Does it even matter?

Does it even matter?

|how.odious| Year Two: DAY THIRTY-EIGHT

2016 November 28 [Monday]

Yes, this ought to be the fourth installment of the Mundane Monday Memoir, but I didn’t feel like writing last week, so I didn’t. These entries are really just an “out” for when I really want to write despite No-Writing November. Today, I still don’t really have much to say, but I feel like writing.

I’m finally reaching that point when I’m beginning to feel depressed and really shitty about myself and my life. This may sound awful, but it’s a place in which I desperately need to exist if I’m ever going to write this second book. There are many things mulling in my mind that range in topics from hatred to discipline. I honestly have no idea where I’m going to go with this second book, but that’s not really the point. What I’m trying to do is wait. I wait for the moment wherein my internal thoughts and feelings reveal themselves to me. If there’s anything I know about myself, it’s that I cannot force any sort of creative endeavor. Sure, I can be diligent about writing and practicing my writing, but I can’t just hope to land somewhere interesting. All I can do is wait for it to reveal itself to me. Ugh. *sigh.

I have come to a decision about another aspect of my life. I have officially decided that I must start painting again. If there’s something else I know about myself, it’s that I’m a pretty good painter. I need to start painting again. Thus, I will. The lifemate bought me a really nice canvas last year for my birthday, and we prepped and gessoed a square on our living room wall so that I could paint a mandala there, but have I painted a single stroke yet?, of course not.

Don’t be misled by my enthusiasm. It’s not really that I WANT to paint. I’ve just kind of come to the realization that I MUST. I like to paint, and it’ll probably be really good for me, emotionally and creatively. We’ll see.

In the meantime, I am finishing up the November Yoga Challenge: #PebbleToNextLevel. I’m a few days behind, so I am going to finish late. At this point in my life, though, I can’t be so hard on myself and quit just because I didn’t complete the challenge “perfectly.” Despite being a bit behind, I just have to keep pressing on and remind myself that it [the yoga] is not a competition that I will ever “win.” My the yoga practice is just that, all mine. So, yes, I will finish the last few postures, but no I will not have them practiced and photographed by the end of today, which is the technical end of the challenge. I will, however, complete the damn thing by December 1st, hopefully. *sigh.

As far as documenting the goings on of the past two weeks, there’s not much to tell. I go to tutoring; we [the lifemate and I] watch movies and eat food together every day; it’s fucking freezing, yet I still sweat sometimes while outside; the cat continues to howl in the early mornings and is a general pain in our ass, but I don’t blame him; this is one tiny apartment. Sometimes I’m wracked with guilt because I want his company, but it seems a bit cruel to keep him cooped up in here all the time. Ugh.

Alrighty. It’s time to drop off some pics to print for my parents, drop off some coffee for the lifemate, do a short circuit workout, swing through Lotte Mart to pick up some presents for my parents, and do the yoga. Until next time. I have two more weeks of no writing, so I make no promises about when you’ll see me again. Laters.

Love is not the answer.

Love is not the answer.

Love is clearly not the answer. The American people have chosen hate over love. Thus, perhaps, the answer is Truth. What do you do when confronted by a person who acts as though s/he knows everything about everything when the reality is that s/he knows nothing about anything? You rest in the knowledge that Truth will always rear its beautiful head and pierce the mighty ego. The best way to know when Truth has penetrated the mind of the fraud is when the fraud feels insulted and hides behind the admittance that “I won’t be bullied by ‘open mindedness’.” Oh sweet solace … the fight of the ignorant may seem noble, but the Truth is that narrow minds are obsolete. Denial is the fraud’s only weapon … what a futile endeavor. The fraud, no matter, is right about one thing despite whether or not it’s misguided … compassion is wholly necessary … the compassion of Truth upon the minds of the mindless.

 

Treasure Troll

Treasure Troll

|how.odious| Year Two: Day 024

2016 November 13 [Monday]

Welcome to the second entry of the six-part Mundane Monday Memoir. Oh boy, do I have a lot to say! Unfortunately, I am not allowed to write about any of the things I’d like to write about here, today, on my computer. Thus, I shall keep it mundane, as it were, and merely write about the fucking day-to-day of the past week. Disregarding the whole Election-Day outcome in the United States of America, I basically spent the entirety of last week arguing with various members of my family. One member said something like this, “I won’t be bullied by ‘open-mindedness’.” Another member consistently took the stance that I’m a real-life troll all while constantly considering his passive-aggressive nit-picking, substance-less aggression as, “Look. I’m just trying to have a conversation.” The latter is something about which I will write in further depth, but alas, I am not currently allowed to really share these sorts of meaningful insights at this time. Ugh.

Needless to say, although I am going to say it now, it’s been a tough, emotional week trying to “deal with” these particular people in my life. And then this thought sort of hit me when I pondered why these interactions are so difficult right now. Have you ever read the book Spark by John J. Ratey, M.D.? Well, in that book, the author’s general theory is that exercise and physical movement is what stimulates the brain into essentially being “smarter.” Of course, I’m giving a very generalized overview of the general impression I gained from the book as a mere reader of it. Anyway, shit. Okay, fuck it. I’m going to continue despite repeatedly breaking my rule(s). Okay, so anyway, what I took away from that book is a sort of less-physical idea of movement. If you’re not growing, per se, interpersonally, mentally, emotionally, &c., then you’re sort of also not stimulating brain growth. I sort of see Ratey’s idea of “movement” as change and growth, not necessarily in a physical sense. Thus, when I look at the two people with whom I have had recent conflict, I’m not really surprised that we would butt heads so ferociously. The gap between where their heads are at and where my head is at grows exponentially, especially when considering that we don’t even get to see each other that often.

As I change, my family is not seeing this change in real time or even at consistent intervals. As I expect that my family will change and be different people every time I see them, I am shocked by the lack of change. Sure, I see how ridiculously conceited and egotistical this all sounds, cause I’m basically stating that I think I’m growing and getting smarter while revealing that I think that some people in my life are not only dumb but also, getting dumber. But yea, that is what I’m saying. Even though I feel this way, it doesn’t mean I act this way. I’m sure the two with whom the conflicts arose think that I’m a fucking bitch, and they wouldn’t be wrong. Sure, I could be “nicer,” but where does nice get you? Ha! Nowhere, that’s where. Being smart also rarely gets you anywhere. My point is simply that when dealing with family, love is obviously off the table. Obviously I will continue to love you no matter what. What remains then are two options. Your options become enabling through lies or telling the truth.

With the first conflict, I opted for telling the truth, and with the second, I became a “Yes Man.” Thinking back on it now, I probably should have reversed my approach because the person to whom I lied is dealing with a much larger truth. Ugh. I say it all the time, and it’s relevance definitely stings, but you can’t know anything until you know it.

Back to the mundanity, the rest of the week was spent with a family member who came to visit. I did my damnedest to put on a good time, but this person spent 80% of our time together either on his phone or thinking about what he should do with his phone. So, the apathy was palpable. On Saturday, I threw a party to prove to this person that I’m not some anti-social hipster who thinks she’s better off with no friends, and my guest seemed put out, hardly participated, and seemed as though he’d rather be off in some dark corner on his phone rather than having to be so present amongst people who like me. Sunday my guest departed back to his current place of temporary residence. The rest of Sunday was spent recovering from the emotional strain and the physical discomfort of hosting a guest and hosting a long party full of libations and socializing. *sigh. For the record, I had a great time at my party. It was supposed to go from around 1800 to 2400, but no one even started leaving until 0130, and I wasn’t in bed until about 0330. Our [the lifemate and my] apartment was a huge fucking mess, but the lifemate assured me that that’s how he knows everyone had a great time. I hope everyone had a great time!

As a final word, I’ll say, yes some people are really predictable, but when someone surprises you for the better, make that person your friend.

An Opening Passage

An Opening Passage

“A wise woman made a beeline to the shelf, poked her head down to examine the object more closely, stepped back, pointed, and promptly began criticizing the examined thing. And then the wise woman started to get this profound sense that none of this really matters.”

via the opening passage of my book Red & Blue Make Green [Available on Amazon]

Is it The End?

Is it The End?

|how.odious| Year Two: Day 017

2016 November 7 [Monday]

As Election Day in the States draws oh-so-near, I can only watch as a mere observer from a place far away. Of course, the lifemate nor I could have ever predicted that by staying here one more year, we’d essentially put the fate of our dear homeland into the hands of citizens who are genuinely interested in the punk-assed moron [Trump, so as not to be confused about whom I am talking] becoming the leader of the “Free World.” Ugh. That’s enough about that because I don’t really have any legs to stand on as an expat who left her homeland many years ago. Nevertheless, the sheer possibility that the punk-assed moron could even win sort of makes me feel really really sad. I could and probably should say more on the subject as far as it relates to my personal life, but I do not think that this is the most appropriate space in which to share these sorts of conflicts within the personal spheres of my life. I would embarrass myself through the vast hatred of my words, but I would necessarily scold the people with whom I have such personal beef. No matter … I shall refrain.

As far as other happenings from this past week are concerned, I successfully extended my visa, which means I can stay here in Seoul through November 2019. It was a stressful day because any time one visits an immigration office, s/he ought to be stressed; it’s a stressful situation. Luckily, I prepped and had all of the correct paperwork, and the entire situation resolved itself without a hitch. I’ve also been quite successful at sticking to this month’s Yoga Challenge, which is a nice break from my own laziness and overall disdain for “doing what I must.” The weather mellowed out a bit at the end of the week, so the lifemate and I got in two pretty great workouts outside over the weekend as well.

The lifemate and I spent most of last night hand-making invites for our little, A Saturday Night in November, party this coming weekend. satnightinvite

We basically invited his entire office, so that should be fun, if everyone actually attends! Ugh. Don’t get me wrong, I love the idea of throwing parties, but I don’t throw them very often [I can only think of about three or four times I’ve done so in my adult life]. As an introvert’s introvert, it generally takes me about a year to recover from all of the necessary social output hosting a party requires. Ugh. It’s alright though.

This particular party was my idea because my brother might be coming into town this weekend, and I get the general feeling that he [my brother] thinks that I don’t have any friends. So, I thought this might be a good time to actually do something more with him than the usual watching movies, eating out, &c., &c. The sad thing is that he might not actually make it this weekend. Something screwy went down with his credit card or something, so now he might not even be able to come visit … [sad face emoji]. The party must go on!, as it were.

I suppose that’s about it for today’s truly Mundane Monday Memoir entry. *sigh. For a final word about the whole “No-Writing November,” it’s sort of really nice but also, sort of really boring. I accidentally wrote a paragraph the other day when posting a pic to my photography site. So, I guess I’ve failed in some small sense. Other than that, though, I have to really stay cognizant of the fact that I cannot write anything of substantial length. And really, I shouldn’t be on the computer at all [except for today, of course]. *sigh. Oh well. I’ll try to do better this week. See you next Monday! Lates.