torso eaten, blood shooting out of his body like a fountain, while his legs still twiched and the people, covered in blood, still biting hunks of flesh out of him.

I felt like I was going to throw up, not to mention that, "HOLY FUCK I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW."

I ran back with all my might, when suddenly a piece of raw meat wrapped itself around my leg. I screamed and kept on running, praying that nobody would notice the meat stuck on my leg, hopelessly trying to tear it off. I ran in a speed I never thought imaginable for me (or me as Harry Potter), and to my greatest relief, the meat came off, and I ran, and I saw nothing but white light ahead of me...

***

... when I was greeted by the green numbers on my alarm clock flashing 10:30 A.M.

I guess this is my brain telling me to sleep at normal hours.
Soon, brain, soon.

On being "Girly and Purty"

I have, by the grand old age of twenty, pretty much established at this point in time that I am not in any way physically attractive. I mean, yes, there is one individual who will relentlessly say otherwise, but one man's opinion as opposed to others isn't exactly going to cut it. Even parents would call their ugly mess of a child beautiful, after all. Oh well, not everyone is born with mindblowingly hot faces.

I happened to cross paths with a group of boys today, who, if I wasn't being delusional, seemed to point and snicker at a short little girl with glasses wearing a blue and gray striped shirt, jeans, a thick long brown jacket, worn out beige backpack, and white Nike sneakers with pink stripes. AKA me.

I can hear fashion gurus wringing their hands in horror. I admit the color coordination of my attire is pretty horrible. But I also tend to not give a damn on what I'm wearing if I'm busy with school. Damn it, all you need to do is take care of basic hygiene and not be naked to class. I'm studying for exams here! Who's thinking of makeup and jewelry and fashion-conscious clothes when you have stuff to do?! (Also, my laundry wasn't dry yet so I had no other shirts to wear.)

Although I have heard much worse from boys in my lifetime, being a human being with basic social cues, I of course was much irked at such a reaction. Yes, I know  I'm not pretty, you'll probably never "tap that". Can we please move on? You're in college and should be acting more maturely than this.

But alas, I meet the same guys again as I go and print my Psych homework. As I swing the computer lab door open, my eyes meet theirs, and a look of recognition comes to them. They huddle and quiet down. I'm not sure if they know that I can understand them, but I look pretty Korean, so that should be a giveaway already.

(Again, I realize I may be super paranoid and they might not actually be talking about me, but seeing how they laughed at me in the afternoon, the probability is there.)

The guys start talking, leaving out the subject of the sentence (probably because I was in earshot)

"Good enough for you?" says one guy.

"I told you, I'm not settling for anything less than Shin Min-ah!" proclaims the other guy.

"But you're not good enough for Shin Min-ah." Another guy says with a snicker.

"Hey!"

By the way, this is the lovely Shin Min-ah.

(I think she'd say no to college guys, as she's much older and it would be creepy.)

Eh.

Guys want hot girls, nothing's new, end of story. But shoot me if it didn't sting a little.

Perhaps I should have gone straight up tomboy, not giving a damn about such girly matters as beauty and just be proud and manlier than other guys. I already have the voice and an affinity for action to set me off in that route. Also, I'm already "manlier" than my boyfriend in some ways (he knows more fashion brands than I do, for starters.)

I also like testosterone-fueled shows like TTGL. Whee explosions!

But alas, being born a heterosexual girl with a fragment of girliness, I do care. I may do kendo and rave over the manliness of Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann, but I will fawn over pretty dresses and makeup on another day. And no matter what people say, my face is not something that will magically transform into that of a supermodel if I look at myself in the mirror and talk to myself enough. That's freaking brainwashing, not real life.

So while I detest having to be jeered at by several immature strangers on a college campus, I also don't feel like throwing away makeup and tearing off dresses in rebellion. There are better things to do in life.

So the take-away lesson of today's incident is:

AT LEAST ANIMALS REALLY LIKE ME.

...

*goes to a corner and sighs*

The World is Big

And we are insignificant specks compared to others. Sometimes we think we're brilliant people, though, and it takes something to occur to humble you and realize that oh, hey, I'm not a big shot after all.

See, it was my grand project to create a blog that explains stuff going on in Korea, maybe comment on several current events or two, receive questions from other users about Korea so that I can answer them. I was foolish enough to think that there wouldn't be any blogs that already did that - at least, any EXTENSIVE, PROMINENT blogs.

Ask a Korean is already such a blog, and damn it, his posts are extremely well written.

You can see in some topics that he really did the research, citing multiple sources and providing extensive background information to the extent that I would not have done, while delivering it all with a witty and objective writing style. Well, damn. It was more than my measly beginnings of a blog could ever have offered, seriously.

And thus, my little beginnings of the Other Blog started to look very informal and stupid in comparison.

And I am now left with a sort of helplessness as I look at my newly-hatched project, shamed before it even had a chance to blossom. What to do?

The quickest, easiest way would be to nip the bud, terminate the embarrassing project and pretend it never existed. Unfortunately, my pride does not settle for quits.

I could, perhaps, amass information to the extent as Ask a Korean and end up as a mediocre (and unintentional) imitation of his blog. But not only is that unoriginal, this guy knows what he does and delivers it good enough. He's a friggin attorney for crying out loud.

Or, I could try to somehow diffentiate the blog somehow, take a slight change in its direction, and see how it goes. While this option seems the most appealing, there is the obvious question of: then how should I go about with my Other Blog?

Oy.

(Edit: Upon realizing that I would not have the time or effort to keep updating my Other Blog in a consistent manner, and realizing that my entries sucked a lot more than I realized, I deleted the Other Blog.)

(My work schedule is screwed and I need to pick myself up)

Happy Halloween!

May your sleep schedules and productivity not suffer from a messed-up one like mine.

From the lethal pumpkin latte that made me forfeit sleep on Thursday to a late night totally safe party with a few close friends, my sleep schedule is messed beyond repair, and my brain is not working.

I need to produce an essay proposal by tomorrow (I have given up on coming up with one and submitting it today) and I have no freaking clue what to write about.

Meanwhile, I still need to finish my psych paper, and finish a book which I have barely read.

I am only glad there are no exams right now.

In a continuous cycle of super productivity and extreme laziness and slacking off, I have, once more, hit the pits again. Three days have been enough, time to start anew.

...god I have no motiviation. Somebody help me.

A nice little dinner AND LIKE WHOAH.

After much trials and tribulations - meaning, 1) Neither of us could quite find nice clothes to wear and fumbled around 2) I crashed after a pumpkin-latte induced no-sleep night from Thursday and 3) Finding the right time and place for this FINALLY, Robert and I had a nice dinner and hung out, and while a bit irked by circumstances, was able to talk it out and generally have a nice time.

Which, of course, is not the reason why this blog entry is here.

After enjoying a bit of free pool at UMix, we decided to stop at Pinball Pete's to play some games, while we walked around looking for games to play, I spotted a certain thin, tall man with dark brown hair reaching just below the ears that seemed so familiar...

The guy also looked at me for about three seconds before a glimmer recognition formed between us.

Then it struck me.

Holy shit.

It's Spencer!!!!

(The best rendition of him that I can manage on MS Paint)

Of all the GSIs I've had so far, Spencer is special. Not only is he the first GSI I've ever had, he's the only one who I had for two semesters, the one who caused a minor yet very memorable incident with the exam question on Great Books 2 final, and, of course, his class was the one that Robert and I was in, which made us become friends, and finally, a couple. So yes, Spencer is special.

And, of all the places, he was at Pinball Pete's, right when Robert and I were together.
I cannot believe my eyes.

"Hi, how have you been?" Spencer asks good-naturedly. He still has that nice but awkward-sounding voice as if he's a shy student doing a class presentation OH MY GOD HE HASN'T CHANGED.

"I'm good! How are you?" I try to keep my voice in control, my face straight, anything to NOT FREAK OUT HOLY SHIT IT'S ACTUALLY SPENCER IN FRONT OF ME. Also, I call Robert back from a distance to come over here.

As soon as Robert turns around, I see a transition of recognition - disbelief - amusement in his facial expression, and his face screaming IS THIS SPENCER, REALLY?!

Surprisingly, Spencer also recognizes Robert, and we have some small talk before he asks us the obvious question of, "So, what are you guys doing here together?"

Robert and I look at each other with higly amused faces.

"You see, it's a funny thing actually - we ended up getting together shortly after your class ended."
"Oh, that's so sweet!" Spencer replies, amused at the turn of events.

This moment.

Everybody has a hypothetical moment which they wish would happen in real life so that they'll be thoroughly amused. For about a year and a half, we have conjectured about this moment in our imagination, doing a "Wouldn't it be funny if Spencer knew we got together?", a running joke between us, something to amuse ourselves with.

To add to the amusement, it was not too long ago that we conjectured that Spencer probably graduated by now, and that our amusing notion will forever remain an amusing notion in our collective imagination.

The amusing notion just hit us square in the face in the form of a night in Pinball Pete's.

We eventually part, and when we were in a safe distance from Spencer, we just burst out into giggles of disbelief.

"Holy crap, did that actually happen?!"
"Did we actually run into Spencer?!"
"I thought he'd have graduated already!"
"Oh my god"
"...WOW."

We couldn't quite concentrate in our games, and we remained giggling and just being BLOWN OUT OF OUR MINDS till we reached my apartment, where we continued being Spencer-shocked from it all.

On a completely unrelated note, a skunk had apparently run loose somewhere in Ann Arbor and was letting its aroma linger near the apartment. I have never smelled skunk odor before, and from a far-off distance, it smells like something vaguely toxic burning in a fire.

Also, we got fortune cookies that was creepily accurate for our situations.

For Robert, who bit into an innocuous dumpling from UMix to find it was full of peas, which he is allergic:

"Forgive the action, forget the intent".

For me, who didn't call my parents like I always do on Fridays:

"Most importantly, keep in touch with your family".

A magical night all around, indeed.

A Weekend of Kendo-ing

...lame title in lack of anything better to name the entry.

Kendo weekend.

This Saturday and Sunday, we had a double-whammy of Kendo tournament and promotion test at MSU. While it was certainly the most hectic weekend ever, the need to study for exams tomorrow is rather interfering with the ability to write a lengthy, thought-out blog, and I don't think I can come up with one due to brain fatigue. I will try to do my best with a journal log-esque entry.

Saturday: Tournament.

1. Met up with people in front of Espresso Royale at 7AM. Early, yes, but not as that of the Detroit tournament, where people had to convene at 5.

2. Ken and Alex came as returning alumni to fight with us! Yay!
We have lots of beginners volunteering, Yay!
Alex: It's weird, I can't recognize about half of these people.
Ken: It's okay, I'm sure they're looking at us and going, "Who are these people?"
I missed you guys. Although it really doesn't show given my nonchalant attitude.

3. EMU: so close by car, you could cry.

4. Matches:
1st match - went against a Korean girl whose rank I could not decipher. But given that I hit some of her blind spots, hoped to at least score points. But she won fair and square, and she eventually went up to third place in women's division, so I guess she was a tough opponent to beat. Earned: bruises on side of chest and waist.

2nd match - MATCH OF PAIN. Went against a guy in EMU, said guy repeatedly slammed the shinai on my right hand and several on my head that hurt. Bad. Also got a nasty hit on my right arm that I couldn't fight for a while. Kiai became very loud and aggressive, because they were SCREAMS OF PAIN. Exited the arena with a loss of feeling in my right hand, swollen right arm, and tears. BRB crying like a baby because it hurt that bad.

(Brian also got a nasty fall on the back on the head after match. Reported extended time of pain and feeling fuzzy. He did not cry like a baby, the brave trooper.)

5. Antai won first place in mudansha divison. Final match consisted of striking two points within a span of about ten seconds. Bad. Ass. Excuse me while mind is blown. Aww yeah, gold medal!

6. Lunch in form of delicious Japanese bento, with large quantities of food to boot!

7. Watched Ken and Matt's matches, attempted exam study, Zzz'ed instead.

8. Team match: against MSU.
Team lost by a point. I tied my match with my opponent, only because she seemed to be at a similar skill level. Feeling a teeny tiny bit proud of not losing points at least.

9. Fast-forward to end of tournament and dinner at Chinese restaurant. Traffic is a bitch, and MSU students were being obnoxious in light of their victory in football match. Oh well.


Sunday: Promotion Test

1. Espresso Royale, 7AM again. Bought breakfast food.

2. Sun was rising as we drove to EMU. Pretty!

3. Panic attack, feeling as if I'll fail. Practice doesn't go too well for me.

4. Dread dread dread. I want to pass, it's only 2-kyu, it'd be pathetic if I failed, dread dread dread.

5. Actual test: did it like I had to. Thought I thought I didn't do too well, fumbled a bit on keeping distance and missed a men strike. Loud kiai to compensate.

6. Watched others test.

7. End of test, went to board tentatively to see results.

8. Huh... wait, did I pass? Whoa, I did! Thank goodness! Yay I have a rank!

9. Antai and Brian passed shodan, Everyone trying for 1-kyu passed 1-kyu. Group cheer and merriment.

10. Lunch at Red Robin, fun times and silliness abound.

11. Returned, showered, napped, blogged. EXAM STUDY COMMENCE.


To rate the overall experience by various divisions:

Improvement of skills: 3.5/5. Definitely improved, but still didn't managed to score point. Will have to do better. Kiai is definitely much nicer.
Promotion test: PASSED!
Fun: 5/5. Was definitely fun, comradery and kendo matches abound.

Overall: 4.5/5

That's all, folks!

Chuseok and other things

Every Chuseok (Chinese/Taiwanese people will know it as "Moon Festival") the Korean students of UM have an annual Chuseok dinner, where they provide Korean food, though it costs money. Because of my inherent fear of large social gatherings and the exorbitant $15 fee, I didn't go.

This year, it was $10 for non-members. And this year, I was feeling a little braver about facing people, although I still felt $10 was bit of a rip-off.

I call my friends to come and share some Korean food. Robert, Andrew, and Feiqi come along.

After paying, we sat at the table... waiting. The event was supposed to be at 7 PM, but once again, people seemed to not pay much attention to the time. I have once heard that there used to be such a thing called "Korea time" where people come an hour late. I have also heard that such practices have since disappeared after the 1988 Seoul Olympics, feel free to correct me if I am mistaken.

This is 2010. GET ON WITH THE TIMES. (Pun not intended. But I like the bad pun.)

The performance by Sinabro was pretty good. However, there really wasn't much afterwards. A Korean man came and asked for Korean tutoring help, but said that only students who graduated from Korean high schools were eligible (but, kind sir, surely there is a more fool-proof way, like a test? Having gone to a Korean high school does not automatically ensure quality Korean, surely you know this?) Finally, there was food.

...Only one helping. Only one rice cake. Only a little bit of food for each. And then people left.

I was okay with the portions, but the three guys seemed a bit crushed at the exchange rate of $10 and the meager food. I admit, it seemed kind of like a ripoff. But having rice cake was oh so glorious. I have mixed feelings about this.

Oh well

WELL GUYS, WE'LL GO TO THE MOON FESTIVAL THING ON NORTH CAMPUS ON FRIDAY AND GET A MOON CAKE, ALRIGHT?

In addition, I am more at peace with my socializing issues. I have chatted up with others, they respond to me pretty politely. I still have a long ways to go, but I don't think I'll cry over the issue anymore... at least, for now. I have come to a realization that again, I will not be automatically shunned by groups of people before they even know me. I now have the courage to go talk to them, and I see that there is a potential, an open invitation, for me to hang out with others. Not everybody is an asshole, I can accept and see that there are nice people in this world.

I guess the summer job in Korea did help me get over some issues. Good to know.

Of Trials and Tribulations of Junior year, or at least, the first week of it.

The first week of junior year in college presents an ambiguous future, which is not as reassuring as it being off to a good start, or even a horrible, horrible, start.

Danling and I have more or less settled into our apartments; we have the minimum food for survival, finally got wireless today, and the house is pretty cozy once the furnitures are settled in. It takes time to cook sometimes, yes, but we seem to be semi-adept at it and actually cook decent food that we can stomach with some satisfaction.

However, there are some parts of the house that needs fixing, we need more food, and although we appreciate the quiet and privacy of a two-person apartment, we will not quite get over the apartment envy over Carriage House, Charter House, and that huge historical house built by freemasons where Robert, Feiqi, Annie, Sam, and Chris are living. Seriously, their houses are simply better-looking and better furnished than ours. Oh well.

My class schedules are bordering between "dude, WTF" and "that is sweet"; due to once-a-week lectures for my psych classes and odd time schedules, My Mondays through Thursdays are pretty class-free, and the classes so far have seemed okay. This will open up for studying time and chilling time.

Friday, however, may be difficult with the four discussion sections in a row. Perhaps it's time I invested on drinking coffee. Moreover, an English and Psychology double major equals lots and lots of reading and writing, which I enjoy, but there is such a thing called a limit. Also, one of my professors seem to have a bit of a habit to not make himself clear, and I'd like to really know if I'm supposed to read thirty stories, or two hundred, please, sir? Because knowing the right answer can really save my sanity here.

I seem to be doing okay with my friends so far, we're all jolly and happy.

However, a certain drama llama has been galloping around quite a while which I won't discuss, but I hope... things eventually work out. Yeah.

Outwardly, I am seemingly more sociable and approachable to others.

While inside, I still haven't grown up emotionally and the oblgation to act mature kind of drains me out. And let's not even get started on the subject of my identity issues.

Meanwhile, the rest of the college body seems to be partying it up on weekends and police cars/ambulance cars are whooping all around.

A chipmunk was found dead on our sidewalk.

I need to visit North Quad someday.

I'm sleepy and I really should sleep now.

Kendo practice.

Today (or technically, yesterday) was the first day of kendo practice after classes started.

I wake up early again, trudge along to the CCRB, change into my uniform, put on bogu (after Joe arrived, actually), and beat people up with a bamboo sword.

And I was excited. Really excited.

Perhaps it's not in my nature to become overly excited with things around the world that are not dogs and cats, but as much as I enjoyed doing kendo, I never seemed to have that sparkle in the eyes or the obvious excitement in the voice like the other kendo club friends seemed to possess whenever we do or speak of kendo.

It was, previously, also difficult to see how other people were doing their thing during practice, and it didn't even get in my head to correct them if they were doing something wrong. I was busy being corrected myself.

But at the first practice, I see myself having become a little more integrated with the club atmosphere, being excited to beat people up with sticks, correcting my stances based on others', and correcting a student whose kote stance may have broken people's arms off without intervention. Most importantly, I wasn't scared shitless of people coming at me with bamboo sticks anymore, at least not as scared as last year. I've even managed to chat and have fun with some of the new people who came for kendo lunch.

Perhaps it's the feeling of membership. Perhaps I feel more comfortable being in the club. Perhaps I've learned to chill and interact more like normal people. Hopefully this wasn't a "back-to-class" luck and will continue throughout.

My toe hurts, however. That peeled-off skin shouldn't be causing this much pain.
Also, colliding with a charging Joe-sensei and falling hurts too. It is important to dodge.

Last Lazy Day of Summer (?!)

The reason the word "summer" has a parenthesis filled with punctuation marks of disbelief is because, while technically summer, I fail to see the current weather as such.

As I am typing on my blog, I am wearing a jacket, while covering the rest of my body in my mother's quilt while sitting cross-legged. I rub my hands together every now and then so as to keep them from freezing. Meanwhile, it has been raining outside for hours, and the wind is blowing profusely. Just sticking my head outside makes my arm sprout goosebumps and my legs grow weak. According to the internet, it is currently 12 degrees Celsius outside (that's exactly 53.6 degrees Fahrenheit for you Americans who use odd measuring systems).

As most populations of the world are well aware, today is the last day of August, and I feel like I'm in a refrigerator. As far as my body is aware, this isn't summer anymore.

I should probably be grateful to be cold while the Asian countries are suffocating from heat and humidity that won't let go until mid-September, and by god, I do know how hot it can be there. But if you must pardon me, I'm still too flabbergasted by the season dissonance. Czech Republic isn't that sweltering hot of a place to begin with, yes, but I don't recall it being this cold so soon and so consistently in years. I was wearing a T-shirt and shorts just last week!

Meanwhile, it's my last day here before I leave once more for Ann Arbor to begin my junior year of college. After I've finished tutoring, I really haven't been up to much asides from packing and carrying out basic functions of survival. As I have finished packing, there isn't much to do today either. I should be using this time to enjoy myself one last time, to savor the idleness of summer vacation, but... as my anxiety over moving in an apartment, anxiety over junior year, anxiety over wanting to ACTUALLY socialize THIS YEAR with my own countryfolk despite my ongoing fear/shyness has run my brain amok and I just sit on the sofa like a burnt-out machine, as my brain is on a momentary rut.

The future in Ann Arbor isn't suddenly going to be all rosy and happy just because of my getting there. No, I'm not saying I've had a depressing college life so far, it's far from it. But I still have a ways to go if I want to get rid of my (realively minor) anxieties.

Meanwhile, I'll enjoy living as a human popsicle for today before I return to wearing short clothes again in the States.

Haircut

I thought I needed to write something on this blog to keep it alive, lest I leave it alone for months and let it fester and die. Watch me writing about mundane things in life and get utterly bored!

I cut my hair today.

There is nothing dramatic or spectacular about this; I was not pressured to cut my hair in any way, nor did the hairdresser say any odd or silly things during the cut. Hell, he didn't even mess up my hair. He's a really good hairdresser, which is why I keep choosing to get my hair cut in CZ instead of in AA; he's a safe option (also, the one time I did get my hair cut in AA, it became a mess after a month or two.)

If there was anything worth saying about my haircut, it was that my hair is the shortest it has ever been since... actually, I think this is the shortest it's ever been.

I've been near obsessed with having my hair short since last summer, and for some reason, the length keeps getting shorter and shorter every time I get a haircut.

No, it's not about maintenance; I don't mind maintaining my hair at whatever length it is, and I've had my hair fairly long once without problems. It's not about preference, either. I still think long hair is just as pretty, and I fawn over hairstyles that I cannot achieve with my hair length. So... why am I trying to get my hair shorter? Is it a statement? Am I rebelling against some subconscious message that I have yet to decipher? Am I viewing this as stress relief? I'll never know.

Although, I must say, I do look a lot better in short hair than long hair, which is a relief, since I can continue my inexplicable quest of chopping off my locks without looking hideous. I just hope I'll stop myself before I decide to just shave it all off, because with the rate I'm going, it doesn't seem entirely impossible.

Predators are eating my soul!!!

My dad is a typical man when it comes to movie tastes; he generally likes people kicking ass, stuff blowing up, gunshots, carchase, testosterone-riddled stuff. We watched "Salt" together several days ago and he really liked it.

He then suggested that we watch "Predators" on cinema yesterday. It seems interesting, he says.

Predators?!

I try to do my best to turn down the offer as politely as I could. I try to divert his attention to "Inception", which I wouldn't mind re-watching. He seems bored. I suggest "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" instead, at least that will be more entertaining than Predators! He asks if "The Expendables" (another testosterone-riddled film) isn't on cinema yet. No, it isn't, dad. I tried not waking up my dad yesterday from his nap, but he woke up on time anyways and urged me to get dressed.

Let's watch Predators! Dad says, pronouncing the title "Preh-di-AY-tors".

Somebody help me.

Yes, I could have just said, "No, I don't want to watch Preh-di-AY-tors, it seems really bad", but then my dad is pretty stressed with work as of current, as his business negotiation is dragging longer than anticipated. Manly movies make him feel better. If he wanted to watch it so much, who am I do take that away from him? Better to just grin and bear it.

I decide that if I can't enjoy this movie, I'll just be snarky about it with all my might.

So the movie starts off with a bunch of people waking up from freefall, only to find themselves stranded in a strange forest terrain. The hero of the movie is an American soldier who refuses to reveal his name, and who looks and acts like a testosterone-riddled douchebag. Other members include an old Mexican drug enforcer, a Russian soldier, ablack RUF member, a Japanese Yakuza, a doctor, and an ex-convict who, I recall, was described as, "FBI's most wanted criminal". Oh, also, an American female soldier, beautiful and skilled and knowledgable and just pretty much all around perfect.

>> I see what's going on; the Predators will kill them one by one, and then the American man and woman are going to be the last ones to survive. How predictable. Also, what is with the female characters in Hollywood blockbusters being beautiful and talented and flawless? Forget about girls needing role models, real women aren't that perfect! Women can have flaws, too, you know, and only a handful of them are actually beautiful! That woman is a male fantasy combined with feminist ideas, not a real character! 

And speak no more of the Japanese Yakuza, who's silent and not visibly freaked out by all this. Because he's the "Cool Asian", calm and collected and doing cool martial arts stuff. Bet five dollars that he's going to do some "Cool Asian action" later in the film. God, this movie is already stereotypical.

After a bit of wandering around, they realize that they're in an alien planet, and they still don't know why the hell they were chosen and thrown off on this island. Suddenly, they are attacked by alien creatures, and they try with all their might to fend them off. After they escape generally unharmed, they realize that, oh hey, the Mexican man is missing.

>> Ethnic cleansing, commence!

Turns out that the Mexican guy seems to be injured and is calling for help. They think of helping, but our protagonist douchebag says it's a trap and everybody goes their merry way. Sure enough, it's revealed to be a trap, and the Mexican man is already dead.

>>Nice try with trying to avoid the whole "Black guy dies first", movie, but the black guy will die pretty soon. In fact, I think he might just be the next one to go.

And in fact, the next guy to die is... the RUF guy.

>> No brains are required to predict the outcome of this movie.

Next, the female soldier calls out on our hero for using them as bait to see who the killers are, which resulted in the black guy dying. The hero is all, "Yes, at least we know who they are now" and is pretty cool about it. Later, he uses the doctor as bait to try and snipe another Predator.

>>Maybe it's time we started worrying about male role models instead. That guy may be good at surviving, but he's a complete bastard.

The cast then meets another black guy, who's been dispatched here "ten seasons ago" and is still surviving. Naturally, he knows a bit about what's going on here.

>> Oh, hello, Morpheus!

They all chill at his hideout, where a bunch of foreshadowing of the future points of the movie occurs. 1) The criminal is completely messed up, with his early comments about wanting to do drugs and quote, "raping bitches time", and then we see that he also had experience with brother-sister incest.

>>I... do stuff like that fulfill categories for "FBI's most wanted?" I mean, they're all bad crimes, yes, but aren't FBI's wanted criminals have done something far more worse, like murder a bunch of people or plot acts of terrorism, something like that? This is just like, the movie needed to show the audience that's he's a dangerous criminal, so they made him commit all sorts of sick things people can think of. At any rate, his chance of survival is thinning.

2) The Japanese Yakuza speaks for the first time, and shows great interest in a very old katana stowed in the hideout.

>>Which means he will do "Cool Asian stuff" with a katana. See why Hollywood needs to use Japanese people as Cool Asians? They'll do cool stuff with a katana!

3) Morpheus (the guy had a different name in the film, but I can't remember) mentions a Predator spaceship.

>> Gasp! Maybe the hero will try to use that as a means to escape!

4) The Russian guy shows people photos of his children.

>> **BIG RED SIGN** HE'S GOING TO DIE.

To make things short, Morpheus tries to kill all the cast, Predators invade hideout, running away ensues, Morpheus dies first.

>> All the black people die first, huh? Is there a hierarchy for ethnic minorities in this movie or something?

Then the Russian guy dies next.

>> Of course.

Later, when the remaining people seems to have escaped safely, a Predator turns up, and the criminal dies.

>> Huh. Thought he'd survive till the end to wreck havoc to the remaining cast. Oh, well, I guess somebody else will.

The cast runs away to a very grassy field with tall grass, another Predator shows up, Japanese Yakuza tells other to go away, and a samurai-esque fight using the katana ensues.

>> I KNEW IT! And that's why they had to run away to a very grassy field!

Katana fight takes up a lot of screen time.

>> Men! Kote! Do! Do! Kote! Do! (Taking up kendo will make you analyze moves.)

Yakuza kills Predator, Predator collapses and dies, Yakuza collapses from injury and also dies.

>> Stereotypical to a T. Also, ethnic cleansing, complete!

Now we have the doctor, the chick, and the hero. Doctor gets injured. Chick wants to help him, hero says he's dead weight now and wants to leave him. In the end, the hero goes to spaceship alone.

>> Douche~!

Chick and doctor gets captured by Predators, hero finds ship, blah blah blah. Fast forward to the doctor turning out to be a bad guy. He stabs the chick with a scapel that has paralyzing poison in it.

>> Huh, what?! Well, okay, so the guy wrecking havoc is the doctor!

So the doctor turns out to have been a serial killer back on Earth. He gives a little speech to the chick, and I quote, "Back there... I was the freak. But here? With all these monsters? I'm normal! I want to stay here."

>> WHAT.

Okay, first off, Being just about the only human in a planet full of ugly aliens DOESN'T make you normal. You'd still be considered a freak in that planet! Second of all, THE PREDATORS ARE OUT TO KILL YOU. WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO STAY HERE?! Also, what did stabbing the chick do to help your cause?! Now they'll know you're the bad guy and they'll kill you. Good job, idiot!

Then it turns out that the hero did not take the ship after all, which is fine and dandy, since the ship got blown up anyway, and he returns to 1) rescue the chick 2) use the doctor as a grenade-ridden bait to lure the Predator and 3) kill off the Predators while shirtless.

>> Aaaaargh, testosterone! Aaaaaaaargh! Stab, stab, pew, pew, pew!
Also, didn't he state earlier that injured people were dead weight? Why is he helping the chick, now, then? She's paralyzed, therefore DEAD WEIGHT. Oh, he's being all nice and caring to her now? So, you're only dead weight unless you're a hot, skilled chick? Forget about the doctor being a bad guy, the hero is a hypocritical jerk!

So, the Predators are all dead, for now. The surviving hero and the heroine of the movie finally reveal their names to each other, and the audience.
Hero: (soft, kind voice) I'm Royce.
Heroine: (smiles) I'm Isabelle.

>> Oh, okay, they tell us their names RIGHT AT THE END OF THE MOVIE. I'm soooooooo impressed!

Look at the tension between the two! It's like they'll start doing it right away if the environment was a little less hostile! Oh, and it's morning now, they're sleeping side by side, awwww, how romantic, IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR?

So ROYCE and ISABELLE sees more soldiers being parachuted down from the sky, which, we never find out the reason about.
Royce: Okay... now, let's find a way to get off this f***ing planet.
The two walk away, fade out, THE END.
Cue credits with completely unfitting rock and roll music.

>>That's it?! Way to be anticlimactic! The movie sucks! There's no plot, it's stereoptypical to a painful degree, and the characters are not likeable, relatable, or even redeemable. What was the purpose of this movie?!

Well, at least I hope my dad liked it.

However, as my dad and I walked out the theater, dad says,

"The movie was not as good as expected, wasn't it? It had no plot."

WHAT.

I turn around in disbelief. "You're the one who wanted to watch it so much! We watched this movie because you wanted to!"

"I know. I just thought it would be interesting. There's no plot it this movie at all."

"It's a movie about alien creatures killing people. You expected plot?!"

"Well, at least an explanation to why they were there and all. There was nothing. Maybe we should have watched 'The Socerer's Apprentice'."

"I've been telling you we should watch that instead! Where were you when I told you that?!"

"We can watch that next week!"

...

THANKS, DAD, I just watched a really bad movie for nothing.

At least we had sushi for dinner.

Culture Shock?

When I first came to the Czech Republic seven and a half years ago, it was late at night; we just went to our new house (that my dad, who went there a month earlier, already rented), dropped to bed, and fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up sleeping in strange bedsheets, empty white walls, and strange smells. Though my brain that was in charge of reason and logic said, "oh, you're in CZ now, don't you remember? You haven't toured the house properly, that's why it looks all strange", my brain in charge of emotions were all, "...where am I? This place is so strange and foreign. I miss the atmosphere back home." and as a result, I felt like crying.

This morning, after returning from my month-long Korea trip, I feel something akin to this. I really wonder why. This is hardly my first time going to Korea since living here. We've stayed in Korea longer in some previous trips, so can somebody please explain to me why my own house suddenly feels foreign and strange again?

Oh, yes, it was awesome returning to the cool temperature of 17 degrees Celcius summer evening after all that heat and humidity that drove me mad for an entire month. It was nice seeing my immediate family again. But as I wake up this morning, the feeling of wanting to cry had suddenly re-surfaced.

Everything is strange; the TV screen is suddenly too big. The toilet seat is too high. It's too quiet. There's no Korean milk or junk food or drinks in the fridge. It's practically cold here. And my trip already feels like a very long, distant dream.

My only explanation  is that the past month, I've been steeped in nostalgia and familiarity. My aunt's lived in her house for about seven years now, and I'm getting very used to visiting it. My grandmother's old apartment is just two bus stops away; even though she no longer lives there, the area is the most nostalgic place to me in the world. Also, I see my other relatives, who are equally familiar. I'm no stranger to the subway and bus and taxi, and although I've went to work at a new place and went to see some new places, it's still, all in all, Korea. I know how the places generally look like and how it all is. Damn, even the screechy cicadas are familar to me.

Korea is also hectic and trend-conscious; wherever you set place in urban areas, there's the hot new thing, and things are all very active and exciting. I didn't have friends this year to hang out with, and I've moaned and bitched about that, yes, but there's still new places to go, new things to do, and awesome, awesome food that makes you feel better and forget about it. Being alone just made me completely immersed to the atmosphere much more than when I was there with my immediate familiy.

Compared to Korea, CZ is really chill and laid-back. There's about ten times more foliage, less cars and smoke, more houses. Downtown Prague, while you don't get sick of it after being there ten thousand times (thank god), I've been there, done that. There's no BRAND NEW THING that will suddenly catch my interest. And European candy is awesome too, but Korea just wins by nostalgia factor and all.

I don't know. I just miss Korea. I mean, I've always missed it when I wasn't there, but I miss it more than ever for the first time in a long time. Oh well, need to find EXCITEMENT for the last month, I guess.

Korea: Day 30 & 31

Day 30:

Dinner with my aunt (dad's older sister) and cousins; this time, most of them were the ones who couldn't make it to the lunch prior. This also meant that Hyeonji, my cousin who's a year younger than I am, also came. She gets a special mention because she's the only girl cousin who's close to me in age, and therefore we've always been very close with each other.

She had always been pretty, and even now she was as pretty as ever. (unfortunately, I don't have pictures for proof, alas) And for some reason, she always seems to look like she had Gaussian Blur effect on Photoshop, only in real life. I think it's because she has such clear complexion and soft, dark eyes and hair. And yet she thinks she's not pretty enough and wants plastic surgery as soon as her college entrance exam is over. Cue me going "Don't change your faaaaaaaace you're pretty as it iiiiiiis" about five times.

I also saw my other two cousins who I haven't seen in a while, along with other familar faces. We ate at a meat restaurant, and the food was great, except... smoke. You know, when you cook meat on a grill, there's smoke? There was no ventilation system in the entire restuarant, which resulted in very teary eyes. The dinner went as the following:

*eat* *chat* *tear* *crouch and close eyes* , rinse and repeat.

After dinner, we all went to a nice cafe and had fancy drinks. Green tea latte was awesome. (Though I soon fell sick from drinking something cold straight after eating pork, and staggered home, and couldn't move).

It was my first time at Apgujeong, and gee, it really was like in the Korean chick-flick book I read. The rich people were parking in front of a cafe, and, oh, is that a Mercedes? And that's an Audi! And look at the number of plastic surgery places! Look at the beautiful people and fancy schmancy buildings! I'd like to come here sometime and look around properly... though that requires company for it to be fun. AHAHAHA.

On a side note, one of my older guy cousins gave me something aking to life counselling. It's uncanny how much he knows about my traits and tendencies though we don't meet that often.


Day 31:

Summary: packing, dinner, nostalgia, packing.

I packed from the morning till we had dinner.

My family had asked me to buy a bunch of stuff, and all that stuff was barely fitting in two suitcases. I take stuff out, rearrange things, put it back in, and go mad from the progress.

Intermission came with dinner; since it was my last day, my aunt, uncle, cousins and grandma ate out. Vips is now on my "like" list; their salad bar is quite decent, and they have the most delicious mangoes I've had in a while. Also, they have really tasty yogurt and green tea ice cream.

Since the place was near my grandma's old house, I told them I'd run around in the playground there for digestion, and went nostalgia-seeking with my little cousin. I'm glad I had company, since if I went alone my emotions would have gotten the better of me and I'd just have felt a bit gloomy. Instead, it was wistful and nostalgic.

The neighborhood itself was the same, just the way it was when my brother and I were little kids, running to grandma's apartment after getting out of the taxi, forgetting any fatigue we had.

Some of the places that I knew were still there, some have changed in time, obviously, though the most heartbreaking was the disappearance of the stationary store, which had been there the last time I went (5yrs ago?), that very place that existed since... I was born, probably. The arcade game in front, hoola-hoops hanging near the door, the toys, the school supplies, stickers, dolls, all... gone. Even my little cousin was saddened by that, and he's only lived in that neighborhood when he was practically a baby.

We also visited the playground. Though I knew it was small to begin with, it was suddenly smaller than I used to remember. The slide, see-saw, hanging bar, and swings, which was there since I was born, had gotten older and rustier in the years. We played there for a bit, though I couldn't recreate the feeling of playing there as a child anymore, though I've tried.


That was that; and after coming back home,


more packing. Till 10:30 PM. Geez.

And now I'm typing this blog, after I've pumped up my iPod with new songs, including ones which I considered dumb and repetitive. This is me sounding hypocritical, but hey, we sometimes crave for the dumb things in life. And though I really must go to bed, looking back on what's happened here... I keep wanting to stay awake against better judgment. The month had gone by so quickly, and I keep wanting to stay here for one more day, or two, three. Even though I haven't lived here most of my life, even if I may not have people to hang out with, it's still my home country, its where I understand everything (though the same applies to English-speaking countries, it's... not the same) and it's where my relatives are.

Sounding a tad sentimental at 2:30 AM, I wish I can come back next year. I've enjoyed my experience (asides from that little angst-time regarding my social life), had a great experience with the translating job, and I'm already missing Korea though I'm still on land.

Okay, really need to go to bed.

Korea: Day 26, 27, 28, and 29

**Warning, warning, long log!**

Day 26:

As I was sitting on the subway going to work, minding my own business, an angry looking man comes up to me and shoves a bunch of bible pamphlets. I pretended not to notice and did nothing, but he was staring- no, GLARING at me, and wouldn't budge one bit until I took that sheet of paper from his hands.

To mention an odd phenomenon that always occurs when I go to Korea; people always, and I mean, ALWAYS, ask me for directions. Once I had four people ask me for directions on a single day, even though I'm probably more clueless than they'd ever be since I didn't even live here for most of my life. I also get easily approached by people with pamphlets, surveys, or weird pseudo-religion beliefs. I really wonder why. Do I look helpful? Or perhaps easy to exploit? I'll never know.

ANYWAY back to the bible pamphlet: there were two sheets, one in Korean and one in English. The English one seemed innocuous enough, with descriptions about prayer meetings and the benevolence of Jesus Christ our lord and savior. Okay, fine. I read the Korean one, which was probably five times more wordy, and...  ah, there we are. It's one of those pamphlets again. The extremist, homophobic kind.

It also said that after investigating five generations of atheists and Christians, the atheist family had criminals, bums, and people who couldn't read, while the Christian family had resectable students, high-paying businessmen, and successful politicians. Therefore, be good Christians.

There is so much that I could say about this, but why don't we skip it and go on our merry way.

It was the last day of the Holt Motherland Camp, therefore there was nobody in the office but one worker. Obviously, workload was really low. In the middle of work, we both went to the other building across the street to see a bit of the Motherland Camp closing ceremony. The adoptees were all dressed in either hanbok or Taekwondo uniforms, and the ceremony took place in Korean and English (the one I translated). I felt quite important. I wanted to see Ms. A again, the one whom I translated for during her birth family reunion, but she had to leave early due to flight issues.


Day 27:

The last day of work!

Since the camp was all over, the office was busy again, and I was therefore busy again for the first time in a week or two. I realized that one's performace flies when one knows that it's the last day of work; I took calls like a pro when I used to be awkward and unsure all this time, took notes of appointments, organized shelves, and of course, tranlsated like mad. It was hectic.

At the end, the workers there gave me a bunch of stuff as thanks, and said many compliments that I was very, very flattered. Good to know that my translations are pretty superb. I could have melted to the ground from all the sweet words. The item haul (?) was pretty awesome stuff. I want to go to Jeju island again! With friends! I didn't know their souvenir foodstuff had gotten insanely awesome since the last time I went there!

Though I had to go back one last time the next day to fetch my certificate and recommendation letters. Ah, well. I'm done for now. Now I can really feel that the end of my Korea trip is near.


Day 28:

If I had to describe the day, it would be: public transit.

I headed out at 11:30AM to fetch proof that I worked for Holt the past month of July. I picked up my stuff from the main building, went to the building that I worked with, and had to wait a bit for my recommendation letter because the office was mad busy again. In the meantime, I gave them a packet of cookies I bought on the way as a present, picked up some calls, and even translated a letter, though I was officially done with work. "But you translate so well! I can't resist asking for one!" was what the worker said as she asked me for the task. Oh, well, it wasn't as if I was too busy that day.

After picking up the letter, I went to my grandmother (dad's mother)'s house one last time, and it took twenty-one subway stations from where I work, including transferring lines. I'm not good with finding my way in Korea, but after this, I'm pretty sure I'll have absolutely no problems with subway. At all.

I always feel rather pampered when I visit my grandmother and my uncle since they offer a lot of foodstuffs whenever I go there. Ice cream, watermelon, (Korean) pear. Once again, all sweet. But at least two out of three were fruits that contained a lot of fluid. With the heat and the amount of time I travelled, I needed it. FOUR AND A HALF HOURS OF RIDING AND WALKING AROUND.

While taking me back to my aunt's house by car, my uncle (dad's younger brother) gave me a little speech about social interactions. He is one of the (rare) male relatives with some pretty useful advice since he's a teacher and all. I'll... take that into mind. I just need to have some guts, like I always do.



Day 29:

Museum day.

Okay, so my cousin had to do his summer homework involving going to the museum, but still. It was my first time going to the Korea National Museum, so I was up for the trip.

The building was pretty large and impressive, complete with lake. A LAKE! within the building! It even had tadpoles and lotus flowers and all!
The interior was impressive as well, and it contained various treasures dating all the way to the stone ages till contemporary. We went to see the Goryeo bronze mirror exhibit, Goreyo celadon porcelain, Joseon white porcelain, and the prehistoric exhibits.

What else can I say about old, preserved stuff lying in museums? It was impressive. The porcelains, especially, are quite pretty, so were the mirrors; there were too many designs, large and small, to count.

The museum also contained other Asian and Central Asian exhibits. It'd take more than a day to go through it all.

Next we went to see the special exhibit of Greek and Roman sculptures, delivered from the British National Museum. "Gods, heroes, and mortals" were the theme of the exhibit. While walking around I couldn't help but notice that the ancient Greeks had... life forms being born from almost anything. Medusa's blood and sea water, Zeus's thigh, Zeus's head, Hephaestus' reproductive fluids and dirt...

"Instant life, just add anything!"

My little cousin, being at the silly age and not knowing much of Greek/Roman mythology, shrieked and giggled awkwardly at all the naked men and women. "Ancient Greek and Roman people are perverts!" was the immortal quote that he cried out.

And then we came back all exhausted and aching. And I really need to sleep now.

At a moment of depression and anger, I sprouted out a very sad facebook status. Well, I did feel like crying a bit at the moment - all the happy, active people meeting old friends and new, excited about everything and everyone, while I sit here friendless. And although I had a great time with my job and experiences here in Korea, the fact that my oldest friend in contact just stopped calling all of a sudden and wouldn't pick up the phone was quite a stinger, along with the fact that I had almost no friends this summer. We were friends for seven long years, after all, and he's always been a nice guy, so being left in the dark so suddenly hurt me more, I guess.

I should probably move on and forget about it, at this rate, just call him next year and be all, "Hey, where did you disappear off to last year, you cruel, cruel thing? What's up?"

Korea: Day 23 and 24

Day 23:

Short version: a bunch of relatives on my dad's side and I visit my grandfather's grave, and have lunch.

Long version:

Grandpa's grave, or well, resting place, was in Suwon. Which meant about an hour's worth of car ride from my grandmother's house, which was about an hour's worth of subway + bus from my aunt's house where I'm staying. I'm riding a lot of transportation this month.

It was my first time visiting my grandfather after he passed away. When I visited Korea two years ago, he was still alive, and I can still remember his voice. It was still kind of surreal.

I also saw a bunch of my cousins who I haven't seen in a while. Three of us were college students, one in med school, one working, and one working and doing a master's degree. And it seems like yesterday when I was a wee elementary school kid and the older cousins were talking about college and high school. There were only about half of us, but it was still pretty fun.

Going to the restaurant wasn't too fun, though. Traffic jam in a narrow road, seemingly rural-ish area (nothing but plants and small rivers and loads and loads of restaurants), and taking forty minutes to go to a place just within sight's reach because a car in the front got a flat tire. Wonderfully carsick.

It was pretty neat meeting and chatting with my cousins like that in a group. Now that everyone (in the restaurant) was in their twenties and thirties, we were all more open with each other in terms of coversation, and I seriously haven't talked and laughed like that in a big group since... the end of sophomore year. God, I'm such a sad, sad person.

It was also amusing how my relationship status seemed to be something akin to "classified information, limited personnel allowed"; when my uncle (dad's oldest brother) asked if there were any guys who had a crush on me (as if that would realistically happen in most situations), my aunt (dad's youngest sister) was skirting on the subject but not really saying it directly, which completely flew over my uncle's head. I think. Or perhaps it was because she saw me hesitate for a second at that question. But really, I don't know if I want to let my uncle know, since well, given his personality and mindset, there's a chance that he wouldn't take it too well, and who knows what he'll tell me then. The people who know it seems fine with it, though. AND WHY DO I HAVE TO FRET MYSELF OVER THIS? If a stranger reads this, they might think I'm dating a criminal on the run or something, instead of, well, a smart, sane, ordinary guy. I MEAN GOD WHY IS THIS COMPLICATED.



Day 24


It has finally come; the time of cicadas. Wherever I walk past trees, I start to hear that unmistakable high pitch, creepy-looking insects serenading each other so that they can hitch it off before they die. CICADAS! Run away from the trees! Lest you see them, and heaven forbid, fall onto your head or shoulder after failing to find any mates!

More translating and odd jobs ensued, as usual. Though I was given the task to translate the closing speech for the adoptee summer camp program, as well as pronounciation guides for some words after I was done. Wow, well, I'm flattered that they asked me to do such a task.

I'm glad that I'm seen as a competent worker during the short time I'm here, at least. That makes me know that 1) I'm actually doing things right, and 2) makes me feel accepted here at the very least, at the state where I am not too chummy enough (or unknown, even) with most UM Korean students to hang out with them, and my only friend available here suddenly stops all contact mid-July and disappeared from the face of the earth. Seriously, is there somewhere on my fortune that says, "has a seriously pathetic social life; attracts only very few friends in lifetime, somebody take pity on this person"?

On a completely different note, the urge to karaoke alone is rising. How sad is that?

Korea: Day 21 and bits and highlights of Day 22

Day 21

First of all, just to clarify, I was not given any sort of confidentiality documents that I needed to sign, nor was I told that I'm not allowed to reproduce my story elsewhere. However, appreciating the privacy of such an event, I shall go with 1) No names, 2) No personal info, and 3) No specific location names. That should cover it.

I left my aunt's house at a whopping 8:00 A.M. when it was raining like crazy. To sum it up using obsucre references:

"Thunder, rain, and lightning, Danger, water rising; Clamour, sirens wailing, It's such a bad sign."

I took my aunt's ginormous umbrella and arrived at my office at 9:30. There, I expected to go to the hotel via taxi like I was told, but nooooo, schedule's changed or something, and I need to take the subway again for about an hour and take a bus for god knows how long. The other translator and I laughed awkwardly in the elevator, dreading having to ride public transit again after all the time it took coming here. Both of us having come from the States (academics-wise), we sucked at finding our way and had to take a taxi after the subway ride.

Cue the other office and meeting the adoptees who we were translating for the day. Needless to say, both were very nervous and emotional about meeting birth parents, and although we were told to be more relaxed than they were, it was a rather difficult thing to do. We did make some small talk, but it was rather hard to in such a situation.

I expected to translate the adoptees meeting their birth parents amidst the emotional turbulence all around me, but that was taken care of by the regular workers, who are obviously the experts. We were to be assigned translating for them while they spend time with their birth families before going back to the hotel.

The adoptee (who I shall refer as "Ms. A" for convenience) and her birth family were to visit the birth family's house, have lunch, and perhaps shopping. Because I was the freer one of the two translators, I was assigned to go to their house, which was outside of Seoul.

I translated for Ms. A and her birth family starting from in the car. Gven the different cultural norms, we were told there were some things Koreans can say to each other without any hurtful intent, though it may be otherwise for the adoptees, so we had to act tactfully. It was my second time translating for work here, but first time translating for adoptees and birth families. Trying to figure out if this comment would sound okay when translated was the hardest thing to do, not to mention trying to use neutral vocabulary and tone while containing the truth. And, although minor, continuously speaking in a car that was going outside of Seoul, while being carsick, was a bit of work, too, though I didn't (and shouldn't) complain about that part.

After a brief house tour, we had lunch at a Japanese restaurant. Ms. A's aunt gave her niece a bunch of creams to make fair skin, though Ms. A was amused and said how she actually preferred getting some sun, as per the usual Western preference for skin tone. Her aunt still gave her the creams anyway, saying that it's better being tan when one has a clear complexion. Ms. A's aunt also used me as a reference, saying women should have nice, fair skin, "like this student here", and pointed to my arm. So... I guess I'm on the pale side? *shrug* Never really cared for whitening OR tanning, I really wouldn't know.

We then went shopping, where Ms. A bought some Korean foodstuffs to send to her adoptive family, and after some time, had to take her back to the hotel, in Seoul. I wondered how Ms. A and her birth family would handle all this, and although they were naturally slightly shook up at times, all in all it seemed to be a polite and peaceful affair, no huge conflicts or any content that I would have hesitated to translate. It was also something to have my translation work appreciated, especially by Ms. A, especially since she was familiar with such procedures and was shocked that we came to translate without any particular formal training or confidentiality documents.

It was during the car ride that I forgot my (aunt's) umbrella at the birth family's house. Oops. I apologized profusely, but they didn't mind too much, thankfully. So outside of Seoul we went again to fetch an umbrella. And then I took the subway and bus to go back home in the route I was familiar with, which was another trip to Seoul and back, because being horrifically direction-challenged, I wasn't going to risk myself of finding a new and potentially faster way home. I've had too many unfortunate results from being risky.

Starting from 8 A.M, outside of Seoul, I:

went to Seoul - went outside of Seoul - went to Seoul - went outside of Seoul - went to Seoul - went outside of Seoul and came home. MY GOD.

It was 9 P.M. when I came back, and I was hungry and exhausted to the point that I was having temporary memory failure with what I did that day. Was still an extraordinary experience.


Day 22

Highlights:

1) Watched "Inception" with my aunt and cousins. Great movie.

2) My little cousin wanted to order (baked) chicken from this chicken place because they offered Girls' Generation posters, as opposed to the usual place that my aunt orders chicken. We ended up ordering both and having lots of chicken. This is why idol singer worship is not healthy.

3) Went clothes shopping again with my aunt in a place very near the apartment, failed once more, and my aunt just said to go find clothes myself, since she couldn't seem to help and her tastes and mine clearly do not match. I'm sorry that I don't like flashy print shirts or girly tops that isn't washing machine-friendly!

Korea: Day 20

I am not one who wears pretty and fancy clothes. I like my stuff to be simple, comfortable, multi-purpose, and easy to wash. Should be very, very slightly feminine - a little curve here, or a pretty pattern there. Nothing more than an indicator that it's girls' clothing.

Seems like wanting clothes like that is not allowed for me in Korea.

As I'll be doing IMPORTANT TRANSLATION STUFFS tomorrow, I had today off as well. After a bit of lounging, my aunt and I went to the department store to look for clothes.
The first department store had... little to no casual wear. They were all fancy, dainty, hard-to-wash clothes. Frills and beads and lace and all that jazz. Ugh.

The little casual clothes they had were a bit disappointing according to my clothing taste - the recent trend in shirts seem to be big, bold prints, lots of cubics, or lots of glitter. BLING BLING! Nothing but shiny and outrageous shirts. How would they even survive in the wash? No matter how much you try to be careful, beads and cubics will one day fall off, and prints will wear and tear. Whatever happened to practicality?

Is the taste for simple and bland not accepted here?

Fortunately, we had more luck in the second store we went - yes, there still were a lot of shirts with loud, bold prints, cubic, and what have you. But there were more shirts to look at.

To make a long story short, we didn't end up buying anything. There were one or two shirts that seemed nice, but in the end, it all came down to how nice I looked in it. I don't.
I'M TOO FUCKING FAT.

If I like the color, there is no size. If I like the design, there is no size. When it does fit me, it still makes me look fat because the shirt was designed that way.

In the land where long, thin girls walk around the streets, there are not enough sizes for people even up to my size, and plain, simple fashion is probably laughed at, or something. Everything is bold, shiny, fancy, flashy, BLAM! Enjoy the slenderness and suppleness of youth! Beauty reigns all! And sucks to be those who aren't pretty and thin enough!

...okay, enough with the rant. I still didn't end up buying anything and nothing is changing that fact.

On another note, I am just about ready to slap my friend, if I see him. Or even hear from him. One does not simply stop commuication altogether and stay that way without any due notification, especially when we were calling and texting each other just fine prior. Unless his phone was stolen. But that doesn't really seem to be it. I'll be waiting...

Korea: Day 16, Day 18

Day 16

Lunch with my grandma, my uncle (my mother's brother) and his family. It was uncanny how he looked EXACTLY THE SAME after all these years, considering that it's been a while since I've seen him. In fact, I think he's just been locked with the same features for about a decade and a half now, without looking a bit older than how he used to look like before he got married and all. Considering his wife looked older in the years, my uncle must be a vampire.

My little cousin, his son, was a straight-up clone of his father (and grandfather) when he was a kid, based on the old photos I've seen. It was also bizarre seeing him trying to recall me in his little ten-year-old memory.

Uncle: Do you remember her?
Little Cousin: Not really... I've seen her only twice.
Me: You've only seen me twice, really?!
L.C.: Yeah, when I was eight, I think...
Me: Holy shit, I've seen you TONS when you were a baby.

To think that in his conscious memory, I'm some unknown older girl cousin who he's only met twice - when in my POV, he was a meek little thing who turned out pretty all right after the incubator days and numerous surgeries as a baby - rather shook my perspective of things, though it is nothing but natural.

We ate at a nice Korean restaurant (they had nice food), and... that's all I can say, really: I was pretty chummy with him when he used to live with grandma because I got to see him often and all, but after puberty struck and my uncle married and moved away, it's just been slightly awkward talking to him because of how rarely I got to see him, and now, with the course of events, it was still kind of awkward. Thankfully, he just brushed it off as my inherent quiet nature. Meanwhile, I at least got to talk more with my little cousin and played Gonggi with him.

On another note, finally seeing my grandma's new apartment made me slightly depressed; not only because she was now living in a tiny, run-down space in a pretty run-down neighborhood, but seeing her furniture - objects of my deepest nogstalgia - scattered, given away, and only having its minimal remains furnish her house in unfamiliar arrangements killed my soul a little. My plans to visit grandma's old neighborhood still remains as my personal goal for this Korea trip.



Day 16

I really wish I could give more information about what's going on in my job and all, but really, I've been doing the same things, and repeating myself is a really bad habit of mine which I'm trying to avoid. Well, if anything unusual happened, I heard a cicada cry. Once. And never again.

ANYWAY

I had lunch with my aunt (dad's younger sister), uncle (her husband), my grandmother, and two cousins (her son, and my uncle (dad's brother)'s son).

I am aware by now that I'm thoroughly confusing the heck out of few (if any) of the readers here; in Korean the many aunts and uncles have separate names referring to their relation with you, but the English-speaking cultures don't really care about all that, hence the catch-all phrase "aunt" and "uncle". Most inconvenient. I could have been nice and referred them as "Aunt ****" "Uncle ****" and so forth, but BEING ASIAN, referring elders by name is a completely foreign and unthinkable concept, so I shall continue to confuse people. Hopefully the parenthesis helps.

I don't know if it was because of my severe lack of friend interaction this summer, or because my cousins and I are close in age and we've grown and (almost) all passed puberty to stop being weird with each other, but it was really comfortable chatting with them (more comfortable than the average comfort level) and it was actually pretty fun, even though I was the only girl there.

After uncovering everyone's relationship status, there was a moment of odd hilarity with all my relatives trying to properly locate Robert's area of origin. No, it's not Côte d'Ivoire, it's not Costa Rica, it's PUERTO RICO. Way to trust my dad on relaying names properly to other people. Some geography and history lessons were needed for clarification. On another note, I finally found delicious mango in their mango cranberry salad. It tasted almost like the ones in the Philippines and if my tastebuds were human, they would have wept with joy.

After lunch, I decided to go to Coex Mall. Alone. It's a rather sad and pathetic thing, yes, but I mainly wanted to get presents for my friends and see if I can hang out at the gaming arcade. As it turned out, the gaming arcade was CLOSED.
NOOOOOO! I wanted to play games! I wanted to sing alone in the karaoke booth! NOOOO! Why did it close??!! ... mayhaps it moved elsewhere, but shopping for my friends have already drained me of the energy to search that far. Also, it was nearing dinnertime and I needed to go home.

Did I mention that it was a RIDICULOUSLY HOT DAY today? Starting from yesterday, it's going to be the hottest days of summer till early August, according to the Korean calendar. (And that is when people especially eat dog stew. Gasp in fear, non-Koreans!) Sure enough, it was hot. As in, you sit there doing nothing, but you sweat profusely. And you can almost feel AIR. Public transit was a nightmare.

Too many people were riding the subway since it was 6PM. My arm was squished between two men's buttocks (ew), I was carrying a heavy load of stuff, my upper body was squished against an older woman, my legs were balancing unsteadily in what little space it could occupy, and everyone was sweating. To make matters worse, one girl lost balance and completely fell over, causing a domino effect of about two dozen people collapsing in the train, me included. Also, I stood my entire bus trip, which is about thirty to forty minutes long. The heat wants to make me cry. All we need now is for the cicada season to come, and I shall finally scream.

Random note: I finally got to taste "McCol", as the romanization says on this infamous drink can. It really does taste like coke mixed with barley tea. Blegh. However, I was too hot and tired to care about the taste when I got it as a freebie, and promptly chugged it all down.