These are the kind of exchanges you have with your girlfriends who are equally as bitter and jaded:

Me: “F*ck the people in front of me is a couple. All kissy and shit. Poop”

Girlfriend: “Ew. Throw something at them.”

————-

For the record, I did not throw anything at them. Although I was tempted.

And I’m sure they are happy and oblivious which is the way it should be

Those of you who are in happy and mutually loving relationships, WONDERFUL!!

Those of you who feel like empty kicked around tin cans, join the club!

Lets fill our tin cans with humor, lots of bitter jokes and be bitches!!!

I happen to like this couch by the way…maybe because it’s so ugly and old.

It’s quiet. It’s blessfully quiet. My first really quiet weekend since I moved into the city and it feels nice.

Things are slowly starting to fall into a rhythm, a new rhythm, but a great rhythm nonetheless and I love it.

I’m back on my own again and that feeling is so indescribably great. It’s just good.

I am still not settled. Have shit everywhere. My suitcase is full of clothes because I don’t have a dresser and not enough hangers…a complete tangled and twisted mess..

My items are strewn everywhere.

I have no order.

But my room is my room and my place is my place.

No living with parents, nobody to answer to, just me, myself, and I.

In the morning I walked over to Humboldt Park, right down the street from where I live and it was a magical winter wonderland. Snow covered everything and Charlie zipped back and forth, her black coat against the white.

I also discovered the Latin American grocery store of my dreams just around the corner from where I live. Goya food products graced almost every shelf. O heyyyyy.

Produce looked pretty great. I’m excited.

The snow here is a biznatchy bitch though if you don’t have the right shoes.

Chicago, you are mo fuggin’ cold.

But I love it.

The chitter chatter of several conversations happening at the same time all around me.

It makes me happy.

A chuckle.

A look.

A hand gesture.

Intense focus.

A comic facial expression.

Facial expressions in general.

I think that’s one of the biggest reasons why I love cafes.

People, and the random goings-on that I have no part of but still feel like I am indirectly experiencing, just by observing.

Right, I know, I stare. Its not nice. But its fascinating and I’m not harming anyone when I do.

Being alone in a completely different city…where friendships have yet to be firmly established, you miss, you crave the warm and comforting contact of your friends who know you inside and out.

No need to put up any fronts/ facades/ or try extra hard to be liked.

I can just be me and not expect to be judged. To be free. To let go.

I have moved countless times and have made deep, warm and long lasting connections with people from all over the world, but the process of transition is never easy.

You will always feel lonely at some point.

You will always feel embarrassed or uncertain.

Navigating through complex webs of human relationships is a scary process.

People are wonderfully and refreshingly different, and I love and absolutely appreciate that.

BUT that doesn’t mean getting to know people is a piece of pie.

Sitting here, however, knowing no one but still feeling like I’m part of something is like a temporary fix. I don’t have to do anything. I just have to soak in and observe.

——

BTW, Chicago is really fantastic.

I love the dingy smell of the subway or the “El” which is what they call it here.

Haha, I know its gross but I don’t care.

Subway smells take me to precious nostalgic places.

According to my parents, illness comes from an evil heart, a bad mind, and the lack of belief in God.

Either that or I’m just neurotic w/o any explanation but..not really… about the relative health of my body.

When I say “not really” I mean I rarely think about whether my body is pockmarked with some kind of mysterious illness but when I think something is wrong with me, I become hyper sensitive and then come to the conclusion that I might have cancer.

CANCER.

Was probably the most popular method my mother used for deterrance-like methods.

For example:

IF my mother felt like we were eating too many sausages at the table she would say, “Don’t eat too much sausages! You get cancer!”

Whatever she felt her children were taking in excess, she whipped out the CANCER weapon.

After a while, of course, my siblings and I caught on and thought it was absolutely ridiculous BUT, deep down inside, there is always this irrational niggling feeling that someday, somehow, if I ingest something, whether edible or not, in “excess”, I will get cancer. Those thoughts are there. I know it. Even though its completely irrational.

IRRATIONALITY.

BECAUSE, it’s so bizarre, perhaps thats why it sticks. Maybe that’s just what Korean mothers are absolute experts at. Using irrational logic, inserting it into their children’s brains, and letting it simmer slowly even though the individual CLEARLY knows it makes no sense at all.

That might also be the reason WHY, so many of us Korean daughters work extra hard to fight back those ideas because the seeds are planted in our minds from childbirth and once we develop a mind of our own we start desperately trying to sow our own seeds to help color our garden a bit.

Anyways, all of this crazy talk about my body right now stems from my first visit to the chiropractor today.

—-

This morning, I woke up with a painful kink in my neck. I have periodically had these “kinks” after a night of sleep, thinking they were just from sleeping funny. In the last 6 months, I have been having them more than usual.

This morning, I woke up with a nasty kink and decided, hey, why not get it massaged out? I have insurance now to do that! So I asked my mom to set up an appt. with her chiropractor. He also does acupuncture which was something I have always wanted to try.

Turns out that this “kink” isn’t from sleeping funny. It’s from loose ligaments in my neck from studying my whole life hahaha.

He told me that its very common among his young asian patients because all we apparently seem to do, because of parent expectations, is study our asses off. (I know, totally plays into the asian stereotype but kinda makes sense at a general level).

He said, that once I start getting tingling and or pain sensations in my arms, to tell him, right away.

Well….that surprised me because this past week, I have been having these really funny tingling sensations throughout my arms.

So I told him, and then he said, “O no..that’s not good” in a really exaggerated Korean way that scared the shit out of me.

Basically, to make long story short, my ligaments are loose, my neck bones are kind of out of sync cuz of it, and its irritating my nerves causing the funny tingling sensations.

With treatment I can strengthen everything to improve everything.

SO.

I tell my mom and she gets really worried and one of the first things she says is,

“O no, what if you can’t get married because of this. O no, I know you really want to get married.”

No. Mom.

First of all, I never heard of someone not getting married because of a loose ligament in her neck that can be treated.

And No. Mom. I never knew that I really wanted to get married.

BUT YET, a couple hours later I start thinking, hmm… what if this loose ligament in my neck will affect or become a weird issue in my future relationships?

WELL NO ANNA IT WON’T BECAUSE THE IDEA MAKES NO SENSE AND ITS CRAZY.

But even now, I’m thinking, what if, somehow, I have cancer afterall, and me writing about this silly notion to make fun of how idiotic I sound will actually curse me and years later I’ll actually find out I have cancer and crumple to the floor and mouth 2 words.

“How ironic.”

To make this whole loose ligament business so much worse, my dad calls me over and asks me to sit down really close to him.

He then says, “Anna, its because your heart is in the wrong place, and you have not been following God well.”

I roll my eyes and walk away, but there is still a screaming part of me saying, “O you are a bad person Anna. Loose Ligament is your punishment right now for straying from God.”

Somehow, the realization that I have a physical dysfunction has led to dire prospects of marriage and the conviction of my black soul.

No wonder, I’m slightly crazy…

Well marriage right now is a far cry when I can barely handle normal male relationships so I probably just won’t get married.

And well..my black soul..I’ll have to work on that.

There is a baby gate that my parents put in place to cordon off the living room from the rest of our apartment. When she wants me to wake up, she stands by the baby gate and begins to do a little dance, wiggling her body and moving her feet to and fro–thus making the tinkling noise, telling me she is up and ready to go out. For some reason, I always hear it. No matter how tired I am, no matter how late I slept, I always hear the tinkling and it always wakes me up.

I get out of my room, give her a morning greeting, tell her to wait just a little bit in Korean, take a pee-pee, put on some clothes, grab her toys and then make our way to a grassy area that is hidden by a wall of trees on one side and a fence on the other.

Here, Charlie runs about freely, she chases squirrels, we play fetch, sometimes I dance , jump up and down to get her excited,  but in general we just play.

On the other side of the fence, every morning, the clean-up/management crew of the apartment complex starts to get ready for their days work.

I  always marvel at how clean the complex is. Yes, I live in a ghetto neighborhood but the apartment grounds are always meticulously clean and makes the ugly worn down brown colors of the buildings look slightly better.

If one of the huge trash bins is clogged with dirty trash and overflowing, it is almost certain the next morning it will be cleaned. Litter, and anything that looks relatively offensive to the eyes, is picked up in record time.

I started to take notice of this because I am out two, three times a day and the area where I take Charlie is close to some of the trash cans. And always, without fail, whatever mess was left the other day, the next morning, it would be gone.

On this particular morning, while I was getting ready to head back home, one of the workers walked up to the fence where Charlie was playing. He said something very softly but since I had walked ahead, I wasn’t close enough to hear him.

I was a bit apprehensive because I thought he would tell me that I wasn’t allowed to play in the area with Charlie anymore.

I said, “excuse me? I’m sorry I didn’t hear you”

He looked at me trying to repeat what he said, but did a quick shake of his head, and began to slowly walk closer to me.

All the while, Charlie, elated to see someone who might be interested in her, began to follow him along the fence, wiggling her body and tail in excitement.

When he got close enough to me, I could see that he was a middle-aged man, probably in his late 40s or early 50′s, had soft eyes and the lines on his face were kind, the kind of lines that form when you smile often. I relaxed.

“I see you every morning here, playing with your dog. I just wanted to say  you have beautiful dog.”

He spoke in a slightly broken English that was barely noticeable and tinged with a hispanic accent that was not too strong, but clearly there nonetheless.

“O thank you! She loves people, and she is very very sweet.”

“Is she a girl?”

“O yes, she’s a girl. You can pet her!”

He pulled out a brown worn hand that I immediately saw was weathered from hard manual labor.

“does she bite?”

“O no she doesn’t bite, Charlie never bites.”

And he began to pet her head, cooing to her and making my little pup beam with happiness.

“You have a beautiful dog.”

“Thank you! She’s a lot of work though. haha”

“Yes, you are out here early mornings.”

“O yeah, she wakes me up every morning and tells me its time to go out. She complains when I’m not fast enough. Do you have a dog?”

“No, no I don’t have a dog.”

I wanted to tell him, that I noticed the great job they were doing on the grounds so I quipped in,

“You know, you guys do a great job around here. I am always amazed at how clean this place is.”

“Thank you, we work hard. But they fire us. We work until Friday and we have to go.”

“O no…! Why? You guys do such an amazing job? Why would they fire you?”

“I don’t know. Every day, we clean and work hard. But they fire us, tell us that Friday our last day.”

“O no. Did you find a new job?”

“No, but I will have to find new job soon.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that… My name is Anna by the way, what is yours?”

“Manuel.”

I extended my hand out for a handshake and we shook hands.

“It was very nice to meet you Manuel.”

“It was nice to meet you Anna.”

“If I see you tomorrow morning Manuel, I’ll say hi!”

“Okay, Anna.”

He smiled at me and I waved back.

I walked away with my heart so heavy.

Anger, helplessness, despair, sad…I felt all that at the same time.

The world is unfair. The world is so unfair.

I wish I could have helped him. I have no money, no connections, no job, no power.

What I do have though is my membership. I have citizenship. But these people do not. We forget what a scary world it is when we are without papers, when we are without place, continually in transition, living in unknown, undefined spaces. There is no safety net. Uncle Sam is not for them.

Clearly, Manuel was an illegal immigrant. Clearly, he could do nothing about being let go without word, without reason.

This is the reality that so many of us don’t see. The reality that so many of us ignore.

The jobs that nobody cares to have but is so essential towards the safe maintenance of our streets, our public spaces, are filled up by our illegal immigrants, yet we fail to acknowledge the magnitude of their contributions.

Depressing.

From the moment I sat down at my desk in the morning with cup of coffee in hand I have been reading, editing, writing, and working on something or other, glued to my chair except the occasional breaks to eat and go potty. I also, in the evening rushed on over for 2 huge slices of pie with my new sister and Sammy, but continued to work at their house until I was too exhausted to do anything any longer. But, when I came back home, I took a shower, refreshed my mind and took another crack at some edits that were causing me trouble and finally at a little over half past 11, I called it a day.

I’m thoroughly tired, my eyes hurt, my lips are dry, and all my senses are slightly degenerating into a state of dullness. But I’m happy. I’m happy because I was productive. Because my work helped somebody else today. Because I was using my brain and the gears, gadgets, and lights that compose my neurotic spongy mess were blinking, making noises, and doing something positive.

Mind-less work kills. Mind-full work however, that is what keeps me going.

Btw, I like how you can “hear a smile” when somebody is talking.

Today on npr radio, one of the reporters stumbled on her script and I heard her slight smile as she finished the rest of the news.

Good night folks, I am going to bed.

I actually snuck out of my house at the age of 22 to secretly watch a movie at the AMC theater nearby.

I have been itchin’ to watch Moneyball for quite a while and for somebody who rarely, if ever, goes to the movies, when I actually feel like going, I have to go. When I’m itchin’ for something, it has to be scratched.

I asked my dad if he wanted to watch a movie with me a couple of weeks ago and he agreed but it never happened.

I asked my brother and it never happened.

So I just made it happen myself.

Tonight, around 9:56 p.m. I just wanted to go and get out.

I hurriedly looked up times and saw that Moneyball was starting at 10.

4 min. away including previews I had about 15 min.

I didn’t hesitate.

I just got up, very quietly, put on my rain coat, pulled on my boots, silently, o so silently grabbed the keys, cracked open the front door and tip-toed out of the house.

I knew my dad thought I was getting up to go to bed so everything worked out just fine.

I finally found the theater way in the back of some small mall. I remember cursing the unnecessarily huge parking lots, yelling, “this is suburban hell!” trying to find my way to the god forsaken theater. I mean why did’t the AMC theater signs correspond to the placement of the actual theater?!!! I lost precious minutes because of that!!!

I ran out of the van once I parked, raced up to the obnoxiously big glass doors, rushed on in to the ticket counter and asked for one ticket to Moneyball.

He took my card, gave me my tickets and told me, “enjoy the movie”

I said, “thanks and you too, I mean not you too, of course not, you aren’t watching a movie” and mumbled my way out into the main hall and on to my designated theater.

Theater 9.

I walked in to the huge theater, all empty, except of course, that couple in the way back being all gross together.

Why did they choose the wayyyyy back when the whole place was empty anyways???

Well better for me. I chose the perfect middle. The spot everybody wants. The choicest seat.

Then I sat and enjoyed the whole movie. From beginning to end.

It was good. I laughed. I had a grand time.

Then I walked out, rushed back to my car, and drove on home.

Slipped back into the house, put on my pajamas, and here I am, back on my couch writing about my date out.

Another day successfully complete.

Good night.

Iono but soy milk might just almost get you there.

Currently, I feel very good. I just had some organic soy milk and some sweet chewy glutinous rice cake with sweet red beans and it made me feel really happy.

Maybe thats just the formula to rule the world.

They should make injections like that.

Don’t ruin your body with steroids.

Instead!

inject into your veins some soy!

I think this is the winning ticket. I need to patent this.

My catchy advert. line would go like this:

Soy injections.

A mixture of sweet rice cake, red beans, and that precious protein!

It’s all natural, healthy, and a quick fix!

No more chewing, no more of that tedious swallowing!

All you need to do is stick, shoot, and smile!

OK honestly… that sounds super freaky. I don’t even know why I wrote this or where I’m going with this. I just feel super happy after that delicious snack. It was so yummy, I’m spewing crazy talk from my mouth that could land me in the fun house.

Anyways I need to go to bed now on this happy feeling.

So where am I right now?

Right now, I’m sitting on my couch, stealing wifi from someone’s apartment nearby, with Charlie sleeping next to me–her head smashed up against my leg, belly-up and all her private parts shamelessly exposed to the world.

——

On the train ride back home from work, my dad calls me and tells me that he’s going to treat me to McDonald’s. My dad thinks McDonald’s is my favorite restaurant in the world. It is definitely not but it has a fond place in my heart because of the many meals the Lee family has sat down and eaten on those tacky pastel color seats.

Seeing my mom eating her “pishee (fish) burger” and hastily putting fries in her mouth is simply so very endearing to me now.

——

Now to work.

I hate it.

I sit in a designated cubicle all day, sequestered in a small space looking at small lists, several excel spreadsheets, crunching data, and calling people I have never met before all day.

I count down the days until this job is over but I will definitely be thankful for the CASH OF WHICH I HAVE NONE RIGHT NOW.

The only thing that makes the job bearable and pushes me to try my hardest is the people because they are nice.

I NEED TO BE ENGAGED WITH MY BRAIN OR ELSE I WILL DIE.

I STILL BELIEVE GOOD THINGS WILL COME MY WAY.

—–

Text exchange today at work with Katie Lee because it was such a ridiculously long day.

Me: Shoot me.

Katie Lee: Bbang!!

Me: Thank you. I’m now bleeding on the floor and will soon die.

——

The other day my parents began to appraise each others’ bodies and criticize one another for the sad deteriorating physical state of affairs.

Dad: Look at your mom’s butt, look how saggy it is.

Mom: So WHAT? Look at your dad’s belly! Look at how its so big and his butt is worse than mine.

And there the two stood, picking their bodies apart while I sat there watching them, clutching my stomach and lurching around with laughter because it was so funny.

I will do this when I get older. I’m going to lovingly lambaste my graying, degenerating old husband, having a joyous and comical go at his wobbly parts while he takes stabs at mine so we can revel in the ugliness and beauty of OLD.

——

Charlie just farted and it smells terrible.

——

I have become a hermit. I would rather stay at home reading, doing random things and stimulating my mind when I’m not sleeping or romping around with Charlie outside than socializing.

I say I can’t wait ’til I move out countless times, which is true but at the same time, I have become OK with living at home. I have created my own quiet solitary world for myself. My own routine. The only way I’ll be happy when I replace this routine is if its replaced with something gratifying and exciting.

For now…that has not happened. So every time I go downtown, I wish I was home because I’m conflicted. I love downtown and the bustling streets of chicago but because I don’t live there, and I go there, not to enjoy myself but to have 9 hours of pain, I wish I wasn’t there.

——

I need to stop complaining.

——

I have a list of all these issues on my whiteboard that I want to write for my political blog. I haven’t written a post for the website in over a month and a half because of job applications but also because I keep on getting distracted by other potential topics. I want to get my blog going but I just haven’t had the time!!!

——

I’m going to start studying for my GRE’s soon! Let the graduate school applications begin!!

The field is separated from nearby houses by a fence that runs along one side so you can usually peer into the backyard of the homes.

As a frequent visitor of this park with Charlie, I have, on many occasions looked at these huge backyards with equally impressive homes with longing.

Only because I think to myself, “if I lived in a place with such a huge backyard, Charlie would be happy and content foreverrrrr.”

However, on this particular afternoon, a yellow lab appeared from one of the backyards and ran up to the fence, boisterously barking at Charlie.

Charlie and I had seen her before and so we both greeted her and said our “hi”s:

Charlie, sticking her nose through the holes in the fence, and me poking my fingers through the same holes to lightly touch her pink nose.

She usually disappeares after that but this time she decidedly wanted to stay.

I talked to her for a bit, saying silly nothings, and telling her she was pretty and all, but soon after, I was poked by charlie to continue playing fetch with her.

So I picked up the offending stick and threw it as far as my feeble arms could throw it.

All of a sudden,

Yellow (that’s her name for now) started to bark forcefully and whine at the same time. I’m no dog whisperer, but you could clearly tell from the longing in her voice that she wanted to play too.

And for the first time, I could see that for Yellow, the other side of the fence looked so much more greener at that moment. Charlie was uninhibited by fence, free to run wherever she pleased, while Yellow could go no further.

Filled with empathy, I decided to somehow conduct a game of fetch for both Charlie and Yellow.

I fished around for another stick, and when I found one, I threw Charlie’s and then immediately threw the second one into Yellow’s backyard so she can catch it and hopefully bring it back to me.

Somehow, this awkward game of fetch worked for a bit. Yellow would hobble on over like Labs do, grab the stick and bring it close enough to me by the fence, so I can squeeze my little hands through the holes to grab the stick and throw it back into her backyard again.

I was a little apprehensive about what the owner would have done if he/she saw a random asian girl, poking her hands in through his fence, and sometimes underneath it to throw random sticks into the backyard …but thankfully I didn’t get caught.

I even managed to play an awkward game of tug of war with Yellow, pulling a stick from one side of the fence as she tugged from the other.

When I decided it was time to brush Charlie because she had a lot of loose fur, we both sat down near the fence so Yellow wouldn’t be lonely.

So there we were, a funny trio of three, separated by a fence but still managing to keep each other company.

While I brushed Charlie, Yellow laid right up against the fence to be near the activity.

Afterwards they both ran up and down along the metal fence, playing with each other as best as they could. Charlie ran around in circles, dashing in and out while Yellow did the same but was continuously stopped by her boundaries.

Maybe, one day I’ll have enough guts to knock on the door and ask if Yellow can come out and join us on the other side.