Jimjilbanging

Last weekend, I got to check an item off my Korea bucket list: going to a jimjilbang!

Okay, so in case you don't know, a jimjilbang is kind of like a Korean spa. Except that it's not just for hoity-toity white people.

Going to a jimjilbang, unlike a spa back home, is completely financially accessible. It's all of $8 to get in. This gives you access to the communal baths, the saunas, cold rooms, everything. Jimjilbangs are open 24 hours a day, which is why lots of drunk people choose to sleep here overnight.

So...walking into the ladies portion of the joint was...quite the experience. As someone who never had to shower with other girls and had minimal exposure to locker rooms growing up (due to my aversion to working out), the amount of nakedness I encountered was overwhelming. There was just so much ... vagina ... everywhere! I wouldn't exactly consider myself a prude, but really? Is it really necessary to lay out on the communal benches, put on your make-up, do your hair, calm your screaming babies--in the nude? Needless to say, I didn't partake in the communal bathing. I was just too chicken, I'll admit it.

However, onto the part of the jimjilbang that wasn't overwhelmingly nightmarish--the saunas! I've never been the type to partake in sauna-ing before, so this was quite the departure from the norm for me. It was just so utterly relaxing. I could have spent all day there!

About a million other people who have taught in Korea wrote on their blogs about jimjilbangs and no one was nearly as terrified of all the nakedness, so that's probably just a "me" thing.

Who is this girl?

Tonight was such an amazing night, I just must blog about it. In fact, the whole day has been fabulous (considering I got to speak to Trailer Park Boy on Skype and eat ramyun--not entirely equal happenstance).

But tonight: tonight began with going out to dinner with my co-teachers at a Japanese restaurant (of all places), eating near-live Octopus (which means the octo-shavings and legs were STILL MOVING as I was eating them), drinking soju and soaking up local culture. The evening progressed into a full-blown "celebration" in Bupyeong (less than $4 taxi ride away and a little bit of wandering). We ended up at the foreigner bar, Goose Goose. While enjoyable, the real fun was yet to come.

We traversed our way to  Hobar (that's right, ladies and gents, ho-bar) where my entire perception of the world changed. Alas, I am being melodramatic again, but I can't help myself. Never before have I been the source of attention not of my own forcible making. I mean to say that while I have been the center of attention before, it was because I worked very hard so that I could earn it (i.e. theater) or I elbowed and shoved my way to the front. Tonight was not like that.

Immediately upon entering the bar, I knew this is not my "kind of place." There were many lasers and a blacklight making my neon pink shirt that my ma bought me at Michael's 24 hours before I left the states for $3 glow like a glowstick and the music is what I like to call "bumpin," nearly too loud to hear each other. And so I make friends with the bartender, a VERY nice girl. And then three girls playing darts. And then two shy girls interested in my co-teacher. And on and on and on. Everyone, so nice, so complimentary, and so enamored with ME--I can only presume because I am "waygookin," or foreigner.

Me, the girl without rhythm, tore up the dance floor, entire groups of Koreans forming circles around me as I kicked it like I would alone in my bedroom. Some of the best dancers made way for me, some geek from Arizona, with no idea of what she is doing. How surreal, right? An entirely out-of-body experience, to be sure. I convinced my attachés that I was making it up as I went along. Fake it 'til you make it, that I convinced myself that I would never see these people again. So I played wingman, my favorite role, enhancing the awesomeness within the people around me so that other people notice.

And there is so much awesomeness to notice. What kind people the Koreans are. Sometimes they are timid, but they nothing but kind. I am glad for tonight. It made me fall in love with this place.

It's like senior year all over again

I have an extremely nontraditional job, which you readers might have already surmised. It's crazy because I spend a lot of time running around like a chicken with my head cut off, hurriedly trying to accomplish something and prove my usefulness, wandering around like a lost child in Disneyland (been there, done that), or getting fed up and just sitting back and doing nothing because I feel so unhelpful and un-useful.

So that's my life. And my major goal is to do more of the former than I do the latter. But today is a latter day. I'm playing hookey. Or hooky. Or hookie? Anyway, my computer only recognizes the latter as a misspelled word. (See what I just did there?)

And just so you know, it's gonna be awesome. Hell, it was already worth it when I woke up this morning next to Z at 10 am.

Dear future self,


Have a good self-appointed day off.

Love, past self.

The end of the beginning--finally.

This might seem like deja vu, but tomorrow marks the last day of training. Again. This week has been very challenging, as it seemed to extend into the realm of uncountable hours stretching on into infinity. But even infinity has its limits, it seems.

I think many people in my training group are apprehensive for the end of this week. Although it's been boring and shockingly repetitive (of PSO), the end of training means the real beginning of our year of service, full of its own responsibilities like bi-weekly supervisor check-ins, weekly to monthly check-ins with our VISTA group, check-ins with our VISTA Leaders, weekly reports, quarterly reports, and really, the list could go on and on. But me?

No apprehension here. I welcome the challenges ahead and can't wait to dive right in and make a difference. I am VERY excited, people.

But before I can commence diving right in, I am being rewarded with a lovely long weekend and I shall doubly reward myself by going to the Norton Simon Museum of Art tomorrow to look at all the awesome paintings by Monet, Rembrandt, Degas, Renoir, van Gogh, Raphael, Botticelli and more. And guess what? It's free Friday, so I can actually afford this little bit of culture.

Give me a P!

Being in Portland was an awesome experience.

Americorps took care of everything; as I told my mother, I didn't spend a dime in four days! For me, that is a big deal, and one to celebrate. The beds were amazing--if a cloud and a feather were to make love, THIS was the bed in which they would have chosen this bed. The food was delicious, all local, fresh. Some people complained that there was too many veggies. Whaaaat? Not. Possible.

While I was there, I spent some time wandering around by myself, enjoying the atmosphere, checking out local cafes, walking the waterfront, seeing friends old and new, and learning a lot.

While I was there, I had the opportunity to visit my friend, E, who hosted a friend and I last Spring Break, which was an awesome and mind-blowing experience that marked many firsts for me--dumpster diving, minor building projects, sleeping in a tent indoors, and many, many more adventures. Re-visiting was another whirlwind, a different cast of characters but the same old zany fun.

Well, as it turns out, one of the new roommates, J, is from Arizona, and he and I just happened to go to the same middle and high schools and he just happened to date one of my best friends in the whole world, J! Small world.

For me, Portland is just one of those magical places where I am more creative, where I see human interactions that make me think, where I can run into people I knew a DECADE ago. I feel SO old.

Adventures in Tourism

To continue the epic saga of J's stay in California, we spent an afternoon like any other tourist would - down on Hollywood Boulevard, home to many of L.A.'s famous sites.

Of course, we got our fair share ( and somebody else's, let's be real) of pics with the dog. Don't judge.

 

...Because doing LA J-style isn't quite like doing LA any other way. You're doing it balls-to-the-wall wacky, tacky,  and downright weird. These aren't even the best pictures I captured. I'm just too lazy to sort through the mounds of photos left behind in her absence.

 

Yes, that is my dog matching up her paws with Donald Duck's.

Come back, J! My apartment isn't the same without you!!!

Anything's possible with your toes in the sand . . .

I am very lucky to be living in California. I get to complain about 80 degree weather. I look out the window and see the beautiful, lush Hollywood Hills with the occasional mansion peaking out between the foliage. Friends and family come to visit me all the time because I live in a place people would rather be during the summer. And the winter. And I am within *somewhat* reasonable driving distance to the beach. So, on Friday, I went to Santa Monica with the boyf to meet up with an old friend from high school, Ms. J and her boy of the mo'.

We spent the day at the beach, laying out on towels beneath the low cloud cover. Kids danced in the waves and seagulls dive-bombed our food stash. Huge sandwich -- you will be missed.

After much convincing, J and I walked out into the water with our respective boys. At first, it felt freezing cold, but it seemed to warm up. It was so much fun splashing and playing, even if I am still terrified of the ocean.

Los Feliz Street Fair

"I may be more Type A than any of us ever thought: I am currently sitting at home in the dark researching cool things to do in LA and then scheduling them in my cal as "Socialitas" so that on any given night, I can do something other than sit in the dark researching cool things to do in LA."
July 20 at 8:18pm · Facebook



Well guess who used a "socialitas" event today! Yeah, that's right. ME.


Today, T and I went to the 18th annual Los Feliz street fair. Warm air hung like wet laundry in our faces, but the sounds of laughter still pricked the ears of infants and dogs that precariously scavenged for food and dribbled ice cream on the asphalt.

Dog Park Fun

I would never be seen with a dog in my purse, a string of rhinestones strung around her neck, feeding her Fiji from the bottle; I'm just not that kind of girl. I promise. So why do I find myself owning a dog roughly the size of my purse, with a turquoise collar reflecting the sun in its tiny, cheap stones? I absolutely draw the line with the water though. No can do.

Meet Mr. Darcy. She's a pretty good dog, except for all the barking and her unfortunate dislike for anything shorter than me. T isn't exactly that kind of dog owner either. But then again, here I am, actually writing a post that was supposed to be about our trips to recent dog parks and instead, all I'm doing is writing about my pooch.


So anyway, T and I visited a couple dog parks. Wow, that was anticlimactic.


In all seriousness, though, we visited a dog park located somewhere in Silver Lake last night with our canine. We stumbled across it in our forays to find Echo Park. After enough driving, we found our way, but not before indulging in some Tacos Arrizas (just putting what the neon sign said) and getting rear-ended by a guy who wasn't paying attention. The actual dog park was sweet. It was separated into small and large sections and Darcy even played with a few of the others. It was like watching her at school.

Today we went to a dog park over on Laurel Canyon, but there's less to say about it, except for the fact that the day was unbelievably beautiful, the sky a deep, rich blue and all the dogs waggling their tales, showing off how happy they are. Summer's finest.

That's Lew-Eee-See-Kay to you

How to win a free, all-expenses paid show to see Lewis CK at The Largo:

-have connections
-profit from the adverse health conditions of others

Actually, it's really that simple.

It All Ends . . .

The tagline has been everywhere for the last couple weeks - billboards, newspapers, the trailers on youtube I can't seem to stop watching. But for me today, ladies and gentlemen, the saga didn't end, because J.K. Rowling's final opus wasn't done justice in what is hopefully the very last installment of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. While the film conveyed itself in rushed, segmented bits of action, this alone does not sign HP7 2.0's death certificate. Sure, David Yates barrels through the business of mourning Fred Weasley, and Tonks' and Lupin's deaths are left nearly ignored except for a spare couple of seconds of film. But there is some heart buried in the story, alongside a little creativity and great special effects. Unfortunately, this last movie does not play as the great culmination of an seven-book phenomenon or an eight-movie franchise, but rather as yet another poorly-conceived fireworks show of the summer's blockbusters.

But we did get some pretty cool glasses.

Edu-Tainment

I will be seeing this wonderful group, ARCADE FIRE, tonight, along with this wonderful group:

Local Natives

There's no need to be too jealous, but just in case this blog post has been ineffective, I will be posting tomorow/friday about the amazingness that will have been my weekend in the middle of my week.

PS, if you haven't heard either of these groups, I suggest the following educational playlist (And I put it in French to be fancy!):

• As an amuse bouche - "Modern Man" AF
• Hors d'oeuvres - "Wide Eyes" LN
• L'entree - "Stranger Things" LN
• La soupe - "World News" LN
• Le potage -"Sprawl" AF
• Le plat principal - "Wake Up" AF
• La salade - "Shape Shifter" LN
• Le dessert - "We Used to Wait" AF

For your grad-level edutainment:

•  "Wasted hours" AF
• "City With No Children" AF
• "Airplanes" LN
• "Wide Eyes" LN
• The "Neighborhood series" AF
• The Suburbs album all the way through

Ay Bay-Bay

Today, boyfriend and I took our dog, Mr. Darcy, to the park.

I had never been to this particular park before because it's pretty far away from our place, but I am so glad we went! It's a gigantic park with TWO dog parks (one for big dogs, one for little ones).

While we were there, we saw two French bull mastiffs (I think that's what they're called). Wowzas.


Yesterday, we went to Venzo's pizza because I had a huge hankering for stromboli. Best Friend can attest, these delicious pizza loaves are an oddity, a deliciosity! If you've never had one, give it a try! but then again, there's no way to figure out if you're going to run into the issue that we did. While the stromboli was delish, it was also more calzone-like than it should be.

Sigh.

Someday, Ray's Pizza, Some. Day.

PS if anyone knows of any jobs in LA, help a sista out.

Californ-i-a

You know what's great? Being up at 2 am on a Wednesday night and being able to turn to T and say "I want to go on a road trip this weekend" and then being there less than 48 hours later. Yeah, that's great.

We made our trek to CA Friday night, leaving Mr. Darcy at my mom's house and pulling into Pasadena at a cool 1 am.

Although our experience wasn't as "LA" as T's sister's, who saw Frasier's dad and some other people, we made it work.

Of course, I can't detail how we made it work pictorally because I was such a no0b that I brought one (1) camera with two (2) exhausted batteries.

Therefore, ladies and gents, the highlights:

The food!
The Hollywood sign!
Malibu!
Santa Monica!
Topanga!
Family&Friends!
etcetera!

Vee-Day

I think it was the third day I knew T that I proudly proclaimed that he would be receiving an origami swan for Valentines' Day--and me being the relationship optimist I was, I am pretty sure I prefaced it with "if we were still together."

Well, surprise surprise, we're still together and I still don't know how to fold origami swans, so he certainly didn't get that.

Actually, we never planned on doing anything. We're not hallmark people, we're not into doing things just because everyone else is, and we're certainly not big on spending moneys. That's why I wasn't surprised when we ended up having the perfect Valentine's Day anyway.

T picked me up from school and we went home to our barky beast, took out the trash and then decided on early sushi. So we got 3 pm sushi and it was delish. After that, we got coffee from Sky Bar for FREE with those handy coupons and then walked fourth. We scored some new shwag and then came home where we finished up movies and I punked out on getting drinks at the shelter.

THERE. There's our v-day story. It's done now.

Part 5--Driving Mr. Daisy

T and I culminated our day at Gates Pass. For those of you who do not know, Gates Pass is a thoroughfare through Sahuaro National Forest, connecting Tucson to Old Tucson, a gimmicky Old West town where you pay through the nose to watch fake gunfights and look at cheap souvenirs of rattlesnakes and Native American figurines.

Despite my distate for Old Tucson, this scenic drive shows the unnecessary excess of the Tucson elite, a jaw-dropping Sahuaro forest, and gorgeous canyon and mountain views. I didn't get any pictures because I was driving, but just know that if you ever come to Tucson, drive west on Speedway at sunset and you might have to redefine your definition of "beautiful."

As we drove off into the sunset, I don't know what was going through my mind, probably scenes from driving Miss Daisy with a couple gender reversals thrown in there.

Part 4--In case you didn't know, Tucson actually has a history

For the climax of our Adventure Day 2/5/11, T and I drove 25 minutes south to the Mission San Xavier del Bac. I told him it was for our religious edification, but as it turns out, San Xavier is much more than a church.

You know, in all of my adventures around the globe, a church has never been just a church. Each one has offered me something unique--historical wonders, cultural insight, awe-inspiring beauty, mind-baffling artwork and architecture. But San Xavier had all this and more. Inside and out, the church is glorious. Founded in the 1600s, the art inside the church parallels churches in France and Spain. In the outer courtyard, there is an air of peace and respect. Beyond the walls, though, tents are lined up, serving Indian fry bread and Mexican food. The aromas tempted me, but I withstood such temptations and munched on some 17th Street strawberries instead.

On the eastern side of the church space, there lies a hill. T and I climbed it and discovered the Grotto. In the fence that stood between us and statues of Mary, people had placed scraps of paper on which they wrote prayers and wishes. Facing away from the Grotto, a panorama of the area was available. For me, the most astounding realization of the day was that although I was only 25 minutes away from Tucson, I was in an entirely different world, away from my daily stresses and facing true beauty.

I would love to go back to San Xavier someday. For now, those white walls and panoramic views will live on my blog, my camera, and my thoughts.

Part 3--The Mountains Cage Us In

If El Tiradito offered T and I an opportunity to pay our respects to and show our appreciation for life, our next adventure emphasized how completely insignificant we all are in the grand scheme of things.

Ho, boy. I know what you're thinking. If you're a writer, you're hanging your head in shame because I relied so heavily on a cliche. If you're anyone else, you might be rolling your eyes. Understandable. That is, until you have seen the views of Tucson from "A" Mountain, named for the giant "A" the University of Arizona maintains on what is more formally known as Sentinel Peak.


The top of this overlook provides 360-degree views of the greater Tucson area. From that height, Tucson looks pretty ugly--discolored whites on grey on tan. It looks industrial, it looks like a picture of poor America. And there's a reason: Tucson is largely made up of people who fall below the federal poverty line. But it's the mountains beyond Tucson that really emphasize that there is something more beyond this town; that things look like they suck from the city floor, but from another perspective, beauty surrounds us in the mountains, these amazing, mind-boggling wonders that have existed since before all the money troubles, fights with friends and family, and the daily stress.

Its difficult to write passionately about a pile of rock and it's probably difficult to read about such piles of rock, but these mountains are spectacular. It is in these mountains where I have accomplished physical feats, like last year's 16-mile round-trip hike in Sabino Canyon. I have used these mountains as a personal retreat and they have shown me the beauty that surrounds me. They have given me a respect for nature, a respect for myself.

Part 2--Make a wish, make a prayer

T and I took a time-out from the cultural delights, musical delicacies, and culinary hyperboles of 17th Street Market to take a short, five-minute drive westward to El Tiradito.

Adventure #2: El Tiradito

We stole parking at El Minuto, which, by the way, happens to be a delicious Mexican restaurant revered by many Tucsonans, despite their stringent towing policies.

El Tiradito, the only shrine in American that is dedicated to a sinner buried in unconsecrate ground, sits on a dirt lot with a couple scrawny trees. A contraption holds candles near the back of the lot, crosses point to the sky, standing upright in the dirt, and it appears to be a messy place: paper is strewn around, ashes sit in piles, old flowers lie overturned out of their vase.

What at first glance appears to be rubbish turns out to be very important--burned candles that symbolize the wishes and prayers of visitors, pictures of Gabby Giffords, the former state representative shot in the head in the Tucson shootings last month, as well as bread (symbolizing the body of God, as T astutely pointed out) and a boquet of flowers with a picture of a dog attached to it, Thor written on the bottom of the photo.

Although this place was small, squeezed between two commercial buildings, it provided T and I a chance to quiet ourselves after the excitement of 17th Street Market, a chance to reflect, a chance to recognize how lucky we are.

Particularly that we didn't get towed.

Part 1-- The Girl with Big Eyes, Small Stomach

While most of you were buying your 30-rack Keystones, playing dizzy-ball, and subscribing to ESPN, all in preparation of Super Bowl XLV-something-something, Tim and I were preparing in our very own way.

Adventure #1: 17th Street Market

T and I found ourselves amidst alien foods of all kinds: funny-shaped legumes, brightly packaged foods with some kind of asian script detailing the joys of consuming such specialties, whole fish lying in a display case, ready to be consumed--or gawked at. 

Yes, my friends, this was the 17th Street Market. Aside from stocking more ramen noodle varieties than a college students' pantry, the store houses all sorts of eclectic foods from around the world and also hosts aspiring musicians in one section of the store.

We bought some foodstuffs to aid us in later adventures only to emerge out of this world foods mecca into the sun of one of my most favored delicacies--the food cart. Now before all of your faces get stuck making that look of utter horror and disgust forever, I want you to stop thinking about paramecium and bacteria under those white plastic microscopes your teachers let you look at one time in your freshman biology class and listen.

I was, at one time, just like all of you, skeptical of the validity of the food handler's licenses onboard these cramped culinary carts. But last year, I spring-breaked (yes, that's a verb, my friends) in Portland, OR and used couchsurfing.com to find my lodgings. I ended up staying with several nice, strapping young men in the southeast quarter, one of whom worked at a food cart ten blocks away from the house. The very night of my arrival, I traveled to said cart, had delicious food-cart crepes and food-cart fried pies, and wanted to eat food-cart noodles, breakfast burritos, and Mexican food. Maybe this doesn't help your disgust. To that, I can only say, simmah down!

Okay, so this 17th Street Market food cart, right? It was a tantamount tastery of the tastiest tastings. Tim and I had the Mahi-Mahi fish tacos and the Philly cheesesteak, but there was an array of foods I wanted to eat, of course. Catfish po'boy, bacon cheeseburger, chicken shawarma--the humanity!

Of course, this provided us with the healthy base it took to continue our adventures. Come back for parts 2-5.