I recently posted a video on my YouTube channel about what I’ve been reading so far in 2011. Soon after posting the video, I finished up Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh and picked up The Best American Essays 2010 (BAE). And that’s when a circle that began earlier this month was laid out for me. I read in circles. It turns out that although I don’t read on a schedule or plan what books I’m going to read in the future, somehow the next book always finds me, or suggests other books that I should read.
from The New Yorker
A recent circle: Earlier this month I read a collection of George Orwell’s essays (Did you know his real name was Eric Blair? Neither did I), Books vs. Cigarettes. I liked it. I had read 1984 a few years before and bought this particular collection back when I was living in Exeter, England. I finally got around to reading it this year. Two books later, I picked up Waugh’s Brideshead Revisited and finished that earlier this week. Last weekend, I went to a dear friend’s house and borrowed a book. That book just happened to be Down and Out in Paris and London by none other than George Orwell. Only, that’s not all. So, when I finish the Waugh, I pick up BAE and what should I find inside but an article on George Orwell. THEN, because the circle is not yet complete, I was searching for Books vs. Cigarettes on Kenny’s Kindle to see if he could get it there. It wasn’t available, but guess what I did find. A book entitled The Same Man: George Orwell and Evelyn Waugh in Love and War. HOLY CRAP! If that’s not a circular reading pattern, I don’t know what is. I didn’t purchase Same Man and I have yet to read Down and Out or the Orwell essay in BAE (A Fine Rage by James Wood, first published in The New Yorker), but it still totally counts because I’m going to read it and yet another circle will be completed and probably in the process a new one begun. (Usually, my “circles” don’t consist of the same author again and again. It just so happened that Orwell was the common link this time.)
Most of my reading happens in this way. It’s half the joy I find in reading, the way literature is all connected in some regard. I understand that this makes me a big fat NERD, but who cares? As John Green said in one of his vlogs, “Nerds are allowed to be un-ironically enthusiastic about stuff. Nerds are allowed to love stuff, like jump-up-and-down-in-your-chair-can’t-control-yourself LOVE it. When people call people nerds, mostly what they’re saying is, ‘You like stuff.’ Which is not a very good insult at all. Like, ‘You are too enthusiastic about the miracle of human consciousness.’”
(And no, I haven’t read Animal Farm. And no, I probably won’t read it. I have a particular sensitivity to animals suffering, being vilified, and oh yeah, dying.)
So, maybe you guys have heard of the Apple girl. If you haven't, here she is.
Yeah, she's pretty cool with all her little iPhones lined up. And here's the funniest thing I've seen in a while.
The funniest thing is that he's just saying numbers and pushing them over and over. I love it when he says, "I'm Korean," just like she usually says, "I'm Apple girl."
Your Saturday laugh has been delivered courtesy of my husband, who apparently has nothing better to do than to watch parody videos on the Internet.
I listened to this song on the bus home tonight. I realized a few lines of the lyrics captured the culmination of some debate going on inside me about convenience and comfort and what they cost.
standing on the bridge watch the water passing under- neath it must have been much harder when there was no bridge just water now the world is small remember how it used to be with mountains and oceans and winters and rivers and stars...
I live in the country of convenience. We have the fastest Internet; we have the most efficient airport in the world; we have ridiculously affordable health care; we have free shipping with online shopping; we can order food and have it delivered in a park, on the sidewalk, in an alley. And that delivery guy will come back later to pick up your dishes. We live in apartments surrounded by every kind of convenience you can imagine. Korea is saturated with convenience. Everything is done for you. You don't even pump your own gas in this country.
And I will tell you, dang, it's comfortable. I sit around and think about ways I can make my life even more comfortable. And generally, I discover how many things I need to achieve this. I need a better rice cooker so my rice will stay fresh longer and cook faster. I need a car so I can go where I need to go exactly when I like and skip the 10-minute-wait between buses. I need a better computer so I can spend more of my time in front of it. I need cable TV so I can watch programs I have seen before in English. I need a better cell phone so that I can Twitter on the go (because does Twitter really count if you must be tied to your computer and an Internet connection?). I need a personal trainer who will roll my belly out of bed in the mornings and march me to the gym. I need a personal chef (okay, I sort of have this one covered with the HubbO, but still) who will force me to eat things that are good for me while at the same time relieving me of the worry about and proximity with the food I consume. I need a lot of money so I don't have to teach. Because then I could spend all my time on the Internet, and everyone knows how great the Internet is!
And all of those things are fine. I love things. They're great. And I love easy and fast.
But what I don't love is who I become when everything is easy and fast. I don't love how those things prompt me only to consider further what more I need in order to be comfortable.
These things never stir me to create, to commune, to care about the person next to me. These things never allow me to test my patience or my discipline, both things running on empty. I am beginning to be drawn to the simple things in life. And I want to find beauty in waiting on the bus, instead of inconvenience. I want to order my life so that I don't need my rice cooker to keep my rice for 49 hours. And I want to stop seeing only my needs and the things that would make my life easier, instead of discovering the ways I can reach out and embrace a bit of difficulty or complexity. I want to stop complaining about being busy and having no time, and rejoice that I have a community to be a part of and people to care about. I want to work hard and build something for myself instead of ordering it to be done for me and delivered to my door for free.
I never understood why artists and writers always went to the woods or sparsely furnished shacks on the beach. I always wondered why they needed to seclude themselves from everyone else to get their work done. But it's not the people or the place they're running from. It's the things. The convenience and the comfort. Because let's face it; how many times can you site comfort as the great motivator? It's not. It just doesn't move us. It doesn't make us dance. It doesn't help us value vulnerability with each other or even within ourselves.
And we're ruining things with it. I crossed a good number of swinging rope and stone bridges built across small streams and hung across large coursing rivers in the Himalayas. And I was so thankful for those bridges. They held me and led me to places I couldn't have dreamed up. But the bridges are simply not enough. It's not enough that people can walk through the mountains and cross the water with relative ease now. People can't drive their cars through the mountains, and well, that's just annoying, isn't it? So not only do we want bigger and better bridges, we want roads. We want a clearly marked line to follow on the map. We don't want to twist and turn and investigate corners. We want to know where we're going and exactly how many minutes it's going to take us to get there.
The roads that are being constructed and laid through those mountains are destroying Nepal. Eventually, it won't be any big deal to hike through the Himalayas because you'll simply be able to drive through it. Without relying on the generosity of mountain farmers to feed you. Without poking dirt-bathed babies tummies on a stone wall. Without talking to the people of this land and trying your tongue at their names for the earth and its inhabitants. Nope. You'll be able to drive through it, with your air-conditioner on, your iPod plugged in, and all other experiences drowned in the comfort of your leather seats and the convenience of your four wheels.
Perhaps if I was Nepalese and walked everywhere, I would think differently. Perhaps speaking from the heart of comfort and availability and the opposite of hardship, I find the simplicity of others' lives beautiful. Yet, I have felt that simplicity work within me. I have walked through those mountains, trying to avoid the roads and being thankful for small bridges. I have seen what it is like when there are "mountains and oceans and winters and rivers and stars." And I met myself clearly there. My vision was not blurred by modern gadgets that keep me busy. Because the longer I think about it, the more convenience hides me from myself. Extremely comfortably hidden, actually. I don't have to look inside myself to, to examine myself, to reflect on my character, my choices, my heart. I certainly don't have to consider anyone else in this scheme of the easy life. If it's easy then it's good. If it's difficult, or complex, or fuzzy then it needs some work and someone needs to fix it so I don't have to do that work myself.
I'm tired of it. I'm tired of feeling the things I have within me being hushed by my comfortable life. Of course, we'll see where all this weariness gets me the next time I have to, God forbid, stand in a line and wait for something. Or when I need to order my time more wisely so I'm not 5 minutes late to everywhere. Or when I need to turn off the TV and shut down the computer in order to sit in front of the looking glass. We'll see. I am looking to simplify my life. Hoping to ignore the comfortable and choose instead the creative.
But y'all. I still want a car. Really, really bad.
Please disregard my purple underwear that make an appearance in this video. Because those are my fat jeans. And although I'm getting ChubbO again, the fat jeans still fall down (so I feel like there's hope left. Maybe?)
And yes, all choreography is original. Thank you. I know I'm talented and someone should pay me to make up dances for kindergartners. Actually, the "wooooaahh, wooooaahhhh" bits are inspired by childhood ski trips in which Holly (The Sisda) used to cabbage patch it down the bunny hill all wrapped up in her snowsuit. So, thank you for your inspiration, Hols.
So, yesterday I posted probably the worst video possible for those of you outside of Korea because now all you've been exposed to is the current strangeness that is the K-Pop scene. Of course, G-Dragon is still a hot little muffin and maybe you might think so if you saw him in one of his other videos, with his band called Big Bang. Here's one of the songs that I can actually listen to while I watch the video of his perfect teeth. So what if the man wears headbands and ponytails?
But anyway, I wanted to give you a little taste of what we're listening to in our house. My taste is mainly informed by Kenny's preferences, obviously. But I like this music. I've decided to give a short video playlist for your listening pleasure. You can thank me in the comments.
First up, here's Lucid Fall. He is my favorite Korean artist and I love ALL his songs. Every single one. If I had to pick a Korean artist to listen to for the rest of my life and I could only pick one, it'd be this guy.
Okay, and this is simply the happiest song in the history of happy songs. No matter what it makes me smile and dance. I like Kim Jong Kook (김종국) in this video because he's not being all manly and obsessed with working out. So, turn up the volume and do a happy dance!
This is from a band called Rollercoaster (롤러코스터)and this is their song Last Scene. They're kind of old school, but I enjoy it.
For another seriously happy song, here's Humming Urban Stereo with Hawaiian Couple. The video is quite cheesy, and so is the song from what I can gather. But I like it anyway. In the beginning of the video, the guy is saying, "I'm sorry. I don't know what I did, but please forgive me." And later, the announcement in the train station says something along the lines of, "The love is train is coming. So hug each other." Listen to this song and go hug somebody!
Last of all, this is a freaking awesome song you should go listen to. The embedding has been disabled, but click on this link and go listen. It's incredible. Seriously, start your day with this. Or end it with this. Or split it in two with this. It's by Jeon Ja Yang (전자양). It's perfection.
So, that's kind of what's going on in our house, Korean music wise. Besides all the G-Dragon YouTubing that's going on. Hope you enjoyed this foray into Korean music. I find that even if you can't understand the words, you can always hear the feelings. I can pick out certain phrases and words, but I often just enjoy the sound. My Korean classes begin tomorrow though! The free ones I get through my freaking awesome school. So, maybe I'll be able to sing all of these at the noraebang the next time we go! (Noraebang is karaoke in Korea. It literally means song room. And you go into your own room with your friends and have drinks and snacks and sing your heart out.)
On a P.S. sort of note: I was observed by my principal for the first time today. And basically all I did was the exact same thing I always do. Except, um, I ignored the fact that she was there. I feel like it went pretty well. The kids were great. They didn't freeze up or act any different. Perhaps they participated with a little bit more enthusiasm than usual, but hey, it could only help, right? Still loving my job. Wonder when the new will wear off?
Pardon all the excessive editing done to this piece. It was the only clip I could find.
Anyway, as I was saying, "FAAAAT! Fat fat fatty."
So Matthew Broderick is moi and Nathan Lane is also moi. This is what my insides yelled at my outsides when I found myself standing naked in front of the mirror this morning. Oh yes. You're hearing me right. The Belly is back! In full force, too. But.
I just finished reading Anne Lamott's Traveling Mercies this afternoon. For some reason, reading this was so insanely perfect. She has this way of praying that is so simple and full of faith. When she is scared, she says, "I'm scared. Help me." When she is frustrated with someone, she writes her name down and says, "Help me," and slips it into God's Inbox. When she is thankful, she says, "Thank you, thank you, thank you." And for some reason, this seemed so profound to me. I guess growing up in the church, I've always had this idea of what prayer is and what prayer should be for me. I felt like, at times, that my prayers should be "advanced" (whatever that means) because I'd been praying for a long time and usually when you do something for a while you get better at it. So I thought I should be better than "Help me." When I was in high school I started to write my prayers. It worked for me. It helped me to focus and to get down what I wanted to say. And it helped me be honest with myself. And also provided a record to look back at and see who had been faithful. Let me tell you- it was never me. But then it became an obsession, and I began creating rules for my prayer writing. I'm so good at making up rules. And I always think, if I can just follow the rules then I'll have it all together.
I know, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, do you really think anyone ever has it all together? Haven't you figured out by now that this all together mess is a myth? And yes! Yes I know. But somehow the knowledge that all together will never exist hasn't kept me from reverting back to behaving as if it is a possibility. So anyway, I created rules. Then I decided I would break free from my rules. And when I did that, I pretty much liberated myself from prayer altogether. And this has been a seemingly interminable cycle for me. I'll find something that works. Then I'll mess it all up by adding rules and making schedules and disappointing myself fifteen hundred times by not keeping my rules or my schedule and then I feel guilty and then I hate myself for feeling guilty and then I decide to rid myself of the rules and schedules by ridding myself of the thing that was being ruled and scheduled. (Sometimes run-ons are perfection.)
But Anne Lamott, man. She does not have it all together. And she has dreadlocks. And she wrote a chapter on her dreads. She also wrote a chapter on feeding herself. It was perfect. And she wrote about how when her car broke down, she prayed, "Help me." And when her heart was broken, she prayed, "Help me." And when her son wanted to go paragliding off a mountain she prayed, "Seriously. Help me." Her faith is worked out in her life in these tiny small bursts. And these small bursts pile on top of one another and make her faith huge! And I decided that I had put restrictions enough upon prayer, upon eating, upon how my life should go.
And fat works into this how?
I ran today. This evening, actually. I thought about running. I thought about it for a little while longer and realized that I felt like running. I felt like running. And then, I put on my running clothes (seriously, it was a squeeze. The Belly was like, in a hurry to return. No slow weight gain here.) and then, I ran. I just ran. I didn't run seriously far or seriously hard. I ran down the street with my husband trailing along, walking behind me, encouraging me with his little wave and his smile. I took walk breaks to hold his hand. And then I ran some more.
I didn't make up any rules about how far I had to run or how many other times this week I was going to run. Or how because it was Tuesday and not a Monday, it wasn't really the right day to start running again.
I could beat myself up about gaining a lot of my weight back, but really I didn't work that hard to lose most of it. I did work a lot before the wedding and I'm back to wedding size now. The weight I lost while traveling was from hiking for 5 to 6 hours a day, and puking my guts out and then eating nothing but toast for 2 weeks. I didn't get high-school thin because I wanted to. I didn't really have a choice. But this time, I'm choosing it. And I'm not making rules or schedules. I'm going to stop making excuses. And I'm just going to do it.
Anne wrote a chapter on forgiveness. And forgiving myself is something I rarely do. So, I'm forgiving myself for going a little overboard on the American cuisine and for having dessert every night and for lying around doing nothing.
Okay, don't get all antsy on me now. It says Part I because I didn't want to overwhelm you with too much Marriage Mush because there's not a trash can handy for me to barf in when I gag on my general happiness and marital bliss. And I also didn't think you'd really appreciate 3 different posts all about the same thing, so I figured I'd go ahead and mix it up for you so that you get a little bit of wedding junk, a little bit of honeymoon rewind, and a little bit of my present life all blended into one utterly confusing, but hopefully entertaining timetable.
As I've said before, Kenny and I wanted to make our wedding not just special for us (which is a given), but something memorable and touching for our guests. We wanted to introduce our relationship to the Koreans who would attend the service, especially those that watched Kenny grow up in their congregation. They knew Kenny had gone to England to study English and had come back with an American girlfriend, but that was about the extent of their knowledge. And for our wedding to be meaningful for anyone besides us and my friends who knew more than they ever wanted to about me and the HubbO, we decided that we should make a video.
Most of the credit for this video goes to Kenny. He took the time to subtitle the entire thing, which was not easy as I understand it. He had a lot of help in the editing department from one of his good friends and they spent hours and hours on it. I think they did a beautiful job and I was thrilled with it. I feel it really encapsulates our identity as a couple and also gives a sense of our history and how we've grown together. We played this at the beginning of the ceremony and right after it was finished, our walk down the aisle began.
Many of my friends in Korea attended the ceremony and I can't tell you how wonderful it was to look out and see their smiling (sometimes watery-eyed) faces supporting me and joining me on such a day. The actual ceremony was the only time that day that I was completely able to relax. I even got a little bored every once in a while since the entire thing was done in both English and Korean. But I wish that all of you who read this blog and support me here could have been there. And so, I share this video with you, too. Hope you enjoy watching as much as we enjoyed making it!
This is a short film in which you will see why I insist on calling my blog ChubbO Chubbington, despite my small weight loss and efforts to not be a fatty in my wedding dress. Because, as I've said before, being a ChubbO is not necessarily about your size or your scale, but about the way you think about and enjoy food in ways that other people only dream of. And yes, my film editing skills are still in the negative.
When I moved to Korea, I imagined being forced into a size 2 pair of jeans because there would not be the delicious food that I was used to gorging myself on. And to a point, this was true, because let's face it, the thousands of calories I consumed through sweet tea were cut and also, there is no Cracker Barrel or Chik-fil-A. However, this lack of fried and sweet goodness only served to heighten my cravings. And so I learned to crave other, available, foodstuffs. And in this case, the 7-11 stocks Haagen-Dazs coffee ice cream bars wearing a delicious jacket of chocolate. And so, I crave it. And I cannot be dissuaded. It is a serious disorder. In short, my taste buds in combination with my appetite make for one serious dictator. And I shall never see a size 2 pair of anything. Unless they stop making chocolate, iced caramel macchiatos, Haagen-Dasz, waffles, dark chocolate, and fried chicken. Then maybe. But what would we really have to live for?
As I was walking back from lunch today with my caramel macchiato disappearing quickly through my straw, I thought about how the woman at the counter smiles, every time, the same smile. She knows what I'm going to say, but still, just in case, she asks me what I would like. And everyday I order the same thing.
And for some reason that made me think about communities. As I continued to walk, it occurred to me that there are two kinds of communities (although I admit there are many more than just two.) One is formed by happy accident, sewn together by our habits, our addictions, or our routes to work. These are the kinds of communities weaving us together with threads of circumstance, proximity, and convenience. We serve each other because it's easy. We interact with each other because we're in the same place and the same time. These types of communities are not chosen. I don't think "Gee. I'm joining a community," when I walk up to the counter and order my daily tall iced caramel macchiato. So, there are the communities that you take part in maybe without even noticing them. And these are also good because when you do notice them you can appreciate them and think how wonderful it is that you've secretly been interacting within a fellowship of all sorts of people and you didn't even know it. But now you're pretty sure that the barista's smile as she hands you her beautiful caffeinated creation is something that helps you get through the rest of your day with the monsters. And you hope that your smile and your cheerful thank you helps her through the rest of the drinks she has to make.
And then there are other kinds of communities. The ones you choose to be a part of. And they take some work. I'm thinking in particular of the expat community here in Korea. It existed for me mostly online, and even then it wasn't something I really participated in. I was on the outside, even from an internet standpoint, too shy to comment or too ready to say exactly what I thought. But when I made an effort to meet these fabulous people in person, it was worth it. Yeah, yeah, blah blah blah, we've heard it all before, you say. Well, perhaps. But. I wanted to be a part of something and it was work, actually. Every time those people get together it's at least an hour away from my house, and it's usually time I spend away from Kenny and time I spend not doing laundry or reading or writing or various other things I could use as excuses. But it's always worth the effort. And I find that it's the communities you work to be a part of that nurture us and help us to grow the most. It's communities like this that come together and support people in need. It's communities like this that teach you how to laugh at life and at yourself. It's communities like this that make your life richer and deeper.
Actually, this isn't at all what I wanted to say. I thought it out and I wrote some notes down in the front of the collection of short stories I'm reading on the train, but it came out all wrong. Oh well. Participating and being part of communities and sharing goals or interests or weirdness or whatever- it's always worth the effort.
Anyway, watch this video. Because it will make your life better. Guess where I found it? Oh yeah, it was over at Tamie's blog. I'm going to have to make a tag soon so that you can look at all the places I've linked to her blog over the course of the past few months. It's getting a little ridiculous and she probably thinks I'm some crazy stalkerish person who reads every post in a pose of anticipation and excitement, never goes away unsatisfied, but does have to cleanse herself of the envy that constantly rises within because her writing is just. that. good. Well, if she thinks that, then she's right! Anyway, watch this video. It's as awesome as you are.
For those of you who are angry that all you've seen in this post is wedding crap, here is something completely unrelated and random and hilarious. Gotta love Flight of the Conchords, eh Tariq?
And now it's my bedtime. I did get a good night's rest last night. Apparently the God of the Sleepless had mercy on me. However, it was a bit of trouble actually falling asleep because I was so nervous about sleeping. I was like, "Go to sleep, Go to sleep, Go to sleep go to sleep gotosleepgotosleepgotosleep!" And therefore sleep stood off in the corner mocking my pitiful attempts to lure him into bed with me. But after a while, he could resist me no longer and I had weird dreams until my alarm went off, which I snoozed for an entire half hour! So thank you to all of you who petitioned the Great Master of All Things Soporific on my behalf.
By the way, I love you. And I'm not just saying that, either. I find myself thinking about you during the day. And at first I feel all socially retarded and disconnected from real people. Then I smack myself in the face and say, "Your readers and fellow bloggers are real people and you are SO lucky to know so many quality non-porno, non-stalker, non-freakish ones!" Now go waste some time on YouTube watching all the Flight of the Conchord videos available to you.
I recently posted a video on my YouTube channel about what I’ve been reading so far in 2011. Soon after posting the video, I finished up Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh and picked up The Best American Essays 2010 (BAE). And that’s when a circle that began earlier this month was laid out for me. I read in circles. It turns out that although I don’t read on a schedule or plan what books I’m going to read in the future, somehow the next book always finds me, or suggests other books that I should read. 
