Happy New Years!

In ten minutes it will be 2006 for my friends on the East Coast. For me it’s been 2006 for 14 hours. What do I have to say about the new year. As with last year, music makes everything better. Riding up to Nowon with Danya, I asked her, “Do you have any new year’s resolutions?” She said, “I hadn’t thought about it. What about you?” “No.” Looking back on the year are they’re things I would change? Yes, and no. Can I change them? No. So, instead I move on. Things happen, things don’t. So what do I want out of this next year? I don’t know. I know I will travel, so it’s not a matter of want. It’ll happen because I will make it happen. Traveling is easy, you just make the decision and go. Some decisions are easy. No, there are things I want, but I can’t have. And maybe that’s my resolution to get better at letting go of wants, not of dreams, but of wants. There are things I need and things I want. Maybe I should focus on what I need this year. What do I need? I need to focus on being more patience, discipline, and having better self-control. Oh, it’s now midnight on the East Coast, Happy New Years. What will this new years bring? This I know, the rest will be as it will be:

Finish my contract with school.
Travel to Japan.
Travel to Thailand or China.
I will move to either Chicago, New York, or Seattle.
I will knit one scarf.
I will make more mix cds to terrorize my friends.
I will write as much as I can.
I will spend more money that I should on books and music.
I will get my cat back.
I will be me. I’m sorry but that isn’t going to change.
I will continue to be that crazy girl you not so secretly shake your head at when she does something silly, stupid, crazy, or just something only I would do.
I will continue to be an impulsive dreamer.

Yes, that’s maybe my resolution, to keep dreaming. Not probably a very good one, nor a very wise one, but I’ve never been wise. So here’s to a new year and new dreams.
Sorry if this isn’t the best post. I didn’t get much sleep last night, it being New Years and all. I hope everyone had a safe and kick ass New Years. Have a great new year and big dreams.

Christmas Cookies

Christmas Cookies
Originally uploaded by punk_rock_baby.

Some traditions are hard to break. Some you never want broken. Christmas is a time of traditions. For me Christmas is a time of trying to find the perfect present to say, “Hey thanks. You’re great.” Another tradition is baking. I love baking. Every Christmas that I can remember I always helped or made Christmas cookies and candies. Last year was the one exception. Baking isn’t the only tradition I have at this time of year.

It’s that time of year again. It’s “the let’s make a scarf” traditional time of the year. Every winter since I went back to college I end up knitting a scarf. Before I left to go back to college the women in the deli showed me how to knit. They showed me how to cast on, knit, purl, and cast off. They did not show me how to fuck it up. I do that on my own. My scarves tend to be distorted things which amuse my friends to no end. I think my first attempt could be aptly described as wavy. And it was ugly, really ugly. For some reason it ended up being deep purple and red strips. I don’t know what I was thinking. So that was scarf one. Last year’s scarf was a nice deep red with flecks of gold. ActuallyI wish I had that one. It was nice, warm and fuzzy. I didn’t think I would be making a scarf this year, but today I picked up some grey yarn and knitting needles. The thing is when you only knit once a year and your only lessons were five years ago things get a little fuzzy. So we’ll see how this one turns out and how many times I have to unravel it. At the same time, I wonder why every year I knit one? One day I’d like to move beyond a simple scarf. Knitting is something I haven’t perfected but one day I would like to master. Why learn how to knit? I don’t know maybe it goes back to Grandma Mabel.

Grandma Mabel was my father’s mother. She would make us clothes, dolls, quilts and afghans. Some of these things were the most tacky things imaginable which is saying a lot since she was making them in the early eighties. Now they are treasured heirlooms, one quilt contains pieces of materials from Aunt Molly’s doll dresses, Josh’s teddy bear, and my quilt. Grandma Mabel made me a quilt with a floral pattern done in shades of pink. If anyone knows me, you know I don’t wear pink. I’m usually go around in black or dark neutral shades, so pink is definitely not my color. The thing is this quilt was made for me when I was a little girl. But, even after I graduated college, I was still using this pink quilt. The quilt is easily at least twenty years old and I love it. You see Grandma Mabel died when I was six. Her funeral was the first funeral I remember and it is one I will never forget. Burned into my memory is an image of Grandpa, Molly and Dad standing together, leaning on each other. I miss her. So what does this have to do with me knitting ugly scarves?

One day I fully intend to make ugly scarves for my children and grandchildren. One day I’d like to make quilts for my kids and grandkids to say, “I love you.” So, scarf by scarf I move closer to my goals. Some traditions shouldn’t be broken and terrorizing your children with tacky hand made gifts is one of them. So here’s to moving towards the future, bit by bit, memory by memory.

Christmas Card

Christmas Card
Originally uploaded by punk_rock_baby.

Merry Christmas!
Happy New Year!
: )

Home

Last night when I couldn't get my brain to shut down, my thoughts turned towards home. Where is home? Do you know where home is? You may think it's a stupid or simple question. But these days it's not a simple as it used to be, not with divorce, people constantly moving and constantly changing relationships. So where is your home?

For our family, it tends not to be in a geographical location, but where we sleep, where we dream. I had a conversation with Jeremy shortly after I got here about home and family. Home for us isn't the old house, long sold off. Home is where we are. We aren't people who like strings, or complications, nor are we an overly emotional family(in general). Lee once said, "We weren't really a family anymore once." That hurt, but at the same time it had a grain of truth to it, I couldn't deny. Alot of things have happened in our family over the last few years. Some people don't really know eacho other, because they have changed or time has passed and they just weren't around for that change. Are we still a family? Yes. We are. We still love each other and would be there for each other. There is still a special bond there, forged by time and memories. At the same time, my family isn't just people related to me. My family is also my friends.

My friends mean alot to me. I don't know what I would do with out them. It may sound trite but I hope it doesn't sound insincere, because it's not. My friends, especially this last year, have been great. They've been there for me when I'm hurt and crying, when I need a friend to drive four hours to see Neil Gaiman, to hang out with me and having great conversations with, or when I need advice I won't listent to, or to tell me when I'm being stupid like only a friend can do, to forgive, to listen, to laugh with, to understand and care for this crazy girl. Thank you. It's one's choices that define a person, and thank you all for having the lack of judgement once in your lifetime in choosing to be my friend. ; )

What does this have to do with home? Well, home isn't where I dream anymore. It's not here in Korea.

Merry Christmas!
Happy New Years!
Happy Holidays!
Love,
Kate

Force Feed the Fat Boy.

Force Feed the Fat Boy is actually my second favorite application title. My favorite is Francis Ford Coppalla presents Dinner. The object of this activity is to reinforce new vocabulary like ice cream, cake, cookies, and chocolate by throwing pieces of paper with these words written on them into a bag with a picture of a fat boy. In the back of the book there is a picture of a fat boy you are supposed to Xerox and paste to the bag. I choose not to do this activity. I wonder why? Why am I writing about this? To highlight a cultural difference between Korea and America.
The difference is Vitamin D. Vitamin D is needed to grow strong bones, to absorb calcium. Koreans don’t get a lot of vitamin D, which is evident in the fact that almost all of the old women have osteoporosis(that and the Korean War wasn‘t the best time for eating a balanced diet). Another sign is that most Koreans are built on a smaller scale. When I arrived in Korea I was easily the largest women in the staff women. In America I was a small/medium, now I’m a large/extra large. Oh, look I got vitamin D growing up. Although at the same time, some of the younger generations are growing larger than previous generations due to a change in Korean eating habits. But it isn’t just diet. Korean women are not supposed to have muscles. My kids pointed at mine, and laughed. I asked what was so funny. They asked if I was a boy. Women don’t have muscles. Korea is also the country of plastic beauties. Lots of plastic surgery. One of my Korean co-teacher’s was late one day because her mother didn’t wake her up before she left to get her lips done(her son is a plastic surgeon). Why so much plastic surgery? It ties into Korea’s competitive streak(or obsession) which I’ll write about later.
Not the most Christmassy of posts. Wait. I should have a good one for Christmas. Something really sappy and trite. : )

Chinese box

Why are all of my favorite Chinese directors selling out? First, Zhang Yi-mou with Hero and now Chen Kaige with The Promise. They are both now making kitschy martial arts films for money. Nothing is more depressing than to see an amazing director, who used to tackle complex human relationships in real contexts, sell out to make flat, showy movies.

Hero was a beautiful movie visually. The message was interesting, placing more focus on the role or power of the bureaucracy than on the ruler. The power of the masses. I enjoyed the shifting stories and the beauty of the scenes. So while it was not totally devoid of meaning, it is no where near his earlier works. Most people didn’t know of Zhang Yi-mou until Hero, even though he had done some amazing films. Only people who were interested in Chinese culture or film had heard of him. His works include, The Story of Qu Jui, Raise the Red Lantern, Juo Do, Not One Less, To Live, and Shanghai Triad. Some of these stories, such as The Story of Qu Jui, while they received praise international they did not make him China’s favorite son. Not until Hero did the Chinese government support his work, in fact some of his earlier works had been banned in China. When discussing Hero I would tell people to watch Chen Kaige’s The Emperor and the Assassin(Both are based of the same story).

Chen Kaige was much better known in the West than Zhang Yi-mou until Hero was released. Chen Kaige directed Farewell My Concubine. Most people have heard of Farewell My Concubine, if they haven’t seen it. The Emperor and the Assassin, was realized fairly widely in the United States as was Together. Chen Kaige’s style is much more operatic in style. Chen has more dramatic flare to his stories with grand scenes, verses Zhang Yi-mou’s more understated style. (Interesting aside, Zhang Yi-mou began his career as Chen’s cinematographer on Yellow Earth.)

Neither one of these directors were afraid of facing reality, of documenting human frailties, showing life’s ironic side, of showing life and people in a striped down glorious, horrible form. Now they’re directing flashy action sequences set in mythical (not historical) settings. They used to film poetry in motion, life in all its absurdities, its wonderful moments, its dark moments. They showed life, what it meant To Live(excuse my cheeseyness, the Chinese love play on words). But I guess they have to live too, they have to eat. It’s a hard time for dreamers.

*Side note, if you haven’t seen Wong Kar Wai’s In the Mood for Love, you should. I would skip 2046 though, try Chungking Express instead. Also, sorry for any typos or mistakes in grammar it’s three a.m. here. I usually write posts late at night, which is why one is titled, ”Sorry You’re Suck with Me,” rather than “Sorry You’re Stuck with Me."

Random bit II

main drag if drunk
Originally uploaded by punk_rock_baby.

It could be any street. After a while they all melt into one. This street needs no name, you all know it. Tonight, I walk down it alone drifting slightly closer, edging away, flowing like jetsam. My steps fall haphazardly, bereft of any intent, any goal, only the physical force of each step is real. Lights, street lights, neon lights, head lights, the glare attacks leaving the darkness only one refuge, my eyes. Darkness is banned, along with mistakes today. Taboo.

Old bit. It was this or a recipe for Nan.

Mint

Mint. It’s one of those annoying flavors one can’t do with out sometimes. In and off itself, I’ve never been crazy about mint. Mint comes in a wide variety of forms and graduations of flavors from soft mint wafers, to Girl Scout Cookies, to hard spearmint candies, to truffles. All of which have had their moments in my life, and now their taste is tied to my memories of people, events, and times of the year.

Christmas is a mint time of year. Christmas is a time for candy canes in hot chocolate. Every Christmas since I can remember (except for last year) I used to bake cookies upon cookies and make simple sweet candies for my family. I remember one year in high school, I couldn’t afford Christmas present for my friends so I made them packages of cookies and candies. I was currently working a part-time job, in a play, and editing a yearbook so that meant the only time I had to bake was when I got home at 10 pm. One of the things I made them was white chocolate peppermint bark. It was my way of showing that I cared and I was thankful for their friendship. I miss being able to bake for people. Baking for me is like making a wish, I wish for you to be happy.

That’s what Christmas was all about, the intent, the wishing for others happiness, and being able to share their joy. I remember growing up we didn’t have a lot of money. One thing I do remember is that as kids we were allowed to spend one dollar on each member of the family to buy a present. There wasn’t a lot you could do with a dollar, even back then, but it didn’t matter. You usually knew what you were going to get, but I still remember being excited about these simple presents wrapped in red tissue paper. Dad usually got a box of either Butterfinger bites or Baby Ruth bites. Mom would get chocolate covered mint wafers, the ones with the soft white filling(not the Andies candies one because they were too expensive). Josh always got the hugest candy cane you could buy for a dollar. He loved those things. I think some of us got tired of getting them so Josh would usually end up with more than one. Now, what wouldn’t I give for a candy cane and maybe some eggnog.

Some times it’s the simplest things that trigger old memories, good memories, like the simple sight of seeing Andies candies in Wal-mart half a world and half a life time way. I now have a box of Andies candies sitting in my fridge waiting for Christmas Eve, to be eaten with a cup of hot chocolate sans candy cane. It’s not the candy cane I miss, it’s the people who I used to sit and have that cup of chocolate and candy cane with. One of these days though we’ll be together again. The house will be filled with people. I’ll have made every kind of cookie or candy I had time to make. Mom will have made her hot apple cider. Grandma’s quilt will be under the Christmas tree with a cat sitting on it behind the presents. I’ll be home.

To the Ladies

Today I received a very sweet e-mail from a women, whom I‘m not acquainted with. She wrote me to say how she enjoyed my blog. I’d like to thank her for reading and for taking the time to e-mail me. My mother has been saying she’s been telling people to read this blog, but I didn’t realize people were actually doing so. At this time I’d like to say,

"Yes, my mother raised me better. I’m sorry. Please excuse my language, my crudeness, my occasional vulgarity, my atrocious grammar(yes, I’m teaching English), my bluntness, and my whiny posts. And thank you for reading."

That goes to my friends too. : )

I have coffee

Ah, right now the smell of fresh brewed coffee is slowly taking over my apartment. Lovely. I miss coffee. Now, thanks to Jenevieve I now have a coffee maker. It's great.

Random bits:
K: Write a sentence using about.
S: What about tacos?
K: What about tacos?
S: What about tacos? I'm a taco.
Actually, she didn't even know what a taco was until today.

Ah, not bad(the coffee). At least it's not from a powder.

K: What's the matter?
S: I have no spleen.
K: What?

It turns out she was saying "I have a nose bleed."

That's all. I'm going to go back to listening to BBC radio. Bye!

Ugly Chair

I have an ugly chair. It's one of those cheap imitation pappasan chairs made of metal and covered with stripes of lavender, mauve, two shades of bright blue, orange, turquoise, and an off shade of lime green. It's fabulous, because I no longer have to sit on the floor to read. I was lucky to get it, since it was on sale but only with a card. The nice lady at the register filled out the application for me so I could get the sale price. It was very sweet of her.

Speaking of sweet Koreans, Euni is a sweet Korean. Euni is the real name of a women who I thought was named Abby. Abby is actually her daughter and the reason why her patrons are getting free coffee for a while. Euni runs the used bookstore where I had my slice of pumpkin pie. Euni also keeps me in reading material. If feeding me pie and coffee wasn't enough she has now decided to take another step. This was our conversation while she was getting me coffee.

Euni: So, my friend M? Just left umm thirty minutes ago.
K: Oh . . .
Euni: He's very smart.
K: I've meet smart men before.
Euni: He's very sweet.
K: I've meet sweet men before.
Euni: Still . . .

My bookseller has decide to play matchmaker. I find this amusing since right now I'm not looking to date. Friends, all well and good. Guy friends can be trick sometimes, which is a shame because I always like having guy friends. I grew up a bit of a tom boy with four brothers. Which also may be the reason why some times I'm totally oblivious when it comes to guys liking me. If you think I'm joking ask my friends, they'll tell you some stories. I'm better at being friends with guys than being in a relationship with them. Oh, wait I've only really had one relationship. Thirteen year olds have more dating experience than I do. Eh. The thing is I have meet quiet a few smart and sweet men, most of whom in the end I'm not interested in. I don't know why. Maybe because I know I need some one who is more than smart or sweet. I'm looking for someone exceptional. Who wants someone who is scared easily? Who isn't up for some challenges? I need someone who is like my ugly chair, perfect. Until then, well, who knows? Life is definitely interesting though. And ironic. ; )

Give me a reason

Funny story.

I don't have any lately. So, what can I write?
Okay. Ah, I've got something.

Things to never do:

1) Never call up a girl and tell her you love her. I don't care how drunk you are it's annoying, especially when you do it seconds before midnight on New Year's Eve.

2) Never start wearing make up. Seriously, I once had guy think I liked him because I started wearing make-up. Truth be told I was just really bored and procrastinating. And, I usually meet guys when I look like shit. I meet Harvard when I was grocery shopping in an ugly sweater with no make-up.

3) Never leave around incriminating videos. My grandfather and dad have way to many of them. I really wish I had my favorite embarrassing Christmas video. It won't be Christmas with out it. Nothing says Christmas like slow motion footage of yourself as a six year old dressed in her holiday best slugging a boy in the middle of Christmas pageant and then blithly singing on. Oh, Christmas memories.

4) Never do post likes this. It's mean and it's boring.

My apologies. Hopefully, I will have some funny stories this weekend.

You're goddam suck with me so deal

Kate and Jesse
Originally uploaded by ivoryw0lf.

Okay, if I tell you that "I love you", you're goddam suck with me. Sorry. I try not to love too many people because in all honesty it hurts like hell. It means trying to be there for them when you can, while feeling useless. Wanting to kill idiots who muck up your loved ones lives. It means seeing them hurt and not being able to do anything about it, besides being there. Wishing them the best, and wishing those wishes would hurry their ass up. Seeing people who are quite extraordinary get fucked. Their bad day becomes your bad day. But the nice thing is their good days become your good days. And alot of the time, they make your day. In the end it's worth it. Actually, it's more than worth it. In the end it's the only thing that really matters. At the same time, I've been burned enought to make getting close to love, well a scary thought sometimes. Because once you love someone there really is no going back. I know because I've had several people test the bounds of my love(and my forgiveness over the years). The thing is the closer you let someone get the more they can hurt you. At the same time, the closer they are the hard it is to hate or not forgive them, it's like trying to cut of a limb. The people I love are the people who made me who I am. They're the people who are part of me. So, if I love you, I'm sorry but your stuck with me. But, please don't try to test the whole forgiveness thing, it's been a long year.
Love

Bridge of No Return

Bridge of No Return
Originally uploaded by punk_rock_baby.

The DMZ, forget Everland or Lotte World. We have the World’s most pristine nature reserve, it’s called the DMZ. Yes, there maybe mine fields and anti-tank walls, but it has not been touched by man in fifty years. Well, here was that little tree incident. Where two U.S. soldiers, one named Captain Bonifas, were brutally murdered by axes while supervising a tree trimming. But Paul Bunyan was a success and only required 50 martial arts experts from the ROK Army, a naval carrier, helicopters, bombers, and everything and soldier we had on the peninsula to trim trees. Besides the Bridge of No Return we also have the most dangerous one hole golf course in thw world (featured in Sports Illustrated, as it used to be surrounded by mines), the Monastery(once a bar, now a souvenir stand), and there are lovely accommodation in either Freedom Village or Propaganda Village(Irony knows no end). Although, only women can marry into Freedom Village, no men need apply(you don’t pay taxes but you do need to be in by midnight). As for staying at Propaganda Village, they have lovely multi-storied modern building with no floors or windows. But we are always expanding. As in when Harmony Hall was built for reuniting families(it has never been used for it’s original purpose, it is a cold empty building), North Korean added a taller addition to their building. Or when a new South Korean 100 meter flag pole was donated to Freedom Village, North Korea built a 160 meter flag pole with the world’s largest flag. North Korea’s free propaganda radio was shut down in 2004. Please don’t try to use your cell phones, the North Korean believe in monopoly of information and have installed radio jammers all along the border. Who needs free speech freedom of information when you have dynastic Communism(oh irony, you little bitch working over time are we)? Remember do not make an gestures or faces as the North Korean will use them for propaganda. We’re quite happy they’ve stopped using the American flag to polish their boots. After lunch, (also a monopoly) it’s time for the show, which was a video on . . . well a lot of things. The Kiwi beside stated, “That is the cheesiest thing I’ve ever seen.” I replied,” I’ve seen worse, but I’m American.” Please visit our small museum on North Korea’s tunnels. Unfortunately, you can’t visit North Korea’s Peace Museum (although we were told the ax that killed Capt. Bonifas is housed there). Last but not least, you can don a hard hat, and walk down a sharp tunnel to see one of the hidden tunnels found in 1971. At the bottom of the tunnel you will find a pair of plastic cranes standing beside a spring and in front of a blue painted background. Try not to hit your head, as you walk down a tunnel which 30,000 North Korean soldiers could march through in an hour. After laboring back up to the surface, please stop in our souvenir stand where we have premium DMZ rice for sale. This concludes your trip to the DMZ, please no pictures.

God, I wish this wasn’t true. I write this tongue in cheek, but unfortunately all of it is true which is the saddest thing of all. Fifty years later one country’s civil war has been transformed almost into a theme park, or zoo(complete with a Monkey House). So many people have died. So many families have been separated. For what? Ideology. Communist verses Democracy(lets be honest military, U.S. supported dictatorship). Ideology is a dangerous thing, it changed a homogenous country into one brutally fighting against one another. It’s so surreal, and ultimately so stupid. That’s what I got out of this a feeling of stupidity and loss. 160 meter flag poles and buildings with no floors. It makes you want to cry.

You have to hand it to the ROK and U.S. soldiers who serve at Panmunjon. Our guides were great, living up to their motto, In Front of Them All. The ROK soldiers who serve two years are specially, well hard core. ROK soldiers have to stare down the “enemy” all day long. Except the enemy is someone the same age, the same ethnic back ground, the same language, but born on the other side of the line, the DMZ. Isn’t he doing his duty too? He may even be related to you. If you aren’t outside staring down a lone man, then you’re inside serving as cardboard stand up while tourists spend their vacation stepping over into Communist North Korea for pictures before they head off for lunch. War, it’s a good business. Fifty years later, still a good investment. Makes you wonder how long until you get Iraq tours. Visit Saddam’s palace, or live like a Hussien for a day. At the same time, I have to say, it really is something everyone who goes to Korea should do. It makes you think. Reflection is always a good thing. What’s the silver lining? That we never forget. One should never forget. I’ll never forget.