Pulled In Many Directions

Not-so-daily rambings about my life and my thoughts

Thursday, February 10, 2005

I Can't Sleep!

This can't be good.

Not so sure why I'm awake, really. Am I excited? Am I nervous? Am I scared?

Yes.

I'm not sure when I'll have my computer hooked up to the Internet. So I might not post for awhile after this.

When I get hooked up, you'll know all about it.

Bye bye...

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

I Don't Get It

I'm mad. Mad at the stupid Seoul Immigration Office who has now told me under no circumstances can I catch a break cause my wallet was stolen. It looks like Korea will rob me twice. I have to pay 100,000 won for the pleasure of leaving the country. That means then I will have about 80,000 won left to my name until I can get something straightened out in Hong Kong.

So my friend suggests I call my dad and ask him to use Western Union. I'm a bit apprehensive, because anything "new-fangled" like that is bound to get my dad in a knot. But what else can I do, really? So I call him, tell him what I'd like for him to do and he gets all flustered, as I'm trying to tell him the address full of Chinese words. (Which I understand, by the way. Tsim Sha Tsui would be spelled in an entirely different way phonetically.) I try to tell him how the service works, and he starts ranting, ending with "I don't even know how this service works.' Well if he would listen to me, I could try to help him. That's one of my biggest pet peeves. People who don't listen to me. And it doesn't make it any better when they look stupid ranting over how they don't know something, ignoring the fact I'm trying to tell them.

So I'm trying to explain to him how the service works, that it's safe, and at the height of his frustration, he says he doesn't trust this service because in Hong Kong "they are all a bunch of gooks." Well, that's a lovely color on him. I explain to him in a way that might make him understand that Hong Kong is civilized, it had been a British colony, anything to make him relate to the country, and then he says "It's a Communist country." Well, OK, it's under Chinese rule now, but I think even in Beijing I could get money wired to me, as they have joined the technological era, something I'm not sure my own father wants to be a part of.

It makes me sad to hear him talk that way. It just strikes me as some kind of Great Divide between us. I think he's wildly insecure about himself, where he doesn't like anyone or anything different. It reminds me of the time he got frustrated with having to fill out some kind of college financial aid form, and again as I tried to explain it to him he got all bothered again saying in this mock-posh accent that "Maybe you have to be an Emerson person to understand." I'm afraid of becoming the people he hated in high school, maybe, or just the people he has to work for. It's not like I think I am better than him for being better educated, or more well-traveled, but when he says these horribly racist things, it drives me nuts, and it makes me wonder how did I not wind up thinking like he does?

Anyways, we'll have to see what happens with the money.

Monday, February 07, 2005

Notes From The Battlefield:


Psycho kitty...qu'est-ce que c'est?*

I just got this email from Stephen, the new owner of Dragon:

Well I got her to let me pet her and she stopped hissing. Then it was time for me to change apartments this afternoon, and she became understandably disconcerted. She went and hid under the bed again, which I had to turn on end to get her into the carrying case. I managed to corner her and scoop her in with a thickly gloved hand, but although she squirmed and hissed a lot she didn't actually try to bite me - if she had become violent I probably wouldn't have been able to get her in. So now she's hiding under the bed of my new place, and before I left I wanted to make sure she was actually there, and not having a flashlight I stuck my head under and flicked my cigarette lighter. That didn't make her feel any more calm, to say the least. Anyhow, I'm sure she'll soon settle down soon enough.



Poor thing. Hope she will settle down soon!


*This picture was snapped mid-yawn, I promise!

Jukebox Roulette

I haven't done this in awhile.* I think you can tell a lot about a person by what they like to listen to. (NB: As I am "posting live" as the songs play, that statement is conditional on the premise my musical skeletons stay in the closet.)

1. Natalie Merchant -- Jealousy
2. The White Stripes -- The Hardest Button To Button
3. The Rolling Stones -- Gimme Shelter
4. The Rolling Stones -- Heartbreaker
5. R.E.M. -- Orange Crush
6. No Doubt -- I'm Just A Girl
7. Creedence Clearwater Revival -- Proud Mary
8. ABC -- When Smokey Sings (OK, so there may be one...)
9. Culture Club -- Karma Chameleon (Two then...Nahhh. I love this stuff. It's what I grew up on.)
10. John (Cougar) Mellencamp -- Crumblin' Down

OK. Now, off to scavenge through my house and pack up some more. Which currently means I go through my suitcases and just move my already packed stuff into another suitcase.




* Yes, yes. Am procrastinating. Am aware of it. Thanks for the concern. All is under control, yes.

Sunday, February 06, 2005

It's Been A Long Long Long Day

All I can say is Bleah. And stress is not my thing.

To the bank employee I snapped at over the phone: I must seem like one fucked up crazy bitch to you, but after I tell you I need to get some money to go to Seoul, but my wallet's been stolen and my passbook's not working, to hear you say "I understand your situation. Where is your card?" tells me that you really don't understand my problem. When you do this to me three different times, I think I am entitled to a little eruption. No hard feelings, I hope, but please remember to listen to what a person is saying to you next time.

To the guy in the ATM vestibule smelling strongly of cigarettes: Thank you for being kind to the messed up freaky foreigner and giving me 5000 won to get to Seoul. I sincerely hope I didn't scare you.

To the police officers who drove me all around East Seoul in their car: Thanks for helping me out, but I really think the sirens were a bit much. Really. Oh and Officer Sung, you're damn hot.

So, I have my supposedly needed police report I can show Immigration, which will supposedly let me through with it. In any case, I'm soooooo tired right now. And it's only 4 p.m.

Tomorrow, I go to the bank (if they'll let me in) and speak to someone in person to get my card replaced and maybe then I'll just say fuck it and close my account then and there. And I'll go shopping for a new wallet. And get some Starbucks. I want Starbucks now.

It's Always Something!

I'd like to thank some anonymous Korean, who sensed I was lacking in blogging material between now and the time I leave for Hong Kong.

This fucker stole my wallet from my coat pocket while I was in a PC room. Most of the time here, if your wallet is stolen, you can be sure it will be found easily, although a little lighter in cash.

This person took the whole damn thing, complete with credit cards, but much more importantly, my alien registration card, the thing that tells immigration, "yuh huh, I have every right to be here."

Fuck.

So, tomorrow, I get to tell you all about my trip to the police station. And how I have been told that as long as I can provide the receipt from the police station saying I declare my wallet stolen by some fuckwit, Immigration will be happy to allow me to board my plane that will take me to Hong Kong. (A short message to Immigration officers possibly reading this: I don't want you to pave my lane with rose petals, just please please please let me through. Please.)

I can't leave without a little drama, now can I?

Saturday, February 05, 2005

In Honor...

Of my cat.



For all the times you greeted me at the door with a meow meow meow when I came home
For all the times you jumped on my lap and settled in purring
For all the times you attacked my feet in the morning
For all the times you burrowed yourself under my comforter
For all the times you chose to eat Doritos over chicken or tuna
For all the times I had to make sure you wouldn't hang up the phone on me with your paw
For all the times you had to be in the bathroom with me when I took a shower
For all the times you licked the taps in the bathroom and kitchen ryin to coax water out
For all the times you performed a somersault as part of one of your attack moves
For all the times you answered to "Kitty"
For all the times you were there for me

I will really miss you.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Should we Talk About the Weather? Should We Talk About the Government?

About a half bag of Hershey's Chocolate Cookie Kisses and 14 R.E.M. songs later, I am feeling better. Well, I felt better yesterday. (Funny with the window to the world/animal in a zoo aspect to blogging, I feel I have to make an entry about how I'm no longer feeling crappy.)

If you like the animal in the zoo analogy, you are welcome to feed me. (It was bad before and is just getting worse by the day!)

Anyways, R.E.M. My second most favorite band ever. Well, I take that back. U2 had one misstep with Pop. I haven't really followed R.E.M. since Bill Berry left the band. Strangely enough, all noraebangs here (that's a singing room) that I have been to have only one R.E.M. song in their catalogue, called "Imitation of Life," which I never heard of, and which is too bad cause I'd love to torture my friends with "Shiny Happy People" or "Stand."

So, while cmesmyl's recipe for kicking depression is to watch and laugh at Sawyer Brown videos, complete with bad white guy dancing, my recipe for a rough patch is to listen to songs from Document and Green, sing them at the top of my lungs and do some bad white girl dancing to them.

And chocolate doesn't hurt either.

Just felt I had to drop in with a "No, really, I am OK" note.

As you were...

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

The Last Few Days Before Goodbye

This is shaping up to be a crap day. I am trying to get a taxi to take me to the post office so I can send off the last of the packages. No one understands me. I keep getting hung up on. I don't have anyone to help me out here. I asked a friend of mine to help me out, and she referred me to her friend with a car. But I feel stupid asking for their help cause we rarely talk and it just feels awkward for me to ask for something of theirs when we've never really hung out and did anything together as friends. You know, like it's OK to ask a stranger for a quarter to call someone, but you're not going to ask them for $20. I just can't ask them for help, even though I desperately need it. I'd feel like I was using them, and I can't bring myself to do that.

And so I've been calling this taxi service and I guess they know where I am and where I want to go and I guess they have my phone number. But who knows.

I'm also feeling upset cause for some reason or another, I invited 6 people or so for like a going-away thing and so far I have heard "I'm going to be in Thailand" "I have another party to go to," and "I have made other plans to go away for the weekend." The first one is excusable, of course, and hey plans are plans I suppose, but it's almost as if they don't understand what leaving Korea means, like I will be back. One even said "Hey, if you're going to be in Kangnam," like I should consider relocating the party. It looks as though I'll be saying goodbye to just one person that night.

And on Friday, I have to give up my cat.

I feel so alone right now. Is it anything I did? Is it the nature of what I am doing, the constant revolving door of the expat life? Maybe I don't open myself up as much as I should have. I hate this cause again, I feel I am leaving with nothing. I hate nothing.

When I go back home, I want to find a place and just stay there for a long time, and develop lasting relationships. People who enjoy my company, people whose company I enjoy, and people who I feel I'm not burdening down with anything.