Union Square on a Tuesday Night

Spur of the moment dance party featuring the half-naked chick.

Crowd attracted to the video camera.

Everybody strutting their stuff.

Perky girls dancing Thriller in memory of Michael Jackson.

Check out these guys expressions to the half-naked chick!

Happy Birthday!

I’m pretty sure this is the last birthday I’ll look forward to. Then there’ll be too many candles, more wrinkles, and a bottle of vodka. Then y’know, all those candles and all that alcohol will probably result in my being burned alive, sad little wretch.

Hello, 21!

Goodbye 20.

Didn’t sound as epic as I thought. In fact, all you older blokes out there are probably whining, “What’s this brat complainin’ about?” Just like I roll my eyes at all those idiots crying about their turning 20 or 18 or whatever stupidly young age.

Well, dear reader, suck it and move on.

 

A friend taking a picture of the casino in Asbury Park with her Holga camera.

Republic of Suicides

Welcome to Korea, the Republic of Suicides. In case you missed it, the former Korean president killed himself early Saturday morning. I know this because my mother attempted a retelling of the epic story: man moves to countryside from Seoul, feels battered and shamed by the press and government, distracts bodyguard, and ultimately jumps off cliff. My mind imagined his fumbling body ricocheting against the rocks down to the bottom, where his bloody corpse lay to be collected.

Baby, baby! Save me!

Fuuuuuck, I say. I’ve become a monotonous two-day old, wretched block of tofu.  I live in a cubicle, each day trapping me into the next. My resume dribbles an inky narrative of my patchy attempts to secure a future. I find more joy out of reading, How to Find a Job, than actually finding a job. All my regrets are bundled deeply in the pit of my stomach, making a grumbly noise that I often confuse as hunger. I thought as a kid that being a hopeless romantic was a dignified career choice. Alas, no.

I’ve been attending language classes — Korean and Russian — this summer. “You’re gifted!” one man declared at the bookstore while I checked out my textbooks.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” My fifteen-year old self would probably wet her panties at such a statement, considering that she got off on any sort of compliment–justified or not. But hein! I’ve sadly matured.

Mum appeared soon after that moment, brushing me towards the exit. She nodded towards the store clerk. She looked as if she was to say, “Not gifted, crazy.” She murmured some Korean, and then the inevitable came: “You better appreciate all the money I’m spending on you. It’s so unnecessary.” Okay, well, it didn’t go quite like that. Mum has a heavy Korean accent and her English is more Engrish, lacking the appropriate pronunciation and better grammar. I touched it up for comprehension purposes.

Oh, money, money, money … Is so funny. I sat in Andrei’s car this morning, tapping my fingers against the car door, and turned to him to say, “You know, I feel like I’m living in the Great Depression. Except it’s just me and my mom, and everyone else is at a some fancy party in their Marc Jacob dresses. My jeans are ripped, inappropriately, and there’s a hole in my shoe from that time we went hiking.” Because, well, when it comes down to it, I’ve had this heavy heart for a while, and though love is in the air, the flowers are blooming, we’re all so bloody broke that none of it seems to matter!

Example:

On the subject of my apartment, one must acquire an appreciation. The ceiling forms these avant-garde white stalactites after rainfall. Very charming. I like to pick off the wall to form a white paint-chip mosaic. No bumping and grinding on the second floor or some ceiling tiles will fall off downstairs. The mice in the bathroom lullaby you to sleep. I should make friends with the cockroaches in our kitchen cabinet, maybe even knit a sweater for those lil’ bugs. How adorable they are when they cascade through my living room!

Hello, beginning to the end.

Sometimes …

Sometimes:

• I am afraid to eat raisins blindly out of the box for fear that I’ll pop a dead bug in my mouth.
• I think the vampire Lestat is outside my window, waiting.
• I wish that I was Swedish–blonde and beautiful.
• I believe that I have super powers.
• I think that the world is going to end next week, tragically, and I still wouldn’t have achieved anything.
• I hate humanity for all its pitfalls.
• I love humanity despite its pitfalls.
• I am more than I seem, hopefully.
• I take walks in the dead of the night to test the danger.
• I try to understand Korean, but it usually comes out gibberish.
• I hope that everything will be much better than just alright.
• I yearn.
• I walk to the grocery store and wander the aisles because I’m lonely.
• I hope that my material wants will eventually overcome my repugnance for “work”.
• I abstain from going to bed too early since I’m afraid of letting the days slip away.