An Open Letter to Al D.

Dear Alex,

Last night I had an intense dream about you and Anya, therefore I feel it is my duty to write you this open letter. This morning when I woke up I knew two things for sure. First, I now know what kind of tattoo's I'm going to get (I've wanted a tattoo since I was in the second grade and a guest speaker had one on his arm). That's kind of a strange statement and deserves further explanation which I will give shortly. The second thing I realized this morning was that you and Anya should get married. Before I go into details about that let me explain the whole tattoo comment.

I like tattoos and I've wanted one for over two decades now but I could never think of anything that I wanted carved into my flesh...until now. Nothing ever spoke to me so my skin has remained unbroken, but last night my dream pointed me in the right direction and I woke up with a smile on my face. Alex, last night I had a dream that I was sitting in the crowd at your wedding (why wasn't I a groomsmen?). It was a surprisingly large ceremony and even though I didn't look around I knew it was full of people I knew. Here's where it gets a little strange, I was sitting next to a woman who I assumed I went to the wedding with but I could not turn my head to look at her. The only thing I could do was look up at you and Anya saying your vows (which I could not hear) and I could also look down at my hands. It was while looking down at my hands that I noticed two tattoos on the bottoms of my left and right wrists. On the left wrist was a detailed tattoo of the Moon and on my right wrist was a flickering Sun. After concentrating on my wrists for a while the audience started to clap and I looked up and saw that you and Anya were kissing to loud cheers. I still couldn't look at the woman next to me but she grabbed my hand and I was able to look at her hand. I noticed she had something on her wrists and right as I was about to take a look them I woke up.

Now, being that you're Alex I know you don't really care about the part of my dream that concerns me so I won't keep talking about my tattoos I'm going to get when I come back to Portland for my farewell tour. But I will say this last thing, I also know that Anya, being the wonderful artist she is, is supposed to design my tattoos for me so please let her know (never mind, I'll tell her myself).

Okay, the rest of this blog will be dedicated to you Al. First things first buddy...you're an asshole! I love you like a friend who I'm only friends with because I've known him since the second grade so I'm able to call you an asshole. You were on my mind yesterday when I went to the children's home to set up the whole gift giving for their Christmas morning. As I was talking to some of the staff and saying hello to some of the kids I started thinking about you for some reason. This probably led me to have a dream about you last night actually. I was hanging out and I started wondering why I pretend to be such a Grinch when I know I'm not. Then I started thinking about real life Grinch's that I know and your name kept popping up.

This has nothing to do with the fact that you've destroyed my car which I entrusted you with before I left for Korea. It has nothing to do with the fact you are going to charge me for lodging my car at your place. It also has nothing to do with the fact you will only let me stay with you and Anya for one week when I get back in May. It does have a little bit to do with your refusal to take the clothes I left in my car trunk out for the winter and wash them for me. It may have a lot to do with the fact that Toby, yes Toby, is the person who is going to buy a new battery for my car because you refused to take the five minutes to start it up every so often and the old battery died. It may have a lot to do with the fact that you think it's funny my car "mysteriously" has a flat tire. It may have something to do with the fact that I know, even though you promised to pick me up at the airport in May, something will "come up" and I'll be left to take a taxi to your house. It absolutely has to do with the fact that you went all the way to Italy one year and brought me back a can of "Axis Body Spray...African Scent." I'm use to you mocking my heritage but you gave me a gift from a foreign country that I could have bought at the local drug store. You still think that's funny...it's not...you're an asshole!

What does all this have to do with my dream? Nothing really, I just think it's important for you to hear these things sometimes. Now you and Anya have been dating for a long time my friend. You love her. You've actually learned to love someone besides yourself. For some reason she loves you too. She doesn't just love you though, she likes you. I don't understand it, Toby doesn't understand it, none of us do, but it's the truth. She loves you. Sometimes, when I'm hanging out at your house and you go to the bathroom I quickly turn to Anya and ask her what you have over her that she's stayed with you this long but she always says nothing. I was sure you were blackmailing her but it turns out I was wrong. The only time I really truly like you is when you are directly next to Anya. She actually makes you a likable person. I can't believe I'm about to write this but you two work well together. It just seems right. I love Anya and I'm nervous that she's not going to be around when I get back in town. I mean, come on man. She's smart. She's funny. She's an amazing artist. She's beautiful. She's in tune with her emotions. And for some reason she's been by your side for all this time. She has all these things going for her and yet she's with you Al....she's with you.

Now lets look at you. You're not a good looking man. You're balding. You are not funny...at all. You have no soul. You have no fashion sense what so ever. Where as I am getting better looking the older I get, you just seem to be getting larger...have you seen your hands? They look like Italian sausages for Christ Sake! I'll admit it Al, in your younger days that Italian/German blood flowing through your body made you look like a young Frank Sinatra. But now....well now you look more like an old Jerry Lewis.

I don't want to come off like you don't have any positive attributes though. You play the violin like an angel. It is truly a beautiful thing to witness. I know I'm going to regret saying this but you are also very intelligent. So there it is...you're a smart violin player. Don't say I never gave you any compliments.

Some people reading this might think I'm being mean to someone I call a friend. These people have obviously never met you. I'm writing this to you because I care about you Alex. Do you wanna end up like me and Toby? I think not. Sure I'm handsome, smart, creative, funny, physically superior and humble. Sure Toby is...is...a certified clown, but we are both broken men. We are both broken, alone and old my friend. Toby self medicates and I keep growing beards. It's ugly Alex, it's ugly.

But you, you have the chance at living a beautiful life. It's too late for me and Toby, but not for you. The new year approaches Alex. Grab hold of it. Grab hold of that love you have in your life....and remember, if you guys get married this summer, I can take care of your house while you go on your honeymoon. I will do that for you guys, it will be my wedding gift to you. I'll take care of your place for free. I hope this letter finds you and Anya in good health. I love both of you but I love her more. Please, have my car in working order by the time I get home. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year my friend.

Love,

Chris

Temp and Cheapo (long blog, but worth reading)

I wasn't really planning on writing another blog until the new year but sometimes things happen and you gotta talk about them. I've been keeping to myself a lot lately because I've had a lot on my mind. I'm officially on my vacation now and have been catching up on some much needed sleep and finishing and starting books I've been meaning to get to. It's cold but not nearly as cold as I've heard about back in the US. I miss snow days, there has not been much snow here but the wind has been cold and fearless. I'm finally feeling better and have been going on long jogs to clear my head and get away from things. Not that there is that much to get away from out where I live. When I go on my longer jogs I jog by this place I have nicknamed "the killing fields" because it is full of cages that house different kinds of animals. These animals range from deer to dogs. I'm pretty sure they are being housed to be slaughtered at a later date. The cages are pretty rusty and everything except the deer stay in cages. The deer are kept in more of a pin that has nothing but dirt in it. I've been jogging by this place for the past month and usually try to avoid making eye contact with the animals. Until last week I never actually saw any of the dogs I could just hear them barking loudly, so loud I can hear them over my headphones.

Long story short, I've become the foster parent of a runaway dog. I took an early morning jog yesterday it was cold as shit. I didn't even plan on it being a long jog but I was feeling Forrest Gumpish and just kept running. I ran past the killing fields and it was pretty quiet. Usually, I run a loop and end up back at my apartment, but I decided to just turn around after a while and double back. When I passed the area of the killing fields again there was this light brown dog along the side of the road near the deer. It was looking pretty beaten down and skinny. I didn't stop so much as pause. We made eye contact and it start following along the fenced area as I jogged along. I scanned ahead and saw an opening about a quarter of a mile ahead. Now this dog looked like it was hungry and in a bad mood. It didn't bark at me but it was following me like it wanted to kick my ass. I can't really blame it, I mean, I'm pretty sure this dog was an "eating dog." Most of the dogs in Korea are small but this is a medium sized dog and looks like a cross between a lab and some kind of wolf. Needless to say I was preparing to climb up a tree if I needed to. It kept following me along the fence and then it came to the opening and poked through. I stopped and we looked at each other for a while. I could see it's breath in the air and even though I was warm I knew it was very cold outside. I kind of just stood there for a few seconds to see if it was going to attack me but it just stood near the opening of the fence looking at me breathing out clouds of cold air. I think I may have winked at it and then kept jogging. I looked back and it was walking at a fast pace keeping it's distance but obviously following me. I was a couple miles away from home and I thought it would turn around and make the death march back to the killing fields at some point but this is one smart dog. It stayed with me the entire time. I kept telling myself if it followed me all the way back home I would keep it around and see if anyone wanted a dog where I live. People actually pick up strays all the time at my work place, although it has happened for a while and the dogs are usually a lot smaller. She must have read my mind cause she kept pace right up to my building. I got to entrance of my building and stopped and turned around. There she was, skinny, tired looking down at the ground every once in a while waiting to see what I was going to do. I couldn't' help but smile and walked into my building, she didn't budge. She stayed outside and I thought about taking a nice warm shower and then seeing if she was still there when I got done. I didn't. I went back outside and invited Temp (I named her Temp cause she's temporary) in. She accepted and for the past few days I've been living with a dog.

I've always wanted a dog but never thought I could take care of one the way it needed to be taken care of. Now, I have a dog, at least for a while. I went jogging with Temp today and I was curious if she would run off but she didn't. I decided it wasn't a good idea to jog past the killing fields today though. She's actually looking at me right now as I'm typing this blog and I gotta tell you it's kind of nice being around something that likes you. At least I think she likes me. We're still getting to know each other. Good thing I'm not going any where for the holidays, give me a little bonding time. I've got a couple people in mind who might want to take Temp but they are all on vacation right now. I figure I have a few months to find an appropriate home for her and truth be told I'm not in a hurry to unload her. She sleeps on the couch right now but I wake up at night and she'll be staring at me like she wants to get on the bed but isn't quite comfortable enough yet to make that leap. It's kind of funny. I can't blame her. I'm probably the first black person she's ever seen plus my Korean isn't that great. I gotta find out Korean commands and sayings for dogs.

BUT I DID NOT DECIDE TO WRITE A BLOG BECAUSE I'M HOUSING A DOG AT THE MOMENT...

I decided to write a new blog because I met a woman today who is the definition of life. I'm still in awe actually from her story and her overall energy. I went into Seoul today to buy some refried beans at this foreign market I like to go to. I finished all my shopping and had about an hour to kill before the bus came to take me back to where I live. I decided to go into a coffee shop and read a book I brought with me. I don't drink coffee and I don't really drink tea so I ordered a hot chocolate. I had forgot how right it feels to drink hot chocolate on a cold day. I settled down in my chair and started the last chapter of "Anansi Boys" by Neil Gaiman. I'm a very observant person but lately I've developed the ability to go deep inside of my own world and I was zoned out in the coffee shop reading this book. I don't know how long she was standing there talking to me but it must have been at least ten seconds. I looked up and standing over me was this midnight skinned woman with tightly braided hair. She repeated the title of the book I was reading but I didn't understand what she was saying until she pointed to the book itself and said "Anansi, that's African." Being that my personal bubble had just been burst I was a little slow and said something like, "yeah, it's a good book." She laughed and asked if she could sit down while she waited for David. Two things came across my mind at this point. The first was that she had an accent which sounded like a combination of French and Spanish, the second thing I thought was who the hell is David. She said David like I knew who David was and it was at this moment that I realized she is one of those people who has the ability to talk to anyone at anytime. I politely folded my book pages together and said "sure." She sat and I asked her who David was. David is her fiancee from Canada. She is from the Republic of Congo and has been living in South Korea for over 4 years now. It took everything I had not to mimic her voice. I love accents! She met David last year at some convention in Seoul. Her name is Cheapo. I know I didn't spell it right but that's what it sounds like. As soon as she shared this information with me in the first minute she sat down I knew I would not be opening my book again in that coffee shop. She looked at me for a while and didn't say anything, so I looked at her too. I noticed she had a deep scar down the middle of her forehead. It didn't take away from her features one bit though. Cheapo is really striking actually. Her skin is flawless and shines a deep black. She has one of those faces that could be 20 or 40 something. I gathered later in the conversation that she had to be in her 40's. Cheapo has the body of a long distance runner. She has the kind of smile I've always wanted. Her teeth are perfect, so perfect they look fake actually. Against the color of her skin those teeth demand your attention when her mouth opens.

She was talking with that wonderful accent for a few minutes and then she said, "Why are you so sad?" It took me a while to register the question. It seems that even drinking hot chocolate in a coffee shop while reading a book I emit a energy of sadness to complete strangers. I opened my mouth to answer but she didn't moved on and followed up with "you look like my younger brother James...he's dead." I could feel the energy at the table shift instantly and I realized that although I had been listening to her talk for a while I wasn't really hearing what she was saying. Now I started to hear her. I waited and then asked her about her brother. To my own surprise I didn't say "oh I'm sorry" which would be my standard response to information like that. I just said "when?" But sometimes the shortest questions get the longest answers. I think Cheapo sat down with me because I reminded her of her brother who she loved deeply and misses every day of her life. I'm sure the holidays don't help. James was murdered in front of Cheapo five years ago in Congo. I got the impression that the man who killed Cheapo brother James killed her innocence right after that.

There's this moment when people are telling you true stories of horror when you can respond with a gasp or look away. I'm pretty sure Cheapo was looking into my eyes waiting for this moment. That moment didn't' come and she kept on talking. Again, I have to give credit to my graduate school professor Isbel Ingham. It sounds so strange but she taught her class or at least she tried to teach her class how to listen to peoples stories. If you really listen and hear what people are telling you the world becomes so much bigger. It's amazing. So Cheapo kept talking and her story was heart breaking. She didn't cry until she started talking about my ears. I know that sounds strange but I guess James had small ears too. I don't' think about my ears much but she asked to touch them and I didn't feel it was something I could refuse. She started to cry but didn't' make a sound. The tears just rolled down her face leaving a glassy trail. She wasn't embarrassed by the tears and she didn't apologize like most people would have. Cheapo has the heart of a lion. She is strong beyond measure. I noticed that her tears didn't leave a shadow of salt like mine do. They just seemed to dry and evaporate leaving no hint of their existence.

I wondered why my ears had sparked tears from her eyes and she spoke like she read my mind. Cheapo had raised her younger brother since he was a baby and she used to stroke his ears when he was a boy to calm him. I have to admit, when she stroked my ears there was something calming about the action. So James had been murdered in front of Cheapo and she had been violated like she was not a part of the human race. But she still smiles and she still jokes around. She still sits down and talks to complete strangers at a coffee shop. Her trust in humanity has not been broken. Cheapo is the reason I have so many female friends. Women are so much stronger than men (my personal opinion). I felt this need to apologize to her for the cruelty that happened to her back in the Congo. I didn't. I just smiled and told her she should write about her experiences. That's what she's going to do when she moves to Canada with David. She's excited about going back to school and it is at this moment when she repeats her original question to me. "Why are you so sad" she says. At first, I thought she was making fun of me like she was daring me to talk about my life after sharing a bit of her world with me. But when I looked into her eyes I realized she was serious and genuinely wanted to know what my deal was. I told her that I didn't really FEEL sad but that I've been giving off this sad vibe for a while now. She didn't say anything, she was listening to me now but I didn't really have much to say. She waited and I didn't say anything. She started to smile and I felt like this must be what it's like to have a sister.

She held both her hand out to me like she wanted me to take them. But then she motioned for me to put my hands out like hers were with the palms up. It was at this moment that Canadian Dave walked into the shop with a "what the hell is going on" look on his face. Dave is about six feet tall and the exact opposite of Cheapo in appearance. He has deep green eyes and sandy blond hair. His skin is looks like it hasn't seen the sun in a long time. But they have the same smile. They look good together. He sees me with my palms up and he rolls his eyes saying "Oh, watch out, she's about to read your future." Cheapo smiles and they kiss. Introductions are made and Dave excuses himself to order a coffee. Cheapo smiles and then tells me that she's not going to "read my future" she's just going to "see" what's going on in my life.

I have this strange fear of palm readers, star readers, card readers all of that stuff. I feel like they are going to flip a card or look at a line on my palms and tell me I'm a dead man in a week. But, I decided to let Cheapo do her thing. She started looking at my hands. Squeezing them and holding them every once in a while. David returned and I looked at him but he put one finger over his lips and sat back to watch the show. Cheapo asked when my birthday was and a couple other formal questions. Then she looked at me and said "you have a deep sadness in you that started before your mother gave birth to you." She said I experienced a loss before I was even born. This sent a chill through my entire body and I started to take her a little bit more seriously. She told me I had the spirit of a healer. I shot David a look and he seemed more interested in what she was saying too. She told me that I don't embrace my natural talents enough and that it's time to embrace them wholly. She told me I was "bursting with love" which made me giggle inside and it was again like she read my mind because she said "I'm serious, you're bursting with it." I looked at David and he just hunched his shoulders up. She ended my palm reading by telling me to give "the fear" a big hug and a kiss the next time I see it and it won't be fear any more. I took this to mean I was going to die soon. Just kidding, I actually don't know what she was talking about but I'm sure I'll come up with some theories later (which will all involve me dying I'm sure).

All in all, it was a good day and it's been an interesting week. I have a temporary dog and I got my palms read. I also met a really decent human being who shared a part of herself with me that I will never forget and am very thankful for.

Today I am reminded of this passage from an Eckhart Tolle book I read. It says something like "Nothing has ever happened in the past that can prevent you from being present now; and if the past cannot prevent you from being present now, what power does it have?"

I think I'm engaged!!!

Tonight I had dinner at my friends parents house. I made the mistake of telling Jo Young I wasn't feeling well yesterday after work and he insisted that I come into Seoul with him on Saturday for dinner with his family. So tonight I ate with Jo Young, his mother, his father, his grandmother, his younger brother, his two sisters, and some woman who seemed lost. This is obviously my the week of awkward events because this dinner was awkward as hell. It was also one of the most entertaining nights I've had in a long time. So when Koreans eat they eat. It's a freaking spread man. That table was full of soups, meats, veggies, fruits, dried fish, booze and of course cakes. Being that I don't feel that great I tried to stick to the soup but momma Young was not having it. I'm pretty sure papa Young was talking shit about me when I attempted to politely refuse the booze. I looked a Jo and he made his eyes real big which I took to mean "just drink the damn soju!" So I did. Papa Young didn't know who he was messing around with. Let's just say when I left I had a slight buzz but papa Young was sloppy...it was sad!

Truth be told I feel a hell of a lot better. The English at the table was okay, at least among the younger crowd but my interactions with the older folks consisted of smiles, a few winks, grandma young touching the hair on my arms and the strange lost lady staring at me like I killed her cat. I had a special Korean soup (the name escapes me) that was made "especially" for me to cure my sickness. As I drank this broth mama Young looked at me triumphantly. Seriously, it was a look of great pride on this woman's face.

I'm not pretending like I know the ins and outs of Korean culture. I think I would have to be here for at least 5 years before I started to really understand things but I'm pretty sure I violated some serious rules tonight. Before I go into that let me explain something a little further. I'm not one of those people who goes to a foreign country or becomes friends with people from different cultures and then starts acting like they know everything about the people. The truth of the matter is I will never really know what it's like to be Korean or have an understanding of the culture the way Koreans do. All I can do is be open to this experience and learn the lessons that are being taught to me. I think it's kind of ridiculous when people start acting like they wrote the book. I'm a little frustrated right now because this person who works at my school started arguing with the Koreans about what it's like to be Korean. I was about 2 seconds aways from telling him to shut the fuck up when he got upset and walked out of the computer lab. Total side story. Back to my dinner.

So Jo's younger sisters are both in college studying art. Their stuff is all over the house actually and they seem to have some real talent, in particular with paper crafts. Again, I don't pretend to be an expert on Korean culture but I'm pretty sure I'm engaged to Jo's younger sister now. I don't really know how it happened or what I said exactly but I'm gonna have to talk to Jo on Monday and let him know that the kid is not available for marriage!

Here's what happened. Papa Young was getting drunk off the soju and I was feeling loose. Mama Young was bothering Jo about being single and Jo was deflecting on to me. Kim, one of Jo's sisters who has really good English started chatting me up. I mentioned that I liked this paper lamp they had in their house and she blushed. I looked at Jo like "what the fuck is going on?" and Jo just sat there oblivious. Kim then said something in Korean to her sister and they started giggling. Whenever I hear Korean women giggling after looking at me I assume I'm being compared to something I probably don't wanna be compared to. But the night went on, dishes start to get cleared and here's where I think I really messed up. I got up and started to help and I took my dish, Kim's dish and Cho's dish (Cho was the other sister).

Now the look on Jo's face told me I fucked up. Mama Young had a look on her face like I just urinated all over the table and papa Young started laughing like a mad man. I think it was the laughter that saved me cause the other people at the table started laughing. Mama Young slapped my hands from the dishes while shaking her head but the look on Kim's face was one of amazement. I got the impression that a man has never tried to clear her dish for her and I also got the impression I had accidentally shown some kind of interests in her.

Anybody who knows me knows that I am clueless when it comes to a girl liking me. I'm sure my ex-girlfriends might say I'm also clueless when it comes to a girl not liking me too but that's not what I'm talking about right now. When it was time for me to leave and I was saying good-bye Kim comes up to me with the lamp I had admired in her hand. The room grew quiet and Jo looked as confused as I'm sure I did. She told me to take the lamp and I started to refuse but the look on the rest of her families face told me I should just take the lamp, bow and say thank you. I thought about asking Jo how to say "You don't want anything to do with me I'm a broken man" in Korean but I didn't. It's a nice lamp but I think it means I'm now engaged to Kim. I have no desire to marry and I will flee the country in the dead of night if I have to. The fact that Kim looks like she's 13 years old doesn't really help either. Oh Korea.

Now that my time in this country is winding down I want to hang out with some of the Korean friends I've made during my time here but if I accidentally get engaged every time I go to a family dinner this is going to be a long 5 months.

A jumble of information

You wanna know what strange is? Strange is sitting on the couch in your own apartment watching a movie at night. But you're not sitting on the couch by yourself, you're sitting on your couch between (that's right...in the middle of) two people who have the hots for each other. These two people have the hots for each other but are way too shy to do anything about it at the moment so you sit there, on your couch, pretending like Fred Claus is an interesting film. Did you wanna watch Fred Claus? No. Did Jessica want to watch Fred Claus? Not really, but she thought Jerry might enjoy it. Has Jerry ever heard of Fred Claus? No. Jerry is Korean and has told you on more than one occasion that he does not watch many American movies. Jessica is from the great state of Tennessee and thinks Jerry is "hot." Jerry is from Gangjin in Jeollanam-do Province. Jerry grew us near a temple making ceramics during his youth and lived in New York for one year during high school. Jerry likes Jessica's nose and her voice. Jerry is also a double black belt in Taekwondo and has been showing Chris some pretty bad ass moves when they go to the gym together. Chris got over confident once with Jerry who is only about 5 feet 6 inches tall but managed to kick Chris in the head. Chris had to tell Jerry that sudden blows to his head could actually kill him. Jerry now only punches Chris in the chest and the stomach when they practice together. Jerry likes Jessica and Jessica likes Jerry whose Korean name is Park Su Bin. Chris is friends with both Jerry and Jessica and that's how Chris ended up spending a very long night in between Jerry and Jessica watching a very bad movie starring Vince Vaughn. Chris told Jerry to get over his Korean shyness and ask Jessica to dinner because there were not going to be any more awkward movie nights at Chris's place. Chris also told Jessica to stop waiting for Jerry to ask her out and ask him if he would like to do something during the weekend. Chris has no love life and gets an odd sense of satisfaction when meddling in the lives of others. Chris will now stop typing like this.

So I got sick again last night. I had a fever and spent most of my night hot and then cold. The thing about my most recent colds is that they do not last very long at all. some only last about a day or so but they come about every two weeks which makes me think that perhaps I'm dying. I have spent way to many nights lately not sleeping and I believe I may be on the verge of a break down. I have worked for 8 days in a row and I am very very tired. This past Sunday I tried to self medicate with Sangria that I made for the Thanksgiving Celebration we all had. I got my hosting skills from my dad which basically means that I never sit down and I'm always making sure everyone has what they need. This resulted in me eating half a plate of food all night while being entertaining as all hell. My room had Sangria and desserts in it. There was a huge cheesecake on my dining room table and I did not get so much as a crumb. Those of you who know my love affair with cheesecake know that me not eating cheesecake when it's available is like ham with no burger! I waited for everyone to leave and then I cried and cried.

My friends wife who I spoke about in the last blog ended up having to go back to the emergency the next night and has since been in the hospital having a series of test run on her. They find out tomorrow if she is going to need to have one or both of her ovaries removed due to damage. When I spoke with her she started crying because even though she didn't think she wanted to have children she does not want that option taken away from her. She is 25 years old going on 50. I really hope she doesn't have to get her ovaries removed. The messed up thing is that having them removed wouldn't guarantee the pain would stop. They are good people and I'm hoping it all works out.

My last little rant will be on the subject of Jesus. Apparently I say Jesus all the time. I say "Jesus" when I'm annoyed. I say "Jesus" when I'm surprised. I say "Jesus" when I'm shocked. Jesus is my word of choice. I've had two South Africans question me on my word usage and I've come to this decision. I have put in the time, the sweat, the blood and the tears to be able to use the word "Jesus" any fucking way I want! Here's the thing, I grew up Catholic. I was an alter boy, I had religion class and I studied that bible and those teachings. Even though I am not a religious man I still remember a lot of what I read because they are pretty good stories. They grab your attention...it's a good read. So after I was told that I shouldn't say "Jesus" I decided to inquire as to why? I didn't get any good answers though. Some people say that you "shouldn't take the Lords name in vain" but I say go fuck yourself. Me saying "Jesus" has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.

When I was a young lad I remember asking questions in religion class and getting shut down quickly by the teachers. I always had a problem with this image of a God or a Jesus that was so damn angry about everything. "Don't say my name in vain bitches!" I guess I just started questioning the messages I was getting from these human beings about something that should be personal and individual. I was thinking like this at the age of 10. That whole experience resulted in the man you see before you today. A man who uses the word "Jesus" as a verb and a noun and a man who doesn't think "a God" or even "a Gods Son" would ever want to prevent two men or two women from dedicating their lives together under the bond of marriage and love.

3 AM phone call...

I was sleeping like a baby last night. For the first time in a long time I managed to go to bed before eleven at night and I'm pretty sure I would have slept the whole night through...but, the universe had other plans for me.

First things first, nobody and I mean nobody should have to wake up to the ring setting I have on my piece of shit cell phone. So when it rang at 3 in the morning I made a promise to myself to find one of my Korean friends and change that horrible horrible ring. It took me a while to focus before I could find the phone in the cold darkness of my bedroom. Korean phones ring forever by the way, the just ring and ring and ring. I finally found it and answered in a surprisingly calm voice.

At three in the morning when your phone rings one has three expectations. The first is that a drunk friend has decided they want to tell you about their night and share all the funny things that are only really funny if you were there and drunk yourself. The second possibility is that a family member was calling me to let me know that something very tragic had taken place and I was going to need to hop on a plane and fly back to the states for the worse day of my life. The third possibility is that someone, be they friend or acquaintance has decided they are in need of some sexual release and you would be just the person to help them achieve that. So which three in the morning phone call did I get? None of the above, now I have a forth expectation to add to my list of late night phone calls.

Some background information. Every month my work shift changes. This month I am working weekends there for my days off are on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. This means I work two 12 hour shifts on Friday and Saturday and then 9-5 on Sunday and 1-9 on Monday...it's really one of the crappiest shifts you can get and I volunteered for it because my good buddy wanted to hang out a lot this month. This also means that for December when my shift returns to Monday through Friday 1-9 that I will have to work 8 days in a row because the new shift begins next Monday giving me no days off until the following Friday.

Recently, as in last week, my good buddies dad had two heart-attacks in one day. Luck for him he had the second heart attack in the hospital. Both my friends parents live in Korea so he was able to talk to some people pretty quickly on the phone. However, he was unable to go and visit his dad until this week. I guess, in Korea you can only see your family member for ten minutes every two hours and his dad lives about four hours away. So he headed south to go check on his dad this Monday and gets back today.

What does all of this have to do with my late night phone call. I'm getting there, calm down. The late night phone call was from my friends wife who stayed here because she has tutoring jobs. She also has a little thing called Endometriosis. I guess the short definition for endometriosis is that it tissue which is usually found in the uterus grows outside the uterus causing great great pain during the menstrual cycle. I'm pretty sure I butchered that definition but it affects women and from what I witnessed last night it is some of the most painful shit around. As a man I guess you could imagine it like this...if your balls swelled to the size of oranges and then were squeezed and twisted slowly over the period of an entire week that would be somewhere in the ball park of endometriosis. I will now give you a moment to process that.....

So she called me because we are friends and her husband is out of town. She needed a ride to the hospital which is about a ten minute car ride from where we all live. I could hear the pain in her voice between all the crying. It's one thing to be woken up by a fucked up cell phone ring, it's another thing all together to answer that phone and hear cries of pain on the other line. So I quickly got dressed and ran down to their apartment where I found her curled up into a little ball on their floor. She had hot tears running down her face and for a moment I thought I was going to shit myself.

My friends wife is just over 5'10 and doesn't weigh very much at all. She has a thick southern accent and swears like a sailor when she is feeling good so you can imagine the words coming out of her mouth when I arrived there. Apparently she had just gotten her hair dyed because what used to be very short blonde hair on her head was now very brown short hair on her head. So naturally, when I walk into someone apartment late at night and see them crying in pain on the floor the first thing out of my mouth is "Oh, wow, you dyed your hair?" This didn't go over to well and I was called some things I had to look up in the dictionary.

So, I bent down, picked her up and started the to take her down to their car. Lucky for us, my buddy took a cab ride to the train station and left their car in the parking lot. Unlucky for me their car is a stick shift! "Fuck! I knew not learning how to drive a stick shift was going to come back to bite me on the ass one day."

So we made it down to the car and her pain was obviously unbearable at this point. Since she called me all those new names after asking about her hair there was no way I was going to tell her I did not know how to drive a stick shift. We got in the car, she was still crying and hunched over and I was thinking about shedding some tears myself. I was honestly afraid of what this woman would do to me if I didn't get this car started and moving soon. Their car is the size of a golf cart by the way and falling apart. I am responsible for breaking the passenger side door. A little over a month ago we went to the grocery mart and I went to open the door ripping the handle off accidentally and forever making it so that the passenger door had to be opened on the inside.

So, I knew I had about two tries to start this fucking car before she realized something was wrong with me and not the car. My stick shift driving lessons consist of three people. The first would be my father. We tried it maybe one hour in some parking lot when I was 15 years old. I barely remember the experience but I remember the look on my dads face which said something like..."Hmmmm, is this really my kid?" The second time took place in Montana a little over a year and a half ago with my friend Sara, we were in the backwoods somewhere and she decided to give me the wheel and I did pretty good. I felt like a small child whose mother was "oh so proud" of them but it worked up my confidence. The third time was with Danielle's Toyota (I think it was a Toyota) that she owned for few month's. This thing was a car and that's it. It could do nothing else but move. This car is responsible for the hottest road trip I have ever taken in my life. A little tip for those of you planning on driving from Oregon to Montana in the summer..."make sure your car has air-conditioning!" It was so hot in that car I started speaking Swahili!

Anyways, I took all of these experiences and I put it into last night. She needed me and I needed to come through. Not only did I get that bad boy started the first time but I reversed without stalling and got us to the hospital without incident. Unfortunately for me I parked the car on a down slope that needed to be backed out of to leave.

We got to the hospital emergency room and explained what was going on. My friend called to see if everything was okay and since his Korean is good he talked to the nurse and the doctor. She got some blood taken, they took some x-rays (I'm not sure why?) and then they gave her some medication for the pain and brought us both back to a room with two hospital beds in it. It was at this point I realized we were going to be here for a while. I didn't think to bring a book or even my ipod. The drugs must have kicked in pretty quick with her because that thick ass Southern accent was slurring a bit and her tear subsided some. She still looked like she was in pain but more manageable pain. She had been holding my hand for most of the night and finally let go about half an hour after taking the drugs.

Lucky for me my hand had been conditioned for extreme pressures by my dad. At a young age my dad thought it was funny to shake my brothers and my hand as hard as he could rolling the bones in our hands against themselves in the process. I'd be lying if I said I don't now find myself doing this to young children. The cycle continues!

So she let go of my hand and we talked. We talked and we talked and we talked. The whole time I thought for sure she was going to close her eyes and fall asleep but it never happened. We just talked all night and waited for the green light to leave. When you have someone who is in so much pain ask you if you are alright then you know somethings wrong. She kept asking me if I was okay and told me that I seemed "hurt" lately. I told her I was fine, made a well placed joke and then tried to change the subject but her southern ass was having none of it. I don't know if it was because she was high or what but she called me out pretty good. She told me that she looks at me when I don't realize it sometimes and she can tell that I'm "heart-sick". Even when I'm laughing. Then she made this killer statement to me. She said "I may have scar tissue on my fallopian tubes but I think you have scar tissue around your heart." I gave her a friendly "shut up" and "go to bed" and she just smiled and finally closed her eyes. I don't really think she went to sleep I think she was just giving me space to think.

We got back to the apartments around 7am this morning and I went back to sleep. I woke up a little while ago and felt the need to write so that's what I'm doing. It's Thanksgiving day here in Korea and I have a lot to be thankful for. I hope all of you have a wonderful Thanksgiving day and weekend. Be safe and have fun.

Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.

Man...this week has been crap. You ever been doing really well or at least you think you're doing really well and then reality checks your ass to the floor? That's what happened to me. Luckily I have some really good friends who I can talk to about stuff though. I feel like a lump of the leg of a bug that is sitting on the lump of a log. I had another rough nights sleep last night and I awoke with a certainty in my heart. But what I didn't realize was that the certainty in my heart had nothing to do with the person I thought it had to do with. Unfortunately for me I didn't figure that out until I made an ass of myself via the email. God, I'm 32 years old and sometimes I still act like a fucking child...and yet I'm still so damn charming! I've got a lot of work to do on myself and I think my little break down was pretty good for me. It's important to admit when you weak sometimes and it's important to admit when you're wrong and I was just flat the fuck out wrong.

I think hanging out with all these new people in my life here has been really good for me, but sometimes when I see how happy the couples are I feel a little ache in my heart. I'm not trying to have a pity party for myself I'm just being honest. I've been having such a good time with my friends that I was a little taken back at the sudden feeling of sadness I felt a few days ago. I don't' like to leave things unsaid and I'm starting to realize that's just how it's going to be. I need to accept this and not lash out like a little boy.

My long time friend from college really helped me put some things into perspective about an hour ago. I called her and she has a way of talking to me about things that helps me to reflect on my own shit. I think I was feeling pretty sorry for myself when I began the conversation and by the time I got off the phone I was okay. I'm just a dude who tries to do the right thing and fucks up on occasion. That's life. I've got time and I need to take that time.

Right after I got off the phone with my one friend another friend skypes me and tells me that her high school buddy just died of brain cancer. He was just married eight month's ago to her other high school friend. As if my other friends little talk didn't put some things into perspective this conversation with her sealed it into place.

Now, my own death issues aside, the fact is that life on this planet is finite. Worrying and feeling sorry for yourself is just taking up time you could be spending having fun and growing into a healthy member of the human race. I shouldn't cry because somethings over I should smile because it happened.

Can't Sleep

I have been having the hardest time sleeping lately. I lay in my bed tossing and turning looking around my room with eyes that have adjusted to the dark. Late last week I was having a particularly difficult time falling asleep and I ended up staying awake all night. My brain was overloaded with...crap. I could not stop thinking. I mean it, I thought about everything. I thought about my entire life. EVERYTHING! It was something else and I'm still a little messed up by it. I had to work a 12 hour day too so needless to say my day kind of sucked. If you lay in your bed for long enough, listening to the sound of your own breathing, you can't help but think about your life. All the choices you made, all the choices you didn't make. If you're cursed with a good memory it can be even more maddening. I'm jealous of those of you who have horrible memories. I think having a bad memory might be some kind of self-defense mechanism I don't have. I think if you have a bad memory it's easier to go through life.

But, I also think people with bad memories are just naturally selfish...but they also might be happier. Think about it, you can go through life, make really bad choices or do really fucked up shit to other people but in time you'll forget all about it. The only problem is that you lose stories in the process and I wouldn't give up any of my stories for all the money in the world. Even the ones where I come out looking like a total asshole and deservedly so.

So my mind has been racing because I just don't know what it is I want to do. I was offered a job last week. Administration (as their known) called me into their office or rather her office. I have no idea what her name is but she started talking to me like we were old friends. She was on the phone when I arrived at her office and she motioned for me to sit down. After about ten minutes of listening to a conversation in Korean I turned my Ipod on and put my headphones on. After another five minutes she finished her phone conversation and I was kind of annoyed.

She asked me what my plans were for after my new contract extension was over. I told her that I planned on going back to the U.S. for the summer and then figuring out what I wanted to do in September. She cut right to the chase. She asked me if I wanted to stay at my current job and accept a new position they were creating. It just so happens that this position required training that was going to start that Thursday and last for four weeks.

This training would basically certify me to teach English internationally. But I would have to sign another year contract and I would work only with Korean adult English teachers. I would also be making almost double what I make now. It's that double part that got me to raise an eyebrow. That's a lot of money that I don't have to pay taxes on with very little expenses. That's a lot of money I could save. But...I don't want to be a teacher. I don't want to teach. I'm not really in love with Korea. They wanted an answer right then and there. I had no time to think about it. That's kind of how this entire country works. It was a good job offer. But I need to come home for the summer. I need to see my friends and hang out with my family for a while. I'd like to hold my nieces hand and explain to her why Batman is the coolest superhero ever created.

I declined the offer and suggested a friend of mine who works with me. To my surprise they took my suggestion seriously (this rarely happens) and she started training last Thursday. But here's the fucked up thing, they offered her a lot less than they offered me. I told her to ask for more money after she told me what they wanted to give her to resign. People need to get over this whole men should be paid more than women bullshit. Truth be told, she's more qualified for that job than I am anyways. She's got a teaching degree for starters and I will never give a fuck about present progressive.

I think this has been weighing on me heavily because I know the economy is going to be shitty for a while back in the U.S. and the odds of me finding a job that allows me to live isn't very likely. I'm probably going to have to come back overseas in September of next year but that was the other main reason I didn't' take the job. They were only going to let me go home for one month and that month would have been the middle of June to the middle of July. I told them I needed all three months back home. It's going to take me three months to get sick of everybody and want to leave again.

This is just a little bit of what I think about when I can't sleep at night. I think about all that fucking money I just pissed away. But I can't work a job that I don't like and that job sounded horribly boring. But...I do like having money. It's nice to be able to, you know, eat.

My summer is looking better and better by the way. Just heard from my old college roommate. Which means I have yet another state to go and visit during my 90 days of probation back in the states. Colorado. It's been a while and I actually miss the the place. Here's what I figured out about my plans when I'm done here. I'm either going to move to L.A. (in which case I will become famous), I'm going to move to Chicago (in which case I will only be a six hour train ride from my birth place), I'm going to stay in Portland (in which case I'll kill Alex for destroying my car)or I'm going to go international again (South America, U.A.E, or somewhere in Asia).

Okay enough about that. Topic change. I had to go out to dinner with one of my friends and this guy who she's seeing because he wanted to meet me. It was probably the most entertaining evening I've had in a long time. This dude basically wanted to know if I was a weasel who was trying to get with his girlfriend. By the end of the night I was pretty sure he had a crush on me. Damn I'm charming! I can understand where he was coming from though. There's nothing worse than a weaselly ass dude who pretends to be something else. I think all his fears were put to rest after she told him I went for manicures with her and the rest of "the girls." He kind of gave me a sideways glance and I just raised my shoulders up a little like "whatever."

I have some how managed to befriend every married, engaged and non-single woman at my work place. I have single friends too, but most of them are taken. Which means, I'm a sounding board, which I don't really mind. Sometimes I wonder if I should have been born a female. Yeah, I just wrote that shit! I'll write it again fuckers! SOMETIMES I WONDER IF I SHOULD HAVE BEEN BORN A FEMALE...but then I realize that the reason I get along so well with women is because I'm a guy. I'm just a girls guy. I'm a dude who enjoys the company of women more than men. One of my friends recently told me that if I was a little bit more of a dick I'd be real hot shit.

First of all, I am a dick. Secondly, what the fuck? I am so sick of that whole women like assholes thing...but sometimes, it's true. But, I think I'm too old for those kind of games. Again, I don't really know what I want but I know what I don't want. I don't want to be with someone who can't be honest with me even when it's something I might not wanna hear. Here's what I've realized in my old age. There's "not telling the truth" and there's "not being honest." I think not being honest is way worse than not telling the truth. Not telling the truth is something you do when you're panicked. It's a heat of the moment impulse to save yourself or to get out of a tense situation with a lie. But then there's being dishonest. Being dishonest takes skill. Being dishonest is a character flaw rather than a moment of weakness. Being dishonest takes away a piece of your grace and no good ever comes from it. Being dishonest stays with you for a long long time.

Lastly, I'd like to send a message to a few of my single lady friends, you know who you are. There is nothing wrong with being single. Right? Being single can be fun and it gives you a chance to really get to know yourself. Who you are as a solo artist...without the band making all that noise behind you right? Lois was Lois before Superman came around and she'll continue to be Lois after he flies away. Okay, I'm not gonna lie, that was a secret message to someone, but my point is this...all of you are wonderful people. As long as you stay true to yourself, you can't go wrong...and I'm not just saying this because I'm going to be homeless when I get back and need a couch to crash on.