Monday, December 20, 2010

I'm No Monkey and I'm No Cat...Do I Have to Be an Animal?

aww life.

I'm on my last cigarette and it's 144am. It's time to go home to sleep but the world keeps calling me asking me to engage in it with passionate rage. The Koreans are drifting home one by one from their passionate pursuit in their fantasy world. It begs me to question what kind of fantasy world I'm living in. Over the past 4 months I have felt like I am in one...without an avatar to fight the battles that come my way.

The people I meet think they are in an interview right off the bat. Tonight I had a date (well it wasn't a date exactly...but you know) with a beautiful Korean woman and she said "are you interviewing me?" I'm just curious; about everything. I'm curious to the point of madness. I'm curious about what spots are the best for cab drivers to pick people up in Seoul. I'm curious why the Seoul metro is so clean. I'm curious why Korean girls cover their mouth when they laugh. I'm curious why no one here cares about North Korea. I'm curious why I like smoking so much.

So basically I've figured out, to much of my astonishment, that people aren't as curious as I am. I'm very weary of people who aren't curious. The questions that run through my ever curious mind from day to day serve as a base point for how I interact with people. So are you curious?

I wouldn't assume that people should be curious all the time. Most people aren't curious...but I would assume that curiosity is what produces many things: great works of art, great companies, great salesman, and lastly great friendships. You can't have a great friendship if you aren't curious. I don't mean figuratively but rather literally. A great friendship consists on the basis that you're curious about the other person. Curious to understand why they view the world the way they do. Curious to take a walk in their shoes and love them unconditionally. Curious to know why they're crying or why they just broke up with their boyfriend. This is the curiousity that drives most of what I do and most, if not all, of my interactions with people I come into contact with.

People are always making fun of the amount of facebook friends I have. It's quite funny because I don't understand how it's hard for people to make friendships or why having a lot of facebook friends is negative. (I know you don't view them as real friendships but I do...because I've met 98% of the people I'm friends with) I simply think the whole time people are saying this that it's so easy to make friends with just have to be curious. People think they're in an interview when I meet them because I ask them a lot of questions...not because I'm nosy...which people (you) probably think I am...but because I'm curious as hell why they are the way they are.

There is obviously levels of friendships but I view friendships as a very sacred thing. I honor my friendships I have with people and think of them as very important...the most important. 

A simple questions opens up so many understandings about that person that not asking that question didn't before. And everyone has some wisdom to bestow on everyone. I'm looking for wisdom.

When I'm asking questions, this is what's going through my mind: what question can I ask this person that no one has ever asked them before. I believe there's a question for every person that they haven't ever been asked before and I'm bound to find out what that question is for every person.

There's no point to this post other than asking you to be more curious with the people you meet. Why? Because people need to be loved and your curiosity will open up their heart to you to really know what's going on...instead of talking about Kim Kardashian or the most recent basketball game. People often say to me, "I can't believe I'm telling you this." I can...because I care. Get deep. Don't be afraid. love. war.

Then Jesus said to his host, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.

Things to think about:
Now can controlling something make it more free?
-Woman being lonely after they have a child.
-downloading songs vs buying them.
-watching too much TV.

Things to watch:
Lets talk parenting taboos

Things to listen to:
Inna - Love

Thursday, December 9, 2010

A Three Foot Ball of Fire Wrapped in Korean Skin; Squinty Eyes and All

As far as I know all little boys are a little wild but nothing quite compares to Vincent. He's more than your average wild child: he kicks chairs, doesn't let other kids answer questions, and insists on sitting in his chair the wrong way...and he is the reason I'm staying in Korea.

Over the past 3 months I have considered quiting my job every day. All this has culminated with me actually quiting my job last Wednesday. Much to my regret I was convicted about quiting my job, because I'm not a wiener, and told my boss today that I want to unquit. I had a special meeting with the owner of my hagwon and she told me she was unhappy with me, to say the least,...for quiting and then unquitting to which I told her that I understand. 

When I thought about quiting I was being selfish and only thinking about myself and what's best for me. Of course everyone is selfish, you're being selfish by taking time to read my blog and not doing the one hundred other things that you need to do, hopefully loving people is one of those thing. The question is when does doing something turn from being selfishness to selflessness, the quality that everyone should be trying to obtain. 

When I figured out that there were other things at play in the picture I was convicted of my selfishness and told my boss that I had changed my mind. I've changed my mind a lot. And then I've changed my mind again. But never face to face with my bosses. There were loads of other things that came into the picture but I'd like to break down all the other minutia to one simple thing: Vincent. 

Homeboy is the jam for real. When I thought about leaving Korea I was thinking about the no talent ass clown that would be teaching him after me and I couldn't think about letting someone teach him that might not love him, which is very easy to do. I was also sad about not seeing him grow up for the next 9 months. Is this what it feels like being a father? 

This is a typical excerpt of my classes with Vincent:

Page: Does anyone know why Henry was scared Mudge had to go to the Vet?

Page: yes...Vincent?

Vincent: Your face is crazy.

Of course when I call on Vincent I'm not sure if he's going to give me the right answer, which he always knows, or the 'your face is crazy' response which is his, and now mine, personal favorite. I'm still trying to figure out if my face IS crazy. I'm white and everyone else is not white. To make fun of white people Korean kids use their fingers and open their eyes wide like white people...much like we did with Asians in the opposite way.  

There are a few special things that I love about Vincent. Vincents handwriting is sub-par, but he doesn't care. Vincent is usually not in his chair, which drives me crazy, but he can't help. Vincent is in love with a girl in our class named Isabelle and he sometimes hits her and tells on her...not because he's trying to flirt with her but rather because he doesn't give a F#@k. He often runs up to the front and does flying kicks in the air trying to slam whatever is in his way. He leaves the room without asking. He reads his books upside down. He steals the fake incentive money that I have in my basket and gives it back just to show me who's boss.  He's boss. 

This description doesn't give him justice but Vincent doesn't do anything trying to gain approval, he just does whatever he wants. The main reason that I respect Vincent is because he just knows who he is...AND HE'S 8 YEARS OLD. I know you don't believe me but you have to believe me. He marches to the beat of his own whistle. And whistles don't even carry a beat. I guess you could say that Vincent is my favorite student...but he deserves to be because he's no one else's. love. war. 

Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."

Things to think about:
-your make-up you wear. 
-the gold standard

Things to read:

Sunday, November 21, 2010

You're Not Great Because Your Goal is Sucky People

On a day like today all one can do is blog. I've spend time in my room; my lonely, wood-floored, haven from blistering winds, beautiful Korean women, and the outside world. When I'm in my room all I do is think. I'm a thinking time bomb. I'm currently mercifulness plowing through Andre Agassi's autobiography thinking of my autobiography; sad that no one will ever write a biography about me. Out of all the possible things in the world, someone writing a biography of your life has to be the third most humbling experiences.

Jeremy Current has a song he wrote after his girlfriend was murdered titled Violet Boutique. The line that sticks in my brain, makes my gut grimace, and soul yearn: "I knew someday you'd dry up but  I can't stop pouring water in your cup."

I feel as if my girlfriend has been murdered and I haven't had a girlfriend in six years. The second most humbling experience has to be someone saying they'll marry you and staying with you for life.

I can't stop pouring water in your cup.

Agony, a feeling I have no right to sympathize with. Agony, an emotion that comes daily to my calcium non-deficient bones. I'm in agony for wisdom. I'm in agony for love.  I'm in agony for understanding...and I don't understand. I'm not trying to understand the deeper meanings of life, having graduated from that thinking long ago, but rather the trivial things of life.  Once one thinks for hours on end all one can do is think some more. Andre's dad hates thinking because he says that it keeps people from doing.

Maybe I'm not a doer, I think to myself, running through the small list of accomplishments in my life.  Some worth noting, some personal gold medals snatched out of the hands of millions of other competitors. But my accomplishments are like snotty loogies spit in my face as I look at my future.  Ones accomplishments are only as good as who you're comparing yourself to. I am currently comparing myself to Andre. Once number one in the world.

I change the song. Tired of wanting to cry. Not tears of sadness but tears of agony. What's the agony. I don't know.

"So why did you come to Korea?" She asks me as we stand waiting on separate taxis. She a Korean trying to understand me and gauging me with other Americans she's met; the ones that hang out in Itaewon. I'm an American trying to gauge myself. Wonderfully beautiful and unbearingly attractive I tell her I don't know.

I don't know. I don't know. I feel like I could repeat this a million times to anyone who asks me any questions about anything.  I said something about culture or some other bullshit that I didn't know why I was saying. I pride myself in my ability to think fast. I can't think that fast...we were waiting on taxis and taxis in Seoul are like ignorant people in America. She ignored a couple free taxis and let them pass much like I ignore ignorant Americans and let them pass.

I rest on Solomons wisdom in my daily agony:
Enjoy life with your wife, whom you love, all the days of this meaningless life that God has given you under the sun--all your meaningless days. For this is your lot in life and in your toilsome labor under the sun.

 The main reason I can't enjoy life is that I don't have a wife whom to love all the days of this meaningless life.

I agree with Jesus in my glorious loneliness:
For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it.

What's next. I don't know. All I know is I want to be great and I want to do this with my wife. This looks different for a believer but I still can't understand why. love. war.

Things to think about:
-not thinking

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

People From All Over the World Reading the Same Crappy Thing...MY BLOG

Technology now a days allows for a lot of things that the past wouldn't of allowed. For instance...wasting hours gazing into other people's lives through countless photos of them and their friends that they make available to others for that specific purpose. Or even simple , extraordinarily things like using a plastic card anywhere you are when you want to buy something. (Something you take for granted).

Something else technology has enabled me to do is see the people that come to my blog and the things they search to find it.  Recently someone that came upon it searched for this and I thought it was funny enough to share with you:

"how to write a apology letter for something you didn't do to a gym teacher"

It brought her to this blogpost. Of course this begs the questions...What does the gym teaching think this chick did? (I'm assuming she's a chick) The next question is did my blog help her out? It probably didn't because most the people that come to my blog from searches don't read the whole thing. (I can see that too) But I still think it's very very funny. Here are some other things that people have searched that have come up on my blog...all funny but not as funny as that gym teacher apology letter crap...

-I like the way she smokes her cigarettes
-I've told someones secrets to people, how do I get them to not say to anyone
-Should you keep secrets from people. bible
-Sometimes I'd rather build a fire than a relationship

The last one is probably my favorite...because sometimes I'd rather build a fire than a relationship...but in Seoul you can't build fires. love. war.

Things to think about:
-how is life in america different from other places
-does smoking cigarettes really make people mad
-why does making a profit for oneself considered so bad

Things to watch:

Monday, November 8, 2010

Korean Eyes and Knives that Make them Beautiful

People from the west don't really understand what it's like being a Korean girl. Which is understandable since you aren't a Korean girl. And since you're from the west, you fit nicely into the category of people that I'm talking about. Do you have any Asian friends? Next time you're hanging out with them, look closely at their eyes without making them feel uncomfortable. If you're Asian and reading this, look in a mirror.

It wasn't until I flew to Seoul and started conversing with some women with Korean eyes that I realized that they don't like them. And almost everyone here, I use the term everyone very loosely, gets eye surgery; they want to look more western. Not all of them want to look more western. Of course there are the few that just want to look more beautiful. You know Milan...Pocahontas. Thanks Disney.

My coworker Donna, who is a very pretty woman, told me that she wants to get eye surgery to be more beautiful. I was shocked. Seriously. I don't get shocked that often. She is beautiful. Already. And she is married already. WHAT? Maybe her husband should tell her that she's more beautiful. I guess that's another issue. Maybe not.

To better understand what I'm talking about look at this...
The Asian eyelid

They want to get bigger eyes. I told Donna that there are a lot of woman in America with big eyes who are ugly. There are also thousands of beautiful Korean girls that haven't gotten surgery with normal Korean eyes, I suppose.
Apparently Korean women don't have an eyelid...or they do and we have two. We being white people. All the Korean Pop stars...Kpop...get eye surgery to look more beautiful. I think the Kpop stars are beautiful and would love to meet one or even marry one...but I didn't know it was because they got surgery. They became drastically less desirable then I found out their eyes weren't natural but rather tampered with.

Healthy guys think that fake boobs look really stupid and not beautiful. Healthy guys like natural to unnatural. Perverted guys prefer something fake. Those are the guys that you shouldn't be worrying about. They suck. They are the guys that if you married, you would always be wondering why they didn't think you were beautiful. They aren't happy with themselves and use porn as the standard for all women. I can be included in the not so righteous group of perverted guys. Most of us can. And like a lot of us, we're not happy about it...For I've looked at porn and even have found myself comparing woman to the gross indecency that it exposes. But unlike the fads of our time I choose to pursue something greater than that. 

Would Donna be prettier with bigger eyes? Would I look better if I wasn't balding? Would everyone look better if they were perfect? Probably. Then the question arises; is physical beauty all that matters? And the answer is certainly yes...if you're after physical beauty.

But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

And it's obvious that what the Lord thinks of you is more important than what any man thinks about you. He created you and loves you. love. war.

Things to listen to:
4th Avenue Jones

Things to think about:
-When things are cheaper it makes everything better save adopting Children
-lighters and smoking: cigarettes, pipes, and cigars

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

It's Not the 'Twelve Step' but it's Close

When I was younger, I had what some people like to call nervous energy.Sometimes, my parents would tell me to go run around the house...and I did, my little legs carrying me as fast as they could. I was as fast as a whip. In my 5th grade year, I held the record for the mile run: 6:19, if my memory serves. Not bad for a scrawny 10 year-old. Mr.Shawnburg said I tied two other guys but I was obviously way ahead of them. Is it really that hard to be a gym teacher?

Anyway, I have no idea where this energy came from. I mean, obviously it came from God, but I don't know why he so decided to bless me, of all people, with it. People ask me to not put my feet on their chairs because they get annoyed with the shaking. When people talk about being a night person or a day person, I tell them that I'm both...because I am. People even asked me if I had A.D.D. and I told them no, why? Did you eat paint chips when you were younger?

I've realized one amazing thing while teaching that has changed this once scrawny, now slightly bigger, guy’s life.  I acted the same, when I when I was younger as the kids that I don't like in class act, because they are so crazy, and have so much energy. (Granted a lot of the kids might get all their energy from sweets that their parents so ignorantly bestow into their little grubby fingers. My energy was much more pure and untainted, but still.)

Step one: Realize you were the problem.

Coming to the realization that I was such a problem to have in class I so decided to write the teachers who were bless enough to have me in the past and apologize to them for my behavior, or lack there of. The email went something to the effect of this:

Step two: Correct your wrongs by very impersonal email apology letter.

Dear [teacher],

I don't know if you remember me but I just wanted to write you a letter and tell you that I'm an English teacher now in Seoul and totally understand how hard it is to teach [Korean] kids who suck and don't behave, and wanted to apologize for my sucky behavior in your class. I regret it and I'm sorry. love. war.

% Page

This is just one of the replies that I've received back from one of my teachers, who for some reason has a disgustingly sick memory. My gut-busting, harassingly witty comments are in bold green.

"Page! Yes, I remember you, you were in my 10th grade English Honors ( know it) class in Mr. Sapp's room in the 600 building (WHAT!?!!?). I used to let you pace the back of the room so that you
would be moving and could concentrate. (I don't even remember thisYou were doing t-shirts for awhile, I remember. (Not just tee-shirts Stephanie

I am doing well...We are loving life! I am quite proud of you for what you are doing! I always told you that once you learned to focus that energy you would touch lives. (I'm not really touching anything) Congratulations! (This job was a piece of cake to get)

Stephanie Wallace, MA
National Board Certified Teacher"

Step three: Pray your previous teachers that you can't get a hold of are retired.

The main teacher that I wanted to write an apology note to is named Mrs. Huffman. I talked as much as Malibu Barbie would, if she was alive, in that class. I couldn't find the Huff on my high school's website. I pray she's retired and not dead.  

Step four: Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

I think all 3 step programs, 12 step programs, any training programs, and all weight lose programs should always end with Krispy Kreme doughnuts. There's no better reward for the disciplined than hot and fresh! love. war. 

p.s. The picture is my man Greg running the Kirspy Kreme challenge in Raleigh, NC. 

Things to think about:

-Obama and his inexperience
-Page and his inexperience

Things to read:

Thursday, October 7, 2010 the Act of Providing Sexual Services to Another Person in Return for Payment

Do you know what it’s like residing in the 3rd most populous city in the world? I'm going to say something that might shock you: but it's nothing like living in the mountains save the smell of piss; which, oddly enough, is more prevalent in the this city than I thought it'd be. It's around this pleasant time of year that I start to drastically love America. And, since I'm not in America, this equates to a little bit of home sickness.

No this post isn't about nostalgia, but fall is by far the most
nostalgic season of the year. It's almost impossible to get nostalgic in the summer, spring, or winter like in the fall; you can believe me...I'm the king of nostalgia.

Walking around Seoul is a sight to behold. If I was good at painting pictures with words and liked repeating myself I'd do that right now. And since I have no pictures and you can access my previous posts you'll just have to envisage it.

What is it like walking around where you live? Usually to get out of their boring existence, the people that I rub shoulders with think it's the top of the world to go to the section of Seoul that is called Itaewon.

Itaewon is where Korean girls go who want to find American men to date, 
and where American guys go to find Korean girls to date. 

There's also another difference between Itaewon and the mountains where I’m from. Itaewon is a place our brothers in the American military go to have sex with sex slaves.

What. the. hell.

Wikipedia describes Itaewon like this and I quote: "Prostitution has long been visible in Itaewon. Although efforts to crack down...have reduced the visibility of the trade, brothels still exist and are quite easy to find."

I wish I was brilliant enough to make this post funny and witted. I wish I had the capability of writing a sarcastically magnificent blog post that would encourage every living and breathing soul who reads it to change their actions and stop wasting money on fancy shoes,
on spending hours drinking alcohol at their local bar, on eating out for countless meals, and on their own happiness. I know that I don't. But it's a good thing I'm not talking to them...

I'm talking to you.

Do you ever get frustrated with spending money to indulge in your own happiness? Do you ever stop to think what you're spending your money on?
While walking around Itaewon for the first time two weeks ago, I saw women ready to give men anything they desire. I saw women invite me into their brothels. I know not whether they are slaves in the industry, tricked to coming to Seoul in the hopes of a better life, or if they are merely women who never had a good father to protect them.

Whichever one, needlessly drinking and having fun in a bar in Itaewon while 50 feet away a Filipino girl lies under the panting, sweating body of an American militant, closing her eyes waiting for the pain of his forceful penis to end and him to finish, is a feeling that sits foul in my bowels. And since I have a problem with having a good time while woman are forced to have sex with military men I'm not going to be spending money on anything that isn't necessary.

No little girl ever dreams of becoming a prostitute when she's young.

"Daddy, daddy you know what I want to be when I grow up, a whore."

I'm not condemning your actions. You just didn't know. I didn't either. I'm the chief sinner. I have 10 grand of credit card debt. It's time to start being responsible. I am. Would you like to join me? 

Things to think about:
-Getting married
-selling some things you don't need
-Taking action, living simply, and donating your money instead of indulging in your and my selfishness.

Things to listen to:
-your heart

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

The World Could Use One Less Teacher: Me

After joyously arriving in a Seoul, Korea a month ago, and now living here for a month, my eyes have been opened to an awful realization:

I don't like teaching English.

My new friend Joe told me that the problem with me is that I always think I'm right. And, while I love Joe and have only known him a few weeks, I can tell you that he is wrong in thinking that I think that I'm always right

For instance, this afternoon I bought dish-washing soap at the local market and when I went home to wash my dishes I realized that the smell on the soap is an intoxicatingly disgusting mix of citrus fruit that apparently some Korean tycoon came up with to drive his wife out of the house.  So, instead of doing my dishes, I followed the magnate's orders. I closed the cap, packed my pockets full of useful gadgets, and cursed myself for making a wrong decision and headed out to the PC baung to write this entry.

Another wrong decision that I've made recently was getting on a plane and flying to Prague, then proceeding to Seoul to teach English to little Koreans. Sometime in the depressed 25 years of my life, I thought I'd enjoy teaching. And sometime else in my vain 25 years of living, I thought I'd enjoy teaching English. And yet sometime else in my glorious existence,  I thought I'd like teaching English to little Korean kids. 

It's not the fact that all the kids can't say my name correctly and pronounce it Pagey (making me feel like less of a man every day).  
It isn't having to teach 11 different classes every other day of the week. . 
It isn't having a full time job, 
It isn't the cameras in every room watching my every move. 
It isn't my loving boss who told me yesterday that I have a bad memory, or my coworkers who I've been told I'm lucky to have. 
It isn't even that I have to look at Asians 40 hours a week; which is actually a perk. 

I just don't like teaching. (and I'm not that good at it)

I'm not complaining or whining or whimpering or whatever it is you think I'm doing. I'm not looking for condolences or patronages or pilgrimages or anything of the sort. I don't want your money or your sadness or your advice. Hell, I just thought you should know what's going on with me here in Korea. 

So with 1 month down and 11 more months of this teaching thing left, I'm digging my trench and preparing for a long battle with stinking and trench foot.  I'm praying that somehow God shows me how to be a better teacher. I'm also praying that when I go home, my nostril palate will have grown to love the citrus hell flowing into my sink. If not, I'm going to be eating Ramin (not to be confused with Ramen) in some dirty bowls tonight. 

"Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen." Ephesians 4:29

Things to think about:
-Koreans use umbrellas on the regular
-Wisdom can be learned

Things I'm reading:
-The Confederacy of Dunces
-The Unbearable Lightness of Being
-The book of I Corinthians

Things to listen to: 

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

I'm Headed to 'Hooker Hill', Maybe I'll Score Him a Prostitute

From my ten story apartment, I can see all of least the part of Seoul you can see from a ten story apartment facing one direction. The vast array of buildings lay beautifully thrown into a grotesque garden; each building a flower. The designer of the buildings, unlike the designer of flowers, had not beauty in mind but rather function when his erections were manifested. The function obviously people, the people obviously living. As I come to a close on the last inhale of my cigarette, I stare at all the lights, as my blind is unable to perform its job at keep out the blinking neon, like a security guard trying to contain a Bieber mob.  

In the distance, red crosses held high up in the sky; like a pope holding the rosary high above his head demanding penance. These crosses, perhaps a banner for weary souls, signify the many 'Christian' churches laid out about the city.

I change posture at my desk in the dark, drinking lukewarm, unfiltered tap-water from my sink, connected to the unfiltered city water supply, that not even the Koreans drink. I'm not Korean. Ten stories below and 200 yards away I see a hungry, small, maneless lion prowling the allies looking for its pride; however, it hunts alone. Fighting to stay alive in a city that doesn't love it, care for it, or even see it. 

My mind wanders like a vagabond to the lonely prostitutes giving hour after hour of unrequited sexual pleasure to the most needy of adulterous men leaving their wives who are fending for themselves, lonely at home, craving loyalty, looking after the kids that they both chose to bring into this polluted hell.  

I'm blessed to not be a prostitute. In front of me lies the future dreamers of the Korean world. Behind me the grotesque actions of people taking after the buildings they live in. Where is the hope, I wonder. What do women hope in as they endlessly give their bodies and soul to the lustful cravings of impotent, adulterous men? How long does it take to realize that the hope you put in riches is empty, like the tomb Jesus was laid in? 

Christianity calls for action and I, one of the soldiers in the war, am looking for the good fight. If you don't look at life as a war you're the person I'm fighting for. 

From my limited, perched perspective, I still see all of Seoul. A tiny America struggling to keep its honor in the wake of MTV and the next generation. My belly is hungry for more food; a rumbling that Ramen noodles hasn't been able to quench. My clock reads 0152 hrs in the neon red that every person in the modern world has grown boringly accustomed to depending on.  I know not how and I know not when (At this late hour it's hard to think) but somehow I'm going to help the women that don't wish to be prostitutes come to a life of hope, not in money, but in the good news of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. 

This Sunday I make my way to Hooker Hill. That's where they are. That's where I'm going to be. 

On the eve of my first payday I'm excited at the prospect of being able to help people like I've never been able to before. love. war. 

"In everything, therefore, treat people the same way you want them to treat you, because this summarizes the Law and the Prophets." Matthew 7:12

Things to think about:
-You believe in the emotional more than the spiritual
-Why does the White House look the same on two separate sides?
-If I love networking what is a job I can do?

Things to listen to:

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Its Walls Were Vast and Gorgeous but She Didn't Care

My father told me a story once. It involved him and my mom in their first few years of marriage. They were taking a road trip and my mom, raised a stick Mennonite, had an insatiable desire for books; she read and read. Even when they arrived at the Grand Canyon, my dad was out staring into the vast expanse o2 billion year old (get real) Vishnu Schist rock, while my mom was sitting in the car reading a book. 

Now, I can tell you that it wasn't due to my mom’s frequency to the Grand Canyon that dulled God's beauty for her, as if to say, “I know I've seen it a thousand times." (The feeling I got in Prague) But rather, from what I can gather, it was the beauty that my mom saw in the characters in her stories; whether they were love characters, hate characters, or somewhere-in-between characters.

He yelled "Birdie", a nickname for Roberta. (A name my mom would later loath, desiring to not sound so old and black) "get out of the car and come see this." As my mom did, begrudgingly or not I don’t know, she stood and looked for some seconds and said, "That's nice," as if she was merely looking at a boy giving up his chair for an older woman, or gazing at a child's picture placating then saying simply, "That's nice." She then turned and sat back in the car, back in her lee. 

I feel like my mom right now. I lie in bed reading a captivating book while all of Seoul is laid out before me ready to be punctured by my personality. But yet I don't move and keep reading. 

Have you ever heard the phrase..

"You don't change the culture, the culture changes you."

If I had to guess I would say my mom took that phrase and said something like...

"I don't care about the culture, I'll do what I like."

So today I make the same declaration. "It's not about culture, it's about who I am."  

Koreans tell (not all of them) white lies. I tell the truth. Koreans think (not all of them) that if you have facial hair, you're dirty. I don't shave. 

I can assure you that no matter where I live and for how long I live there, the culture won't change me and who I am. No matter where you go, being a Christian is being a Christian and culture has nothing to do with how you act. So please don't change who you are based on the people you're around. Unless they are helping you to become better. Cut the people out of your life that are encouraging you to be horrible. Keep the people in your life that need you to be strong for them. 

until next time...

나는 당신을 사랑 당신을 다시보고 싶어서 기다릴  없습니다.
(I love you and can't wait to see you again.) war. 

Things to listen to:

Things to think about:
-You need a significant other to be complete.
-The Far Side is the best comic strip ever.