The world is a tragedy to those who feel, but a comedy to those who think. -Horace Walpole
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Public Transportation
angrily in clumps,
tender shoots from the same seed.
God help us
find
a
seat
alone.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Elixir of Love
Evidently, True LOVE can be purchased for a mere pittance (if you consider 4,500 won and your soul, a pittance). WARNING: may cause some facial distortion and sexual nightmares.
ps. why I am the only one with wiley nostrils? I've got to stop having friends with such straight, lovely, un-flaring noses.
Another historical moment brought to you by the letters S and B.
does it get any cuter? Seriously.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Sometimes, you're just tired
Nine below something Celsius
Christmas in three days
First, I think about you, strange country that is not strange
(but will be in three months)
And my gut is too twisted from
(too many vegetables at dinner)
thousands of unknowns pushing themselves up against me
(or just something I ate)
I see the clock says 7:16
And I remember that it’s actually 7:08
(I set it eight minutes fast because doing math wakes me up faster than alarms)
I know it’s too early, but nine below
a good book
and maybe a vision or two when I close my eyes
It’s enough.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
A Crush Is Born
1. Smart Boy requests that I send him music.
2. Smart Boy then listens to every song, taking note of structure, possible connections between songs and why and how each song may have captured my ear/heart.
and as if that weren't enough to lay me out...
3. Smart Boy sends me a poem that includes the words, "my head exploded" to describe his listening experience. The poem has a RUBRIC (!!!!!) on how to unlock the layered meaning.
Excuse me, Smart Boy, but I'm pretty sure I'm the one with the exploding head.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
New News Now!
Friday, December 05, 2008
BAM! Crush UP! Crush Down!
B.A.M. Boy Attention Moment (noun) A (pathetic) replacement for real dating and relationships meant to make you feel the soaring leap of hope necessary to prove to yourself that you are not slightly socially autistic.
usage
friend: Um, were you crying during church today? I would have handed you some tissue to clean...well, you know...but I was kind of on a sacrament date and I couldn't really stop in the middle of the rub-down portion... I wanted him to ask me to Sunday School. You understand, right?
NB: Oh, yeah, no problem. Well, yeah, it was a rough day, but it's ok because tonight at the Break The Fast, ______________ (insert boy name) totally gave me a BAM! Like eye contact and everything. I think he wants to marry me.
Friend: excellent.
Crush Up (verb) moving your crush to level 2 (level 1 = facebook stalking) by making real life contact in some written or verbal form.
Usage: I totally crushed up on ________________ after blogstalking for many months and I think he really liked my comment on his facebook status. I think he wants to marry me.
Crush Down (verb) Taking your crush back down to level 1 shortly after a failed attempt at crushing up.
usage: I guess I will have to crush down as it appears ______________ was unimpressed with my comments on linkup, facebook, friendster and myspace. Do you think the unsolicited chat on gmail was too much?
Credit where credit is due...crush up (or is it crush down? I can't remember!) is a trademark of Bottari
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Love = ceramic hearts+ handwritten notes
Thank you, R. I taught you the word "homesick" and you taught me about compassion.
If you are ever looking for something to serve as a miracle in your life...I present these little people...old souls who are the culmination of their families spiritual gifts and talents who know more about the things that really matter than all of our collective adult "wisdom". I am humbled to be part of their lives. God really knows what He's doing.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Things I remembered that I forgot
2. I forgot that when I was 14, I thought 31 year olds were old and freaky and not cool, but I recently remembered as I was at a movie with a smattering of tweens who were all pretending they didn't know who we were, even though we were the ones with their movie tickets and drivers licenses.
3. I forgot that I am an ENFP in meyers briggs land but when I finally remembered, it also jogged my memory of all my flaws. Which are many. (yeah, like I could forget that...especially since I remember that I'm also a virgo which reminds me that I'm doubly screwed...self-absorbed and highly aware of it. BLURG!)
4. I forgot (but my older brothers and their GI Joes certainly didn't) that I don't make very good bombing, helicopter and gun explosion sounds. Had I remembered this very important bit of information sooner, I may have avoided this very awkward and weird "sound effect" phase in which I am currently stuck. Has this ever happened to anyone else???? Like, instead of saying a word, I make a noise. Example. Someone says, "Hey, you're a totally and utterly self-absorbed, fruity ENFP, aren't you? I can tell by the way you whore for attention at any given moment!" to which I reply with a perfectly pitched, "DING!" and follow it up with a lower, more sophisticated "Merp." It's completely out of my control and the worst part is how I can't even seem to approximate a machine gun when necessary after all these years.
5. I also forgot, but now choose to remember that I can choose my life. That's more serious and lest I bore you with the depths of my mental pinings, just imagine that for years you thought everything you did was on some sort of string being manipulated by someone else and then you realize that there is a string, but you've got it in your hands. There's no puppet master, only a loving God who hands you a blank pad of paper before the show and says, "make it up. I'll make it work for your good if you love me." That's a really amazing reminder during times of transition.
Monday, November 10, 2008
I got interviewed
Linescratchers
No pressure.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Hunger of Memory
And now, I am totally and utterly homesick. Like the kind of homesick where I just sit and cry and hate everything about Korea. I wish I was in America right now so that I could be feeling something about this election result. ANYTHING except the sort of wishy washy ambivalence that I feel. I hate that everyone else gets to be passionately disappointed or passionately excited and I can only wonder what the news means for the falling won and my monthly money transfer. I know...I chose this. Self-imposed on many levels. You know I just really hate to miss a party.
And I miss my family. I miss my passionately political dad and his opinions that are so often at odds with my own.
So tonight, I will eat an apple, send a few emails and curl up in my bed and look forward to a rested tomorrow when I can hug a little korean kid who is speaking beautiful broken english at me. God bless America. Everyone.
Sunday, November 02, 2008
I lied.
And to reward you for looking at my self-absorbed halloween pictures, I will tell you a secret.
I'm coming home! I've decided not to renew my contract for next year. I'll be back in Americaville as of March/April 2009. I'm excited for the next chapter...but it's nights like this Friday that make it just a little bit harder to think about leaving. You better be getting ready for me, America. I hope you have lots and lots of air guitars.
Friday, October 24, 2008
I'm normal and regular.
Friday, October 10, 2008
words are cheap and I like a good bargain...
I can't think of a less attractive word to call the person that you've decided should be the father of your children or at least the payer of your bills.
actually, I think I should just start a comprehensive list of unapproved words here for the sake of posterity...
NOTE: while not inherently evil, each of these words use alone or together in certain contextual situations or combinations (ie. pork panties) can ignite a physical reaction that may or may not include chills, projectile vomit, explosive swearing and whimpering.
moist
ointment
boil
panty
pork
pustule
hock
cubicle (thanks alie, now it always makes me think of pubicle, and who likes the word pubicle?)
bladder
misanthropic
delve
menses
lark
mercantile (can't really watch Little House On The Prairie anymore, stupid Olsens.)
blossoming (no reference to joey lawrence and mayim bailik vehicle of the early 90's)
There's more, but I won't really remember until after I punch you. Accidently.
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Ninny Beth Sees Dead People or What DO you do in the Korean Countryside?
You EAT....and eat....and eat. With ne'rey a diet coke in sight, I was confronted with all manner of Weight Watchers unapproved deliciousness. Granted it was all organically grown in ye olde garden, but still....
Appa trims the grave mound in defference to his Mother and Father. Doggedly pulling weeds and bringing the resting place of his parents (well off the beaten path) back to a respectable appearance.
Monday, September 22, 2008
The Carter Family - Wildwood Flower
I know that on my LDS mission to West Virginia I was supposed to listen only to MoTab and classical music...but come on! When a pervy/sweet old man named grandpa G feeds you beans and cornbread and asks you to sing old country songs so he can teach you how to play the dulcimer in his tiny trailer home up the holler, you just do it. This song was one of the best gifts I brought home from my mission. I love me some bluegrass because of that old man. Bless your heart, Grandpa (and that nasty skirt chasing dog Penny, too).
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Pastoral. Andong Korea. Thanksgiving.
countryside.
Leaves melting, yellowed and browned,
like butter sliding from tree bones
full moon gloating over
a completed harvest discarded clothes, flapping on a line
forgotten until tomorrow and destined to spend a cold night
dry, ready, unworn.
and this blue sky, thick and unrelenting in its clarity- quietly fading
without a moment of doubt.
I cannot say what we understand is communication.
sweat mingling with raspy breaths and unnamed
confusion?
A Korean model car
Hyundai, Daewoo, Samsung
trickles by and all heads turn to look at me with eyes blushing
hungry, tired
my nostrils burn with the scent of ripened rice.
It seems like home, but not quite
something.
something about these dogs like hyenas.
Everything goes dead here in silence.
The day shoots into night.
The perfectly flattened shapes of frogs
make deflated swastikas on rocks.
Children by the pond, like specters, their mouths open and close
gulp and spit English that doesn't quite reach me.
When the blood harvest moon clicks on at 6:30,
its illuminated sphere a solemn nightlight, I am aware
this is tomorrow-
One more early leaf flutters to the wrinkled grass
One more ancient cricket sings pansori to the beat of a sickly pulsing earth.
My eye catches at the hovering flight of an angry dragonfly
and I am afraid.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Reason number #34
Most times that I wear my retainer to bed, I wake up to discover that I have ripped it from my mouth and flung it across the room during the night.
It's a funny thing that makes me wonder what other acts of violence I am capable in a fit of unconscious discomfort.
It makes me want to get married just so I can really find out.
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Miles Davis. Eggplant. Seoul Korea.
lights dimmed over my kitchenette.
The smell of garlic simmering on my hotplate.
Miles Davis whispering in my ear.
Clarity.
I am cutting deep purple eggplant, yellowy green zuchini and red peppers into new shapes.
no one has called.
no one will call.
I wipe my hands on my apron, nibble the zuchini like a rabbit and start in on some onions.
stop.
listen to that horn line.
listen to that.
shake my head because I can.
Seoul Korea has a heartbeat tonight and it pulses in the light of my tiny apartment.
Supreme peaceful.
I am a whisper like miles.
air blowing through metal and tubes and subways and concrete.
can you feel me?
can you feel me there?
shake your head because you can.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
The Last Starfighter's Life Goes On
And then there was Michael Romanov. Tortured artist. Scraggly bearded secret lover of betrothed but unhappy Paige played by none other than The Last Starfighter, Lance Guest. Here he is a bit younger, but the picture captures his hair...his glorious tangly tangly hair. Hi.
I think I can nail my current love of curly brown haired men down to my first encounter with a V. C. Andrews series (Heaven? I don't remember, I sadly devoured them all at a debaucherously young age) in which the protagonist was a thin, tall, long tapered fingered tortured musician. A melancholy pianist who was wealthy and tortured by his art. Tortured, with curly brown hair and artistic fingers and probably even a little bit on the pale side, like he needed more vitamin D. Did I mention the tortured artist part? And of course, only the love of a secretely adopted, bespecled, smart, damaged beauty could save him.
But I digress...so Lance Guest as Michael Romanov stole my heart away along with Paige's and I couldn't bear to miss an episode. What if this was the one? The one where Becca kisses Jesse, AIDS be damned! What if this is the one where Paige and Michael run off in their dangerously tortured artistic overalls clasping artistic hands?