Monthly Archives: April 2006

Lee’s meme and other random stuff

This weekend went by all too quickly and was weirdly divided with gorgeous, sunny weather approaching the 70’s on Friday quickly followed by cold winds, rain, and chilly temps on Saturday. I went rollerblading for the first time in two years on Friday. . . my legs are still sore. ๐Ÿ˜› Went with a classmate, C., to Green Lake–quintessential Seattle. (K. & N., I will have to take you there in a few weeks–it’s coming soon!!!) Later, we joined some other Evans people at Ozzie’s for karaoke. Did I sing? That would be a no. I didn’t sing, because I wasn’t feeling the crowd (most of my friends had elected to skip this event, so I was left with people that I see most days but rarely venture into conversations deeper than “Are you done with this computer?” in the Evans lab), and I was also not drinking. Still on a hiatus from inebriation (soon to be rectified with the upcoming mini-gathering).

Spent a lot of time downtown on Saturday. Met up with AAAW people for a teen event. Lunch at Todai, lots of discussion about the mini-gathering, played some DDR at Gameworks with T. Did some shopping with T. later on, which mostly consisted of me looking longingly at shoes, but buying little (flip-flops at Old Navy–2 for $5, can’t beat that). And we spent a good 20 minutes in BCBG drooling over spring dresses. I completed the day by hanging out with R.S., who I haven’t seen in forever, and watching “Stick It,” a movie that undeniably sucked. (I’m not afraid to admit that I loved the campiness of “Bring It On.” But “Stick It” [same writer] was far, far inferior. I don’t think it’s even worth Netflix-ing.)

I have to write a group memo about the L.A. sanitation (we can’t believe that we’re in grad school talking about trash) department, so I spent a good portion of today trying to get that started. I thought I was being a slacker by reading the case right before our group met, but it turned out that K. showed up 30 minutes late (having not read the case) and N. showed up having read the wrong case and also painfully hung over & nauseous from the previous evening’s festivities.

Yup, that’s my foot at the bottom of the photo in last week’s post. Puka, you’re right, I’m an open-toe sandal kind of woman. ๐Ÿ˜‰

Am currently procrastinating on a slew of things both school-related and personal-life-related. So here’s Lee’s meme (sorry it took me over a week!):

Four people you’d like to meet and the questions you’d ask them:
1. ์–ด๋จธ๋‹ˆ, my birth mother–Did you ever dream about me the way I dreamt about you?
2. My birth father–Why were you such a !%#$@!@# to our family?
3. My foster mother–What was I like as a 2-month–10-month-old?
4. My future life partner–Where the hell have you been?

Four monuments you have seen and would like to see again:
1. La Tour Eiffel
2. ์„œ์šธ ํƒ€์›Œ–Seoul Tower
3. Golden Gate Bridge (would like to walk across it this time)
4. Benh Thanh Market in Saigon (not sure if this counts as a “monument”)

Four favorite words:
1. “blumptuous” (T.B. knows what I’m talking about)
2. ๋งœ์žˆ์–ด์š”
3. รผber-_____
4. anything with hand-gesture quotation marks (rabbit-ears) surrounding it

Four cities with delicious food:
1. ์„œ์šธ–Seoul
2. Portland, OR
3. Kansas City (bbq compares to none)
4. Hong Kong

Four (fiction/nonfiction) books you would recommend:
**This list has not changed this year…..I need to fix that. Soon.
1. What’s the Matter With Kansas? by Thomas Frank
2. White Teeth by Zadie Smith
3. Asian American Dreams by Helen Zia
4. Somebody’s Daughter by Marie My—hahahaha, just kidding!!! ๐Ÿ˜‰

Four jobs you’ve had:
1. Pharmacy drone
2. Baby-sitter
3. Insurance agency drone
4. Mortgage lending drone (#3 and #4 were for the same wretched bank in Leawood, KS)

Four quick answers:
1. Insomnia–is sometimes when I do my best thinking
2. Allergies–the bane of my existence
3. Road Rage–Boston, MA (Mass-hole drivers)
4. Daydreams–keep me entertained on the bus

Laundry is beeping. Might go to Sweden this weekend . . . . I’ll let you know if I do.

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What a great weekend

I can’t be effusive enough about this past weekend . . . . It was so nice to see old friends (all of whom I hadn’t seen since before I left for Korea), and participating in P. & P.’s wedding was a blast. Exhausting, but well-worth it.

***I met P.C. (the bride) when I was a senior in high school visiting Creighton. My parents and I wanted to look at a dorm room, so we flagged down P.C. while walking outside, because she seemed friendly. It turned out that she didn’t live on campus, but she had friends who did, so she took us to J.’s (matron of honor) room. When I came to Creighton as a freshman, we became friends, and I ended up joining her sorority. She was my big sis (and properly spoiled me during big sis/little sis week), and during that spring of my freshman year, she went on a spring break service trip where she met P.J. (the groom). As my big sis, P.C. needed to choose a “big brother” for me. Now, normally “big brother” night for Pi Phis is an excuse for the pledges to get wasted with leering frat guys, but P.C. took this as an opportunity to ask P.J. to spend time with us. It became clear during the evening that something magical was going on between P.C. and P.J., and the rest is history. Over the years, they’ve been great friends to me, and I really admire their intelligence, graciousness, good humor, and integrity in their love for each other. And now they’re both big-shot doctors. ๐Ÿ˜‰ (He’s an emergency intern, she’s an ob/gyn resident.)

I arrived on Thursday night, and met P. & P. at their dance lesson (they were practicing the rhumba for their “first dance” at the reception). They seemed completely wiped out from running around all week. However, they looked lovely on the dance floor, and I watched them wistfully as they moved together with a comfort that comes from having been together for nearly 10 years (damn, we’re getting old!!!). Later on, we went back to their house (I was their first houseguest!) and did some last-minute preparations for the weekend. I’m so glad that I decided to come in a little early, because it gave me a chance to hang out with P. & P., just the three of us.

On Friday, the bridal party indulged in girliness at a salon downtown. Afterwards, I managed to squeeze in a visit with my former mentors at the Creighton Center for Service and Justice. They needed to go to a meeting, so I had a few minutes before the rehearsal started in the campus church. I decided to check out some old haunts as well as the fancy new buildings that they’ve built since my escape, er, graduation. The new science building is amazing and sterile, the way a science building should be, I suppose. The library is still the same, and when I walked inside, I glanced at the study carrolls on the side and immediately began to feel stressed out. Old reflexes die hard.

The rehearsal and rehearsal dinner went off smoothly, and then I went out with some former Creighton classmates. J. and I later stayed up very late before going to sleep, because we were too busy giggling about various crude topics. P.C. told us the next day that she knew that would happen, and that’s why she put us in a room separate from her (smart woman!).

Saturday was a marathon. This was the first big wedding that I’ve been a bridesmaid in, and I had no idea just how much stuff there is to do. P.C. told me that I should start planning my own wedding now, nevermind the fact that I don’t even have a boyfriend.

Basically, we were booked solid from 8 a.m.-midnight. But it was fun, and I was happy to see two friends pledging their commitment to each other. The reception was at the Joslyn Art Museum in the fountain courtyard. Amazing. Gorgeous. (The only gaffe was the DJ–when introducing the wedding party at the reception, he was whooping into the microphone and pumping his fist like we were the starting lineup at a basketball game. And after he played yet another Lil’ Jon song, we had to request some more appropriate tunes. Hearing “skeet, skeet, skeet” ring through the halls of the Joslyn was just …. so wrong.)

My parents drove up from KC to be my “dates.” It was great to see them (esp. since I probably won’t go back to Kansas until Christmas), and they tore it up on the dance floor. My friends were amazed, and I have to admit, I was proud! I think it was their head-spinning polka that really won the crowd over in their favor.

Want to see some pics? Click here for my dress, here for the rest.

The weather was gorgeous, the champagne was tasty, and my friends were (as always) awesome. Great weekend–exactly what I needed.

 

Guess which one is me?

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A Comedy About Birth Search (wtf?)

First of all, thank you to all of you for the nice comments re: my blog anniversary! I’m sorry I took so long to post my thanks. To those of you who came out of lurkdom, I must confess that I, too, have been lurking on your blogs. ๐Ÿ˜‰

**And now, here’s my review of The Intelligent Design of Jenny Chow by Rolin Jones, a play whose main character is a 22-year-old Chinese adoptee. Who is an obsessive-compulsive agoraphobic. Who designs a robot version of herself that flies to China and meets her birth mother.

Critics have hailed the play as “hilarious” and “excellent.” A local theater is going to stage a production of the play, and they’ve asked some of the members of AAAW to participate in a panel about adoption after the performances. We’re all taking turns reading the script, and I got my turn last week. Upon hearing that this was a “techno-comedy” about a female Chinese adoptee, written by a fresh-faced recent graduate of the Yale School of Drama who is decidedly not female and not a Chinese adoptee–well, there was much rolling of the eyes.

Actually, though, I didn’t hate the play. I didn’t love it, but I didn’t hate it. Let me start with the good things. He actually manages to capture some of the painful words that adoptive mothers and their internationally adopted children can exchange. Jennifer and her adoptive mother, Adele, have a combative, complex relationship that I imagine looks very powerful on the stage. Also, the scene where the robot meets Jennifer’s birth mother is oddly touching in a way.

However . . . one of the biggest beefs I have with the play is on the first page–the cast listing. It states that:

The actor playing Adele [white adoptive mother] will also play Mrs. Su Yang Zhang [Jennifer’s Chinese birth mother]. The actor playing Mrs. Marcus [white adoptive father] will also play Mr. Zhang [Jennifer’s birth mother’s new husband]. The actor playing Todd [Jennifer’s white friend] will also play the boy [Jennifer’s Chinese brother].

When I read this, an alarm immediately started going off in my head . . . “WARNING! Yellowface alert!”

Meaning, “WTF, I’m sure that they’ll have white actors put on yellowface when it comes time to play the Chinese family.” (Indeed, the photos I’ve seen–while not indicating yellowface–show that Adele [and by implication, Su Yang] is played by a white actress.)

I mean, I guess Rolin’s trying to make a statement here about the universality of motherhood and all that. But I really dislike the suggestion these casting decisions make about adoptive families and birth families being parallel existences, like dรถppelgangers. Because they’re not. They’re completely different. Apples and oranges. Having a white actress in a black wig and heavy eyeliner with her eyes taped back is insulting. Have we really not progessed beyond Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany’s?

Adele and Jennifer have such a broken relationship in the play, that I can see lots of adoptive parents watching it and thinking to themselves, “Well, my relationship with my daughter is so much better than that. Jennifer only wants to search for her birth mother simply because her relationship with her adoptive mother is so fucked up.”

But again–it’s natural for adoptees to wonder about their birth families!!! Searching does not equal rejecting our adoptive families. You don’t have to be an OCD agoraphobic adoptee to feel fragmented and curious about your roots.

In the end, I found the play’s “zaniness” entirely too contrived (she builds the robot with parts she receives from the U.S. Department of Defense). And while the reunion scene between the robot and birth mother was somewhat touching, it was also too perfunctory and improbable. Also, Jennifer engages in a revolting form of prostituting herself by engaging in cyber-sex with a white Mormon missionary (stationed in China) in exchange for him tracking down her birth mother. (Is this what Daily Variety meant when they called the play “fantastical and funny”?? Yeah, self-exotification is a real knee-slapper.)

Anyway, feel free to weigh in with your thoughts. My next post will probably be regaling you all with stories from my upcoming wedding weekend in Omaha. I’m so excited to go to Omaha!! (Smacking forehead . . . Did I really just say that??) Ahh, Omaha–the land of legalized school segregation!

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Happy belated anniversary to my blog

Technically, my first real post was April 6, 2005. I was wondering the other day what it would’ve been like if I’d gone through with my original intentions and started my blog when I moved to Korea in August 2004. Most likely–very tumultuous, judging from my journal.

Speaking of my journal . . . I hardly ever write in it anymore. I only write in it occasionally these days when I have something on my mind that I feel like I can’t hash out in person, on the phone, here, chatting online, or e-mail. Which is rare. Actually, blogging and chatting (Google, MSN, AIM, etc.) have pretty much supplanted the time that I used to spend e-mailing and writing in my journal. As a result of this, I feel a little disconnected from my long-distance friends who don’t blog or chat. We make up for it through phone calls, although those are few and far between. It’s difficult to multi-task while on the phone . . .

I’ve been a little stressed out lately. Due to the following:
1) Money. For the summer. For next year. For the rest of my life. I’m currently in a waiting game to see what kind of funding I can scrape together for the summer. It involves at least three different entities, and it’s making my head spin. Two of them are also somewhat dependent on the other. I want to throw myself prostrate in front of these review committees. “Help . . . please . . . show some mercy . . .” Yeah–probably not a good idea. I’m also scurrying around, trying to see if I can manage to snag an assistantship for next year, a feat I was unable to accomplish a year ago. Tonight, while walking to the bus stop, I joked to my classmate (we’re all facing similar predicaments), “It’s times like these when I think to myself, ‘Perhaps it’s not too late to sell my soul to the devil and become a pharmaceutical company sales rep!'” She then informed me that her father is a drug rep. [Good thing she is extremely good-natured and took my snarkiness in stride. Open mouth . . . insert foot.]
2) I was accepted into the Jackson School for their concurrent degree program with Evans. (M.A. in International Studies combined with my Evans M.P.A.) The Jackson School wants to know my decision by the end of the month. Also, Evans requires us to turn in a “plan of study” this month that will basically outline the rest of our time in graduate school. So I’m really feeling the pressure to make some decisions . . . with UCLA looming in the shadows. What will most likely happen is that I will accept the Jackson School’s offer in order to keep my options open, and it’s not like I’m writing my plan of study in blood. But I can only avoid this for so much longer . . .

All right, that was my bitch session. Today, I started my hip-hop dance class. Yes, I get to continue the sweet, sweet moves that we did in Sanbon with my fellow JEL teachers. (L.W.–I wish you could take this class with me. Do you ever spontaneously break out into choreographed steps out there in Vegas?) I’m hoping the class gets more interesting than what we did today. We spent over 30 minutes stretching and doing various crunches which left little time for actual dancing. Which consisted of two very simple 8-count routines. All to the tune of “Ms. New Booty.” (Hey, it turns out that a friend took a video of me dancing with his fancy phone during one of the wild nights out after winter quarter. Should be good for a laugh if he ever remembers to send it to me!!)

Loved seeing the odd jobs some of you have had. (Long John Silver’s??? Oh, man . . .) And any job where you are forced to wear pleated pants ought to pay more.

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Menial jobs of days gone by

*Tag*–I’m tagging myself and my readers, since I haven’t seen one of these in a while (soon-young, I was partly inspired by the thing you sent me, which I’ll send back to you. This post was also partly inspired by the book I spent 5 hours reading today, The Origins of the Urban Crisis. Not to say that the following were the worst jobs ever, just that I started thinking about weird jobs I’ve had in the past . . . ok, I will shut up now and proceed with the list.)
***********

Five Odd Jobs I’ve Had (or Five Reasons Why Grad School is Going To Be SO Worth It): (and they were all in the Kansas City area–go figure!!)

1. Coffee barista at a large mall in suburban Kansas–This was the first “real” job I ever had in high school. It was owned by a mother-daughter team, both with gray hair, both single. I somehow got the job because they were family friends of our neighbors in our cookie-cutter Overland Park subdivision. The mother used to stand behind the counter on slow nights and chain-smoke, giving me life advice in her raspy voice. The inside of the store sold whole bean coffee and loads of crap (baskets, cups, teas, etc.), while there was a drink cart on the outside. I was often relegated to the drink cart, where I had to explain over and over how our cappuccinos were not like the ones at Quick Trip. The upside was that I got all the caffeine I could consume for free, which came in handy back in those days when I was an overachiever in school. I was a pretty crabby barista, and on more than one occasion, customers complained about me. ๐Ÿ˜‰ One of my co-workers also ended up being my date for my senior prom. But he was a last resort (all-girl high school), and I asked him not to say anything to our other co-workers about our date. I have this overwhelming feeling that he came out of the closet after our coffee days.

2. Retail salesperson at Lily Pulitzer boutique–Do you know who Lily Pulitzer is? I had no idea either when I started this job. I guess Jackie Kennedy first popularized Lily’s dresses, which are basically loud, pastel prints for Palm Beach socialites. Why the hell was I working there? This was during the hazy-in-between period after I left medical school and before I moved to Boston. I needed to make some money at a job I could easily quit, the store was close to my house, and the owner had been a client of my mom’s. It was a surreal experience, since going to work felt like entering Barbie’s Dream House. The place was saturated in pink and pastel green. Adding to the humiliation was the fact that my perky blonde co-workers were all current students at my old high school . . . and here I was, a college graduate! This job consisted of mostly ironing out new stock with the steamer and marveling at Johnson County housewives who would pay $80 for a toddler’s swimsuit.

3. Temp receptionist for suburban Kansas mega-church–I am not a church-goer. For a few years, I was an ardent Catholic because I got caught up in the social justice fervor at Creighton (I’ve since become a recovering Catholic like most of my other friends). But that was nothing like this Methodist mega-church that I temped at for a week. This church had three times as many members as there were students at my university. 12,000 people!! It had a “campus” that could easily be confused with a community college from the outside. รœber-church people kind of creep me out, and รผber-mega-church people really creep me out. There were two of us as receptionists to handle all of the calls. The other lady was not a temp, and she talked about the pastor as if he were God himself. In fact, all of the ladies in the office spoke of him in that way. During that whole week, I never saw him–only heard his voice over the speakerphone, like he was Charlie or something.

4. Holiday worker for behemoth bookstore–I felt victorious when I scored this job, because the interview process had been so intense. Even though this job only paid $6.25/hour, most of the misanthropic people working there had B.A. degrees in English. They seemed very protective of their store culture, which surprised me since it was such a large, commercial chain. I remember one of my coworkers sighing, “We should only keep the store open for the people who work here.” The job was fast-paced, and it felt like a whirlwind. I must say that out of all of my retail jobs, this was probably the most enjoyable (the 40% discount didn’t hurt, either). However, putting all the errant books & magazines (a process dubbed “recovery”) was quite a chore, especially considering we always found the dog-eared Penthouse Forum paperbacks stashed in weird places throughout the store.

5. Customer Service representative at shopping/convention center in downtown Kansas City–I did this job in the summers and over holidays during college. The center is owned by a little card company. I did a variety of things, including gift-wrap, shipping packages, selling concert tickets, and doing my best not to roll my eyes. At times, I had to sit in the center’s information booth, where I felt rather exposed. Indeed, this is the job where I received the most comments regarding my ethnicity. But I really enjoyed my co-workers–it was the most diverse work environment of all my jobs in Kansas City. One of them was this ancient, snappish white woman who one day accidentally took my car keys home with her (which resulted in me pawing through the garbage, trying in vain to locate them). Everyone was afraid of her, but she ended up liking me ’cause it turned out we were “sorority sisters.” (You never know when that will come in handy, heh.)

Wouldn’t resumes be more interesting if they said what you really thought about those jobs?

So what odd jobs have you worked??

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These parents today . . .

(I’ve responded to comments on yesterday’s post within the comment section of said post. Welcome to everyone who finds me via TTR! You are such a pimp, Ji-in! ๐Ÿ˜€ )

This morning, I went down to the Wing Luke Asian Museum to watch my friend, R.B., give a tour to a group of local high school students. I’m finally making time this quarter to be a museum docent, which I’m stoked about. R.B. is the Education Coordinator at the museum, and I was very impressed with his professionalism and encylopedic knowledge of all of the exhibits. (Definitely impressive given that all of my previous experiences with R.B. involved seeing him at parties/clubs wearing a goofy grin on his face and unsuccessfully trying to dance with women.)

The kids were only about half-zoned-out, and they ended up asking some fairly interesting questions at the end (mostly about the Japanese internment exhibit and the gallery featuring the local Sikh community). I was going to stay to watch the elementary school group tour immediately after, but I had to cut it short in order to get to campus. Little kids make me smile, what with their inappropriate questions and wiggly bodies. They were like puppies at the museum, sniffing around and inspecting everything.

I asked R.B. whether he prefers older students or younger students. Basically, who asks the most offensive questions? R.B. surprised me and said it’s always the chaperone parents who make the dumbest comments. Like one Mercer Island (Seattle’s version of the O.C.) mom asked,

How can you tell Chinese and Japanese people apart when you look at them?

Oh lord, what have I gotten myself into? Maybe we could just tell all the parents to stay in the lobby.

Another interesting part of this morning–the very nice gentleman working at the museum’s front desk was a black man who had been adopted by a Chinese family. He’s been working at the museum for the past ten years or so.

Anyway, stupid parents or not, I’m glad that I’m finally stepping up my involvement with WLAM. Just in time for APA Heritage Month (May)!

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Changes coming soon

First of all–a big CONGRATULATIONS goes out to both R. in San Diego (you have a beautiful, adorable baby girl, just like her mama!) and S.T. (wow!!! Looks like a year from now, Sam, K.Mio, and I will be kickin’ it in the Philippines at your wedding.). It was an exciting weekend for my friends with life-changing events. Our late twenties . . . a non-stop parade of engagements, weddings, and now babies. A friend of mine at the Evans School also got engaged over spring break, and then there’s the upcoming Omaha nuptials (and I also continue to be in the loop for J.G.’s wedding, although I’m not attending–haha, Kat, the way you described last weekend’s bridal shower was exactly what my mom said. I agree, showers must have alcohol for the sane marrieds and singletons in attendance). As I was telling Ji-in, I really do f*cking love weddings. Even though I can’t help but feel like a kid/spinster as I watch all of my friends ride off into the sunset.

I had a wonderful Friday night, followed by a low-key rest-of-the-weekend. On Friday, I met up with S.M., former AmeriCorps teammate (and new reader of this blog? eh? ‘s ok, I have other “non-comment-leavers” who read this. ๐Ÿ˜€ ). We had a great time catching up over oysters at happy hour in Belltown, and then we made our way over to Wallingford to meet up with the Evans pub crawl. While my classmates finished up their late dinners, S.M. and I took over the Japanese bakery across the street and discussed various things, including the merits of blogging. ๐Ÿ˜‰ We later joined my happily tipsy classmates at Leny’s, a true dive (although blessedly smoke-free!). Much to the chagrin of the bar patrons, I ordered some salt-and-vinegar french fries (who knew vinegar could smell so rank?). But seriously, folks, all the best foods stink. Hmmm, I’m reading this now, and it sounds like all we did was eat. Keep in mind this was over an 8-hour period!

This afternoon, I visited one of the Asian American Studies professors here at the UW. Although the UW doesn’t offer an M.A. program in APA studies, I wanted to talk to her to hear what her opinion was about me possibly going to UCLA to get such a degree. Of course, she said it would be a good idea and felt that my Evans advisor was being short-sighted. We chatted for over an hour, and she was quite gracious in inviting me to sit in on some of her classes. She also recommended some texts for me to read (someday! When I have all that free time, right.). I gave her my contact information (mental note–get business cards), because she said that she might have some students who would be interested in the upcoming adoptee mini-gathering we’re hosting. Talking with her was illuminating, but I still feel murky as to what my next move ought to be. It could be due to the crappy weather we’re having of late . . . . and also–

I’m not getting the fellowship money I’d been hoping for this summer. ๐Ÿ˜ฆ There’s still a chance that I can be funded for next school year, but this summer is out. Which means there is no way in hell that I can afford to stay in my current living situation (can’t pay the rent while I’m away in Korea). Talked about it with my roommate tonight. So I’ll be staying here until the end of spring quarter, most likely put my things in storage or at friends’ houses for the summer, and then . . . start all over again in September.

I am getting weary of doing this. I have not physically lived in the same spot for more than 12 months since…..well, if I’m including the moving in college……1996. If I’m just talking about city-city moving–then the last time I stayed in the same area was college (although I went home every summer). So 2001-now = constant upheaval. It sounds like I’m whining. I don’t mean to . . . . Each move has opened my eyes to new people and experiences that have made my life richer. But the process of packing up and moving on is losing its luster. But then there are times when I feel the itch to go, and I think to myself, “I can do this again….” Will I be California-bound in a little over a year?

I know that figuring out what I truly want will require quieting down and listening to myself. It has always been too easy for me to listen to what other people think I should do. Too easy to keep myself busy and not stop to ask, “Do you really want this?” I think I’ve gotten better at that over the past few years. At this point, I think it may just be in my nature to be continually looking for something (“seeker soul” and all that, heh). If only I can channel this curiosity into ways that are less of a drain upon my bank account. (I would probably be in better shape financially for the upcoming summer if I didn’t do things like allowing myself get suckered into buying $38 body lotions at L’Occitane.)

Jae Ran–I must thank you for steering us towards that “Chinese Baby” video. So you stayed at KoRoot during the ’04 Gathering? I was at the Sofitel during the actual Gathering, although I came to KoRoot immediately thereafter. I distinctly remember one afternoon, sitting around the dining table at KoRoot, talking to some Minnesota adoptees to inquire about the dating reputation of another certain Minnesota-raised Korean adoptee (A.H.–to close readers of this blog, this is NOT the same “A.H.” who was my language partner this year at the UW. This A.H. has a last name that rhymes with “feberlin” [although that’s not really a word]. The “A” stands for asshole. He ended up moving to Korea after the Gathering, we lived together briefly, and then he tore my heart out and summarily stomped all over it. And now I hear he’s been a baby’s daddy all along…..has some 2-year-old kid back in Minnesota [he still lives in Korea and now has a Korean-Korean girlfriend] that he NEVER TOLD ME ABOUT! Sorry for the digression). Anyway, if you were one of those ladies, then I probably did meet you! Don’t worry, if that was indeed you, I don’t hold anyone responsible for the disaster that was my relationship with A.H. He kept many things hidden, so no one could’ve predicted what ended up happening. Regardless, I’m glad we’ve re-met again in the blogosphere. I’ll try to find a way that we can exchange e-mails anonymously (I, too, would love to dialogue more with you about the work we’re both doing. Have you considered coming to Seattle for the mini? wink-wink).

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