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noonecanstopecoreanwithacpride
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Name: coreanwithacpride part 2
Country: United States
State: California
Metro: San Jose
Birthday: 1/18/1983
Gender: Male
Interests: huh
Expertise: whuh
Message: message me
Member Since:
12/19/2005
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| My ma called me today, to let me know that our dog of 7 years, Whisky, finally passed away after 2 years of illness and mounting health problems. I'm not sure how, but I think my ma knew that today was Whisky's last day here with us. Being that today was a holiday, none of the vets were open to put her down in a painless and swift manner. So my ma held her in her lap, gently petting her and talking to her, reassuring her, while Whisky made that final journey. I don't know if it's really hit me or not...I know I'm sad but maybe not as sad as I should be? Or maybe I don't know if I'm just keeping those feelings under a tight lid. At one point, I just said out loud "Oppa misses you, Whisky" (Oppa = older brother for you non koreans) and my voice cracked like I was 13 again. My father took Whisky to be cremated, and I can't believe that Whisky's body...her eyes that didn't work anymore, her nose that started to dry itself out over the past 2 years, her ears that never really got to stand up straight and stayed floppy...her little tummy that seemed to eat anything and everything...her little heart that I could feel beating when she was napping on my own tummy...will be nothing but ashes. I wonder what they will do with all her stuff...her little Snoopy bowl...her bed...her toys and stuffed animals...and her sweaters. Writing this makes me sad....but I think that's good. To the best chihuahua there ever was. | | |
| About damn time...
www.starcraft2.com
MY ROOMATE'S GONNA BE RUNNING THIS GAME!
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| For reals. In the beginning of last week, streets in Virginia were being flooded hurricane Katrina style and then to top it off there was Cho Seung Hui.
My mind is all over the place when it comes to him. When I first found out he was Korean, I immediately thought of my friend giving me shit for him...he gives me enough shit for N. Korea, and I was thinking how this would give him new ammo for another round of Korea-hating. Then it went to beyond just him, it went to society as a whole. Ignorant people will use him as their sole example of why Koreans and maybe Asians in general are heartless/ruthless/untrustworthy/sly/younameit bastards. And I thought to myself "This fucker just fucked all of us up."
But now, as I read more about him and have time to think...I'm thinking "This guy didnt care about worrying about the face of his people...his own problems must have been enough.." I'm wondering...just what kind of demons did this guy have? He blames it on the rich kids....and I know what it's like to hate rich kids. I work damn hard for my money, and I don't get enough of it. I see kids live off of daddy's credit card and for the rest of their life they will never know what it is like to suffer, to be hungry and not eat, and to scrounge for change just so they can get less than a gallon of gas so they can just make it to work. Yes, I have been through all of that. And I wonder if he also went through that. But I always had my friends, people who have held out their hands when I was down and tried to get me back on my feet. Cho Seung Hui didn't. Maybe a couple of people tried to reach him, and he probably gave em the cold shoulder. Then those people probably gave up after the first time he ignored them. And you can't blame them. No one but himself understood the emotions he had against society. And now, after this massacre, I step back and try to see this from his POV. I want to think that he must have been sad that those people gave up after the first time, and that deep down he wanted them to keep trying, so that he knew that there was one person who wanted to get to know him, and that maybe society wasn't so bad at all. But we aren't mind readers, and I don't think any of us can predict who is gonna be the next Virginia Tech shooter.
I don't excuse his actions at all...and if my opinion has any weight at all, I condemn it. But, just as we cannot blame society for not being able to reach out to him, I feel like that all the blame cannot rest on him for being the outcast that he was. An outcast will never suddenly open up to society and say "help me, I need someone."
In the end though...there must have been more. There must have been more burning hate and rage inside this man than the ordinary disdain I have for the upperclass elite snobs. Something that we will never know that finally made him decide to do a horrible thing that goes down as American's worst shooting spree to date. Deborah mentioned this...it's something I also thought of, probably because that Korean culture is Confusician based and emphasizes filial relations...but I wonder how his parents must have felt. I don't know what their relationship was like with their son...if it was normal, strained, estranged, etc...but, I think they loved him and I am saddened by the grief that they must carry in their hearts, not only for the loss of their son, but the responsibility as his parents they now face because of his actions.
I know that my empathy for Cho Seung Hui is unpopular and most people won't understand why I feel for him...but I always try to see both sides.
RIP...to all who were slain and the slayer.
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| this one guy popped into my thoughts...he's one of my best buds out here in vegas. he's a 21 year old negro (for reals but dont worry he and i are tight so he knows i aint racist) and he works in retail. see this dude dont act like a thug though...he tries his best to act like a grown man but unlike some people who try to act more mature than their age, he knows he still has a long way to go and frequently consults his sunbaes on what to dob (namely me). Sometimes the favors this guy does for me (like cook and shit) and the way he looks at me (in a non gay way) makes me feel like i'm his big bro and i don't wanna let him down. even though he is my senior in life (he has a son and all) he still trusts me enough to ask me about shit that he doesn't feel confident about. i envy him sometimes, cuz i look at him, and even though he's not rich and has to struggle to survive, i see him enjoy his own life and that he, my younger bro, is a grown man even without my advice. in other news, it is damn chill to see jack again even though i saw him last month,...im still waiting to tape "the apartment episode 2." i havent been drunk like this in a long ass time and it was mad cool to see jack drink with us too, even if he drank a wimp's amount; it was still more than i had ever seen him drink. oh yea...chelsea come drink with me | | |
| The house that my parents live in, in Cupertino, is the same
house that my family has lived in for 12 years now. It's the longest
time we have lived in one spot, with the second longest time our family
having lived in a house being only about 4 years. I will always think
of my house on Phar Lap as my true home.
I was talking to my mom
the other day though, and she was talking about how her theme for one
of her art projects for a class was memories from her life. This got
me thinking...
Although
I lived on Phar Lap for the majority of
my life, my BEST memories of growing up were in the small little duplex
we lived in, when my family first moved to Cupertino, when I was about
8. Looking back now, I like to think that we as a family were much
closer back then. Perhaps it was the small size of the house itself;
there was no second floor/ first floor separations...in fact, the whole
width of the house was probably just a bit over half of the width of my
(parent's) current home. Combined with the fact that my sister and I
were innocent little kids and not disobedient teenagers, and that
quarters were so "cozy," we were bound
to always be near each other. Unless we locked ourselves away in our
rooms, (which was rare because my sister and I were little fraidy cats
and left our doors open even when sleeping in case something was
wrong), my family was in constant connection with each other. Whoever
said that being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up hit it
perfectly on the head. Maybe our house was small because we didn't
have any money at the time, but as a kid, you don't realize these
things, and you just enjoy the fact that you and your family are happy
together. My grandparents lived in the other half of the duplex, and
my grandfather built an awesome patio in the backyard, to which my
grandmother complemented by building an awesome garden. Often when the
weather was warm, my family and my grandparents would eat korean
barbeque for dinner on the patio korean style while watching the day
fade away. Even now, whenever I imagine myself at total peace, it is
on that patio in the garden of my family's old duplex, on a warm summer
sunset, hearing scattered
chirping and smelling delicious food being prepared. I actually
remember one time, I was so relaxed sitting outside on the patio I fell
asleep. When I woke up, just as the sun was setting, I found out the
my mother had put a blanket over me. At that moment, everything was
ok. I didn't worry about homework that I had to do...I had my family,
they loved me, and that was all I needed.
When we
moved to Phar Lap, I was beginning my teenage years and my
rebelliousness began to grow. That is when my father turned into a
hardass and also the reason why even though I consider Phar Lap to be
home, it is also a source of many bad memories. But it wasn't always
like that. When we lived in the duplex, I was a very sweet young lad
and my father was a generous person. Even though we didn't have much
money, my father would sometimes bring home surprise presents for my
sister and me...and they were presents that were awesome...computer
games for me usually. I even remember the last spontaneous present he
got me...it was a poster he thought I would really like. But when he
gave it to me, I wasn't too thrilled about it, and the disappointment
on his face was evident. No more presents after that. I still have
that poster though...the next time I go back to Cupertino i'll be sure
to bring that back with me to Vegas and hang it up with pride, as a
reminder of the good ol days. Because the important thing is not
whether or not I liked the poster...it was the generosity and sacrifice
on my father's part that mattered. I realize that now, and I don't
think it's too late to hang it up in appreciation.
Thursday
night was taco bell night, because my grandfather loved mexican food
for some reason. He eventually got to his senses and thursday nights
became KFC night. On sundays, we would watch America's Funniest Home
Videos together. It was my dad's favorite show, but we all loved it
too. I think we all liked that fact that we were together as a
family. We were indeed, very cozy.
So many good things to
remember from that house. My appreciation for classical music started
there too, when my mother would always play classical music on the
stereo during breakfast before school. I also began to appreciate my
momma's home cooking at the time...I understand now why my dad always
complains about my moms cooking, especially when HIS mom was living
next door. For a Korean man, nothing will ever replace his mother's
cooking.
All this comes from the conversation I had with my
mother. See, for her theme, she went snooping around my room and my
sister's rooms for objects she could use for her art piece. She found
an old pocketwatch that my grandfather gave me in my room and a
nutcracker statue in my sister's room. Then, during her demonstration,
as she was explaining to the class what each object was and what it
meant to her, she started to cry. The objects themselves were
reminders of a time past, when we were one family. Now I am in Vegas,
and my sister is in New York. When I think of this, and how my mother
must have felt during that demonstration, I can't help but think of
those happier times when we lived in that small duplex. Sometimes
though, I have nightmares about moving back there because we are poor
again. It's a nightmare though, because it won't be the same as it was
12 plus years ago. We are the sum of our experiences and we are not
the same people that we were when we lived there. In my nightmare, I
realize that even though I am back in the home of my childhood
happiness, the house is nothing without the people who made it a happy
place, and those people no longer exist. I think my mother realizes
this too; she and I are alike in many ways, including being
artistically inclined and philisophically natured thinking. I don't
think my father and my sister think about the past too often though.
Don't start thinking that we all hate each other though...my family
still loves each other very much; we just aren't as close as we used to
be.
In conclusion...it's a sad thing that we human beings are
so linear. This makes me think that time is a trap, something that we
should constantly be striving to break free of. Happy memories can
sometimes be the most painful memories, especially when you can clearly
remember them in the middle of a life which seems to be void of
something precious. You desperately want to reclaim that part of your
life...to live it again and stay in that moment forever. But time is
merciless. It only moves forward. | | |
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