233: 100TAM 2.0 (Work In Progress #4)

This is the fourth installment of the second list. This one, let me tell you, is long overdue. And I promise it won't be as wordy as my other list.

1. I'll start with a secret. Shhh, don't tell anyone, but I'm... an American.
2. I don't look it, because, well, I come from a Korean stock. (It's a fancy way of saying I was born in Korea.)
   
3. So, I'm a Korean-American. Oh, by the way, did you notice the hyphen?
4. Since no one ever asks, I'll just go on and share: No. 3 is one of my many reasons for this barely noticed humble blog's moniker.
   
5. And it pains me to acknowledge this but... It's shocking... I've an accent.
6. But no, no, no. All but the first three years of my schooling from kindergarten to grad school was in these States.
7. It's just that (and let me use my favorite excuse) I've been for a good few months in the latter part of what I call "transition years" a mute. So the language center of my brain, undergoing a tremendous amount of stress (and I'm using my highly acute skill of diagnosis), failed to develop normally.
   
8. When I did regain my "voice," the Korean I spoke was tainted with an American accent, and I spoke it poorly. Compounding further my language impediment, as those who've met me will attest, Me don't speaks the Engrish very good.
9. Yes, growing up, I've been called by many snooty American-born Korean- and other Asian-Americans a FOB. And when you can't kill 'em, you join 'em. I am a FOB, I'll remain a FOB, I shall die a FOB. The irony is, though, a lot of them were homo-ethnics (a new word I am coining now; homo-ethnic [noun]: a person who tends to socialize exclusively with those of the same ethnic or racial background, out of convenience or out of racism.)
10. While we're on the subject of "homo," Je suis un homosexuel; Soy un homosexual; 私は同性愛者である；나는 동성애자 이다; I am a homosexual. (Eh! Sounded too formal...) I'm a fag. (Hmm... a little derogatory, no?) I'm a gay man. I am gay. (Ok, better.)
    
11. It seems when you're gay, you need to be able to disclose certain information like... like... like your sex life depends on it. Such as: "Hi, I'm 5' 10" (You say: Okay, that's a good height), 150 lbs (Ooo, a little on the skinny side), just turned 30 (Yikes! But that's okay, as long as... you know... just remember always to subtract 2"), and I'm a down-to-earth, average guy (What?!) looking for the same (*silence*)."
    
12. But the thing is, I'm not just gay. Okay, huddle in closer. Are you close? Okay, I'm not sure how to say it delicately, so I'm just going to say it. Oh, God. Okay, hoo-hoo-hoo. I'm ready. Here it goes. I'm... I'm... Imachrisyun. I'm one of those "Is Jesus your personal Lord and Savior?" Christian.
    
13. Hello?
14. You okay?
15. Did I lose you?
    
16. Well, I was. I am. Well, no. I should clarify: I'm a "Jesus is MY personal Lord and Savior" Christian. I would never impose my beliefs on anyone.
    
17. Look, it's not like I'm saying that I'm a Republican.
18. What?
19. No, no, no.
20. I'm NOT. I'm not a Republican. Believe me.
21. Speaking of the Republicans and their having moved this country in the wrong direction, I've been moved around a lot during the "transition years."
22. The "transition years," I've mentioned in #7, are the first two years I've spent in America, where I was constantly uprooted, living with my relatives instead with my own family.
23. At first, Mom and I fly from Seoul, Korea to Honolulu, Hawaii, to briefly settle with my maternal grandfather. But the stay is all too brief.
    
24. Mom and I find ourselves, next, in the armpit of America, New Jersey, where Mom is hired by her cousin to be the nanny for his two bratty, want-for-nothing children.
    
25. But as soon as I settle, Mom decides to send me to her brother's in Los Angeles. She doesn't join me.
    
26. My aunt grudgingly agrees to watch over me, provided that Mom take me back at the year's end. Yet Mom, finding herself incapable to hold her end of the bargain, sends me instead to my dad's sister's place in Tacoma, Washington.
27. I live there, practically ignored by my guardians and my cousins, until the end of school year. Soon thereafter, I rejoin Mom in New York, in our own place.
28. Mom tells me the boy I was before and the boy I became after the "transition years" are different. She wasn't talking about the height I gained or the number of childhood teeth I lost. Mom has apologized to me. Whenever she recounts our stories, she expresses how she still feels bad.
    
29. I believe Mom shouldn't feel bad at all. It was the situations and circumstances we were in. Hindsight: it's always better than foresight, isn't it?
30. I admit, my biggest fear in life is rejection.
31. So, I don't want to wish my worst fear onto others. It's the hardest thing for me to do, to reject anyone who has found a place in my heart.
    
32. That means, it takes a lot for me to let anyone get close to me.
    
33. But don't get me wrong. I want to be more open, more giving. I'm not an island. Hell, I can no longer stay to be one anymore.
    
34. I hope, though, that those who've gotten to know me find me as their loyal, reliable, and devoted friend.
35. Yes, I want to be known as Caring...
36. And Kind...
37. And Loving.
38. But not Nice. Let's never describe Yours Truly as nice, okay?
    
39. Did you know that the simple philosophy of paying it forward appeals to me.
    
40. If I practice it, live it, maybe I can say that I brought a little bit of Kingdom of Heaven to this world.
    
41. What can you say? I'm naïve enough to believe in world peace.
42. I blame my Christian upbringing.
    
43. Seriously, like the song says, all you need is love.
44. Are you laughing at me? Are you?
45. Eh. Moving on.
    

To be continued...

232: "LOVE"

I tend to fall on the strange side of life. Well, at least I think I do. Consider this:

A boy grows up in what essentially is a single parent household, yet the parents aren't divorced. They are separated by circumstances, or at least that's how the boy sees it. How can he see otherwise when the boy is told that the dad is away in a foreign country to garner income for his wife and son. And once in a while, the dad does come home to stay, with him, the whole family, together.

However, the man who was the boy can't remember if his dad and mom shared the same bed then.

The boy gets up one morning. Rubbing his goop encrusted eyes, he waddles towards the sound of a woman laughing. He opens the door and sees the dad lying on his stomach. Next to his languid body is kneeling a fully clothed lady, who broadens more her already wide smile. With a singsong voice she asks, "Did you get up?" Nodding yes, the boy waddles in for a hug. "Wanna see something?" she whispers into the boy's ear. As the boy nods, she yanks away the blanket, baring the dad's bottom. A gentle smack--her hand meets the flesh. The boy does the same, giggling uncontrollably. "Get up." The boy echoes the same, "get up, get up." And the room fills with Laughter...

Warmth.., and...

Light.

Yet, the man concedes that the memory of the heart may have colored the event with hues of a little stroll in the gentle spring rain or a bike ride through a crisp autumn's day. So, the man doubts and is unsure...

He's unsure if the word, "love," was ever exchanged between them...

God knows, I grew up without ever hearing it from them or using it to them. But I know it was there. Or is it again my heart's memory playing tricks on me?

I remember clearly, how the boy, while returning home from the zoo, held hands with both of his parents, urging them to lift him up, so that he could swing between them, like a little monkey he pretended to be.

231: Let's Whine a Bit, Shall We?

I like whining. Whining makes my day go by. I live to whine. Whining makes me feel like a winner.

So, imagine my whining voice, and in random order, I present you a list of what I whine about:

1. My life sucks.
2. I hate my job.
3. Why don't I have a boyfriend?
4. Why don't I ever get cruised?
5. Match.com hates me.
6. My life sucks.
7. I hate my body.
8. I think I'm losing my hair.
9. I hate my job.
10. I have no social life.
11. Why don't I have friends?
12. I'm getting a pot belly. But I'm still skinny as hell!
13. Dammit, I feel like a poster child for LiveAid.
14. That's too dated. I feel old now.
15. I hate my job.
16. I want a boyfriend!
17. My back hurts.
18. The world's against me.
19. God hates me.
20. Why am I still hungry?
21. Why didn't "Dreamgirls" get the Best Picture nomination?
22. I hate commuting to work.
23. It's so hard finding a perfect place to buy.
24. I wish I had more money.
25. I'm bored, bored, bored, BOOOOOOOOORED.

Seriously, why does my life suck?

WHY?~

230: Image

Take a look at this and let me know what you think:

I can't decide whether I agree with the filmmaker completely. He makes an excellent argument and I understand where he is coming from. Any positive images of minorities in commercials have been slow in coming. And more often than not, Madison Avenue has played into people's negative stereotypes of minorities. Though, his assessment of the last commercial troubles me. If I don't accept his last example, then there's a chance that I'm too ignorant to recognize hatred towards me. If I accept it, then there's a chance that I'm being too sensitive, finding hate where there may be no meaning whatsoever. I don't know. What do you think?

229: Spartans

Mine eyes have seen the hotness of the coming of King Leonidas and his 300 men. I am converted. I shall stand firmly with the warmongers now. Joining their chorus, I shall sing, "Stand and fight!" The American Republic must not rest on its laurels of conquering Babylonia. No, never! While there is radioactive evil lurking just across the border, we must press on and fight on. Yes, like King Leonidas and his 300 men, our warriors, too, must fight the Persians.

But a caveat—our brave warriors must dress like them:


and the must pose like him:


Only then, I give my support wholly and completely.

By the way, I don't know if the filmmaker is making any political statement regarding this current war through the movie, and I highly doubt that there is a commentary, seeing that the graphic novel predates Bush's presidency, but I like creating meanings out of nothing.

228: To Soar and to be Sore

I'm acquiring a new skill; I'm learning to snowboard. Yesterday I went with this gay ski group here in NY to one of their many day trips. I had a very modest goal in learning a new skill: to Toe Edge. Admittedly, acquiring this technique meant I'd spend most of the time coming down the bunny hill in a prone or a supine position. Yes, indeed the morning was discouraging, but due to my natural athleticism (HAHAHA!), by the end of the day, I've got the hang of edging my board with my toe. Yet true to form, I was reminded that in Life, nothing is easy. Pain comes hand in hand with the journey to meet a goal.

227: A "Good Morning" or A "F*ck You"

There are times, while I'm walking on the crowded streets, when suddenly someone starts honking at a taxi cab dropping off a passenger. Soon there after, expletives are exchanged between the offended cabbie and the impatient driver. "F*ck you," one yells. The other counters with the same, only louder. It's a comical display, which only confirms my cynicism, that this is mankind's true nature.

And then every morning, there's this one MTA worker on the platform of Grand Central's Downtown Lexington Avenue Line who greets passengers getting off the train. "Good morning, have a nice day," he says smiling. And every time I see him, my cynical mind tells me either MTA must have a program where they hire retarded people to lighten up the moods of the New York City's worker-drones or he must have found the secret of saying "F*ck you" with a smile and getting the listeners to smile back at him with genuine appreciation.

But if I soften my heart a bit, I can appreciate the MTA worker's daily ritual greeting for what it is. One human being making an effort to connect with another in a kind and sincere way. To bring to someone something positive, even if it's a small gesture of saying a greeting to a stranger. And I hope that this is mankind's true nature.

Or at the very least, my nature...