Tuesday, May 31, 2011

How to Grow Up in a Religious Cult

Be born into it. There is no single better way to get involved in a cloud of Jesus glitter then to have absolutely no choice but to believe it from your exit from the womb.

Grow up thinking wearing skirts and not cutting your hair means you have a close relationship with our savior and Lord, Jesus Christ. Pity the other girl's at school because they don't have a fucking clue that they are going to hell for their Full House haircut and acid wash jeans. Feel bad, feel really really bad.

Try to tell the other 2nd graders that Jesus picked me to "bear this cross." Expect roaring laughter from the expression "bear this cross." Recognize that you do not know what the term "bear this cross" means, but your Sunday school teacher always says it so just pretend.

Be at the church at least 5 days a week:
Monday- Choir Practice
Tuesday- Nursing Home Ministry
Wednesday- Bible Study, Children's Church, Youth Service
Friday- Youth Service Part Deux
Sunday- Regular Service

Try to figure out why you have never had cable television, or only watch Sesame Street and have no clue in hell who New Kids on the Block are. Why does every other girl have them on her lunch box?

Go to Jesus Camp. If you are a boy play basketball and baseball. If you are a girl, watch the boys play basketball and baseball or go take a course on how to do hair. These are your options. Spend the entire day trying to figure out what you will wear to church that night. Get a boyfriend/girlfriend for the week of camp. Secretly hold hands under a blanket on the hayride, if you are really daring go behind the tabernacle and sneak a kiss. Don't get caught. You will be sent home.

Be uber-judgmental. When new people come to visit the church do not show them understanding or love instead judge them for wearing pants, smoking, reeking of booze, exposing their cleavage and having children outside of the marital bed.

Vow to stay a virgin till you're married. Solidify this vow by wearing a 'promise' ring. Figure out and participate in every other sexual act outside of vaginal intercourse...this is your loophole. When you find out your friends in the cult have slipped and had sex release your judgmental glances and nods when they walk by. Couldn't you have just given him a hand job instead? Whore.

Only date people in the cult. This means by the time you are 18 you and four of your friends will have made out with/dry humped the same guy/girl.

Don't attend or visit: concerts, professional sporting events, movie theaters or bars because it is against the cult handbook... if you do, don't get caught.

Do attend or visit: bowling alleys, Christian rock concerts, restaurants with bars attached and amusement parks...these are allowed for some reason. Don't complain about it, it is all you have.

Go to Cedar Point (large Ohio amusement park) every Memorial day from the age of 12-22. Claim to be wearing skirts to be modest yet hike them up to your netheregions when you have to get in a roller coaster that buckles between your legs.

Only hang around with your cult friends. Friends outside the cult will corrupt your mind and make you think something is wrong with said cult. Go out to eat with cult friends, usually T.G.I. Friday's or Applebees as this is the place to be seen and flirt with the hot soon to be preacher. Gain a ton of weight from eating too many 1/2 off appetizers.

Watch every friend slowly get married and start having babies as early as the age of 16. Pine to meet your soul mate so you can have sex...I mean, form a long and lasting eternal bond with another Christian.

Go to University. No matter how much it may be discouraged just go. Have your significant other who works the night shift at a plastic shop make you feel extreme guilt for missing Wednesday night Bible studies for your Psych 101 course.

Start to get a clue. Ask as many questions as your heart desires. Do not follow blindly something you truly don't understand. Be told by your pastor that you: "have always been a bit rebellious" and "you need to fall back into line."

Research ways to leave the country. Visit Asia. Meet people who teach abroad. Apply to teach abroad. Get accepted to teach English in Korea.

Ask your pastor permission to leave the cult and go work in Asia. Be told "no, I don't feel comfortable with you leaving."

Leave anyway.

Finally be happy.

Finally be free.

Listen to the comeback album from New Kids on the Block.

An Account of How I Spent 24 Hours Straight in Meijer

Two things about me: I have a hard time saying no and I can't pass up a good dare, combined this makes for a lethal combination.

It was a simple challenge:
What: Spend 24 hours in Meijer...a large all you need one stop shop, similar to Wal-mart and Tesco.

When: July 6th, 2007

Who: Just me, although later I did buy a goldfish to keep me company.

Where: Meijer located on M-59 and Hayes Road, Shelby Township, MI, 48313, U.S.A

Why: A few reasons...First off it was exam time and I was procrastinating like it was my job, like I was the CEO. Secondly, I had just split up with my boyfriend and as much as I enjoyed random bouts of crying and reminiscing of the good times we shared I needed something, fuck, anything to distract me. What better way to do this then to spend 24 hours, alone.

5:00 p.m: It begins. A couple of my friends accompany me inside. Take a couple photos to prove I was there and I was doing this. Walk to the clothing section to look at the skirts (shocking) and then bid me so long, farewell, auf weidersein...they take my cell phone.

5:13 p.m.: I am no fool, start strong, head straight to the video games. Spend a bountiful amount of time browsing games I can not afford to buy. Pick up the newest 'Pink' album. Who listens to this shit? Wait for an 11 year old to get off the X-Box. Play a really dull racing game for over 2 hours. Waste time, waste time. I hate Nascar games. Think 'why am I doing this?' Continue doing it.

8:35 p.m.: I am being nostalgic. I think me and the ex fought in this very cereal aisle. It is amazing how much time can be wasted in the cereal aisle. What the fuck do they put in Cocoa Pebbles to make them so addictive? Oh, that's right, chocolate and sugar. Duh.

9:47 p.m.: I am staring at the air soft guns. I want one. But why? I would never shoot anything with it. I want to embrace a more masculine side of myself which can only be achieved by holding a fake gun.

10:30 p.m.: Super fucking bored. I just broke the under 20 hour to go mark and I am regretting taking this dare. Wishing I smoked so I could semi-justify sneaking outside for a cig. Walk over to the cigs to see how much they are. $3.25?!?!

11:52 p.m.: Candles are cool. They come in so many different scents. Pick up a 'Fresh Cut Lawn' scented one. This is pleasant. Wonder how I can become a candle scent engineer. Is there such a career? Will invent one in a few hours.

12:00 a.m.: MIDNIGHT!!! Where can I go sleep? Have always wanted to sleep in a bed shaped like a race car. Meijer has no beds shaped like race cars, in fact they have no beds at all. Settle for sitting on a bean bag instead. It doesn't have any neck support. Who designs these things? Can't sleep.

12:02 a.m.: Books make people sleepy. The magazine and book aisle is an odd place. Harry Potter rests carefully next to a Danielle Steele novel. Who is reading Danielle Steele novels? Try to recall a friend or relative ever being seen with a Steele novel. Settle for the newest issue of GQ. Figure if I can't hold a gun to feel more masculine then I will hold a men's magazine instead. Flip to an article of how men are becoming more metrosexual. Reevaluate whether I picked up the right magazine to feel more masculine.

2:30 a.m.: I am receiving odd looks from the cashier who has watched me try to pick out a candy bar for over an hour. This may be the most important decision I make tonight, must take it seriously. Settle on a Three Musketeers bar. Pay my 85 cents and head over to grab a Mountain Dew slurpee. Will suffer with sugary snacks.

4:00 a.m.: Pet aisle. Why haven't I ever owned a turtle? or a hamster? Spend 30 minutes watching the dead goldfish play bumper cars with all the other fish. Ponder up possible scenarios of how the goldfish died. Buy a goldfish. Best 45 cents I have spent recently. He is white with a little orange patch on his belly. Spend another hour sitting in the food court trying to figure out a name for my new friend. Decide on 'Bandit' as this is my ex's dog's name and I am a sappy heartbroken loser.

6:25 a.m.: Under 12 hours to go. I have not slept. I am so bored I am having a lengthy conversation with Bandit about how under rated Clinton was as President. I hate G.W. Bush and now so does my goldfish.

8:00 a.m.: The food court is open. Spend 25 minutes examining every possible breakfast scenario. Do I feel like french toast sticks or a breakfast sandwich? Walk back over to the cereal aisle and debate buying a box of cereal. Walk to the check out line with a box of Apple Jacks, carton of soy milk and a Power Rangers bowl. This is the right decision. Steal a spoon from the food court. Sit and eat as I read 'On the Road.' Try to look as hipster as possible. Impossible as I have on the uniform of a cult follower: thick glasses, hair in a bun, no makeup, awkward length skirt, Abercrombie long sleeve t-shirt.

12:00 p.m: Finished reading nearly half of 'On the Road.' The assistant manager is eyeing me. Must find a place that is less out in the open. Decide it is my lot in life to be a hipster. Go to the clothing section. I WILL TRY ON JEANS! Skip over to the jeans. Shit! Where did I put Bandit? Run back to the food court to see a 10 year old eyeing my fish. Step back child, I will cut thee.

1:29 p.m.: Am fading quickly. Will keep busy by eating. Have accomplished to eat more calories then a professional body builder. Why doesn't Meijer have a McDonald's?

3:06 p.m.: "Test driving" a bike near a sign that says PLEASE DO NOT RIDE THE BICYCLES. Purposely run into another bike and watch them fall over like dominoes. I have cabin fever. I am doing things just to make sure I can still feel. I am a drama queen.

4:00 p.m.: The last hour. The final countdown. Time to be reckless. Open a box of legos and start to assemble a pirate ship.

4:05 p.m.: I can no longer sit stationary. Am dancing around the aisles to music that is only playing in my head. Head to the televisions. Sesame Street is on. Two-step to 'Rubber Ducky You're the One.'

4:56 p.m.: Decide it is appropriate to take a victory lap around the border of the store. Am high fiving strangers as I look like a deranged ex-convict.

5:00 p.m.: VICTORY! Run out of Meijer feeling a euphoric high. I have accomplished the impossible. I have managed to out-nerd myself.

5:49 p.m.: My lame ass friends forget to come get me. Have no phone in which to contact them with. Start walking home.

Monday, May 23, 2011

How Playing 'The Oregon Trail' Prepared Me For Adult Life

I am an activist for all gaming systems everywhere. I have owned: Nintendo, Super Nintendo (my favorite), Nintendo 64, Gameboy, Gameboy Advance, Nintendo DS, XBox and the Playstation 3. I talk a big game, I know a lot about the games but I am mediocre at best. I lack the skill and dedication it takes to really be the master of any one game yet alone multiple games. Despite my averageness I thoroughly enjoy getting immersed in another virtual world, well that and I like shooting things and narrowly avoiding hitting bananas in character driven automobiles. I am telling you all of that to say this: I hate computer games. With the exception of a brief (3 year) stint playing WOW (don't judge me) I have found only one computer game that has brought me the joy that only a console and control can bring: The Oregon Trail.

Chances are if you attended public school in North America, at some point The Oregon Trail became a very welcome part of your curriculum. The educational goal was to teach elementary school children about pioneer life on the Oregon Trail. For those of you who do not know, the Oregon Trail it was the journey pioneers made from Independence, Missouri, to Oregon's Willamette Valley. The player took the role as wagon leader and then had to protect and make the best decisions for his party of settlers. It fucking rocked! High fives all around to the education system on that one.

While The Oregon Trail can be viewed as a simple game that taught children about hunting buffalo with an arrow key and caulking the wagon to trudge rivers, in hindsight it dealt with some hard hitting life lessons.

Life Lesson #1- You are in Control of the Direction your Life Goes

The entire point of The Oregon Trail was to figure out which direction will get you and your wagon-'o'-people to the final destination safely. You could go north because of the promise of buffalo or you could head south to avoid the December blizzard...only one thing is certain, you must move forward. Forging a path of your own is not the best part of life, it IS life. Make wise decisions, make stupid decisions, learn from the mistakes or don't. Date the crazy girl as long as you really, really like her. Skip the gym if you feel like watching The Office instead. Have the one night stand (but use protection). Drink that extra beer. Stay out later then you planned. Make friends who matter. Eventually you'll get there, we all will.

Life Lesson #2- Your Actions Impact Other People

There is one big river in The Oregon Trail, super huge. As a leader you must decide whether to save time and money by either fording the river or caulking the wagon to float it across. With this you run the risk of people or oxen drowning and the possibility of losing rations. On the flip side you save time so you do not get stuck traveling in the winter when people are more likely to get ill and there is less food to hunt. The other option is to pay to take a ferry across the river. This can be expensive, time consuming and often puts you in risk of traveling through the harsh winter. What to do? With either decision you may be risking the lives and well being of the other people in your wagon. While I am not overtly concerned I will drown a friend it is nice to remember from time to time that the things we do impact others. Perhaps it's a bitchy look you didn't even realize you gave, a joke
that rubbed someone the wrong way or an intimate encounter with someone who wasn't yours to sex all up on. Fuck, we're human, we make mistakes, we act selfishly and irrationally but if someone is walking really slowly in front of you you needn't kick them in the back of the shins, just curse under your breathe and walk around them.

Life Lesson #3- Death, it Happens, Sometimes Unexpectedly

Throughout the game it is possible that a member in your party would die and as if that weren't traumatizing enough for the 8 year old child the oxen were also prone to death. People would drown, get bit by snakes, suffer from measles, dysentery, typhoid, cholera, and exhaustion. Little words would flash at the top of your screen "Molly has died of dysentery." There goes your wife. There one moment, gone the next. People die, every day, I will die, you will die. It might be dragged out or it might be in the blink of an eye. When we recognize we are mortal and our days are numbered we are free to live life to the fullest. On a side note stay far away from under cooked pork.

Life Lesson #4- It is the Journey that Matters, Not the Destination

It felt like Christmas every time I arrived in the Willamette Valley a winner but without fail whether I lived or died I would go back to the beginning and play it all over again. It wasn't winning that mattered. It was so damn fun to hunt, to make decisions that could alter the outcome of your life and the other people in your wagon, to purchase and pack supplies, to pick a career...it was as close to responsibility as my 8 year old self would get. With video and computer games it's easy to rush through and beat them as quickly as possible but once it's over thats it. Sure you can play it again and again, till your fingers blister, I sure as hell know I did but it's only really special the first time you play. When you are discovering the secret passages, beating a villain, finding your strengths and working around your weaknesses. It's the same in 4-D as well. I catch myself in a constant state of trying to figure out where it is I am off to next and I forget I am living life right now. Try to really savor the food you eat. Enjoy the way your pillow forms to your head and it's coolness when you flip it over. Really take in the way your friends laughter sounds...it's breathtaking. I know the following statement reeks of cheese...but smile, a lot, life is too damn short.

What I Would Tell the Kids Who Used to Bully Me

Dear Bully,

That is what you are by the way. It isn't playful teasing or joking if the person it is aimed at is not laughing with you.

Thank you for pointing out the fact that I was fat...I really didn't know. Without you I may have forgotten that I was: ugly, chubby, frizzy haired and had gaps in my teeth. I may have gone more then an hour without feeling insecure about my physical appearance. Thank you for keeping me grounded. I wouldn't have wanted myself to get a big head.

But really: You taught me to be humble.

Thank you for that time you spilled an entire bottle of milk on my head and then followed me around the halls 'mooing.' That was cute. So creative and witty...you had depth.

But really: You taught me compassion.

Thank you for that time you tripped me in front of the entire school auditorium when I was graduating from Kindergarten. It would have been far to out of character for me to have made it somewhere without falling. I trip on flat surfaces.

But really: You taught me to embrace my flaws.

Thank you for nominating me for middle school homecoming court as a joke. I know when they announced my name over the speakers you probably felt really accomplished. You probably thought: "I showed her. She is so ugly people laugh at her name, at the mere idea that she could be a homecoming queen." This was a group effort. It took many people many times over to get my name on the ballad.

But really: You taught me that ignorant people will follow blindly.

Thank you for telling me no one would ever want to date me. That I would die a virgin. That I would be more likely to marry a dog then get married at all.

But really: You taught me no outside person can fix me. I must do that on my own.

There is a good chance you will not remember the specific times you hurt me. There were so many instances and you made so many children question their very existence...how could you possibly keep them all straight?

But really YOU need to know: I can not count the times I ran crying to the bathroom, how I learned to walk down specific paths in the school corridors in order to avoid seeing you, how I starved myself for months just so you would leave me alone, how I lived in constant fear every time I stepped foot in school.

You may have forgotten all of this. I know I would try to. I wouldn't want to live with the guilt that came along with knowing I caused someone so much pain...but really, thank you. Because of you: I don't make fun of situations that are outside of one's control, I try to mentally walk in others shoes, I remember we never truly know what people are dealing with in their life. Luckily for me I made it out stronger...but other people aren't so fortunate.

I'm crying as I am writing this not because the memories hurt or because I wish I could go back and stand up for myself but because what I know now is that you...the bully...you must have been in so much pain too. Maybe if you would have taken 5 minutes to know me we could have helped each other through the pain instead of intensifying it for the both of us. It's never too late to change...and I forgive you.

Monday, May 16, 2011

7 Questions That Haunt Me

1. How Do You Do What You Do To Get Things Done?

I suffer from Procrastination. It is so bad I should attend Procrastinators Anonymous except I would probably put off going till next week when I don't have to catch up on Dexter. Time is tickin away and I am constantly analyzing the amount of time I spend not being productive. Then again every lazy moment I spent lying in bed, watching dumb sitcoms, looking at flight prices to places I may never get to go, skyping with people I haven't spoken to in months, reading music blogs, listening to NPR podcasts, daydreaming, sipping on the 5th cup of coffee...I didn't regret one of them.

2. Will I Ever Identify a Place That Feels Like Home?

Home is where the heart is...right? Or is home what you make it? Or is it a person? Or is it a feeling? I don't know. I have felt an intense comfort with people I have met here, so much so that I am staying for a 3rd year but would I say Busan is my home? No. Would I say Detroit is my home? No. Is my family my home? No. If they were and I am not with them then I am homeless as I type. Is home a shelter? To an extent I am sure but that can't be everything. Maybe home is a soul mate, maybe not. Maybe they aren't real...and maybe they are. Maybe home is a state of mind you find when you are completely comfortable with who you are.

3. Does Anyone Still Believe in God?

I grew up surrounded by Christians in an environment where God was coming at me from all angles: pray for your food, volunteer, witness, pray, repent, don't be close friends with non-Christians, pray some more, feed others, come to choir practice, wear skirts and don't cut your hair, only listen to music that exalts the Lord, Eminem is the devil, don't lie, obey your parents and you will live a long life, we are living in the end times, Jesus is coming, homosexuals are going to hell, sex is bad until the marital bed and to an extent I believed it all...until I didn't. Some aspects of Christianity and the Bible I still very much respect and admire.

Matthew 25 shows what it means to be an empathetic human being:
34 “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.
35 For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in,
36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
37 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?
38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?
39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

Since I moved to Korea the amount of Christians I have met has decreased substantially. I chose to leave this bubble in which I grew up and meet the world head on without so much as a naive clue as to what I was getting myself into...and I couldn't be happier. With a small exception here most people I have met are either agnostics or atheists and now that I don the same label (although subscribing to any one label is limiting yourself) I often wonder is there anyone who still believes in God or a higher power? Is this really it? We are, we live, we die, we rot. It is haunting.

4. Will Facebook/Blogging/Social Networks Destroy Our Future Careers?

Most likely. I love this blog too much to stop. I hope this doesn't come around to bite me on the ass at a later date.

5. What Will I Look Like When I am Old?

I am going to cross my fingers and hope I got my mama's genes. She is 55 and looks 35 and is quite possibly one of the most stunning individuals on the face of planet earth...inside and out. The real reason I want to quit smoking is not because of a cancer that may never come (cause frankly I am 24 and mentally immortal) but it is the dumb wrinkles that come along with it. Yes, I am vain to a minor extent. I care what I look like. Sue me.

6. How Am I Going to Die?

I know it is silly to even ponder about this thought because it is inevitable. We are all in the fast track lane to check out of this planet so why bother worrying about it? Because I can't help it. In a perfect world I would hope I die in my sleep, holding hands with the people I love, old, wrinkled (not from smoking) with a huge plate of Greek food in front of me. If I do die by some strange accident or some careless mistake whoever finds my body please make it look like I was doing something cool or being heroic. Thanks.

7. Will I Ever Meet Someone Who Made Me Feel Like You Did?

No.




My Beautiful Mom, I Love You So Much.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

R.I.P. Soggy Waffle Fish

I had a different blog the first year I was here titled 'Soggy Waffle Fish' after a terrible run-in with a red bean ice cream concoction that was shaped like a fish. It was entirely dedicated to the fashion mishaps and faux pas of the Korean culture. I am deleting my baby today as I haven't posted on it in months and I am diggin my new blog. I thought it would be appropriate to end it on a high note and put together a little blog scrapbook of the more clever moments...

#1 The Visor
Do you find yourself in urgent need to protect your skin from the sun and weld sheet metal at the same time? Look no further. Korean's wear these giant visors to protect themselves from the sun during outdoor activities such as hiking and fishing. However I am conviced that some people just wear them because they like the way they look as I have seen many a person wearing the visors at night and/or with 98% cloud covering.



#2 The Couples do Matchie Matchie
This very real phenomenon is an every day occurance. It consists of couples, who are so ridiculously in love that the only way to express said love is to match each other so that the entire world can see that they are in a commited relationship. Nothing says love quite like: matching purple converse, plaid shirts and acid washed jeans. Je t'aime.



#3 The Mixing Patterns
I know back in the USA, plaid is all the rage. Anyone who has survived the Nirvana grunge phase back in the early 90's, kept one throwback plaid shirt that has recently made a comeback throughout the Forever 21's and H&M's of the world. If you listen to Sufjan or Sigur chances are you own a plaid shirt. If you hunt and have a full beard chances are you own a plaid shirt. If you are in love with Salvation Army, Goodwill or any other vintage or discount clothing store chances are you own a plaid shirt. Korea is no exception to this trend. The tartans are out in full swing and everyone from infants to the elderly is not immune. I think the quality I appreciate most in Koreans is their dare to go there attitude when it comes to mixing two different plaid prints into one outfit. If you like the design of something the logical equation is to wear more then one of them.

"Once you can accept the universe as being something expanding into an infinate nothing which is something, wearing stripes with plaid is easy." -Albert Einstein



#4 The Dressing Your Children Like Grandparents
Have you ever experianced the awkward sitution when an older adult tries to have you guess their age? The question is usualy posed "How old do YOU think I am?" To eliminate the chance of guessing too old and possibly offending or insulting said older adult you choose to lowball the age as to offer the most seemingly sincere compliment the universe has ever heard since someone told Michael Jackson his nose looked realistic. I never in my wildest dreams thought I would feel this same awkwardness when trying to guess a Korean childs age.



#5 The Man in Tight Pants
Flesh colored pants painted to your physique, when did this become a good idea? I feel borderline immoral posting this picture but my task when writing this blog was to show the world real things people are wearing over here and folks this is as real as it gets. I spotted this man standing in line for the Pirate ship ride at the local amusement park (and yes, he did come dressed like this to the amusement park). It actually wasn't his pants that caught my attention but his John Travolta hairdo circa Saturday Night Fever that he and his buddy were sporting. I feel as if I am doing this man and other tight pants wearing Koreans a giant injustice by not telling them their bums are highly visible much like the way someone tries to politely tell you when there is something green caught inbetween your teeth. When it comes to pants, men in Korea (although this list is appliciable to all) should abide by 3 basic rules:

1. If you size 2 girlfriend has larger pants on then you perhaps you should go up one size.

2. If you need to lay on a bed and/or apply baking grease to your thighs in order to button said pants perhaps you should go up one size.

3. Leisure suits died in the 1970's...let's keep them there.



#6 The Animal Hat
I would like to take a moment to apologize for my several month long sabatical from this blog. After complaints from my 3 groupies back in Michigan I felt it was time for a quick Soggy Waffle update. Since we are making our way into the summer months, I really feel a deep burning passion to share with you one last winter trend. Very popular among infants and toddlers 'round the world but catering to a greater niche market here in Korea I give you the furry animal hat. As far as my take on this fashion flop it does serve a very functional purpose of warmth but...so do many other winter hats. Why wear a beanie when you can wear a cow, bear, duck or pig? This fits into the very feminized culture where the men can carry purses and dress pants can be tighter then spandex and there is a desire to wear furry animals upon their head. I will be looking forward to beach season which starts promptly on June 1st. Perhaps there will be fluffy animal speedos...cross your fingers.



#7 The Mullet
Mullets (sigh)...where do I even begin? First off I would like to dedicate this post to my principal. She is a well respected educator, went to gradute school at Penn and got a mullet yesterday. Despite the hard knocks I deal asian fashion Korea, for the most part, is very up and coming on fashion trends. If this is the direction the tide is turning it may be time to jump ship. The first mullet recorded in history was donned by Welsh pop singer Tom Jones in the 1960's and later the faux-mullet by glam-rocker David Bowie in the 1970's. The mullet seems to take on a persona of it's own. People who rock out with their mullet out no longer need to be addressed by their proper name but are referred to as "oh, that one guy/girl with the mullet." Mullets are like the band Nickelback...were not quite sure how they became popular but someone must like them because they have survived this long. I spotted this woman while on the island of Jeju a few weeks back. It was a beautiful hike, gorgeous sunset, pristine weather, good conversation...no matter how hard I tried to draw my attention to something else my eye kept catching her mullet. Thats the thing about mullets...they are show stealers. In Korea: where the jewelry is bedazzled, the booty shorts reveal major crackage and the heels are 5 inches tall anything used to grab attention is a good thing...even the mullet.




Soggy Waffle Fish...Thank you for being a friend.