On anti-social behavior and family

I'm not sorry that I've been feeling anti-social as of late. It is my firm belief that people are entitled to alone-time and personal space, and right now, that is exactly what I need. I am sorry, however, that some of my friends seem to be taking this personally, as if my aim in isolating myself for these past who knows how many weeks was to injure their feelings. I love you, but no. Do not think that this is me being petty, or me being flaky. This is me needing some goddamn time to myself, and it has nothing to do with you.

Please take that as a compliment. I'm not trying to avoid you. I'm trying to avoid EVERYONE. You may not agree with my methods - in fact, I know that some of you don't - but this is what I need to do for me. And if you can't understand that, when I'm feeling down and out I like to spend some time alone and sort things through, then you aren't the people I thought you were.

On another note, I'll be home most weekends, starting from this past weekend to at least the end of this month. I plan on being here every other weekend in October, since that is my birth month, and I'd like to celebrate with friends (I'm thinking game night!). The reason for this is that my mom recently had an accident and underwent surgery; she is currently in the recovery process, and her surgeons have ordered her to do as little as possible, lest she suffer a setback (like she did this past weekend). In order to make life as easy as possible for my mom, whose business demands likewise that she be on her feet nearly all the time, I will be going home to chauffeur her around, as well as to cook and clean and all that jazz. Please understand that my mom comes first, and right now, she's not doing very well. If my going home on the weekends to care for her bothers you, then again - you aren't the people I thought you were.

You, however, being the people I thought you were, will hopefully understand that I am sorting through my life as best I can, while also offering unconditional support to my mother. You will understand that I mean no harm, and that while I may be avoiding social interactions, this in no way means that I don't still love you, that I don't miss you. I do - I just need to take care of me, and I need to take care of my mom.

I love you all!

On love, hate, and everything in between.

Just as a heads up - I'm going through some tough shit right now, which I'll react to by either withdrawing into myself once more or by pleading for attention, hugs, and kisses. Either way, I may or may not tell you just what it is that's bothering me, but just know that I am having some difficulties adjusting to certain events.

With that being said, I'll acknowledge here that this time around, my heartbreak has nothing to do with loving someone completely and utterly wrong for me. No, my heart breaks for someone else who made that mistake nearly 30 years ago, and has dealt with the repercussions with strength and willpower that I am only now beginning to fathom.

At the same time, my heart is fortified by the incredible love this woman still manages to have for myself and for my sisters, a love so strong that she has put up with all sorts of abuse and disrespect for over half her life. A love so strong that she has lived and persevered when a lesser woman would have not. It is for our sakes that she has endured levels of shit that I had sworn I would never suffer.

I've discovered, in the light of this past weekend, not only the kinds of strength a woman needs to leave a toxic relationship, but also the iron will it requires to stay.

I have, in short, discovered the amazing, wondrous thing that is the love of a mother. My only hope now is that one day, I can prove I am worthy of being her daughter. I've already demonstrated that I am quite capable of making the same mistakes that have nearly ruined her life. Let's hope that I am equally capable of the same strength.

"As a woman, I wish she had. As her daughter, I'm grateful she didn't."

For the longest time

For as long as I can remember, I've always wanted to get married, have three children, and live the happy home life I didn't truly have. I always wondered why both of my older sisters wanted neither marriage nor children of their own; I thought it was bizarre and wrong that two women would not want that typical, sugar-sweet family life.

It hit me only recently that perhaps they responded to our home life differently than I did. All three of us were under great pressure growing up, and it didn't help that my parents' loveless marriage frequently led to violently angry arguments. Psychology argues that the three of us should have grown up to be complete and utter messes, drug-addicts or alcoholics. Instead, we've all had varying degrees of success in our lives.

The experience still scarred us all deeply, however. I grew up idolizing happy marriages and promising myself that my children would never suffer as I did. My sisters, on the other hand, shunned marriage and children for themselves. Again, I found this mindset foreign to my way of thinking, and to America's way of thinking as a whole.

But now, I look at their beliefs with a little more clarity. My solution to the unhappiness of our home was to build a better one for the future; my sisters' solutions appeared to rely on not ever taking the risk of building one for themselves. My parents' relationship nurtured in me a painfully intense desire for true love; my sisters appear to avoid repeating the same mistakes by avoiding marriage.

The eldest of us three, however, is the only one to have actually committed herself to relationships (as far as I know. I don't think S. has been in a relationship with anyone, but I could be wrong). Her current relationship is, in my eyes, truly something special. For as long as I've been alive, J. has always had to look after me (and believe me, I was NOT easy to handle) and bear the burden of being an adult when she should have been enjoying her youth. But with her boyfriend, she doesn't have to carry the all responsibilities on her own shoulders; her boyfriend knows what it's like to be the product of a torn household as well as being the eldest of three. He is, in almost every respect, her perfect partner, and I have never seen her happier in my 22 years (on October 13!) of life. They've made living a shared life while still retaining independence and their individual personalities look disgustingly easy. Yet she still refuses to consider marriage, and I can't help but believe that this mindset is one of the scars left on her by her experiences. Our shared experiences.

J. is six years older than me. If I can remember the shouting, the throwing of dishes, the driving off in cars, then what does she remember? What does S. remember?

Not much good, it's safe to say.

I bring this up because only yesterday, Fadiya and I were discussing how we used to think that the idea of not wanting to get married was freakish and abnormal. We talked about how we, as little girls, wanted to grow up and get married. Then, we grew up. We grew up paranoid, suspicious, mistrustful. We grew up scarred, scared. We grew up afraid to love and be loved. And our childish conceptions of love changed, our ideas of marriage changed. Suddenly, I understand that one good marriage will not automatically undo the mess left by one horrible marriage. Suddenly, I wonder whether or not I'm even capable of maintaining a relationship at all, in any shape or form. I'm a self-diagnosed Avoidant, and though I turned out well enough by societal standards, I'm still carrying a lot of baggage as a result of my childhood. I may have to rewrite my own assumptions of what I wanted as a kid, because as a pseudo-adult, my childhood aspirations are far from what I want now.

I dreamed big, as a kid.

Frequent driver miles

This upcoming week should be pretty thrilling, as far as this summer goes (godDAMN, I'm bored).
I only just returned last night, from a weekend in Downey, but I'll be making my way back to good ol' suburbia on Tuesday. I'll probably spend the evening at the movies with my mother - we both want to see "Hairspray" - and stay the night.
Wednesday, I'll be driving up to Ventura, to spend a couple of days with my sister. Jane doesn't get off of work until 6pm, but I'd rather not fight 101 traffic at the height of rush hour, so I'll probably get into Ventura early. I'll probably cruise around and sightsee, if there are sights worth seeing.
Thursday will be spent in the company of my sister; we'll probably hang out at the beach.
I'll be returning to Downey sometime early Friday afternoon, pick up Annie from work, and head to the beach for our annual bonfire/reunion. Our yearly shindigs are usually a bundle of fun; I anticipate the same for this summer's reunion.
Saturday morning, I'll return to San Diego (hopefully in better driving conditions than this past Saturday - why is there always traffic on the I-5, no matter what time of day I'm driving?), and the following week, I'll begin working at the girls-only film camp.
The following weekend - Friday the 17th - I'll be making my way up to Ventura yet again, for Sloshball, an annual event celebrating a bunch of birthdays that fall sometime during that month. Don't ask me; it's a thing between my sister's boyfriend, and his friends. You basically play drunk softball.
I'll leave San Diego after work, probably around 8pm. I'll pick up Stephi along the way, and get into Ventura around midnight. We'll get sloshed on Saturday, and return on Sunday.
Like I said, lots of driving. But all for good times, so yay!

Fuck. Off.

You can damn well stop telling me what the fuck to do, because I've stopped answering to you a long goddamn time ago. You may be older than me, but I don't care. You may be my flesh and blood, but I don't care. You are not the boss of me, and it's about fucking time you recognized that.
You know how you don't like being told what to do? NEITHER DO I. It's a family trait.
I'm 20 years old. I've got my OWN goals, my OWN dreams, my OWN plans. I WILL be a good daughter, I WILL be a good sister - but I WILL be my own boss FIRST. I will succeed in my own goddamn way, and you can kiss my ass if it doesn't suit you or your purposes. I WILL BE ME.

Happy New Year!

Now prepare yourself for another rant. :]
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I've bitched about Asian families and Asian men quite a few times by now, but nothing proves my point quite like my own family. My mother and I spent all day today cooking up a smörgåsbord of food for the family gathering that would take place later in the evening, without help from a single man in the family. Once the majority of the family had arrived, the men sat themselves on the couch and snacked on appetizers and such while the women ran around serving the food. We were back and forth from the kitchen and the dining alcove bringing out platters, while the men sipped wine and played Korean card games.
After dinner, the women scrambled around, clearing plates, washing the dishes, and putting everything back in its place. I thank all that is holy for my cousin's girlfriend, a kind Korean woman who was in the kitchen from the moment she arrived. She washed sinkfuls, saving my mother and myself an overly horrendous clean-up. Once everyone had gone, Mom and I still had to pack up all the leftovers, wash the remaining dishes, and clear away the good china. Dad parked his ass on the cushy leather sofas and watched TV.
I was incensed with the entire male population tonight. I absolutely refuse to be with a man who treats the kitchen like a woman's "rightful" place. If he doesn't know a damn thing about cooking, he'd better be willing to either learn or order out, 'cause I won't make a slave of myself to a man just because I love him. And he'd better not ask that of me.
Make your own goddamn dinner.
I understand that not all men are cooking-stupid. But even when they do know how to operate in a kitchen, why are they still so willing to just kick back and let a woman do all the work? I've never met a man who wouldn't let a woman take over in the kitchen. Not one man has ever shooed me out of a kitchen, to take over and cook up a meal on their own. Not even when we did Friday dinners! There may have been one where I absolutely refused to enter the kitchen, but even then, other girls were present.
One day, I'd like to be kicked out of the kitchen with a nice drink and a good game on the TV, while a man whips up the kind of meal my mother and I made today.
---
Michigan lost to USC. :[ I hate the Trojans.

The New Year meme, part 2

If you've already read my elephantine post found below, I apologize, for I am going to sum it up now in just a few short(er), and less angry, paragraphs.
2006, as a whole, was an experience. It was an experience in new adventures to be had and lessons to be learned. I've done a few things I'd never done before, gone through some trials I'd never faced before, and so forth.
Let's begin with the less complicated subject at hand. During the summer, I interned at KGTV-10, a newsstation based in San Diego. I learned quite a bit about how a local newsstation gathers its information and prioritizes its daily dosage of news - and I learned why I don't like the trivial, localized approach. This was a highly lucrative endeavour in that I finally got a first-hand look into the workings of my chosen career, and have modified my goals accordingly.
(My hands are so cold and stiff that typing is proving to be a real challenge.)
Now into the gritty stuff - namely, relationships, and how they've proved to be a real bitch and a real source of joy.
My relationship with my family has never failed to be a struggle. We've declined from years past; we've become resigned to a situation that had never had a chance to be truly loving and happy; we've improved in our understanding of one another. It's truly hard at times for me to be a Choe. I've tried explaining it to my friends - one sister is working at three different hospitals, the other is teaching English is Korea. I, as the youngest, have always had these standards to live up to, and I've never failed to come up short. My relationship with my mother has always, for me, been more challenging than any course I've ever been enrolled in, any test I've ever failed, because of my inevitable shortcomings. What I choose to do, what I do to distinguish myself, she cannot understand. She never understood how much work I put into KIWIN'S during high school, and the amazingly postive impact it had on a SHITLOAD of people - all she saw were my poor grades in my math and science classes. She doesn't see the effect I have as an RA - she only notes that I'm attending a good enough school (by her standards) and that my grades are staying up (not realizing how challenging it is to keep them up, what with the other responsibilities I've had). She cannot recognize that I'm trying to make a difference by being an able leader, since this is out of her power to grade and judge. In this aspect, I far outshine my siblings - since neither of them cared for this type of extracurriculars - and it has yet to bear any recognition from my mother.
"And Mom, I know that my being a whiny bitch can get on your nerves, but guess what? You get on my fucking nerves, too. We're human - don't expect me to be your goddamn perfectly perky princess, 'cause that isn't my choice and it never FUCKING was. (Yes, I'm angry right now. No, I don't normally use "fuck" so often. Yes, sometimes, I just need to.)" I wrote this last night, when I was filling out the epic meme below, and I was so angry with her. We can't communicate, my mother and I. Our language barrier is too tough of a divide, and I cannot wholeheartedly pursue the Korean language when there are other things I find more worthwhile of my time. So I won't be able to explain to her that being measured against my sisters, and constantly failing, is not my fault. It was never my choice to be judged by THEIR accomplishments. She does this actively, and out of her own will, and I can't ever win.
Now, I've stopped caring. I've accepted it. And I'll cherish what I do, and be recognized by those who realize my worth, and take true pleasure from that. And from my mother, I'll have undying love and support, and for that I'll be eternally grateful.
I don't fight with my father because we rarely have conversations. Once again, the language barrier. For this, I'm sorry. However, my future does not hold a world where my lacking proficiency in Korean will matter.
My relationships with my various groups of friends have changed greatly. I once placed one group of friends above others for my overall entertainment and amusement. I sought them because there, I felt at ease and myself.
And then the group expanded for their benefit, but not for mine. They found a large circle of friends with a common interest - nay, passion - that I didn't share, and it carried over into everything they did and said. And I was stuck outside.
I left. It was my decision, and I'm happier for it. I do still care for them, though, something I hope they understand.
And in leaving this circle, I returned to a smaller one, one I established in the years preceding #sdcolleges. I made two true, long-lasting friends during my first two years of school, and I neglected them shamefully during Fall quarter. I've poured my heart out to these girls, told them all my sorrows, all my secrets. They never once spoke to me in a language I couldn't understand; if anything, they understood and empathized with me better than any person save one, who I'll get to. Without Fadiya and KLo, I would have failed where I actually triumphed, and to them, I vow to be a better friend.
I like smaller groups of close friends. I adore larger social circles for social gatherings, but when I just need to be me in all of my unedited, uncut, not-rated glory, I only need a few true friends around me. And one who's never failed me, in all my times of stupidity, vapidity, and vanity - the only one who's made any impact on me whatsoever for the long haul - is one Stephi Graf. I've seen vast numbers of people go in and out of my life, and the one presence that will never change is Steph. I'm BLESSED to have that kind of luck in my relationships.
I've found my clique on the RA staff, but our relationship is still forming itself. It's funny - we RAs went through so much together in a very brief period of time, resulting in our unabashedly loving 19 near-strangers after just a month of working together. We had to, in order to be this cohesive of a force, but now that we've had time to come into our positions, we're all slowly making real friendships. Mine have been with 3 other RAs, though I still genuinely adore all of the other 19. What I have with the other 3, though, was at first a friendship of convenience. We're all on campus, we're all separated from our other friends, and we all like boba. :D We became more than co-workers through late-night boba runs, board game marathons, and dining out, and we've shared some great experiences. We're still working out the subtle nuances of our personalities, though. I'm not nearly as open with them as I am with Steph, or Fadiya and KLo (forever a duo in my mind). They don't catch on to the hints that would hit Steph like a load of bricks. They don't sense things in my manner that trigger alarms on the two's sensors.
I think that they're still learning that I DO have moods and emotions other than cheer and happiness. Maybe it's coming as a bit of a shock, but hopefully they'll still love me anyway.
I conquered my heart - I told the man I'd loved for 1.5 years that I cared about him, and got the answer I'd been expecting. I didn't cry, but I was even more desperately unhappy for a period of time. Then, I reflected - I came to a realization that I was still wasting precious time over someone who would never love me quite like I loved him. I faced reality, and I MOVED ON. My heart's forever changed by that experience, but my God - when I threw off that baggage, it was with a hurrah of unexpected depth and true enjoyment.
" Getting over love is better than being in love (in my personal experience. Don’t fucking tell me otherwise, because I don’t care if it’s worked for you – I wouldn’t know. No offense or anything, but that’s just how it is). Loving myself is better than loving another person, and I need to work on that. I need to take some people less seriously, ‘cause they don’t mean to hurt me. Some people need to take me more seriously, because they’re hurting me in spite of their intentions. And finally, good friends are better than anything else in the world, EVEN chocolate." This was my final paragraph in my Meme-to-end-all-memes, and it sums everything up nicely, doesn't it?

No turkey, but lots of drama

What a vacation. Pseudo-vacation, perhaps, is a better word. It seems to me that the aftermath of my holidays spent at home are blog posts full of bitching, but oh well. I was made to rant.
Anyway. Thanksgiving Day wasn't that bad, actually. We had dinner with the only members of my father's family that we actually speak to - his older sister and her two sons, all grown. It was rather nice, since I got to indulge in my aunt's fabulous cooking and see my "nephew" again (the eldest of the two is married and has a 1.5 year-old boy. We Koreans don't mess around with "second" cousin and "third cousin once removed" or whatever. They're just all nieces and nephews). The kid looks a lot more like his mom, these days, and is much cuter for it.
Friday, at around 2am, my sister Jane pulled into the driveway. I helped her unload her Honda, and then the two of us passed out until around 4:30am, which is when our parents woke us for the drive to Tahoe and Reno. Traffic all along the way, of course. I actually drove, for the first time in the history of family road trips. I forget when exactly we pulled into Tahoe - I want to say it was around 2pm. The weather was chilly, but the lake was just beautiful.


There's me, my mom, and my dad, on the edge of the lake. It was our first time visiting Tahoe, and though we were only there for a short period of time, I think we all enjoyed it.
I slept most of the way from Tahoe to Reno; I forfeited my camera to Jane and passed out in the back of the van.
Once at Reno, there wasn't a whole lot for me to do. My sister and our parents gambled for a little bit, while I stayed in our hotel room. I think I read... or did I sleep some more? Eh, insignificant detail. Anyway, a little while later, my mother returned to the room, and we trooped down for dinner at a delicious restaurant in the hotel. My sister ordered me a cocktail as a dessert - a White Russian, with a shot of espresso. Absolutely fantastic; quite possibly the best part of the whole vacation.
We left Reno late Saturday morning, and the drive home was not nearly as peaceful as the way north. My sister brought up a sore subject with my mother, and we all received a nice tongue-lashing. Terrific. I was snappish and short-tempered for most of the way as well, since I quite loathe trips to casino resorts. I see no point in them since a) I don't like gambling away my money and b) even if I did enjoy throwing money away, I'm not legally old enough to. A wasted trip.
Considering that we didn't leave too badly in debt, and that we only had to suffer through my mom's one outburst (albeit, a very angry outburst) and my strained temper, it was actually a successful family trip. Hopefully, though, we won't be going on too many more of them. I enjoy traveling and all, but NOT WITH FAMILY. We have too many opinions, too many tempers, and too little sympathy and patience to be able to deal with one another very well.
Anywhoo, random text messages from my RA buddies kept me sane (relatively speaking), and now I am happy to report that I am back in San Diego.
Not so happy that finals are rapidly approaching, but that's another post.