it's always great to see familiar faces here in seoul.

two of my good friends from nyc just left after a five-day visit to see me, and i had a blast reuniting with them and showing the both of them around the city. i will write a proper post about their trip (with pics galore from their camera) in another update.

i've also seen some relatives from the u.s. who all came to korea for various reasons. most of them haven't been here for years but they all just happened to separately arrive for visits in october. one of those relatives is my paternal grandma who lives in alaska, and i'm grateful to be spending some time together with her. i've previously blogged about her and my deep affection for her, so having the opportunity to hold her hand and walk around together in seoul has been really special for me.

she hasn't been in korea for eight years and is basically here for vacation and to reconnect and visit with old friends. she's staying at the one of her friend's houses and i've already dropped by numerous times to spend time with her. sometimes i really wish i had a camera in korea because walking into her friend's residence to see ten korean grandmas in deep conversation and gossip is definitely a sight to see. the usual view of the room is a circle of grandmas speckled by me. from your point of view, whether you see me sitting at the 3 o'clock, 11 o'clock or whatever part of the circle, their natural camaraderie hoops even through me and while i'm more of an observer than contributor to their discussions, i can feel their strong spirit of affinity. most of the times i like to just sit there and listen to them. i also like to study their faces closely and wonder about their journeys and how their lives have been up until now. she has different visitors on a daily basis and i never realized how social and popular my grandma was. i've also luckily been able to witness firsthand the moments when she's reunited with someone and to observe their first embraces, hugs and locks of eye-contact after almost a decade apart makes me feel extremely blessed and humbled.

there are also so many little things that my grandma does which make my heart smile. she'll pull me aside to the bedroom she's staying in with her luggage and inconspicuously tell me to open my bag and then stuff it with coffee, snickers bars and soap. korea wasn't always as modern as it currently is, and for the past few decades, she's used to visiting with bags filled with american products that normally were unavailable here. of course i don't tell her that all the items she's stuffed my backpack with are things that can be found at almost any korean convenience store, but i thank her for the goodies and tell her i'll use it sparingly. there are also times when we'll walk down the street not sure of where we're going, and she'll go up to anyone doing anything in order to ask them for directions. whether they're in mid-conversation or about to take a bite of food, she will approach them. and it's funny because she'll sometimes start to walk away in the middle of their explanation and they'll look at her in bewilderment. she doesn't walk away because she's trying to be rude because she's actually one of the nicest and kindest people i know, but just because she's usually anxious to get to where we're going and is on her way as soon as she knows where to go. also every single time we ride a taxi, she'll take out a roughed-up plastic ziplock bag from her purse and give the give the driver a single piece of hard candy. they usually tell her it's not necessary, but she absolutely insists the treat until they eventually always succumb with a smile.

my grandma is leaving back for alaska on sunday, and i'm actually going to be the one taking her to the airport to see her off. i'll be sad to see her leave but am so thankful for the time we've been able to spend together in korea.

the ring time for cellphones in korea is way too long.

usually in the states, when you call someone on their cellphone, it rings maybe 5 or 6 times max and then goes straight to voicemail, correct? in korea, the phone rings for what feels like almost a full minute before it goes to voicemail, and then in general people in korea don't really do voicemail so i think it's pointless to let the phone keep ringing. if the person i'm calling doesn't pick up within the first 3-4 rings, i assume they're just not available and hang up. i also am not able to silence my phone when it rings on vibrate and hate it when i'm screening my calls and the person let's it ring the full minute and i can't do anything about it. i mean, sure, i guess i could pick up but sometimes i just don't feel like talking to anyone.

manic neurosis.

i'm almost halfway through reading the fountainhead by ayn rand.

i know this book is ordinarily suggested high school reading material and teenagers who have already read it may tersely remark "DUH" with my stating the obvious, but i'm reading this for the first time at the age of 27 and all i can say is, howard roark is my hero...

why do i feel like i'm running out of time?

i guess it's a good thing that will put some fire under my ass.

you know those rare moments in life where everything is alright with the world and you're sitting on the elevated backseat of a city bus with the best view onboard of inside and outside the vehicle and you're listening to nina simone's "little girl blue" as you watch the city of seoul and its nighttime energy pan by with its countless dwellers and flashing neon advertisements while staring at the backs of the other riders' heads as you ponder where they're coming from or where their destination is or what they're looking forward to in life or what particular smell brings them back to their childhood and every detail in your surroundings seems to have its own spotlight making each swinging bus-handle hanging from the ceiling have a personal story about all the differents hands it encountered today and the appearingly exhausted torn leather seats with husky voices from too many cigarettes seem in desperate need of whiskey and good conversation and you're actually able to lose yourself for an instant and forget you're on the way to your shitty ass bartending job?

well, i live for those moments.

i really loathe the word "fusion" and think it should be banished.

i thought running away to korea would spare me the agony of cringing from hearing it uttered, but i'm sad to report that that is so not the case.

i'm currently alone at a "music bar" in hongdae.

the place is located in the basement of a building and it's super dark in here. the bar is pretty much lit by candles and the glow of laptop screens, and the smell of stale cigarette smoke lingers with every breath i take---but it's okay because their draft beer is cheap and served in glasses that are so ice-cold that the coaster sticks to the bottom edge like a small kid getting a haircut while sitting on a phonebook . there's classic rock n' roll from the fifties blasting on the speakers and obligatory posters of b.b. king and jazz books scattered throughout the place and the overall atmosphere is relaxed and low-key. i've been walking around for the past few hours or so, just continuing to explore all the small alleys and side streets of the neighborhood while looking for a relatively inexpensive place to grab some dinner. i'm not sure how nutritional a meal of draft beer and stale tortilla chips is, but i guess it will have to suffice.

i had an off-day last night while working at the bar, and today was just one of those days where i wanted to be alone with nothing but my thoughts, music and comfortable sneakers while wandering around seoul on foot with no agenda. i think i think too much and sometimes i wonder if all this solitude i feel really has anything to do with my surroundings. am i just destined to be always feel alone? but even if i am, i guess i'm okay with it. rather, i guess what i need to focus on is finding a way to feel fulfilled in life. i'm pretty happy here in seoul, though. who knows. do you know? yeah, me neither.

well, the bar has now switched to playing sappy (but excellent) korean ballads. i feel like i would love to partake in a good sob session to let out some steam, but unfortunately i'm usually incapable of producing anything beyond a tear or two.

i'm really starting to take a liking to seoul.

it's funny how when i returned from my trip to japan and was riding the subway home from the airport, i felt this huge wave of relief come over me. having spent 4 days in a country and city where i didn't know the language and found it somewhat challenging to get around, i felt really excited and happy to be back in korea. the unexpected emotion was really an odd surprise but just goes to show how attached i've become in the past four months.

i still have moments when i'm on the bus alone at night, staring out the window and gazing at all the buildings and people, where it doesn't feel real that i'm actually here. if only i could finally find a job and make some decent money so i could live in this city for awhile, that would be ideal.

anyway, just as i did in nyc, i love walking around seoul and stumbling upon old relics and plaques indicating the historical significance of the spot and what once transpired there.

while the city is very modern with sleek buildings and state-of-the-art architecture, seoul is steeped in thousands of years of history. it's common to find an old palace or historical structure surrounded by glass towers and soaring advertisements made with neon signs and blinking lights. there's a lot of contrast here between the old and the new, and i love thinking about how different the city was a long time ago.

the area of the bar that i work at is within walking distance of gwanghawmun, which is a large gate that leads to one of the former main palaces in seoul. it was constructed in 1395 and is now one of the most popular and scenic spots in the city for natives and tourists. sometimes when i get off of work really late at night, i like to walk around the area alone. it can be eery when desolate, but it's great because there's a lot to see, including huge statues of iconic figures from korean history. i like to think about what it was like to walk down that very same street hundreds of years ago and imagine how everyday life was back then. what did they eat for breakfast? what was a popular topic of conversation? where did they go for fun? what were their hardships? i also think about the era of when my parents were my age in the seventies, and ponder how different it was for them to take a stride through the city. my mom told me she remembers as a young girl when she first saw bananas being sold in seoul, and how exotic and expensive they were. things have definitely changed since then and while i'm grateful for modern technology and growth that korea has undergone the past decades, a part of me wishes i was able to experience a simpler time as well.

here are a few photos of my parents (and one of my maternal grandma) in korea from when they were younger and what seems like another lifetime ago in the seventies. if only i could live a day in the background of these photos.

sometimes, i miss my sister and friends back in nyc so much.

but life goes on. thank god for the internet and email.

thanks to technology, catching up on recent episodes of american televisions shows are just a click away online. most networks are able to sell more advertising by making their shows available on their homepages or portals like hulu, and it's a win-win situation for everyone!

however, i've sadly learned that the vast majority of these websites and portals don't allow video access to people who are using a computer from an international location. i'll click a link to watch something and get excited because of course the fucking online-ad always streams (and i've just increased the number of page views for the website's sales team), but the moment the video should start, i'll see a message such as "unable to offer this video to users of your region."

it sucks. a lot.

thankfully, there are a small handful of websites with videos that are accessible from korea. one is msnbc.com and i've been watching the rachel maddow show religiously. i didn't really get into it back in nyc, but now i've become a hardcore fan and never miss an episode. i'm really stupid and not knowledgable when it comes to politics, but i love how her shows breaks everything down simply so even an idiot like can me can understand. i definitely recommend it to anyone who wants to be more informed on the current events of politics in america. it disgusts me that some candidates are just liars and downright distrustful people who get rich from their hatred and cater to certain deplorably ignorant americans.

on a side note, i had the pleasure of briefly interacting with ms. maddow while i was working in the service industry in nyc, and i can attest that she is very gracious, humble, and an extremely generous tipper.

i like people who are serious.

god, i hate it when people spit into ashtrays.

"Can I be honest with you, Mr. Wind-up Bird ? I mean, really, really, really honest? Sometimes i get sooo scared! I'll wake up in the middle of the night all alone, hundreds of miles away from anybody, and it's pitch dark, and I have absolutely no idea what's going to happen to me in the future, and I get so scared i want to scream. Does that happen to you, Mr. Wind-up Bird?"

the wind-up bird chronicles, by haruki murakami. page 449.

i first read this book almost ten years ago, and started it to re-read it a month ago in korea. i finished it when i was in japan and was pleasantly surprised at how much more positive my experience of reading it was. prior, it wasn't one of my top choice murakami books, but i thoroughly enjoyed it a lot more this time around.

one of my favorite lines is the quote above. it's exactly how i feel when i wake up in my windowless room in seoul.

osaka, japan.

me and the "self-timer" option on my friend's camera became bff's during this trip.