And so it ends

This will be my last blog post.

There are certain situations in life that change your perspective so severely that it becomes quite difficult to even remember how you perceived life before.

The past few months have changed my life in ways that I am not, as of yet, fully aware.

Change is gradual, and change is fast. When you are faced with a choice you never thought you would be faced with in ten lifetimes, followed by making a conscientious decision that is violently contrary to the one you previously thought you would make, interesting things happen.

You become the choice and the choice becomes you. It is hard to distinguish between the two, as if you would want to. Black and white fade to grey…and then slowly fade back to white. I am blinded by logic. I am smothered by the inconsequentialness of my decisions. I am scared by how little fear I feel. I feel inspired by the pain of my decision.

I am neither arrogant enough to go as if this never happened or to ever seek any type of redemption, nor humble enough to retract my decision and give myself up for the sake of someone who was once a friend.

“I realize today that nothing in the world is more distasteful to a man than to take the path that leads to himself.” Hermann Hesse in Demian

I haven’t found out who I am completely yet. I’ve barely scratched the surface. But I’m a whole lot closer this month I was last, or the one before.

There’s darkness there. There’s light there. There’s fervent laughter and deep-seeded hatred and altruistic humility and extreme selfishness and burning passion and intense numbness and uncontrollable joy and life-defying sadness.

But it is all me.

I’ve spent the past 10 years of my life trying to find ways to fit into this world, and I made it a long way perfecting my façade.

I’m sure now that I’ve never been fully Nebraskan, or Christian, or Agnostic, or American, or even *my last name.* Instead all of those labels I have assumed over the years have been attempts towards a vain hope that one day the mask would finally match the man.

How many relationships have I destroyed or sabotaged because I couldn’t handle the pain of someone putting their trust into my ruse.

But the person that is finally emerging, the person beneath all the defenses I have set up for myself and others…that is the person I want to be.

And I’m thankful to the person who could see that.

So, I’m going to take some time away from the internetesphere and work on figuring out how to develop this person. I will be fighting for my life. Not against the possibility of death, but against mediocrity and stagnation.

So long friends.

“If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on”;

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings – nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man my son! 

If – Rudyard Kipling

Throwing people down the escalator and trying to figure out dating

There’re certain things about my personality and character that have changed over time: my looks, my religion, my clothing style, my thoughts about drinking, smoking, and drugs, etc.

But one thing has remained a constant…I…will…always…walk…fast.

My freshman year of college I was dating a girl who was perhaps a little taller than me and was about as long legged as she could be and remain normally proportionate. When we would walk around campus, our friends would comment how freakishly fast we walked.

I remember as a kid yelling at my parents and getting mind-blowingly angry because they wouldn’t keep up with me on afternoon walks.

Last year, while teaching high school, the style got the name: “ mylastname-er walk” for my tendency to get through a crowd at high speeds no matter who was in the way…except my principal!

So, when I heard that Korea was known for its “speedy Koreans” I thought I may have finally found a place where I fit it.

Sadly, no.

Koreans are indeed faster than Americans…but that just means that they are not chronically lazy and perpetual time-wasters. Being faster than American’s is not a big claim. It’s like being a smart kid on the short bus: no one is surprised.

I’m still the fastest person on the sidewalks. In the subways. Taking two stairs at a time…always. Life it too short to waste any time at all walking somewhere! I want to use my time enjoying my destination, not gawking at street vendors and cheap clothes salesmen.

Now in Seoul there is an unwritten rule that you stand on the right side of the escalator, and walk on the left.

It makes sense. There have been a very few times—usually when hung-over—that I’ve not wanted to walk up the entire incredibly long escalator ride and decided instead to stand on the right. But never…I repeat never…should a person stand on the left.

In my opinion, this is a jailable offense. (This is one of many reasons I would make a horrible dictator)

But, once I leave my cozy confines of Seoul and venture into the wild west of Korea….AKA Bucheon, people just don’t have that thought.

Here’s the deal folk…and I’ll end with this thought…ensuring that you can hold hands with your significant other in a non-awkward, 180 degree, situation is not a reason to stand beside him/her and keep me from climbing up (or god forbid down) the stairs.

Which provides a nice transition to my next topic: Girls.

The Psychology of Attractiveness

A couple of weeks ago Gandalf the Grey went back to the good ole US of A. School was calling…but I could feel his reluctance to leave. This is as much his home as America now.

Actually, truthfully speaking…I didn’t want him to leave for selfish reasons! This is a person who I know will be back and, providing the huge possibility I’m here then, will be a great friend.

But, my other best friend had just left, and so was Sir Gandalf. I was going to be a sad season for me of having to make actual friends.

One of Gandalf‘s missions while he was here, as he told to me, was to get me a girl so I would stay in Korea for the rest of my life.

This was coupled with the paradoxical and pertinent advice of: “Don’t look for a girl, meet a girl when you least expect it.”

Well, the mission failed while he was here. However, Sir Gandalf’s Wife: The Queen Bee decided to stay for a couple of months to prep for the GRE.

After my previously blogged about date (or whatever it was) fell though, The Queen Bee tried to set me up with one of her friends.

But, that particular friend is planning on quitting her job soon and moving to Mexico. As far as life plans so…that one is by far the most gangster I’ve heard yet.

I was impressed by her moxy, but knew that it didn’t quite fit with my plan of living in Korea.

Before he left Gandalf mentioned that The Queen Bee might be able to give me some life advice about Korea and dating that I might find useful.

Turns out, he was right. The Queen Bee was a psychology major and she is not shy. She gets directly to the point and isn’t afraid to ask hard questions.

So, I think she has taken on the hobby of a psychology project. The project is entitled (by me): “The project for the enbetterment of Eric so that he can find a good girl and live in Korea and be lifelong friends with the Gandalf-Bee Family”

Myself being a little bit of an overly self-contemplative attention whore…this was right down my alley.

It started out by a few direct comments:

1. After getting to know you I think you cannot leave this country. I don’t think you would be happy.
2. You get very nervous around women. You need to act yourself. You’re good enough the way you are, don’t try to be someone else.
3. I think women could control you easily. You need to watch for that.

Considering that these are three things that are incredibly true–and things that I tend to not like to admit–I decided to listen more.

Here where the philosophy developed. Here’s what I’m really here to talk about today.

The Philosophy of Fantasy

The question was direct, and a little shocking. “What’s you dating fantasy?”

Usually when someone talked about relationships and fantasy, they are referring to sex…that’s what was shocking about the question, but this wasn’t about sex.

This was an honest question, and one that I’d never really thought about before.

She continued: “Girls have fantasies all the time…And…If you can fit into that fantasy, you have the girl.”

I felt like I was getting a key to a door that has been a locked cage of questions to me before: Why do girls actually like guys? What makes one guy get the girl more than another? Why do I see so many ugly assholes with girlfriends?

So I asked the obvious question: “Well….then….what are girl’s fantasies?”

Then the perfect response…one you might except from a psychology major and someone married to a guy name Gandalf the Grey was this: “Well I guess that’s your homework. Think about what a girl’s fantasy is.”

Now, I have not been doing my homework. I still have no fucking clue. But, I’m at least one step closer that I was before…I know where the locked door is…I just have to find the key.

Instead, I’ve been focusing on a much more egotistical task…trying to decipher my own dating fantasy.

Her hypothesis was simple. It’s the same with guys. Guys have fantasies, and a girl simply just has to fit into his fantasy and she has the guy.

Truth. Truth. Truth.

History is strewn with stories and love and sex and money and destruction and The Wife of Bath.

It suddenly became super important to me to understand myself in this way so that I could be a smarter dater.

I started to dissect my past in light of this new piece of advice.

1. The date that was not a date. I was certain she was an amazing person…but when I analyzed it…the only real reason I was attracted to her was that she was a Civil Engineer. She could have been a horrible person and wrecked my life all because she was a Civil Engineer and that’s part of my fantasy.
2. The girl I liked before that, Sam-Gak-Kim-Bap was simple based on her dress style and slightly sarcastic/abrasive personality with the students.
   Now I find her to be a little overbearing and a bit irrational. Things I never saw before because I was blinded by my fantasy.
3. Before that it was a hair-style, before that a particular accent I liked, before that an attitude, a culture, a hobby…

As I continued to delve into my past I found out that…damn it…I do have a fantasy. And it’s pretty complex.

Every single one of these girls that I liked caught me off guard by having just a small part of my fantasy. They didn’t have to use sex, they didn’t have to flash money, they didn’t have to use any of the obvious super-powerful fantasies…they hooked me with the small ones.

This takes back to the point that I can be controlled easily by women.

The Queen Bee told me about how she and Gandalf got together. The reason the meeting was a hit, and by logical deduction the reason they are happily married now, is because he knew about her favorite pianist.

That’s it. That was the difference that night between “Wow this is a seriously amazing person” and “Well, that was an okay night”.

There’s no difference in the person because of that fact. There’s nothing about that little fact that makes either one of them better or worse husband/wife material. But that was the door that let them find it.

It’s all about fantasy.

And believe it or not, I’ve found it harder to figure out than I expected. While out last weekend at Hongdae Park, The Queen Bee asked me to point out any girls that I thought were “my style.”

It was harder than I thought. I’m not that guy. Conservative upbringing, not wanting to be “that guy”, whatever it was, I never was the “Damn, she’s hot” guy.

But…for the sake of science…I guess I’ll oblige.

I found a few girls. Not many. A lot were on the borderline or “I’m not sure” side. However, my guess–make that previous experience fact—is that if a lot of the “borderline” girls sat down to have a conversation with me I would find something that would trigger my fantasy and I would find them super attractive.

So…in conclusion…what’s do I learn from this?

Two things (damn it I do love lists)

1. I have a fantasy that drives my attractions. The difference between me liking a girl or not is whether or not she fits into a part of my fantasy. This is shown greatly by how quickly non-Korean girls have dropped of my radar. It has little to do with attractiveness—although that is a factor—and a lot to do with the fact that I think I’m stuck here mentally…and my fantasy right now is to live here…for a very long time.
2. A girl can OWN me if she gets me by a fantasy without me knowing it. I have begun to realize how many times this has happened to me in the past. I get caught on one part of my fantasy, and I start to rationalize the rest. And ignore the bad. All because of a fantasy. For me to fight that power, I have to know my fantasy.

So…I guess that’s where we’re at. I have another way to evaluate girls…the fantasy scale. And I need to figure out my fantasy so I can enjoy it…and defend myself from it.

Anyways, I sure didn’t mean to write a 2000 word essay on the subject…but there you go: fantasy is a power to be enjoyed and feared.

-HuskEric

Summer Club Tour…Week 1: M2

Well what started out as a random idea has fruitionized : A tour of the Seoul Korean club scene for 2 months. Who knows, maybe I’ll even keep it up after that.

Let’s give some history to start out. For the past two months I have been going to VERA club in Hongdae.

I like that club a lot. I feel very comfortable there. I have friends there. It’s like a weekend home.

So, when my friend Dowon suggested that we go to other clubs, I was a little apprehensive. Change is…. well change. It’s a risk.

When you’re plopping down $20+ for an entrance fee, you never know what you’re going to get.

But when she suggested that I blog about it, I suddenly got more interested and thought it might be the re-kickstart I need to write again.

So, here it is, my unfiltered opinion about a few clubs in Seoul.

Let’s start off with the ground rules.

1. I’m no expert. I didn’t really like clubs until about 4 months ago. But now I really like them.
   
2. I like electronic style dance. Hip-hop and top 40 are okay to listen to, but unless it’s heavily mixed with electronic beat, it’s kinda boring to dance to.
   
3. I’m biased. I like VERA. I will probably compare each club to VERA in ways that are good or bad.
   

So, without further ado, let get started.

About the Club:

M2 is nestled behind the main streets of Hongdae slightly away from the hustle and bustle of the packed main drag.

Don’t let this fool you. Even though it is the only real business on the little side street it is on, people will be lining up to get in.

On a Saturday night around midnight the line stretches around the corner.

(For maps and directions here is their website http://www.ohoo.net/)

The fee is a little steep. For guys it 25,000 for girls its 20,000 and it includes a free 5,000 drink coupon.

Don’t be a fool. If you’re too drunk. Or angry. Or…really anything, they will say no go and you can get in for the night. Don’t try to talk your way out of it, once their mind is set, they won’t change it.

The Night:

The night started around 10.

Actually that’s a lie…and that was the problem. My Korean class decided to drunk together with the teachers after class.

So, my night had started at 4pm. I wasn’t drunk at all, but I already felt a little tired when I showed up to Hongdae.

After quickly failing the “I wonder if my friends will know that I’ve been drinking” test in 2 seconds flat, I did what any logical person would do…pump my body full of caffeine and bull testicle extract!

We felt it was a little early to go to the club, so we went to Hongdae playground for a little while.

I haven’t been there is such a long time. It’s amazing how my feeling change over time. I remember it being one of the most amazing places in the world in my mind. It’s still pretty amazing, but a bit of the luster is gone.

It’s amazing how things can change in a few months’ time.

But, Joon was there from last summer. Now, for a little plug here for his business. He runs a delivery bar in the park. You want a drink? He will mix it there and deliver it to you wherever you are in the park.

Vodka drinks 3000. Jager bombs 5000. All good taste and good service.

After reminiscing a bit about last summer, and having a moment of sadness that Andrew went back to the US, we took a picture.

I’ll have to stop back by there before any Hongdae clubs next time and support his business.

On to M2.

The Club Experience

We showed up at M2 and got through the gate with no problem. When we got to the main area there were already a lot of people there. Not completely packed, but very comfortable.

The music was amazing.

Club VERA usually has good music, and then the music gets amazing around the 2:00am DJ change.

But this music was amazing throughout. The DJ was into it. The crowd was into it. Everyone was having a good time.

The thing that really set M2 apart for me was the lights. Lights and images really make a club atmosphere, almost as much as the music does, and M2 had that down.

It was super fun for a while then the experience started to go downhill.

The only culprit…way too many people and an inefficient dance floor design.

When you are dancing, when you are in the moment, when you are feeling the music, sometimes the littlest thing can take you out or your groove.

I want a dance club. Not a mosh pit. Not a subway car.

Around 1-2 am the place simply got too crowded.

Now, VERA is a rectangle. When it get crowed rectangles are good, there’s a logical place for people to be moving (the edges) and there is a logical place for people to be dancing (the middle).

But, M2 is more like a circle…with some tables awkwardly placed in what should probably be the dance floor; entrances to the VIP area scattered about the edges, and a few other small things that just makes moving difficult.

I found that people were always passing and trying to push by from all different directions and there was no way to avoid it such as “move to the center.”

For another hour or so we danced and enjoyed the scene and the amazing music and lights.

Eventually, the crowdedness got so we could hardly even move out feet and our hands had no place to go.

In my book, bobbing around like armless buoys in a sea of sweat is not my style. I would much prefer moving all my body parts in a sea of sweat.

When the person to my right dropped his beer bottle on the floor and it shattered, I took that as our cue to leave.

Overall summary.

I think this weekend was more crowded than normal. It’s rainy season here and this was the only night Saturday in weeks.

M2 is a great club. I little expensive, and the people aren’t as friendly in my opinion as at VERA, but the pure club atmosphere is awesome.

Great music.

Great lights.

Next week it’s another club and more dancing!

-HuskEric

Well..so there you have it

Recently I’ve become a picky mofo when it comes to women.

Not in the terms of a rockin bod, or the perfect legs, or the shape of your eyes, but in terms of personality, vibe, and “looks aura.”

I’ve come to find that Korean girls are super super specific about what is attractive.

A conversation recently went like this:

Girl: “Well, do think I’m pretty, but I think I’m attractive.”

Me: “Well…what does that mean? What does ‘pretty’ mean?”

Girl: “Well, a high nose, wide eyes, double eyelids, a V-shape face, the right distance between your eyes and the bridge of your nose, white skin, no blemishes…”

She went on to describe more things in detail of what actually defines being pretty.

This girl was super attractive, but because of these arbitrarily/culturally defined rules, she was quite certain that she was not pretty.

But…I’m not here to talk about women…I’m here to talk about one woman and my date.

It was not.

…a date that is.

After nearly two weeks of texting, mild flirting, etc…when we met I had a few realizations.

These realizations happened at roughly the same time…but for the sake of literary dramaticicity, I’ll make it sequential.

First realization: I had a feeling that this girl was something special before we met. I found that to be still the case after. In fact, I found that the more I learned about her…the more it was the case.

She’s an Engineering major. The loves math. The tutors high school kids in math on the side. She likes mountain climbing. She likes buildings and roads and bridges (I mean seriously…that’s the topper for me). She’s outgoing. Jokes a lot. Sarcastic. Friendly. She likes chicken and beer. A conservative personality.

The more we talked the more I liked her.

However, concurrently I began to realize the second thing:

This girl wants to practice English with me, not date me. Evidently she is quite bad a giving off clues…or I’m bad at getting them.

Probably the second one.

We’re having fun. Talking a lot. Drinking beer. Eating chicken.

She’s asking me questions. Some are light. Some are personal. I ask her the same.

She asks me if I’ve ever been on a blind date in Korea. I say no.

She then asks me if she can set me up with her friend.

uhhhhh……………………………….

………………………………………….

From that point on we still had fun, but it was just….different.

I guess I should have figured. She’s moving to New York in two months, when she first told me I thought it was in a year.

So….well there you have it.

My real frustration is my feeling about this the day after.

I’ve liked 3 girls in Korea. Not seen and said “wow” or seen and said “here’s a girl I would like to date” but actually liked.

The other two I didn’t even try with because I’m a bit of a pussy.

But this girl was by far the best. Maybe not the most attractive of the three to an outside observer. But in my mind a clear winner.

…and this.

What’s a guy to do. It’s a good weekend for a vacation…and guess what! I get one.

Daegu here we come.

-HuskEric

Call me a fool, but I’m downright giddy

It’s 2:ooam. I have to get up in 4.5 hours.

I almost fell asleep about an hour ago…but then it was one thought…and then another…and I was awake.

See friend, tonight is the night before my first date in Korea. And I have no idea what to expect.

It happened out of chance. There was a Bar-B-Q. I was in the area, and was going to meet another friend later, and I decided to stop by.

It’s $20 for a cup and you get beer and food all night. Had I been staying all night, it would have been a deal…but I wasn’t.

It was a rip off, but in all honesty I was going to be buying several $10 drinks at the club later anyways. So, in perspective…it was still a deal.

I sat down. I met people. I sat down at other places. I met people. Etc. Etc.

About an hour in, I sit down and there is a few guys and girls sitting around. I introduce myself to the table. I ask them a few questions about what they do, where they live etc.

One girl is cute. But she’s sitting next to another guy. They seem friendly. They go to the same college. I assume they are together. She’s a Civil Engineering major. I make a quick mental note about how awesome that is, but quickly move on.

I’m not here to meet anyone. I have to go soon. She’s taken. No loss.

Everyone at the table is pretty fun. I choose this table in particular for it’s prevalence of Korean people.

I have no problem meeting and befriending Koreans in a mostly Korean environment. But at a meeting like this I’m still not sure what part to play.

I don’t want to practice my Korean because I don’t want to be “that guy” who’s trying to show off and outdo the other foreigners. That’s never my goal. But, I’m not really too interested in making life long foreign friends that might leave soon either.

So, up until this point I’m just quietly drinking and commenting where appropriate.

At some point it’s only Koreans at the table. They start speaking Korean with a little bit of English, so I start speaking English with a little bit of Korean.

They are a bit surprised and the conversation turns towards me.

I truly dislike this part of the conversation, because it’s always the same, and it’s awkward as hell. I’ve been here 9 months and have studied Korean every chance I get. The result, my pronunciation, while still bad, is better than most foreigners, and I can say what I know pretty confidently…

…but I don’t know that much. That leads to a flurry of awkward, undeserved compliments and expectations that are way to high for me. They start speaking faster…and I get lost.

I’ve learned to turn this around by simply over-complimenting them…and asking them all sorts of questions. That keeps me talking less, them talking more, and I can keep nodding, agreeing, laughing at appropriate times, and then ask another question.

Soon I’m back to a comfortable, more basic, place and I’m conversing at a slow and steady past in Korean.

…anyways back to the story.

At some point in the night I realize that the aforementioned girl is in fact single. But, I’m still not there to meet anyone so I don’t think anything of it.

Then, at some point in the night, I realize that she is talking to her friend about me.

At this point I start taking a little more notice.

Then, at some point in the night, she shyly gives me her phone. I put my number in, save it, and call myself.

Then, at some point in the night, I look over to realize that we are sitting across from each other and no one else is at the table.

I’ve had just enough beer to give me a little confidence, so I move, sit next to her, and talk…about something. I have absolutely no idea about what.

During the conversation she keeps making these awkward comments that I have learned is a quite adorable form of Korean flirting.

“you uh…*nervous laugh* … have a big nose”

While this can be considered an insult in America, they are actually referring to your bridge and is, evidently, SUPER important for attractiveness. Before coming here I had no idea. Other attributes include a double eyelid, and pale lifeless skin. (for those wondering…I’ve always had the pale, lifeless skin in the box).

“you, uh…have a skinny face”

This one is a surprise to me. I’m kinda a fat face. I mean. Granted. My stomach is kinda big. If I was a Korean male, and was this this fat, my face would be huge. I don’t know why this is…but it’s true. I’m not sure why this was a compliment…but I decided to take it in context and go with it.

Soon, everyone comes back. We all have a drink. But it’s my time to go. I have to meet another friend.

…………………….

Walking to the bus stop I suddenly realize that I’m being attacked by some weird emotions. What the hell.

I can’t put my finger on it. But I just suddenly realized that…wow…I think that girl was a seriously awesome person.

An…unexpectedly awesome person.

I decide on the bus to text her. I send her a text in Korean. My initial intention was to send the equivalent to “It was nice to meet you. Be sure to add me on cyworld, maybe I’ll see you later. haha” …

…but as I was the bus hit a bump and I accidentally sent “It was nice to meet you. ㄹㄹ” I freaked out for a minute hoping “ㄹㄹ” wasn’t some sort of ….weird…something…and then I started laughing.

Unlike other accidental prematurities, this one was  probably better off!

Her reply: “Good to meet you too^^ I really hope to see you again.”

Righteous.

Forward to Wednesday. I wake up. It’s been 4 days. I figure…what’s it going to hurt. I send a text about…what else…the weather!

I’ve never claimed to be smooth.

Actually I have…but I only claimed it to make the people around me laugh.

…Because it’s pretty funny.

…Because I’m not.

I wait.

I’m getting kinda upset with myself how much I actually want her to text back.

It’s weird.

Her reply: “The weather is good. How are you?”

My reply: “Good. Just working. You know…”

I’m in awe of my smooth texting skills. I did always need more black friends growing up.

Her reply: “Do you…uh…maybe want to meet me sometime? I would like to see you again.”

After taking a minute to get super excited…then mentally slap myself in the face for being a retard…then tell myself what the hell I’m in Korea where men wear their hearts on their sleeves all the time…then realize that I’m not Korean…then get a little sad…then excited again…then slap myself a again for being a retard…I finally text back.

Long story short. I’m going on a date tomorrow.

It could be a bust. It could suck.

I bought a new set of clothes this weekend to prepare. Then I wore them today. Then I realized that I think I’ll be more comfortable in my old set. But then I realized that I like the new jeans better…and maybe the shoes…and maybe the undershirt.

It could suck. It will probably be a let down.

But then I just spent thirty minutes planning a good second or third date. A picnic on my room with a 18th story view of the city. I got a little too dreamy for my general liking.

But it will probably suck. It will probably be a let down.

I mean I don’t even know if I want to date anyone right now. I love being single. I really really do. But who am I kidding. I would trade it all for a good girl. She seems like a good girl.

But it could be a bust. It’ll probably suck.

I mean she is smart. We have texted quite a bit these past few days. My completely premature analysis is that she’s a good student, funny, a bit mischievous, likes to drink a bit, and is responsible.

But…in all reality…it’ll probably be a let down.

Anyways. I’m going to try to snap out of my psychosis, try to find my balls somewhere in this apartment so I can wear them a few more times before trading them in…and hit the sack.

Wish me luck!

-HuskEric

Dude….seriously?

This past weekend was seriously amazing! Along with Gandalf the Grey, The Queen Bee, and one of The Queen Bee’s friend, we went to the friends parents house near Asan.

It is their retirement house, they built it, and it is practically a pension. It was beautiful.

The master bedroom is traditional style with walls similar to adobe. The rest of the house is modern, but with a country feel.

They even have a personal noraebang upstairs.

It was a super relaxing weekend. It’s in the woods, on a hill, surrounded with rice patties and small fields inset into the mountainside.

It honestly felt like going to visit my parents in TN…without the stress that comes from visiting parents. It was out in nature. No cellphone service. No computer. Just pure, raw, Korea. It felt wonderful.

That is surely the Korean dream…to be able to one day; after acquiring a lifetime of wealth, fun, and overstimulation; be able to escape the rat-race.

But…

…after I got home I felt a feeling I haven’t had since about two weeks after I came: I just wanted to sit down and cry. I was seriously depressed.

At first I thought it was because I was back in the city…but that’s not it. I love living here and although the country is SO nice to visit, I couldn’t live there at this point in my life.

After eating, walking around, and deciding to take my emo ass to the PC bang to write a blog I think I have it pinpointed.

Why Eric is depressed, a three-point egotistical adventure.

(PS. If you’re not a fan of my introspective ramblings…stop now…you’ve been warned.)

Point 1: My apartment is dirty.

I absolutely hate that. And it makes me feel a little down every time it happens. I seriously need to hire a house cleaner because I simply don’t have time to do it.

But this is something that I can fix today, which I will. But alone it’s not enough to make me depressed. Which brings me to point 2.

Point 2: I’m a man without a country.

I spent the entire weekend surrounded by the Korean language. Everyone there with the exception of Gandolf the Greyand myself were Korean, so mainly Korean was spoken. It’s surprising how my understanding is getting better, and yet how horrible it still is.

I can understand the topic of conversation about 80% of the time, and I probably understand about 20-40% of what is being said completely…depending on the person speaking and the topic.

But, I’m far from being conversational. However, I loved it. I was in heaven. Kimchi-Jiggae made with 2-year-old Kimchi and homemade ddoenjang, you can’t beat it. But, on the inside I’m still torn.

Gandalf the Grey‘s life is quite enviable. What more can a man truly want…a good wife, deep happiness, and a lifestyle that is mentally stimulating and rarely boring. But what about me. I worry about these things way too much, but I am getting antsy.

I have so much more to do in this country, but I still don’t feel fully comfortable here. I feel like I’m getting close to being at the limit of how much I can immerse into the culture without having a deeper connection into Korean life…like a girlfriend so such.

The problem is that the more I see about Korean culture, the more I want to experience it. So the more I see, I actually get a bit envious and anxious…wondering when, how, and if it will happen to me.

But, I’m American. I am. Looking at some iPhone pictures of just driving in the USA I got a little homesick. Which I’ve been getting lately. I want to go back and visit. But at the same time I know…and mean truly know that I would be unhappy if I stayed there.

I would be full of regrets. I feel like a traitor for saying it…and I don’t understand it…but for some reason, for my own happiness, I really feel that I need to give the possibility of living life in Korea a fair shot.

So, even though I’m super homesick, I know that visiting the place I’m homesick for won’t fix it…that’s a bit depressing.

Well, I’ll be coming back during November, so it will at least be awesome to catch up with friends and catch a football game.

Point 3: My life will be changing a lot in the next month, and I’m not sure how.

That in itself is a bit unsettling. But it’s going to be changing is a few major ways.

My best friend in Korea is leaving the second week of June.

Gandalf the Grey and The Queen Bee are also leaving the second week of June.

I remember how hard it was leaving my best friend in America and coming here. Even though I was experiencing new thing and was super excited about being here, doing without someone who understands you and that you can talk about almost anything with still sucked.

This time I won’t have the new excitement factor…and honestly, because I became good friends with him quite fast…I’ve kinda gotten lazy about making other friends.

At the end of June, I will have about 2 friends left…and that will suck a bit.

I know it’ll probably be good for me, like making new friends. Making more Korean friends. Trying to get a group of Korean friends so I can keep improving my Korean. Etc…

But uncertainty can be a bit scary sometimes.

Anyways, in closing, I have no freaking reason to be depressed and I’m sure I’ll snap out of it by tomorrow. 

-Eric

Protected: A glimpse into a life without fear

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And this…is why I’m a teacher

I can look back on my life and pinpoint a precise handful of teachers that have really changed my life.

8th Grade: Mr. M took this fat, scared, new kid that had just joined a big school in the middle of the school year and showed me that I had some real value in life. He was also awesome at Computer Graphics which spawned my favorite hobby.

10th Grade: Mr. D was the smartest man I’ve ever known. A retired NASA engineer who was now teaching math because, well, no one knows but I guess we all assumed he was bored. He was honest and fair, and a bit of a hardass, and he let me take Geometry and Pre-Calculus the same year because I was also bored. This man never went a year of is adult life without taking a college class, and it showed. Pure Inspiration.

12th Grade: Mr. H was another math teacher. He was a huge badass that liked to make students cry and hate him. But, they learned their shit. And they learned it well. He was a bit of a scary man, but a hell of a teacher that really really cared for his students.

College: A myriad. Dr. R was probably the biggest. His love and drive for teaching was so evident that you couldn’t help but catch the contagious disease.

But the most recent one is really not that recent at all.

Back to high school. 12th grade. Gandalf the Grey was experiencing his first semester of teaching as part of his student teaching. He was our English teacher. Thing was, even though he was a hell of an English teacher, what we remember the most is how he taught us to think.

How he helped organized a “protest” of the school’s new dress code by getting every last student to show up to school is a suit or dress. We were all so well dressed and organized that the school administration freaked out. They got scared. They had no idea what to do.

He was the Gandhi or our boarding school with ridiculous rules.  He taught me that the best way to solve a problem was not to be louder or more aggressive than it, but to be smarter than it. To out think it. To attack it from outside the box.

And…he also happened to be my best friend’s brother.

…who happened to go the following year to Korea

…where he lived for 6 years

…and where he is currently visiting back from the states.

Which brings us to last night. The night before Buddha’s birthday. We decide to goto Hongdae for a night of dancing and a little fun.

Here’s the deal folks. I like dancing. And I like girls. But I’m a shy piece of shit. I’ve danced with a few girls before at the club, but since it wasn’t blatantly obvious they were into me, I walked out the door.

Gandalf the Grey, presented with this information from The Dancing King, though it was “bullshit” and as my teacher, it was his job to teach some final lessons.

Thing is, I didn’t realize just how shy of girls I was. He would point out a girl that seemed to look my way, tell me to go dance with her, and…..and……………..and I couldn’t. It was like I was giving my first speech all over again an wondering if I would pee my pants first or faint.

This was surprising to me. To be honest, since coming to Korea I’ve been getting accustomed to succeeding at anything I decided to do and put my mind to. But girls? Wow! I had no idea how bad I was at this game.

I mean I kinda knew. I watched the movie “Friend Zone” and wondered why they didn’t pay me royalties about my life. But come on man! Just fucking say SOMETHING.

A few more drinks and I was feeling a little more confident. We went to a thriving club and danced. And danced. And danced. And fucking learned a lot.

“See that girl over there?” Gandalf the Grey  would say, “She’s dancing alone. She that guy that is dancing behind her? It really makes her uncomfortable. Go butt him out and then give her space. Save her.”

So I went over there….chickened out like….well…a Chicken at KFC…and watched as another guy did the same thing and it worked for him.

Finally Gandalf the Grey talked to a girl. Told hir he was married. Introduced me instead, and she promptly put her number in my phone. Granted I wasn’t really interested in her as much as being in awe of Gandalf the Grey’s giant balls of steel.

We went outside for some escape from the pounding music and the sauna-like sweat.

Last stop. About to go home. There are three girls across the way and we can’t remember the name of “Buddah” in Korea. Gandalf the Grey tells me to go ask. I say no because I’m a giant pussy. Gandalf the Grey jumps up.

You know those situations in life where you’re so frustrated (especially that your a teacher) because you’ve been trying and trying and trying to teach someone something and they just won’t freaking learn it? And they can? But they won’t? And you want to throw a chair across the room through the window and have it come to rest on the head of another equally frustrating student? You know those days?

Gandalf the Grey was about there! The Dancing King was about there.

Gandalf the Grey goes up. Asks them. And comes back. I’m in a mortal shame spiral at this point.

I can’t even believe that I’m as big of a douchebag and a pussy that I am.

The girls leave, I get a barrage of well deserved criticism for my lack of manly parts and the apparent breadth and depth of my womanly ones.

But…they’re not gone. They’re just eating.

And wouldn’t you know it if I wasn’t a little hungry too.

So I walked it. They chuckled…a good chuckle.

I ordered my food in Korean. They whispered.

They suddenly needed the cups that were right new to me.

I gladly gave it to them. A conversation started. Gandalf the Grey came in with his excellent Korean and talked some more.

They were so excited about my learning Korean, that she paid for my Sundae (which is curdled blood stuffed into an intestine and served with liver in case you needed to know) because she was glad that I enjoyed Korea.

Then….disaster almost broke out. The left. And…much like the pussy I was was going to let them go…..

……I got scared….

…..what can I say?…

…..what can I do?…

…..”um…uh….why don’t you come to this area more often?” I say.

Thankfully at this point Gandalf the Grey came in and saved the day. The suggestion that I wanted to learn Korean and that they wanted to learn English provided a slew of facebook contacts and telephone numbers.

Gandalf the Grey…thank you once again for being my teacher. You taught me that maybe, just maybe, I too can have balls of steel!

-HuskEric

The Hangover That Just Won’t Stay

It’s been a while folks.

It’s not because I have nothing worth telling, it’s because I don’t really feel the need to share.

See, Korea is slowly changing me in ways that I don’t necessarily appreciate.

I’m gradually becoming much less egocentric, arrogant, and drama-queenish.

While that may seem like a blessing, for an American, that’s pretty much like cultural rape. If I can’t tell stories that make me look good, what the fuck am I going to do with my time?

Well I’ll tell you the answer to that rhetorical question.

1.  Be hungover.

Drinking has consequences. Long term it is eating away at my liver like a Korean woman eats cheesecake: so fucking slow you don’t even realize it’s happening until it’s all gone.

But, amidst all the consequences there is a benefit: hangovers.

I love them.

Waking up with a hangover is one of the worst things you will ever do. It’s early (like 1pm). It’s bright. You’re hazy. All you want to do is sleep.

But when the housecleaning lady from the $120 hotel that you thought was $12 keeps banging on your door and telling you to leave…you really don’t have a choice.

Actually, every time I’ve actually forced myself to wake up and do something with a hangover, I enjoy it. It’s like an all day after-buzz. Everything moves slower, and coffee tastes like the best thing you’ve ever had.

You might even write a blog post…who knows.

Back to my pointless description of life…Korea is all about who you know. Connections are king.

Thankfully for me I look like Jamie Oliver, and that guy is a fucking stud in Korea. I had no idea who he was until I came here, but everyone and their mother’s child loves him here.

Last night I got told 4 times that I was his doppledanger. What to do? It gets me attention and I like it.

But my connections are not all so shallow. Last night I experienced a part of Korean life that was so new and exciting: The life of a VIP.

I love clubs. I love dancing. But when a friend of a friend invited us to a club in Hongdae, I didn’t know what I was in for.

We walked in the door, past the lines of people waiting to get in. Flashed the VIP badge, the lady took our bags and coat, we took some complementary shot and were whisked away to the upstairs part where we were able to look down on the “common folk.”

Instead of buying drinks, there were bottle of alcohol on the table to poor from. The ladies were beautiful, the men were friendly, it was like a subculture within a subculture.

1:00 turned into 2…then 3… then 6.

When we decided to go to round 2, the sun was coming up…but the party was just beginning.

We went across town to Shinsa, my old neighborhood, to a club I never knew existed.

I will call it hooker bar.

My old area of Seoul is famous for its high class, expensive, and beautiful hookers.

These are women that, even if I decided to reach down in to my whoreish heart for a night of scandalous fun, would be so far out of my price range that my bank card would make them laugh.

But, hookers have to party too. So, there, with the sun shining brightly outside, was an amazing club filled with the most beautiful, most unpretentious people I have even seen.

They weren’t trying to get laid…they’d had plenty of that earlier.

They weren’t there to judge you…they’ve had plenty of that directed at them in their lives.

They were just there to dance. And dance we did.

Finally at 8am, when the group was moving to the 3rd club of the night, I decided to go to bed.

It was an amazing night, with amazing people, and new friends.

Honestly, now that I’m awake, I love being hungover…okay, now to escape this dark PC room and go study some Korean!

Happy Birthday Buddah!

Okay…a little dose of honesty

I’ve blogged lately about hating white people. Hating foreigners. Hating myself. And hating the Jersey Shore.

However, most of my writing, in general, is pure bullshit.

I don’t actually hate white people…although there are quite a few douche bags here.

I don’t hate myself for being white… (okay that’s a lie, but it’s nothing new to Korea)

And even thought the Jersey Shore was loud at Jeju…they’re pretty fun to run into drunk and are actually pretty awesome people.

The truth of the matter is that I think I’m going through a serious identity crisis.

Ever since shortly after I came to Korea I began to like it.

Perhaps a little too much.

In fact I like it here so much that I’ve begun to become scared that I’m somehow a traitor to my country or race or something.

I think that’s why I see the stupid people that American or white people do, and I look to them so I can say: “see, there, that’s why Korea is better, because America is full of shit-heads like that.”

So,  using the outliers of society, I begin to give myself an excuse for the fact that I may be here a long long time.

About my last post, sir Gollywog left me a well-deserved tongue lashing. Go check it out. I was a bit of an asshole and he called me out. In part of it he said this:

Answer this honestly, if there had been a Korean man, who was drunk, or just disruptive, to another bunch of foreigners who were trying to enjoy themselves, would you have confronted him? Or would you have just ignored them, even felt superior to them, because if you were in their situation you would be able to tell the guy to go away? Or would you ignore him out of a need to not rock the boat with your new friends, you would feel like that you dont want to be seen criticizing another Korean when the Koreans themselves would choose to ignore him.

The truth of it is that I probably would hive ignored this because he was a Korean. I want excuses to dislike this country, I want excused to dislike America.

But why?

Why do I like it here so much?

Why do I have this uncontrollable feeling that, even though I am different in every way from Koreans, I fit here?

I think it comes down to my upbringing.

My parents were super-conservative and that was the environment that I grew up in.

Having respect for people older than you, saying “sir” or “maam” to people, not taking the first bite of food until the older people started eating…these were just part of life.

Also among my parents values were healthy eating, a love for hiking and nature, hard work, not giving up, and being as friendly as you can to people.

My mom is also an adjumma! She has curly hair and is a little short. She is very nice, but she hardly smiles in public. And, if she’s on a mission or has work to do, beware of her pointy elbows.

The main problem with this whole situation is that my parents good values are also accompanied with an unhealthy attachment and dedication to their religion.

Because of the rigidity of the religion of home life, I left home early to go to boarding school. But, even though I hated the situation at home…I still felt like those values were the best.

Enter Korea.

Here, those values aren’t tied to religion or Christianity…they are part of the culture.

At home I felt a bit weird for not being as crazy as some of my friends, or not putting my penis into every available vagina, or not getting angry (or manly) enough at the right situations.

But here in Korea, for some odd reason, I fit.

I can’t understand it. I feel a little guilty about it. But it something that I can’t change.

Anyways, there you have it. I have no idea where this big adventure will take me. And I have no idea where I’ll land after my identity crisis. But the current forecast says Korea.

-HuskEric

How do white people die?

I used to think that white people die in car accidents, of lung cancer, of old age, or in an overly dramatic gun battle involving gang members, a drug deal, and a police crew with three men and a super hot woman.

However, today, I was having visions in my head of white people jumping in front of moving subways, diving into the Han River, or plummeting to their death from the top of 30+ story buildings.

“What a shame,” I thought, “that of all the suicides in Korea so few of them are whiteys…”

The first, albeit minor, provocation was at Hondae Park last night. There I was, having an amazing evening, when some douchebag walked up to a few guys playing guitar and proceeded to sing murderously scream at the top of his lungs.

“peg-in-nome shi-kuh-raw” I yelled in his general direction. (Which roughly translates to, “Hey white asshole…shut up”)

I received some approving looks from my neighboring Koreans.

…all was then fine until today.

After visiting the Seoul Motor show, taking plenty of pictures of the incredible sexy women who were car models innovative new cars, and eating a meal of raw fish (which included writhing live octopus) I headed to an outing with my Korean hogwan classmates.

Now, I’ve hated on my fair share of races, but somehow along the way I forgot to hate on the fucking Germans.

My Germanic hatred started with a guy named Ploss.

He about as cool and any white guy I had known up until he started grabbing my drunk friend’s boobs in a park.

There are many things that will not offend me…but attempt to rape a drunk girl until she leaves crying really crosses the line.

It wasn’t until today, however, that I solidified my hatred.

This guy, we’ll call him Hitler the Fat, joined our outing through no action of ours. He was a friend of a friend of a classmate.

Now, to be completely fair, there are two German men in my Korean hogwan. These two German men are some of the nicest, most honest, more respectful people in the world. I would like to say that they–as well as any Germans like them (which way well be 95%)–are not included in my racism. Although this will not keep me from officially hating all Germans from this point on.

Now Hitler the Fat is a chubby little fuck with an ego complex and “small penis syndrome”

One of our members brought a hookah to the campground at which we were having our party.

A hookah in public in Korea is a spectacle, so many people were looking, trying, and wondering about this fun new invention of fire and smoke.

Among them was a Chinese fellow. He came over and looked intrigued. One of my classmates speaks fluent Chinese and offered his a smoke from the hookah.

He accepted and then accidentally knocked of a small container of meat from our table onto the ground.

He apologized profusely. We said it was okay, but nicely he insisted and brought us a whole bag of samgyupsal.

Right after he did that, Hitler the Fat, stands up and yells: “FUCK YOU ching chong” with a little but of southern twang there at the end.

The Chinese fellow yells back the only English he has spoken all day: “Beoitch..man.”

My classmate who speaks Chinese calmed the situation down and the man left. Promptly after my classmate ripped into Hitler the Fat. “Why would you do that? Don’t you have any human decency?”

“uh…dude….I went over and kissed his wife, and then he said I have a small dick…the dude was an asshole, whatever. I’ll say ‘fuck you’ to whoever I want.” said the fat murderer of innocent lives.

The rest of the afternoon…what turned out to be only an hour, moved from a pleasant time to a time when I was scared to be around a group that involved him.

To Hitler the Fat, stray Frisbees are ways to hit on Korean woman playing with the their boyfriends.

To Hitler the Fat, say “Fuck his religion…am I right guys?” to our Muslim friend when he wanted to cook the pork after the beef so he didn’t eat any pig, is acceptable behavior.

To Hitler the Fat, kids walking 10 feet away from their parents are perfect targets to play the “I’ll run after you and pretend to kidnap you” game. (I wish I was joking at this point).

To Hitler the Fat, yelling on the subway is a pleasant past time and Koreans yelling “Shut up” to you as they move is funny.

To Hitler the Fat, going to a bar, having no money, telling his friend to “grab me a beer, I’ll hit you back tomorrow” and then bitching when “Heiniken is piss beer,” and telling his friend “get me another one, I won’t drink that shit…” is all in a day as the office.

Hitler the Fat prompted me to dream of the death of others. To wishfully muse about

And now this internet bigot has another race of white people to add to his hite list.

(Like I needed anymore people to hate)

Actually to be fair. I can’t hate all Germans…that’s not fair. I know too many awesome Germans.

I will however add “US Military Brat Half-Germans” to my list as well as “Semi-rapist Germans.”

…but then again…who doesn’t hate Half-German Military Brats? Eh?

I can give the guy some credit however, he did lead me to a bar which will will be the setting of my next post…

…as well as the reason that among all this, my weekend was one of the happiest I can remember…

So long for now

-HuskEric

Retards, whores, girls, and I!

I’ve come to the realization that I have nothing interesting to say anymore.

However, that will certainly not keep me from talking….it never has.

Actually I have plenty of interesting things to say, just none of them are remembered at the end of seemingly endless tiring days.

So, here I am going to give you a fairly boring update on my life.

Part 1: I’m dumber than a bus load of retards trying to solve a rubix cube.

So two days a week I have to take the subway a little over an hour for my job. It’s one line, no transfers–so usually I edge out a running adjumma for an open seat, shut my eyes, and goto sleep.

Well about two weeks ago, my cellphone alarm went off. I got up sleepily, and left the train. —leaving my $1100 laptop behind.

I guess Seoul crimelessness doesn’t extend to the “finders keepers loosers weepers” rule.

So for the past two weeks I’ve been borrowing my friend’s netbook with Linux.

Let me tell you. Linux sucks. I have neither the initiative nor the time to understand Linux…and my current configuration blows chunks of monkey poop all over the golden computer superhighway.

Next week I’ll buy a netbook of my own. I’m pissed that I lost my other one, but at least I won’t have to carry around a beast of a computer anymore.

Part 2: I’m a learning whore now. Deal with it.

Sometimes in life addictions can sneak up on you without you even knowing.

Mayonaise

Movies

Meth

…you know, the usual.

But my new addition came last week, and it’s called the library.

In Korea the public libraries are hard-freaking-core. After taking the tour, the reason for  Korean intelligence shines through like my legs on a dark night.

They give a shit. This is a public library. a PUBLIC library. It’s not full of social rejects trying to get their free internet fix. Nor is it really about books.

This is a studying powerhouse. Hundreds of people in studying cubicles supercharging their brains on knowledge.

In the basement is even a cafeteria to that you can grab some Korean grub and return to your studies.

So, I’ve been drinking less on the weekends just so I can go to the library and study the shit out of Korean.

I will bitch-slap this language faster than a turtle can climb a mountain…as in it’s still pretty damn slow, but it’s faster than a snail.

Part 3: Spring is here and I want a girl.

There’s really no good reason for me not having a girlfriend. Honestly there’s not.

Every fat ugly mentally and socially retarded white guy here seems to have one.

And…I don’t mean to brag…but I’m not mentally retarded!

The truth is that I’ve been to busy, and too shy, and too picky.

At least one of those is going to change soon…I can feel it.

I just hope it’s not the picky one.

Actually I think I just need to rethink my plan. I was kinda holding out for a girlfriend…you know…the time that likes you, and you like them, and you kinda like the same things, and you feel happy when you’re together…that type.

But I’m thinking about going more towards that “mutually using each other” aspect.

I’m not talking about sex.

But I AM talking about language practice, status, and those lonely times.

Why the hell not? right?

I mean clearly what I really want is a real girlfriend…I think…I mean I REALLY like being single right now…but it’s spring. And I feel it in the air.

I think I’ll hope for a real girlfriend, but also be willing to take the other kind too.

Part 4: What the fuck am I going to do next year?

The problem with being a good teacher is that people want you.

(Although in Korea I think you could replace “being a good teacher” with “being white and breathing”)

But…I am a damn good teacher. I’m not bragging…it’s just a fact. I give a shit and I’m good at it.

So, I’m trying to get out of the situation I’m in now…but I like the kids and the staff I work with.

But come August for sure, I’ll be looking other ways.

Public school seems to be calling my name for the time being.

But I also got another job offer yesterday where I would like in New York 8 months out of the year and in Korea 4 months out of the year.

The job is amazing. The offer is amazing. It’s being offered by the most honest and trustworthy person I know in Korea. I wouldn’t have to even think about money.

But…I don’t want to leave Korea, and I don’t want to live in upstate New York. I mean it’s all about adventure. And I’m all about that. But, wow, I’m not finished with this adventure yet.

I have friends here. I want a girlfriend here. I love the culture here. I love….almost everything about this place…and honestly the thought of leaving this and moving back to America scares the shit out of me.

I don’t know what I’m going to do. I guess I could always do it for a year, and then come back. I don’t know. I have a little time to decide…but not much.

Well folks, I have to take a Korean test then goto sleep. I start a new Korean class tomorrow and I don’t want to be tired!

-HuskEric

I’m cleaned up and ready for action!

Not my real apartment

For quite some time now my room has been a complete shit hole.

I hate it. There were old clothes, old bottles, old…just crap all over the place.

Talk about depressing. There’s nothing worse than waking up from a hangover and realizing that you live is a pile of crap.

The truth is that I am a very organized and clean person, but I’m also a perfectionist. Three weeks ago I set out to clean my desk, which I did, but it took over an hour.

Every little think much be clean. It must look perfect when I finish.

However, for that past three months…make that four, I have not had the spare time to complete this task.

Today, however, I did. I woke up feeling great after a fun night at Hongdae (see below).

So, for 7 hours I separated trash, sorted laundry, wiped down counters, did dishes, and washed my floors.

In short I cleaned the shit out of my apartment.

I can not express the amount of stress relief I feel living in a clean apartment again!

Here’s the result. I knew I had clothes that don’t fit anymore…but I didn’t know how many.

This is the picture of all the crap that doesn’t fit anymore. Sad really. I think that’s like $1500 worth of clothes or more.

Does anyone know how I can productively get rid of these clothes in Korea?

Now my wardrobe is comprised of the following.

5 undershirts
3 shirts
4 Pairs of jeans
1 suit
4 suit shirts (that barely made the “too big” cut. They still look hideous”)
2 coats

Even my suit that I dropped half a grand on to get custom made last month is getting too big for me.

Next month I am going to shop the shit out of Doota market I swear. I can finally fit into their largest size in shirts, and 32 jeans are everywhere!

Anyways….back to last night.

Last night was the first night that it was warm enough to play guitar at Hongdae park.

After meeting with my language partner in Hapjeong for some amazing food we stopped my for coffee.

I love how they do coffee art here. The place was called Chan’s Coffee, and it’s a pretty sweet place to go!

But I met up with Andrew at the park. He had his guitar and we found a nice secluded place to play and started playing away from people.

Our goal was to have a little fun play guitar, listening to the vibe of the park, but not trying to impress anyone.

Then people started creeping into the seats behind us. Then a girl came and gave us some makkelli.

Then she did it again. Then she asked us to turn around so she could hear us better because we were being rude and selfish not letting them hear us!

Hahaha… I liked the way she put it.

This was all in Korean of course and translated.

I same a few songs, Andrew sang a few songs, and then I got told quite strongly that I needed to learn Korea very very fast because she wanted to flirt with me but had no means of doing so with the language barrier!

oh…her way with words.

After that we went to FF Club.

The result of the evening is that I am again falling in love with Hongdae.

And that I have a new theory about Korean girls…the ones with the best personality are not from Seoul, but from outside Seoul.

Am I right on this? Is Apgujeong girls : Seoul :: Seoul girls : Korea?

-HuskEric

How to Loose Weight in Korea for Dummies (and fatties)

Hello friends. It’s been a while and I’m sorry. There have been so many things I wanted to write about, but alas, the time slipped me by.

But, then I got sick. Do you know what they put in these $5 cold medicines here? Me neither. But I’ve been flying high for two days now.

So, what better time to write a blog than when things like time and space make no sense to you.

I recently weighed myself, and to my surprise, I’d lost another 3kg (6.6lbs) since the last time I stepped on the scales.

Holy Kitten Kaboodles! So, I decided to give everyone a step by step process on how to loose weight in Korea and become overall more awesome.

Step 1: Be fat

Look no one likes a skinny bitch complaining about his/her weight. If your skinny and you want to go on a diet…great…fine. Tell your best friend or your husband. Better yet, shut the fuck up. No one cares.

However, if you’re a fatty-McFatterson and you’ve finally decided to shake off a few of those extra apple fritters from last month when you went to the carnival dressed like “Porky-The-Pucking-Phat-Clown,”  then by all means tell me.

Tell everyone. Swear your entire integrity on it. That way if you fail, there will be enough shame that you will either get back on the horse and start bucking, or become an over-sized speed bump for the 4:05 express train.

Point is, if your fat to start with, it’s easier to see results.

Step 2: Live a Korean schedule

This is important. If you want to look skinny, then you better be busy. I’m not saying be busy all day, just schedule a lot of things near meal times.

The goal here is to be so busy that you don’t have time to think about all the food you want, you just settle for a kimbap, sandwich, or some jumokbap. Throw a pepsi in there I don’t care. Here in Korea, they are small and easy to digest. No harm done.

If you have no time to eat, you have no time to stay fat. Period. If you want to stop being a lard covered, deep-fried lard tard, then you have to get busy now.

Step 3: You can eat what ever you want, as long as it’s Korean.

Korean food is tasty. No doubt about it. But it is also spicy. Some people say don’t over do it.

I say do.

Friends, you are about to embark on a 6 month anal adventure. The best way to loose weight is to eat food that tastes so good you want more, but food that your body can’t wait to move the fuck right along.

Six months ago I liked taking big hearty dumps. They were relaxing. They were refreshing. Now, they are painful and I can’t even stand the smell.

It had changed to the point that I even prefer public bathrooms to my own. Why in the name of God would I want THAT in my bathrooms. Wow!

But seriously. Eat Korean and a shit ton of it. Want to splurge? Don’t. Want a steak? Get a don-kka-su instead. Want a burger? Eat some  “to-a-suh-tuh”. Want linguine and a bikini? Go beat up a hooker.

Whatever you do..and this is important…if you splurge…FEEL GUILTY.

I recently (while I was loosing weight) woke up and saw four pizza boxes in my apartment on the floor. Why? Because ordering online was less stress than possibly messing up the phone order. That’s it!

I swore at my self using the most vulgar things I could think of and then promised to not eat pizza for a month.   Done.

Step 4: Drink…A LOT.

Drinking for weight loss? I think so. In fact that’s how I’ve lost most of my weight. My weight will stay the same for a week. Then after a weekend of liver abuse, I’m down 2-3kg.

How does this work? Simple. In Korea there is no closing time. If you are drink you are getting less sleep which means you are burning more fat for longer.

Secondly, when I drink I tend to dance my ass off…quite literally it turns out. Nothing makes you want to exercise like throbbing K-pop and a bottle of Soju.

Thirdly, have you ever been so drunk that you couldn’t eat for too days???? BINGO!!! That’s the winning formula. I’m serious. Just as you think you may be able to eat again, so smoke a cigarette. It’ll make you sick all over again and you’re good for another 2-3 hours.

This is all about self-discipline folks.

Step 5: Drinking and driving is stupid. Climb mountains instead.

In Korea drinking and mountains are the two favorite pastimes besides planning world domination schemes involving Japan.

Do you know any better way to forget that your legs are killing you and you can’t go on?

Can you think of a better way to give you courage to climb the ropes to the top free-handed?

Can you think of a better way to loose weight than in a hospital bed?

…Climbing mountains drunk…do it.

Step 6: (The final step because I’m tired.) Don’t be an asshole. Don’t exercise.

See that guy? No one likes that guy. I mean except for that super hot chick that he got lock-and-key…but besides her…no one like him. He’s aaaa giiiiaannnt dooooooouuuuche!

Why? Look. I’ve worked very hard at the above methods to loose my weight. But I have no desire to achieve sculpted perfection like that dolt.

I mean who wants perfect carved biceps, washboard abs, and nipples that can do 5lbs curls…not this guy.

That’s where plastic surgery come in. Look, I’ve worked hard for this weight loss. And…not I’m making more money. So, I can get plastic surgery, look like that asshole, but have none of the fucking annoying self-actualization crap that comes a long with it.

Here’s my goal. Another 10kg on my own. Then I’ll feel okay with going into the doc and saying…hey buddy…slice and dice my self esteem back into place.

Anyways. Stop being a toilet-filling, food dumpster grease ball and come loose weight the Korean way!

-HuskEric

I haven’t lost the love

…just the time to write. I have a few post half written.

But…since you only accept the best, I can’t just post random shit.

(I know I know…I’ve TOTALLY done that on pretty much every post)

I’ve not given up, just can’t justify spending time on a blog over homework, vocab practice, lesson planning, and sleep.

Be back soon!

-HuskEric

Some days I just feel like writing

Yesterday was one of those days. So I tried it in Korean again.

It’s a frustrating process. Most of the words I used I know. But I’m never sure if the meaning I’m giving off is the meaning that I want to.

I’m loving the people at lang-8.com

It’s one of the best sites for learning a new language!

Anyways…I know it’s going to be completely boring to those of you who don’t care…but here it it! Enjoy^^

 

거만하고 싶지 않아요.
거만한 사람은 너무 싫어요!그렇지만, 나는 다행이애요. 돈이 많은 것도 아니고 큰 아파트에 사는 것도 아니에요.
하지만, 요즘 정말 행복해요! 이런 행복은 한국이 저에게 가져다 주었어요! ^^
정말이에요! 저는 미국 생활을 할 때보다 한국 생활이 더 기쁘고 건강하며 만족스러워요.
여지친구는 없어요. 여자친구를 사귀고 싶어요. 의심스러운 점이 많아요.
많이 다양한 생각들이 제 마음 속을 날아 다녀요.

나는 괴롭니? 아니요!!
나는 스트레스를 받고있니? 아니요!!
나는 쓸쓸하니? 글쎄요, 어쩌면요.

그렇지만, 한국에서 행복을 잡았어요.
한국이 나를 이렇게 만들어 준 것 같아요.

나는 요즘 심각하게 고민하고 있어요.
나는 여기에서 10년동안 실까요? 30년? 죽을 때까지?
몰라요! 정말! 몰라요!
그렇지만 우선은, 천만다행이에요. 좋은 친구가 많이 있고 직업도 있는 친절하고 훌륭한 나리에 살아요!
지금 피곤해요! 잘자!

-HuskEric

I’m an odd cookie

I’m a weird guy. People that know me know this. I make no effort to hide it.

I like salsa packets plain. And ketchup. I enjoy cracker, cheese, soy sauce, and mayo sandwiches….maybe with a pickle on top.

I like weird music, do weird things, and talk to weird people.

There nothing new about this. It’s just comes with the territory with me.

On to Korea. One the of the exciting things, and scary things, about moving to Korea was the possibility of change.

People who knew kept telling me that I would change.

That I would be different.

That I would somehow morph.

Now, I’ve morphed before. I talked about it before. But deep down inside my core has stayed the same.

So six months into Korea I start looking back and thinking about the ways I’ve changed. There are many.

Some are superficial. I’ve gotten a lot skinnier. I’ve gotten a lot healthier. I started smoking again. Eating weird food here doesn’t make me weird.  Etc.

Then there are deeper changes. I’m much less lazy. I’m much more motivated. I study hard. I work hard. I have incredibly exciting days where I’m passionate about teaching followed by lonely melancholy evenings at home…and I’m okay with that.

I’ve become much less dependent on others for social needs, fun, and happiness.

But…the biggest change…I can’t describe it.

I really can’t. I’ve spent the past three days trying to figure out how to explain it.

I don’t know that I can…mainly because I think it’s a huge change in progress.

Let me try to explain it. I used to have a dream that I would one day teach in Seattle. To me Seattle was the most beautiful city I had ever visited, yet big enough for plenty of excitement.

I also quite enjoyed the prospect of teaching perhaps in Chicago.

Now, those prospects sound quite banal and monotonous.

I used to have a dream that I would find someone and fall in love with someone so similar and awesome to me that we would be happy forever. Perhaps she would love music, and math, and computers, and art, and design, and architecture, and cooking…and it would be this beautiful happy home with a back yard and a little garden.

Now…you got it. Boring.

My dream is to meet someone so different from me that I may never fully learn that person. I want different culture, language, interests…( cooking still remains a must^^).

What has happened? What has changed? What is changing?

I thought perhaps it might just be an opening of my eyes after realizing that America is not the whole world. That may be part of it, but I don’t think it’s the whole thing.

I do quite well with change.

Which in Korea is a good thing because everything you see is always in a constant state of flux: jobs, businesses, contracts, buildings, construction projects…everything.

But, that’s not to say change is not scary. In fact it scares the shit out of me.

With all my heart, I want to want to go back to Nebraska.  I really do. In a way I wish could go back and live the simple, good life that field and corn and beef and fattitude have to offer.

But I don’t think I can. I don’t think I could be happy there again…it’s a shame really.

I guess we’ll just see what the future holds. For now, I’m in Korea.

-HuskEric

 

 

Jeju Pictures

Okay folks here it is, the pictures from Jeju Island. Quick word or warning, if the place you are reading this is not condusive to pictures of concrete boobies…maybe save the viewing for later.

So, without further ado…

We left Seoul Tuesday night around 11:00pm. The drive to Mokpo was supposed to take 4.5 hours. The original plan was to stay in a love hotel in Mokpo for about 5 hours until the ferry started boarding at 8:ooam.

However, the trip took 8 hours. The roads were packed all the way until we got about an hour from Mokpo.  I’ve seen traffic jams before. But none like this.

It was 2:00am…3:00am…4:00am and the roads looked like the Chicago freeway at rush hour. Amazing.

Us going up the ramp to the ferry.

 

The sleeping rooms on the ferry. I guess no one got word to wear new clean socks. Since you have to take off shoes in the sleeping area, It was soon obvious that most people had been wearing the same socks and shoes for 10-18 hours.

 

Some art museum. Pretty interesting.

 

Love-Land. One of Jeju’s three sex museums. This one is a mostly outdoor theme park full of statues. Before Korea developed into such a rich nation, most people could not afford international honeymoons. So, most people simply went to Jeju. The island is well known for couples gettin it on.

 

My Korean friend and I sitting on the love land bench.

 

Yep….

 

 

Un huh….there was also a 10 foot high, and 40 foot long penis statue. You could run up one end, and slide down the tip.

 

Yep…

 

 

We got the chance to ride a submarine under the ocean to see some coral and fish.

 

 

A view of the last around the crater

 

 

The famous Jeju-do black pig. Oh so tasty.

 

 

Just me and a Korean buddy. We go hiking up mountains all the time.

 

 

More beautiful sights. From the bridge the water was to clear. We saw a baby shark swimming under the bridge.

The same area. Different view.

 

 

Oh Jeju. If I lived there I would find it so easy to be a vegetarian. There are so many different types of fruits there. the Kyul 귤 is perhaps the most famous from Jeju. But there are red kiwis, grapes…everything your heart could want…fruit wise that is.

 

 

We got to go into a Kyul orchard and pick as many as we could for 10 minutes.

 

 

Some wonderful seafood soup.

 

 

Something related to Kimchi and history.

 

 

Oh the hareubangs. 하르방. There are everywhere on Jeju. People kept calling them penis statues. I couldn’t disagree.

 

 

More scenery.

 

Beautiful Ocean scenery.

 

 

More.

 

 

Hallasan. That was my goal for the trip. It is the highest mountain in South Korea. Wonderful volcano.

 

 

More from the Mt.

 

 

Me all garbed up in my hiking gear.

Getting close.

Getting Closer!!!!

Finally there!!! The top!!!

Last but not least was our trip to eat horse. Now, before you get you white-tightys all tangled up in your butt-crack. The United States and Canada export a butt load of horses are killed here each year. They are just exports. Also, horse meat taboo is a fairly modern thing. And it is much much healthier for you than beef.
(The again, chewing on your dirty sock cheese may be healthier for you than eating beef)

The end of the trip. Saying goodbye to Jeju.

 

Anyways, the trip was awesome. I’m sure I’ll go again sometimes. It was good rest for a worn out man!

-HuskEric

It’s the little things that get me

In my honest, humble moments of self-reflection I usually liken myself to Albert Einstein.

I’m a fucking genius.

You might not agree with me, but it’s true. I’m one smart white cracker. It’s actually haunted me through life.

Now, I don’t want to toot my own horn here, (Who the hell am I kidding?) but here’s some examples.

I start school one year late, but then took 1st, 2nd, and 3rd grade in one year.

I’ve always been the youngest in my class, was 16 years old my senior year in high school, and owned the ACT.

In college they wanted me to take Pre-Calculus. I bitched because I took a year in high-school. But, because it wasn’t taught by someone with their masters degree they wanted my to take it again.

Nope. I took the cumulative test. Got 95%. So instead they passed me on and I became a tutor for the Math department.

Science. Easy. Math. Easy.

Social skills…now that’s a bitch.

Somewhere along the line I realized that I needed to sacrifice my brain for the sake of fun and social needs.

For my credit, I think it worked at least mildly. I’m not too socially awkward. I’m a friendly guy. And I still find time to feed the insatiable hunger for knowledge my brain has.

…when I’m not hungover that is.

Here’s my point.

The stupidest things baffle me.

Complex job situation where 100 things need done all right now? I got it. I thrive on it. It’s where I feel comfortable.

Interpersonal problems requiring the utmost tact, diplomacy, with a dash of selective deception? I have it covered. I’m a master.

Throw me in the middle of a big city, ask me to find my way? I have you covered. It’s like a damn built in compass.

Pay my bills on time? Figure out which day to wash my clothes? Remember which class I have next? Remember to wear my coat outside? Not a chance in hell.

I can’t do it. I’m always forgetting something. Missing something.

I LOVE a clean environment. I can design an efficiency system to keep my apartment clean for years.

Think I can remember to put my socks in the hamper when I walk into the door? Where I put my keys? How long the eggs have been in the refrigerator? Again…not a chance.

This my friends is why I need a woman.

Women are fucking fantastic at the details. I love it.

Give me a job where I get to use my brain. Make me work 6…7…9…14 hours a day. Give me a large complex problem to solve once in a while as a bone.

I’ll be happier than a dog humping a tree to sign over my money to you.

Just tell me what to buy at the clothing store. Remind me to do my laundry. And perhaps help me keep my fridge stocked with Kim-Chi and Banchan.

Because for every area that I’m a freaking brainiac, there is an equally large area in which I’m certifiably retarded.

And I realize that.

-HuskEric

 

P.S….Pictures are coming tomorrow!!!

 

One small step for racism, One giant leap for the winter of bitchiness.

Yes friends. I admit it. I’ve been a little bitchy this winter.

I’m not sure why that is, perhaps is that somewhere between the snowless winter, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Day, may hypochondriatic Seasonal Affective Disorder got SAD.

Whatever. I haven’t been bitchy in terms of…like…actually bitching. But I have said some pretty nasty things.

To be fair, all the nasty things I’ve said I meant 100%. Like how much I hate Canadians, Brits, American, and other white people.

What I’ve been needing for a long time now is a good kick in the ass and some lovin’. Preferably by the same person.

Last week I got the fix I needed.

No, I didn’t get my ass kicked, I didn’t get lovin’, nor did I even get slapped in the face.

I got Jejued.

Mwa??

Yes.

Jeju: v. 1. To take someone on vacation, force them to relax, and thereby pull the “whiny-Mc-whinerson” straight out of his/her sorry ass.

See. It’s in the dictionary.

I went to Jeju island with a group of about 30 people. Joining me were two of my Korean hiking buddies.

Now, at first I wasn’t too happy about the contents of the trip because out of the 30 or so people, there were only 6.3 Koreans.

(.1 for me, and .2 for another guy who freaking rocks and is my Korean language hero…yeah, you better believe it. I got 10% Korean as a gift for Seollal, and I’m going to hold on to it!)

In addition, the Jersey Shore Live crew was sitting in the back row of the bus.

They were funny. In the way that Jersey Shore is funny. Which is the way that someone getting run over by a train on YouTube is funny. Which is to say it’s not so funny as much as it’s shockification you can’t look away from.

Then there were the guidos.

Anyways, I mostly kept isolated with my Korean friends.

Since I was there with a Korean man and his female cousin, I think people thought we were dating.

In fact I know they thought that because people just kept asking where my Korean girlfriend was. Oh well. It was kinda funny.

Especially on the boat when we were arguing about which guy she liked more. I’m pretty sure every Korean man in the place thought I was getting the rough end of the girlfriend yelling at me stick.

Whatever. Back to my story. Jeju was absolutely amazing.

I learned a few words from the Jeju dialect. Saw amazing scenery. Picked tangerines straight from a tree. Saw palm trees. Ate black pig. Ate horse. Saw a horse performance. Went underwater in a submarine. And last but not least climbed Mt. Halla. (Hallasan)

However none of that can beat my top 3 achievements from the weekend.

So, without further ado…here it is.

3. Learned to play GoStop.

This is a wonderful game that has become a traditional game to be played with family for…you guessed it…money. Betting. Amazing. I lost 15,000 won playing…but whose to judge. I did win a few hands and managed to learn an incredibly complicated game in the process.

2. Began a slow accent up my road of racism rehabilitation.

It was somewhere in between the time when one of the Jersey Shore set off a firecracker in the middle of the cafeteria of a crowded ferry, and after she thanked me for grabbing it and throwing it under a metal plate, that I began to realize something: “Wow, white people are people too!”

I think it was a good realization, because I began to find some things the white folk were saying mildly amusing and at times down right funny.

(Damn! It’s really been a LONG time since I looked in a mirror…I wonder what’s on the other side these days)

Actually, in all seriousness, I felt quite bad that I had been so closed minded and pouting about fact that there weren’t more Koreans to learn from/practice with that I had missed the opportunity to make some new friends.

Besides that firecracker incident, (Which, looking back, is freaking hilarious. She thought it was a giant candle…and all the writing was in Korean), they were pretty cool.

In the way that people from New York City are cool. Which is the way baggy pant, FUBU shirts, and caps worn backwards are cool. Which is to say that about 8 years ago they would have been my gods.

I’m not helping my case. I need to shut up. Moving on.

I think I may try to be a more accepting person in Korea.

I realized that all the antics that annoyed me here by westerners were antics that in the social context of Lincoln, NE I would find freaking hilarious.

It’s a least a good thinking point.

1. Got energy for Korea once again.

I really needed this. I didn’t realize how much I needed it until I got back and realized that my school is not that bad. My communte is not that long. The view from my apartment is actually nice. Morning classes aren’t that bad. I like my students. Even the bad one.

All the things I had been bitchy about for the past couple months simply weren’t here when I got back.

I think I had burned myself out.

I think I’m back in good form.

I think I’m ready to tackle the next few days, months, years, etc.

I think I’m ready I take on the world.

I think the winter of bitchiness is not over.

Except posts full of sunshine, hello kitty, and poop ton of happiness!

-HuskEric

 

P.S.

Do you want me to post pictures?? or would that be boring?

Tell me below.