Monthly Archives: February 2013

Info finally

OK. So I’m in Wonju.

It’s not the beach, which is what I asked for.

It’s actually nowhere near any water of any sort,

which I find unnerving.

But I guess the point of this whole “move to Korea” thing was to get out of my comfort zone.


I’m out.


Such a precocious child…

I know I’ve blogged before about how special my little nephew is,

but I’ve just got to share again.

This kid is six years old, but he just has this, like, uncanny perception of people and interactions and relationships. 

The other day, he and I were skyping with one of my guy friends. And we were all chatting and laughing and having a good time, when suddenly my nephew whispers in my ear “I’m going to type ‘i love you’ [in the message box below] and maybe he will say it and you two will get married.”

He’s SIX!!

I threw my head back and laughed and let him do it; shoot, nothing to lose with that proposal. My guy friend wanted to know why I was laughing–obviously I didn’t tell him of our marriage plot, only to check his messages (I wanted to see how he’d react).

Being the cool guy he is, he only praised my little nephew’s typing skills and the whole thing blew over, but here’s the thing that made it stick out to me:

This guy is not the first guy friend I’ve let my little nephew meet–shoot, he goes where I go when I have him, so he’s met my friends before.

*BUT* this guy friend IS the only one my little nephew has tried to hook me up with (in his 6-year-old way) and it’s funny because this particular friend is the one I would be open to going there with (if the timing were different, blahze blah).

And maybe it was just coincidence,

but I don’t think it was. My little nephew laughs a lot, loves to help, and generally gives the impression that he is a light and carefree child. But still waters run deep with him. I have a feeling that the streams of his happy child exterior run into a deep and endless ocean.

the last week

So next Saturday, Feb. 16, is the official day that everything changes. 8 a.m. I get on that plane and I quite literally leave it all behind. Everything that has happened in my life to that point will all be on another continent.

The crazy thing about this week is that there is nothing I can do to either speed it up or slow it down. It will march on, at its own pace, and it will get here in its own time, but it WILL get here. It will not NOT happen if I suddenly wake up and decide I’m not ready for Saturday.

Suddenly I want to contact everyone I know who’s done this before and ask them what they did that last week. Did they go out? Did they stay in? Part of me just wants to stay inside and avoid germs and cars and everything that I think might have the potential to derail my steady march toward progress. That march toward Saturday.

flashes of insight

two months ago, when i was doing my practicum and working and finishing my last class and studying for orals, i would joke to anyone who would listen that i couldn’t wait to get a break. i told them i just couldn’t see myself ever getting tired of not working.

cut till now. what time is it? what day is it? i have been up the entire night because, as is what often happens these days, i just couldn’t sleep. i laid myself down around 1:30 or 2…..and I got back up at 3:35. F*ck it. I just couldn’t sleep.

Even now, I wonder if after I write this I will be able to peaceably lay my head. I’m tired. I spend a lot of my days tired.

But it’s not an “I’m satisfied with what I did today” tired. It’s just a tired that’s a natural response when you lay yourself down but you can’t fall asleep.

When you’re busy working (and in my case studying) you’re tired because you were out in the world being a person of value for a set amount of hours that day. And I’m not trying to say I’m not a person of value now, 

but this month that I’ve spent “between jobs” has certainly increased my understanding about how incredibly depressing it is not to have a job. And the ways it can throw off simple things, 

like your sleep pattern.

When I was married for 5 minutes two years ago, one of the things my then-husband would say to me is that he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t sleep. He was unemployed, and, like, long-term unemployed, and he told me that he had “insomnia.” And I was like “wtf you sleep until two, that is not a problem sleeping it’s a lack of discipline and you need to fix it because the fact that you have the luxury to sleep till two is really rubbing in the fact that I’m supporting you to me.”

Because I was working full time and studying (and dealing with a “husband”! Ack!), I was EXHAUSTED all the time. Sleeping till two was in my mind a luxury like eating ice cream and watching Will Ferrell movies all day.

But you know,

that’s cool for, like, a day. After that, I am starting to believe that if you are an adult with  your mental faculties in working order for the most part and even a modicum of self respect,

you just really start to feel like you suck.

And sleep is funny, because you can be dead dog tired, but if you are not at peace, you will not sleep. And nothing puts you ill-at-ease like feeling like a bum.

And what’s really just the most funny or most odd thing about it all is how strange it is how you can suddenly gain a flash of insight into a situation that you had no idea that you didn’t understand, even years later. Life is funny like that. Kind of reminds you that it’s all continuing, that nothing’s ever really finished.


Real Clean

Real Clean

compared to this, my struggle might as well be with Nilla Wafers. Still, I can’t help but wonder whether my desire to un-quit drinking has parallels with being “hunts point clean”

there’s this, like, vulnerability to it

I was just now laying in my bed,

just now.

I was just now laying in my bed, my little twin bed from all of those years ago, the one that’s in my mom’s “computer room” now that I sleep in instead of the full-sized bed in my brother’s room because it’s comforting, or something,

and I was praying.

I was praying because I’m no longer fully committed to quitting drinking, which has led to a lot of quarreling within myself and just a huge temptation to drink.

And I was praying because I realized that whatever decision I make, I have to be on one accord within myself about it.

I quit drinking because I was afraid it had/would become a problem for me,

and so I was praying tonight to ask myself/God that question.

If I start to drink again,

will it be a problem?

Will I know my limit? Will I stop there? Will I sip slowly, so that I don’t find myself suddenly blackout wasted?

Will I embarrass myself? Will I be able to forgive myself if I do,

or will I let it turn into a shame spiral, where I lay all of my vulnerabilities out and pick apart myself?

And there was something about that word, vulnerabilities, that really resonated within me,

something that suddenly made everything fall into place.

There is this, like, vulnerability to this thing that I’m doing, this moving overseas. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been my dream for a long time, but now that I’m here I find myself feeling a little unsure in my step.

I guess the crazy thing about starting over, about moving away, about dropping everything about your former identity and presenting/relying solely on who you are in this or that moment,

is that what if they don’t like you?

What if you suck?

What if I move to Korea and I don’t make friends with the other Foreign teachers and I don’t learn the language fast and everyone in Korea thinks I’m fat and rude and I get lost all the time and I’m lonely and I cry and I have no one, no one to blame but myself?

Well I guess in that case,

in that worst case,

I end up sitting up in my mom’s house at 1 a.m. using her lap top to update my blog.


I am just so angry

Is this what leaving feels like?

I’m sitting here, on my mother’s couch, and I’m trying to watch My Lovely Sam-Soon, a K-Drama that I honestly find so endearing. I feel like Sam-Soon, but I think it’s just because she’s kind of meant to be a character that every woman feels she can identify with in that space where she secretly feels like she’s getting it all wrong.

But can laugh at it.

I’m watching this show because I’m moving to Korea in 2 weeks, and people keep telling me to watch K-Dramas (or movies or whatever) and it’ll help me pick up the language. And that is the coolest thing ever. I picked up my passport from the Korean Embassy today; flipping through the pages, I’m finally starting to look cool to myself. I’m finally starting to have a passport book I’ll be proud to own in the future. It’s got stamps from Canada (I begged), Guatemala, Honduras and Belize–and now, it’s got a Korean visa.

Bad ass.

I’m finally starting to become who I’ve always wanted to be.

But inside, not-so-secretly, there’s just this anger brewing. I talked to my mom about it because she told me I was “borderline rude” to her today–I told her I’m sorry, I’ve just had this anger growing inside of me for weeks now. It started with a mild irritation with everything and everyone, and I just chalked it up to feeling removed, like how can you really engage with people and things in one place when your mind and heart and body will be on another continent in a couple weeks?

But it’s grown to full-on, full-out anger, the type of anger where I’m sitting here watching K-Drama and squinting because my head hurts because I am just. so. angry.

I want to drink so bad.

I want to drink soooooooooooo bad.

I just keep trying to remind myself that drinking while angry is a terrible idea,

and not to be rude because the people who I am irritated, impatient, frustrated and downright angry with right now will be my lifelines in two weeks when I’m lost and scared and lonely and crying because I’m on another continent and it’s cold and I don’t speak or read the language.

(although it will be fabulous)