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Note to self:

I wasn’t aware it’s been over a year now since I’ve posted anything here. I haven’t felt inspired to write for quite some time.  And even though things have been hard for me, instead I’d like to write about someone else’s struggle.  I’m sure I will never truly know why things happened the way they did, but on some level I am deeply sympathetic to Park Bom, and 2NE1’s disbandment makes perfect sense to me.

News of Bom’s “drug scandal” (not what I’d call it, but what I think doesn’t matter in context) changed things forever for 2NE1. The criticism from people was unreal, and given the drug she had brought into the country was an anti-depressant, it’s obvious she was already in a vulnerable state of mind.  The group was put on hiatus, and eventually Minzy left the group entirely to pursue her own interests.  To think of what it felt like for Bom at this time is much like taking a look at my own life.  How could she not blame herself for this?  The whole world was looking for someone to accept responsibility, and well-intentioned or not, the things people were saying were destructive.  Destructive to her and her heart.

I know this because I’ve been there. Every day I combat my own feelings of my mistakes and my shortcomings, and I’m sure Bom does too.  But other people’s opinions weigh heavily on our minds, and even things that are said in support of us will sometimes have just the opposite effect.

It doesn’t have to be anyone’s fault that 2NE1 broke up. Maybe it was CL’s fault, and YG’s too. Their favoring her marketing and solo debut detracted too much from everyone else and made disbandment the easiest option.  Maybe it was Minzy’s fault.  Being impatient and unsupportive and wanting to distance herself.  Or maybe it’s our faults; Blackjacks and society in general.  Maybe life happened, and 2NE1 suddenly found themselves at different places emotionally.  Can we blame CL for having incredible potential?  Can we blame YG for helping her and focusing on her while the group is on hiatus?  Can we blame Minzy for being driven and not wanting to waste another moment she could be using to invest in herself and her future?  We can, but all the while Bom is listening and her heart is hurting, because at the root of all the blame is someone who feels there is no one to blame but herself.

YG has stated Bom was 2NE1’s undoing, and on the surface perhaps this is true. But maybe instead of blaming her or anyone else involved, we should just be accepting.  Accepting of 3 young women (shout out to Dara!) who are ready to face the world and make themselves proud.  And accepting of another young woman who has faced more criticism than anyone ever should, and recognize that her flaws are our own.  Does anyone know how this makes her feel?

We all make mistakes. We all feel inadequate.  We all feel flawed.

We are all Park Bom.


I hate myself.

I just really, really hate myself. I have a fleeting moment of confidence where I feel I’m sufficiently capable of being a grown up and then I remember that I’m awful and such a thing is indelibly unattainable.

I went back home for Christmas to spend the holiday with my family and it was the worst.  I got into it with my mother on Christmas Eve after being treated like a second rate human being compared to my siblings by both her and my dad.  Long story short I told her I’m not certain I would even come by anymore if I weren’t financially dependent on them (my parents).

Then I got home and I started to think, you know, maybe it’s really time I just settle on a life course and see where it takes me already, because my current path hit a dead end about 2-3 years ago. I started craving my hometown, and not the town my parents live in that I spent my adolescence in, but the town we relocated from to get there; the town where I spent my youth.  I haven’t been back in half a life time.  Literally.  I was 12 when we left and I turn 24 this year.  Honestly, though the move never bothered me at the time, I find myself wondering what my life would be like today had we not left.  Our family was more bonded before the move, particularly between all of us kids’ individual relationships with our dad.  Though I’m not certain that had anything to do with the move…

Anyways, my point here is that I find myself wondering lately if I would be a different person today had we stayed. I see all these people I grew up with settling into careers and living capable, fulfilling lives, and I just can’t say the same for myself.  If I stayed, would I have been influenced to pursue other hobbies growing up?  Would I have found a talent or an interest I could devote myself too?  My neighbour, a boy my sister’s age I used to play with, he’s still playing hockey 12 years later, playing for a minor league team and undoubtedly pursuing a long term career out of this.  One of my best friends growing up, a crafty girl who always loved to doodle and make art projects runs her own art store now and seems to absolutely love what she does.  Radio emcee, astrophysics, salon manager, graphic design, you name it.  Everyone I know is doing something they love, and it’s a product of years of pursuing that specific interest and making it into something they can do for a living, all the while I sit in my apartment alone wondering what my interests even are so I can do something other than hate myself.

I moved to the city to pursue laboratory sciences, and after 1 semester at University I quickly fell off that band wagon and realized I wasn’t near passionate enough to devote 4 years of my life, blood, sweat, and tears into something I chose on a whim.  However, I recently found a more comfortable program for me for the same thing at a different institution and I wonder if I should just… try again.  I think probably my rationale behind wanting to pursue such a career is that growing up, my sister’s two closest friends both had mother’s working this exact job or similar to it.  And that caters to me in the sense that I’ve always wanted to have a family of my own and I idolized both these women a lot growing up, so much so that it would almost feel fulfilling to me to pursue this in that regard.  They were both so friendly; always smiling and always so caring.  They both were ambitious and I feel they both truly have everything.  A husband, children, a career, and the patience and resilience to manage all 3 of those things without ever losing face.  I wish I could be like that so desperately…

And that brings me to today. I lost my hair ties.  “What?” you ask?  I spent like a crap ton of money on these ultra-cute hair ties for me, my sister, and my sister in law’s stocking stuffers for Christmas, and I was incredibly excited to wear mine, because I’ve been growing my hair out for what seems like forever (I had an anxiety attack and hacked off months of effort which set me back a lot) and finally I am able to tie my hair back properly.  So I go hunting for my hair ties I had last seen not 2 weeks ago… and they’re gone.  I was already running late for work today so I left in a panic and yelled at my mom over the phone to look around her house in case I left them there… nothing.  It really got to me.  It’s really getting to me.  It will really get at me in the morning.  They were one of a kind that I bought online and they’re just gone without a trace.  Then I spent 8 hours at work hating myself and hating my life because karma just really seems to dislike me and these kind of things always happen to me!  Side note: while typing this my laptop died because I unplugged it for the first time in half a decade to move my makeshift coffee table around so I could accommodate my new area rug and forgot to plug it back in…  You see??

And these things ACTUALLY FACTUALLY bother me. I mean I go ballistic and you’d think you’re witnessing someone who should be sent to an asylum.  I throw tantrums like a 2 year old and coincidentally I’ve been throwing them ever since I were 2!  I become overwhelmed with anger and hate for myself for being stupid enough to misplace something I was so excited about and I honestly feel the urge to harm myself.

What’s worse is I’ll probably call my mother again in the morning and rip her a new ass hole like she had anything to do with this at all, just because I need to scream at someone other than myself to relinquish some of my anguish.

And now I’m sitting here typing, thinking that my ever being an adult is such a farce. I’m a financial and emotional cripple.  How is someone like me supposed to go through school and practicum and 30 years of dedicated work without blowing a gasket on someone undeserving over something petty…  I don’t know that I can.

What’s holding me back the most though is my lack of motivation. What is this really all for?  At the end of the day I don’t have someone who loves me, I don’t have children who depend on me, I don’t have hobbies or friends… I have no reason to do anything more than what I’m doing right now… and that’s despairing to me.  I want more from life but I can’t achieve it.  I wouldn’t see the point if I could.

“Nobody loves me, everybody hates me”

“Nobody loves me, everybody hates me!”  You used to chant.  Maybe you still do, but I wouldn’t really know anymore.  It had been so long since I’ve heard from you.  I miss you so much.

I couldn’t believe you called me the other night.  When I saw the caller I.D. on my phone say “***** Home”, I was in total shock!  That’s why I answered the phone with a reluctant “Hello?”.  Since it was your parents home phone calling me and not your cellphone, I instantly decided either:

A)  Your mom was worried about me as I’ve avoided all contact with her lately as well, or

B)  You broke up with your boyfriend and moved back home, obviously looking to your best friend for support once again.

A part of me really hoped it was “B”.  I was so hopeful that you’d moved back home and found yourself feeling lonely and missing me, the same way I feel about you almost every day!  I even tried fishing for the details right off the bat, but I don’t know if you noticed.

It meant a lot to me that you called me again.  A long time ago I decided that I would not go out of my way to make first contact with you, because you always wound up being too busy which made me feel so insignificant.  I also just felt weird being the one to seek out your time.  Our whole friendship, we’ve succeeded by your prying and constant seeking attention from me.  Back then, I knew that I was important to you.  Now I’m not as sure…

I know that I will always be someone you care about, and I know that you do not hold me in any negative regard, but I can’t help but feel that my friendship isn’t important to you anymore.  And I don’t know how I should expect myself to feel anything different…

If I’m not important to you anymore, I want there to be a finality to it.  I don’t want to hold onto memories of you anymore.  I don’t want to miss you and to fleetingly anticipate spending time with you and your family again if it is likely never to come true.  I don’t want to hold on to you the way I’ve been holding onto everything else that makes me sad.

Forgive me if I’m being cold.  But you’ve known me a very long time now.  You should know that I don’t abide by the formalities involved in personal relationships.  If I find myself feeling unnecessary, then I remove myself.  Please let me remove myself if I’ve become unnecessary to you.

Your chant has become my own.  Don’t torment me with your friendship if it doesn’t exist anymore.

Love as leverage

I’m sorry that I brought love into our relationship.  And I’m not being sarcastic or self-pitying.  I am truly sorry I made love a factor in your being with me.

I remember when you first said “I love you” to me.  I could tell that it wasn’t something you meant or wanted to say.  I never let myself believe it or think it out loud though, because I knew there would be too much regret on my behalf if I had.

We were spending the weekend at your house, and very late at night we decided we were ready to take our relationship to the next step.  We were intimate, or at least moving along swiftly towards breaking that boundary.  And that’s when I doubted myself and made the biggest mistake of my life.  I told you that I’m not sure we should continue if we do not love each other.  You would have been my first, and having love tied to that was important to me.

I remember that you were very off-put.  A little startled that I’d interrupted what we were doing to bring up such a dangerous subject.  You jokingly said you “lub” me, or you “luff” me, but my innocence was prudent.  I know that you reluctantly said you “love” me just so you could be with me in that moment.  You knew it, I knew it, but we never talked about it.  I am sorry for that.  I should have either went for it or stood firm.  I shouldn’t have been coy and encouraged you to say those three words before I would participate in something I initiated in the first place.

I seduced you that night.  I seduced you into your bed, into my heart, and into my fantasy.  And ultimately I’m paying the price because of it.

I know you never loved me.  It was so silly of me to build such a mountain from your morsel.

In the end though, I do hope you know and accept that I truly loved you.  Because all of my nonsense aside, you too had the power to spare me this painful reality.  This truth I’ve come to live by where love is used as leverage, and unrequited thusly.

Megami no Ramendesu

Megami no Ramendesu.  Or something to that effect.  I watched The Ramen Girl earlier this evening and this is what the lead character named her ramen.  “Goddess Ramen” is what the movie subtitled it as.

The movie was very warm, if that makes sense.  It felt like a special little niche movie for people like me who aspire to experience the Japanese way of life but in all reality have no idea what that even means.  It was a safe movie for me to watch, and it made it easy for me to dream of moving to Japan and finding myself in a little noodle house, all the while meeting the love of my life who is real and true to me.  Aaaaand in reality, I was sinking into my sofa and eating pizza with my pants off.

Nonetheless, there is something about Asian culture and Asian people that is always perceived by me as so… genuine.  For some reason I truly feel like Japan would be the land of the rising sun, and moving there would bring me endless joy and bountiful friendships.  It’s so silly, I know!  I don’t know the language or any customs, and I DO know that I am a picky western eater, so in reality I would probably find myself more lost and lonely there than I ever was here…

I have two regulars who come into my work first thing in the morning that have a son who owns a bar just a few doors down.  They make such an enchanting couple!  They are Chinese-Canadian, and the wife was the first customer whose name I ever remembered.  There was something about her I found to be so alluring.  Her face is so elegant and she always seems so refined.  So dignified.  It also helped that her name is so unique!

But anyways, I ran into her at her son’s bar about a week ago.  Not long after, her husband came in and joined us.  We talked for what seemed like hours, but I really didn’t keep track of time.  At one point the husband said he thought of a good job for me–teaching ESL in another country.  They told me how beautiful Japan is and how much people there would instantly take a liking to me.  They made me marvel the idea of living abroad even more than ever, and they said they would talk to their daughter-in-law, a Japanese native, about the details surrounding such an experience.

I was so thrilled!  But so nervous…  I’ve never been good at being spontaneous.  My mind instantly begged to wonder about what I would do with my cats, where I would leave all of my furniture and belongings?  What would I eat there?  Where would someone of my height shop for clothes?  How would I communicate?  And if my cats could be flown there, what do I feed them?  It’s so overwhelming thinking about how much my life would change!  Am I perhaps more content just to sit here in my solitude, watching movies and playing games; immersing myself as a third person in what I can only imagine to be a happier way of life?

In the end of The Ramen Girl, the lead character fails to have her Goddess Ramen blessed by the Master Chef, but has still found herself worthy of becoming her teacher’s successor.  She returns to America and opens up her own ramen house.  Though her Goddess Ramen was not perfect, and her teacher’s hopes for her and his noodle house had fallen through, she had finally found something that was her own.  And I guess the point I’m trying to come across here is that–whether I find it in Japan or in Canada or anywhere inbetween–I just really want to find my Goddess Ramen!

Eyebrows and Happiness

I noticed something about myself last night.  I tend to take out my stress on my eyebrows.  I fussed with them for hours.  And I always do.  I pluck and I prune them down to absolute perfection.  And I hate them.

I think that perfection is a joke.  I don’t want perfect.  My eyebrows match–you could dissect my face with lines all over and find that one brow is perfectly in line with the next, arch and all!  And I hate them.  Not even my face is that symmetrical.  (Which in all fairness causes me a lot of distress as well…)

But the point is, I broke my nose in kindergarten, and it is bent to the left.  I have TMJD and my jaw is crooked.  One eyebrow–until I whittle it down and fill in the underside–is naturally higher than the other; a nice fit for my eye that is also slightly higher….. my face isn’t perfect.  And it never will be.  Perfection is a mockery and it doesn’t make you happy.  It just laughs in your face once you’ve achieved it and come to realize that you are actually no happier now than you were before.  In fact, you’re probably less happy because of that.

Why do I expect so much out of my life?  I know that deep down, I don’t care what I have, as long as I have someone to share it with who loves me and all of my imperfections the way that I never will.  It’s just when I see my friends and siblings start meeting people and getting married and going to school and finding themselves that I become extremely jealous and want everything that they have and more.  More money, more clothes, more love, more perfect.

So I’ve decided that I don’t want my eyebrows to be perfect.  I want them to be happy.


I’m not really sure what this is going to be about; I’m not really sure how I feel.  But I need to write.  It’s been a long week.

I decided, after a year of putting it off, to start watching season 5 of Breaking Bad.  This was after the finale, so I could watch all 16 episodes marathon-style.  Breaking Bad has for whatever reason become something I strongly identify my relationship to my ex with.  It was a show we watched together.  It was a story he brought into my life.  I was so bitter to it without him.

I taped the first 8 episodes for us to watch together last summer.  We were broken up, but I hadn’t anticipated him moving on so quickly.  I thought we would keep in touch, and I would come back to the city after we had some space and watch it together.  And we did.  5 episodes or so.  I couldn’t really tell, because we weren’t watching the show so much as it was playing in the background as we’d brought our own struggles to light.  He left for good and I gave up on it.  I deleted all the episodes.  Thank heavens for Netflix.

Maybe it’s silly that I get so emotional over something like this, but I feel like this show had seen us through everything.  It didn’t seem fair to me that a television show was granted a finale–a conclusion–and I wasn’t.  I didn’t get closure.  And in a way?  I identified with Walter White.  Not in the sense that I’m a drug kingpin or lust for murder, but I identify with his sense of loneliness and defeat.

I feel so self-destructive.  I feel like I have inadvertently gone out of my way to destroy everything in my life.  And for what?  I don’t even have the motive.  I don’t have any money, or any sense of thrill in taking the risk.  I’m not breaking bad.  I’m not bad or good.  I’m just alone.  I feel like my life has come to a cataclysmic halt and there’s nobody left for me, so I sit in my cabin in New Hampshire and slowly rot to death.

Now that I am finally finished the show, I am at a loss.  I don’t even know what to feel.  I mostly just want to know what my ex feels, in regards to the last season obviously, but really just life in general.

So farewell Breaking Bad.  You will always be a part of my misery.  And in a weird way, I’m grateful for it.  I’m now going to dissolve into nothingness and adopt your conclusion as my own.