Giving Thanks: Holidays, Friends and Family

It's Christmas Eve and three dog's and a cat are stirring and I am wired in the coziness of my dad and stepmom's house.  It is hard to believe that six months have gone by living here in my parents abode, warm, secure and able to sleep in.  I will be boarding the first of three planes to get me to my final destination in Korea early Saturday morning.  The wait is over, the time is near.  It is hard to believe but I couldn't be more excited.  Tomorrow is Christmas.  It will be my last full day in the United States of America for at least a year, unless I find a way to squeak a vacation stateside sometime late next year.  The journey begins the minute I board that first plane.  My life is about to change in ways I cannot grasp until I am living it.

The gratitude I feel towards my father and stepmom for taking me in and letting me invade their home and disrupt the organized comfort in which they live is insurmountable.  The money given to me is huge, in the sense that nothing can be accomplished without it unfortunately.  This is my least favorite thing about life.  It takes money to get anything done.  There is money needed to simply take the most basic first step in any process to achieve a goal and without their help none of this would be happening for me.  It irks me to even try to put it into a dollar figure, because the cash is only a fraction of the help that has been provided to me.

I have been allowed for six months, to sleep in as late as I want.  I was able to stay up late watching the boob tube (something that I enjoy but can and do live without when on my own), and wake at noon to a half full coffee pot ready to reheat at my slow rising leisure.  I maybe had a small list of chores involving yard work of some sort on a day or three here and there (which I was paid cash for), but I was pretty much free to surf the internet, stuff my face and get a little exercise if I wanted.  I was hardly pressed to keep up the room that was mine to stay in.  It got a bit cluttered with piles of clothes and stuff, but I never got too much grief about it.  The bed I'd sleep in is large and soft with more pillows that any self respecting single male needs, but I enjoyed it none the less.

I have been treated to home cooked dinners nearly every night seven days a week for six months.  If it wasn't cooked from scratch which it often was, it was still prepared and presented.  My dad is a lucky fellow for that and I a spoilt over-extended guest reaping the benefit of his wife's talent in the kitchen.  I drank vita-water and quality beers at will.  The "at will" part with the beers probably garnered me the most consistent disapproving vocalizations from my dad, granted he paid for them.  What's a guy supposed to do faced with such a bevy of beverage glory?  Not to mention the snacks!  Chips and artichoke dip, macadamia nuts and stuffed olives calling me during the late night movie watching hours.  I am lucky to have a treadmill to use as well and some weights or a fat-ass by now I would have become for sure.  Americans are assumed to be fat by other countries and I want no part in being the fat "ass" in their assumption further perpetuating that sad truth overseas.  Thankfully my metabolism hasn't shut down.

I have yet to come up with a way to properly thank them both as we part ways late tomorrow evening.  I will be driven to the airport and sent on my way.  I have tried to verbally convey it, spouting many genuine thank you's at the appropriate times and expressing my appreciation whenever possible, but I feel that they don't realize how much everything that they have done for me is appreciated.  Maybe if they could see how happy I am to have the opportunity to do what I am about to do, they will realize that I owe much of my progress as a human to their financial aid and mental support... and I couldn't have done it without them.

 One day I will figure out a way to give back.  I guarantee any family member would be happy with  artwork that I made versus something bought in a store, but I haven't made much lately and I need to feel settled to create.  I am hoping I can settle in enough to get back to making art for the love of it and maybe the content would even be fit for sharing with my gramma.  She is very supportive of me making art, but finds anything recent dark and morbid, not the kind of stuff to hang in her house.  I love her reaction when I show her my stuff.  She is like, "oh gawd... I don't know about this... maybe for a cover of a rock album or something"...  I hope to find a groove soon in Korea... I need some inspiration.  Something to inspire some positive imagery fit for gramma's walls.

I am stoked to have some really great friends too.  I feel loved and supported by these peeps who lack the unconditional family obligation of their time invested in me, yet they openly support me in this trip and everything I try to do.  I feel blessed to have peers wishing me the best on this journey.  I realize I have some lifers in my corner however brief or extended our journey, we are lucky to enjoy it together.  I don't feel all alone in this thing and am blessed to have such a great support system to reach out to when I need a morale boost.  Thanks to my immediate and extended family members along for the ride... going brah!

Officially Packed, But Am I Ready To Go?

The deed is done.  My bags are stuffed to the gills.  I have managed to pack everything I need to bring and quite a bit of what I want to bring.  Some things have been discarded out of necessity due to weight restrictions and space limitations in my bags.  These things consist of a dozen books and a few clothing items.  As it stands, my carry-on bag contains far more books than I should bring, but I can't seem to do without them.  Should I feel the need to lug around a carry-on bag pushing 50 pounds?  I deem it necessary.  I will be checking two bags that are just under the 50 pound limit and lugging my slightly smaller, yet just as heavy carry-on with my skateboard deck duct-taped to the bottom of the bag.  The trucks and wheels are packed in the carry-on.  I was going to tape the skateboard to the bottom of the bag fully assembled so that I could wheel it around the three major airports I will be spending time in, but I don't want to draw any unwanted attention.  It is probably wiser not rolling my bag through the x-ray machine at customs anyhow.

So the packing part is over.  It was a semi-stressful process, but I have packed and unpacked, selectively reduced and sorted my life's belongings more over the last 10 years than most humans.  I have lost count of how many times I have moved, but on average I would say once every six months making it close to twenty times.  It does get easier when you have condensed your life for transport like a professional vagabond.  However, there is always that ever present nostalgia that makes packing time consuming and somewhat emotional.  You realize that you only have so much room for the keepsakes and mementos that tend to take up much needed room with their often times, odd shapes.  You sort through these items and put some aside, retiring them after so many moves together and say goodbye in a makeshift memorial.  It can be quite sad.  You realize that you are human and things grow on you, shaping you in ways you never realized until it comes time to part with them... time to move on.

A new beginning should be just that.  It is probably unhealthy to lug too much old baggage to a new locale.  Shedding some of this physical baggage does actually help shed bits of the emotional baggage that is carted around wherever one goes.  To evolve as an individual one needs to adapt to their new surroundings and take in aspects of their current situation so that it can mold them into a functioning member of their new life.  A few memories of their former self is good to keep ones' roots alive, but to hold on to too much could interfere with new growth.

This openness is really important when I think about what I have gotten myself into.  This is no move to a different state in the US or a vacation in a foreign land.  I am moving to East Asia.  My sleep patterns and dreams are all over the place these days and my nerves go through cycles of excitement, calm, confidence and anxiety.  I have to admit I am psyched though.  Disappointment in the good 'ol USA has grown tenfold and life here predictable.  My surroundings lose their luster rather quickly and life seems a bit stagnate.  I am looking forward to a challenge and from everything I have read about Korea, a challenge awaits me without a doubt.  A monkey wrench thrown right in the middle of the mundane cycle of life that continues like clockwork...    

Holiday Cheer As My Arrival Date Draws Near

Anxiousness coupled with insomnia equals late nights and eventually crashing in the early morning hours around 4am these days... uncertainty about my preparation for the rapidly approaching overseas venture fills me with perpetual anxiety.  This has been the pattern over the last many nights.  Watching movies until the wee hours of the morning gives me back pains from the recliner.  My posture:  impotent and sloven as I munch on chips and dip and pickles sweet and sandwich dills, green olives stuffed with garlic and jalepenos and slices of block cheddar while my vision blurs from the bright, throbbing plasma TV barking at me in Dolby stereo.

On this night a few beers has allowed me to digress into some crude Photoshop Christmas card making.  Sending these juvenile creations to my friends via the internet has made me happy.  Bill Maher pasted next to Paris Hilton and Tiger Woods with the phrase Merry XXX Mas! at the top and HO! HO! HO! placed under each image complimented my demented mood as I sent it off to many a buddy.  I used the paint tool to write the words in Xmas colors and haphazardly cut out the images of the celebrity sex addicts using the magnetic wand.  Cut and paste, technology, minimalism.  What more do modern day artist's need?  I feel a similar satisfaction with the end result of this 15 minute defecation as I do when I finish a piece after 120 hours or more of labor... my blood and sweat in charcoal.  Instant imagery is all the rage no?  One need not make art by the skilled hand any longer, ability is trumped by accessibility.  Appropriation saves the day with some whimsical negativity... Fine art is dead and so are our idols... true or false?

Blogs I Like and Why

It finally dawned on me after months of dropping by certain blogs to add them to my blog page.  Not only is it easier to visit their site from mine, I can see whether they have updated their blog.  Also, if I want to read something I am now logged onto my own page where I might possibly do some writing myself.  That is the point of this blog thing isn't it?  It makes sense to display others' blogs as well, because the ones I keep reading are the ones that keep writing.  That is motivation for me to stay on it.  Sometimes I struggle with the self starter in me and need a little reminder from the others out there to not be so damn lazy.  We all struggle with this on some level in some area in our lives and need a little kick start.

I see it a bit like a healthy competition.  Blogger (a ) and blogger (b) have completely different styles compared to blogger (c) and myself.  Each blogger is responsible for maintaining their unique approach to their blog.  I visit these blogs because I like their differences in format and the way that they read.  I don't compare one with the other because I get satisfaction out of each blog in various ways.  Some may have a rigid structure, or personal system of rules that they apply to each post and others may be a bit more off the cuff.  I like different writing styles.

For instance, so far I have chosen to follow four blogs.  Each blog satisfies a different personal interest or taste.  My friends Kahi and Louise are galavanting around the world in search of surf and sights.  Their blog 'Scribbles Abroad' allows me to travel with them and read about their adventures while looking at beautiful photographs throughout.  They actually changed the format of their earlier entries that consisted of way more writing and a few pictures, but decided friends would rather see wonderful pictures with detailed captions describing the photos.

Then there are the three Korea based blogs that I consistently enjoy.  I will be joining the likes of these three bloggers in a different part of Korea teaching English and documenting my journey, so naturally I wanted to read up on others experiences.  There are so many to choose from, but I find these three, out of hundreds- if not thousands, satisfying in their own unique way.  I am attracted to their writing style and personalities for whatever reasons that seem to please me when I read them.

'An Idiot's Tale' is one blog that I get a kick out of.  The author reminds me of a married Bukowski type character who is blunt, foul and witty with no filler.  It is a light hearted blog that reflects his daily routine with the antics that come with being a "white devil" married to a Korean woman with two little half breed spawn.  He writes in short sentences like Chinaski and makes me laugh.

Another Korea blogger who I enjoy is a Scotsman who pen's 'Korean Rum Diary'.  I was instantly drawn to his critical views and detailed, introspective writing about why he finds Korea wrong in many ways.  He is satisfyingly negative at times.  There are photos here and there as well.  I feel the need to read him so as to remind myself to lighten-up once I am in the thick of things overseas.  I relate to him in so many personality traits.  I read him to prepare myself and not freak out when I run into the well documented scenarios he rants about that seem inevitable in Korea.  I want to keep my wits about me, keep my job and do my best to not rock the boat.  This is something that I have a history of not being good at.  I am a critical, cynical bastard myself and I am trying tone it down a bit.  If we met in the streets of Daegu, I imagine we would raise hell together.

The third Korea blogger I find to be very informative writes, 'Sorry I Was Drunk'.  He is a native Korean who has attended school and lived in the US and Korea.  His unique perspective of life growing up in both places provides introspection about Korean culture that a white Westerner might not understand.  Also, he is fluent in both languages and he writes well thought-out comparisons of East and West.  His posts are very long at times, but I enjoy reading so this is a plus.  He posts some very interesting links relative to the topics he chooses to discuss, as do the the others.

 Now maintaining my blog is a different animal.  My writing might pull from various places from where  these favorite blogs of mine derive, but it is up to me to keep at it.  The pressure one puts on one's self lay in the format which one has chosen to manage their own blog.  But the competition factor stems from seeing the commitment that others have made to their blog regardless of what the subject matter is.  That having been said, I would like to thank the bloggers who have inspired me to take up such a commitment oriented task that I now feel obligated to maintain, because of their commitment to the craft.  I do plan to make my blog more appealing, adding pictures and possibly links when I see fit later as well.  I appreciate the inspiration people.  Mahalo.

It is also important for me to clarify statements made in earlier posts regarding how I am going to handle life in Korea once I am over there.  While it is completely necessary that I believe in myself to handle what comes my way in the most mature and calm manner, it is a well known fact that in the face of such situations, it is easier said than done.  There is no real way to prepare myself for life in a foreign country that is so blatantly different to the West.  Of this I am aware.  I simply needed to outline my approach on how I should handle myself as a reminder.  I probably should print and paste a "Rules of Engagement" manifesto to my studio apartment wall upon arrival.  Smile, nod your head, keep your mouth shut, breathe...   

Mentally Packing, Not Yet Packing

My flight overseas to the land where kimchi curdles is rapidly approaching.  As I count down the days, I mentally prepare by doing absolutely nothing.  While I feel that I should be practicing Korean using the various forms of media that I have purchased and that are available to me online, I find that it is extremely difficult to focus on any task Korea related.  Also, my dad has a dish and a 47" flat screen that I stare at like a cluster of bugs on the hallway light at a cheap motel.  

 I have visualized packing numerous times, yet have failed to physically pack my bags.  Piles of clean, folded clothes stare at me from the end of my bed.  I need to separate the mountain of wardrobe and trim the fat substantially to pack efficiently and save room for things more oddly shaped than clothes.  The discarded clothing items are going to be donated to the Salvation Army.  I am determined to let go of clothing that I will not need, the excess shirts that have long since faded,  items that only get worn on dirty laundry days.

The last thing I want to do is bring too many clothes overseas to pile up on me in my tiny studio apartment.  It would be embarrassing to have new acquaintances relate the odor in my studio to that of a filthy, musty gym sock or worse.  My nose isn't the best, so the possibility of another form of stench lingering and plucked from the air by a keener sniffer could create an unwanted stigma attachment, an awkward moment for both parties.  I hope to reduce my clothes pile to necessary work clothes:  slacks, dress shirts, ties and also my boardshorts,  two jeans, a few weeks worth of teeshirts, boxer briefs and socks.  Two jackets, two hoodies, a few beanies... the desire to fit everything in two bags makes this a daunting task.

Another dilemma is sorting through my book collection and deciding what to leave behind.  This is not fun.  I need to bring the ones I have not yet read and feel I should bring those I have finished to possibly trade or lend out.  I'd hate to only bring the unread books and have inquiries from visitors and me feeling selfish for not wanting to lend them out because I still plan to read them.  I will see how many I can fit once the necessities are accounted for and not go over in baggage weight.

All this mental sorting for weeks and not doing it is getting me nowhere.  I need to do a dry run to see what fits...

The language barrier dilemma is a whole-nother ball of kimchi.  I have tried to sit down and focus on a few language items, but beyond the basic hello and thank you, I am useless.  The chances of retention and the possibility of successfully using any Korean right away is unlikely.  I have managed to learn to pronounce and write the basic hangul alphabet, which is no grand fete I promise you.  I rely on the idea of emersion being the only way for me to learn the language and hope to deal with any initial language struggles calmly, as they are to be expected.  I have experienced that discomforting feeling once before in Europe, so I am familiar with the sting of ignorance during a period of adjustment.

 I have been researching etiquette however, knowing that a cultural understanding about how one should act in Korea proves to be far more valuable than speaking the language initially.  I find these differences to Western ways charming and I am not the slightest bit frustrated by these different ways of doing things.  I am not the stubborn foreigner who feels there is one correct way, unwavering in my stance bound by Western logic and look forward to a cultural awakening through observation and assimilation.

 Until the novelty of newness wears off, I will be alive with wonder.  When I feel I have seen it all and become opinionated one way or another and let my pride interfere, that is when I will need to step back and evaluate the situation and make a decision.  I am smart enough by now to know that an adventure like this has no room for snap judgments. My livelihood is at stake and I am excited to go with the flow even if it looks like it is headed up a morbid, stinky stream of hateful piss and vinegar.  All I need to do to get over whatever comes my way is think back to the archives of lows I have survived before and laugh.  There is plenty of material in the back catalogs of my often tragically humorous existence to pull from and I welcome any experience that has the balls to try and top my greatest hits so far... i better get packing.