When You Don't Need To Photoshop a Thing

Happy Tuesday, everyone! (Or, happy Monday for those of you Stateside. Hi, Mumsie!) This is the first untouched photo I've thrown up here in a long, long while. I've decided I definitely need a white Jindo with a pink nose. This sweet face melted me into a puddle of goo which Kenny had to scoop off the pavement and haul to the car after our Chiaksan hike this weekend. More pictures to come! And more puppies!

Also, make sure to click on over to see the new April design! I took the header photo at Guyongsa, a temple at the bottom of Chiak Mountain.

The Books that Changed Me

From childhood, where my mother frequently found me holed up in my closet with all my books stacked in a big pile, slowly reading one and putting it on another pile beside my Playskool oven and stove combo, books have been shaping me. (Alas, I never imagined this rather round and squishy shape being the end result, but I'm working on it, people!) So, when I read The Korean's Top 10 List of Most Influential books, inspired by this NY Times editorial, I made a mental note to make one of my own.

And surprisingly, I actually read my mental note a few days later. Usually those things get put behind large signs that say, "Drink coffee," "Feed the cats," "Shower." They get lost along with all my other mental post-its covered in reminders to pluck my eyebrows, mail that letter, and clean that spoon I found in my cup holder. But this mental note was not lost. Like Ross Douthat and The Korean before me, I'm also not listing my Top 10 Favorite Books. I'm sure the lists would overlap in a lot of places, but I'm going with my gut here. These are in chronological order, approximately. 

1. The Bugg Books by Stephen Cosgrove

 (Granted, a series and not a single book, but influential nonetheless!) My grandmother owned almost all of these "Topsy Turvy" books, that had two front covers and two stories that met in the middle. I would stay up late at night whenever I spent the night at her house reading a story, flipping the book over, and reading another. Every story starts with the same lines:

As you lay on a summer's day

In a cool and shady place,

Don't look up into the skies;

Instead look down and squint your eyes.

              Squint your eyes so very tight,

           And if you wish with all your might,

       You'll find the land of More-Than-Small.

             In this land live buggs- that's all!

These stories were just like the Serendipity books, also written by Stephen Cosgrove, and happened to be the first series of books I ever read my way through in the closet next to my stove. Each story contains a different moral, teaching children to share, to value fellow-bugs over money, to be kind, and to believe in the magic of the animal world. I believe that these books are responsible for my uber-sensitivity when it comes to animals. Believing that even small bugs that are insignificant to me (and all other furry animals for that matter) have their own struggles with good and evil and work so hard to make the right decisions makes it really hard to step on a spider without thinking twice. (Crickets are different, though. They have no moral compass at all, so a swift shoe swat is completely ethical in my view.) I hold Stephen Cosgrove personally responsible for the tears I have shed at even the slightest hint of animal cruelty, the breath-interrupting sobs at those humane society commercials, and the headache I gave myself trying not to cry when the boy had to push the ape and be mean to him in order to get him to leave and be free at the end of that Born To Be Free movie. These books definitely shaped the way I see the world. 

2. On the Road by Jack Kerouac. I heard this book before I read it. A good friend in high school, Taylor Jones read this book to me while we sat in the hallway during 3rd period Latin. I was a teacher's assistant and he was in Latin II, but this class was Latin I because the other didn't fit into his schedule. So, most days, we ended up on the cold, hard floor in the hall. I was fascinated with Kerouac immediately. This book changed the way I thought about writing and using profanity in writing. When Taylor read, I could hear Sal and Dean; I could hear how every word fit perfectly, even the bad ones. For a Southern Baptist sophomore in high school, this was life-altering. I didn't choose to use "bad" language myself until college, and even now, I'm very selective about it. My thoughts on what it is that makes profanity profane began that day in the hallway at LaVergne High School.

3. Beowulf.  This book changed the way I interacted with every text I came across afterward. Perhaps this is less the book, but more the teacher under which I read it and discussed it. This was the first book that I felt shift things on my insides, in my soul. I felt other books had perhaps influenced my thinking, but this one affected my heart. Maybe that's vague and perhaps it's not completely something I could ever explain. Can we ever fully comprehend the exact way a book becomes a part of us as we read it? I'm not sure. And I'm okay with that.

4. Nicholas and Alexandra by Robert K. Massie.  For me, this book did for history what the Bugg Books did for animals. It made the people who used to live before me real.  I just happened to pick it up while browsing through the basement floor of Shorter College's musty library. I really had no reason to be down there. All the literature and English major's books were on the second floor, upstairs, where the only bathroom I would poop in besides my own was located. I remember truly connecting with the characters that Massie resurrected and reading the letters between Nicholas and Alexandra, cherishing the way he called her his "wifey."Before reading this, history was hard for me to connect with, even in college. Of course, I had always connected with history through fiction (i.e. Faulkner's Light in August; Ellison's Invisible Man and Juneteenth), but this made me see real people as real people.

5. Wilderness and the American Mind by Roderick Frazier Nash.  I was a junior in college taking a class with the brilliant Dr. Wilson Hall when I read this book.  It was on his syllabus. Reading this book was my wake up call to the ethics of environmentalism. It is an interesting history of the way America's ideas of wilderness evolved over time. Even the LA Times calls this book one of the hundred most influential books in the last 25 years. Almost all of my ideas about what wilderness is and should be were born in this class, and are a direct by-product of this particular text.

6. The Collected Poems of Anne Sexton. This book had to duke it out with a number of Billy Collins' collections. Because I view Billy Collins as pretty much the master of the English language. Period. However, I think Anne being a woman had something to do with the way I connected with her poems. This collection of poems forced my heart up into my throat so many times. I cried over these verses, I agonized with these lines, and I felt for the first time that someone had looked inside my brain, rooted around in the depths of my darkest corners, and put what they found on paper in the exact words I would have used. Sexton helped me fully realize that good poetry is universal and how. Whenever I want to read good poetry, I reach for this volume. (Billy Collins is such a darn close second. And perhaps he changed the way I wrote more than Sexton ever would. But I think the way Sexton writes about sex and relationships as a woman pushes her up there, just a smidgen.) 

7. The Poisonwood Bible: This book taught me that truth is not the same thing as fact. I found this book on the bookshelf of an 80-year old English woman. Her name was Shiela and she was living in Cornwall when Kenny and I visited her in January of 2007. I began reading it and when we went back to Exeter, headed straight for Blackwell's to purchase my own copy. (I was more eager to get my hands on my own because this amazing girl I attended Shorter with recommended it. And when something has the Joanna Burgess stamp of approval on it, whether it be books, music, or plays, it's worth taking the time to experience it.) This book confirmed so many things I felt about Christianity and it's war on culture that was (and is) so distasteful to me. I also read it during the time when I was discovering how much of our lives are woven into narrative arcs so we can make sense of them. How we turn our lives into stories. How truth resonates through even fictitious characters, places, and circumstances. And how sometimes the truest things never took place at all. 

8. White Guilt: How Black and Whites Together Destroyed the Promise of the Civil Rights Era by Shelby Steele. Let me remind you again here that these aren't necessarily the best books I've read, but simply the ones that changed or influenced my thinking the most. This book doesn't necessarily provide very many answers for the continued racial tensions in America, but it does do a good job detailing what's not working and many of the reasons why. I think this book resonated with me because I did and sometimes still do tend to wallow in "white guilt." I almost always side with racial minorities or the weaker party on any issue, regardless of right or wrong. I just feel like the old white men have won so much and made the rules for so long and something in me feels responsible for that, even though I know it's ridiculous. This feeling has many unexpected consequences that I feel Steele illustrates clearly. I guess this book changed the way I think about power, the people who have it, and the people who don't have it.

9. Incandescence: 365 Readings with Women Mystics (Rereleased as A Little Daily Wisdom) by Carmen Acevedo Butcher. This reader definitely influenced my views on Christianity and what it looks like. It introduced me to the Mother in God, the passionate women who shaped our religion and yet so seldom are recognized or even heard of. The mystery of Christ has been lost. We are so afraid of the word "mystical" anyway. This daily reader from Carmen Butcher opened up a feminine side of Christianity that resonated powerfully within me. Her translations are incredible. I feel like these mystics are writing me a letter; my name seems to be at the top of every page, and I imagine their scrawling signatures at the bottom. I love reading of the strength, the vision, and the gentle humility of these amazing, suffering, and saintly women. The binding of my copy is busted and some sections of pages have fallen out. I keep the book together with a rubber band. I know I should purchase a new copy that isn't about to crumble or lose its guts, but I love this book. I love the underlining in it, the notes I made, the way the particular sentences take me back to the feelings I had when I first read them. This is one of those books that leads you down a path of personal revelation, resolution, and revolution. I love it.

10. The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy: This is one of those books that would also make it onto the list of my top 10 favorite books I've ever read. Reading it while in India was amazing. It, along with White Tiger, finished up the work that the Poisonwood Bible started. The narrative made India come alive for me while I was there. It also made my world so much wider. Roy's writing is perfection. I loved rolling her sentences around in my head. I used to think that Ceremony by Leslie Marmon Silko was the book with the most perfect word choice, the way her sentences lined up so neatly one after another, flowing into my world and showing me another. But I think Roy finally topped Silko. 

There are so many more books that belong on this list. A few that didn't quite make the cut: A Light in August by William Faulkner; Turtle Island by Gary Snyder; The Gift of Good Earth by Wendell Berry; Bluebeard and almost everything else by Kurt Vonnegut; What We Say Goes by Noam Chomsky; A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers; Catch-22 by Joseph Heller; The Collected Poems of Charles Bukowski; The Journals of Sylvia Plath; Everything by Rumi; Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison; The Jungle by Upton Sinclair.

I am still being shaped, chipped away at, and refined by the books I read. 

What books have made you who you are?

Good, Good Friday

Death, be not proud, though some have called you

Mighty and dreadful, for you are not so;

For those, whom you think you do overthrow,

Die not, poor Death, nor yet can you kill me.

From rest and sleep, which but your pictures be,

Much pleasure, then from you much more must flow,

And soonest our best men with you do go,

Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.

You're slave to Fate, chance, kings and desperate men,

And do with poison, war, and sickness dwell,

And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,

And better than your stroke; why swell you then?

One short sleep past, we wake eternally,

And Death shall be no more; Death, you shall die.

~John Donne: Holy Sonnet X

That is the Good Friday Morning reading in Following Christ: A Lenten Reader to Stretch Your Soul by Carmen Acevedo Butcher. (I know her!) And I thought it was so appropriate because the flowers on our veranda have been sick and weary of the dark grey skies and weather. Like me. But today, they seemed to perk up and behold the sunshine. A few more good, good things on this Good Friday:

You didn't really think I'd post two times in a row without squeezing in some photos of the kitters, did you?

Have a lovely, rejuvenating, death-conquering, redemptive Good Friday, y'all!

Correspondence

Dear Self,

Stop making decisions that don't support what you want! The top five priorities in your life are:
1. Enrich your marriage by being present in every moment.
2. Write when you want to write. Stop allowing small obstacles to stand in the way of spending your time the way you want. If you want to write, sit down and write! Don't make a list of things you need to do first.
3. Study Korean. There are people who have been here far less time than you and are way ahead of you. Spend time not only reading and writing, but SPEAKING. Stop canceling or postponing classes with GeumOk. Those decisions do not support your desire to be fluent!
4. Be social, be kind, be involved. Don't just watch your life from the outside and wish it were different. MAKE IT SO. Everyday you have the opportunity to be helpful, kind, and compassionate to a room full of amazing coworkers. Do it.
5. Be active. Be intense and focused about physical activity in the morning before school. Be serious about making healthy eating choices. So far this week, veggies have prevailed. And you feel so much better! And your skin is even getting better! Keep it up so you can be proud of yourself and actually fit into your clothes. It will be one less thing to worry about when you make this a habit and it doesn't have to be so intentional. But for now, stay focused. Be intentional. Make decisions that help you, not hurt you. (P.S. Cookies hurt you. Just in case you were having your doubts.)

There you go, self. Clear. Simple. Now, when it comes time for the tiniest, most quotidian detail of your life, make the decision that moves you in the direction of these goals. Because this is where you want to go. Stop whining, bitching, complaining, being loud, stupid, and lazy. Live your life fully, with joy and INTENT.

All the best,
Danielle

Dear Weather,

Although it was a great April Fool's trick to give us two Februaries and no spring this year, I'm kind of over it. If it snows one more day, I'm going to have to take some kind of emotional health holiday and go somewhere warm. Where I don't need to wear socks and coats and more than two layers. Seriously. Stop with the rain and the cold and the SNOW FOR GOODNESS SAKE. Help a sister out and pour some sunshine on me. It makes me feel thinner, you know? Do it for me.
Also, tell Winter we're through. I broke up with him in January. Hoped he'd have moved all his crap out my place by March, but it's April and he's still calling me. Stop it.

Please bring Spring,
Weather Affective Disordered Wife

Dear Saralyn,

I cannot thank you enough for all the support you've given me over the past few months. Super duper congratulations on getting into stupid graduate school. Because now there's a sobering countdown going on. You'll only sit in the desk beside me for a few more months. And then what if some weirdo comes in and takes your place! And I have to sit next to the weirdo. And the weirdo doesn't bake chocolate banana bread (I just realized all my favorite Canadians have baked banana bread and it's always delicious. Why is that? Is Banana Bread Baking a requisite for graduation in Canada?)  and doesn't understand my need to not have to share that banana bread with the rest of the teachers and also doesn't forward me all the templates he or she makes for tests. And what if the hypothetical weirdo doesn't let me copy every classroom strategy, teaching technique, and filing method shamelessly? And what if the weirdo doesn't like riding in the trunk of my car and makes waves every time all of us try to pile in there? And what if they don't keep stashed of Ice Breakers Sours in their middle desk drawer? And what if they get mad at me for losing my glue and my stapler and my calculator all in the same day and don't let me use theirs?  Oh my God. Somebody call Philip, because I just out-worried him! But seriously. If I have to sit next to some deranged mentally unstable person, I'm blaming you.

No really, congratulations! Probably.

Love,
The Weirdo in the Desk Next To Yours

Dear Readers,

Forgive me for the blogging break. Do you still love me? Maybe I should start being all "prepared" and "organized" and "thoughtful" and let you know when I'm going to fall off the face of the Internet. Oh well. I'm back. Maybe. Sort of. Oh my back fat. I love you guys.

Sincerely,
Wonju Wife

The Blog Goes to the Dogs

I am not dead. I am also still fat. In case anyone was wondering.
*Warning: this post is long with lots of photos. (Because my editing skills are on vacation. In a sunny place where it doesn't snow EVER.)

Good, now that we have all official business out of the way, I'd like to take this time to post an inane amount of pictures from my past two canine-inspired weekends. Kenny and I have the good fortune of having an awesome Mart Man. I think I've mentioned my Mart Man before. This is not former Mart Man, who was more like a boy and said nice things about my hair and gave me free things to drink from the Family Mart next to my old school in Gangnam. Nope, this is the new and improved Mart Man- married with a daughter who owns the Hyundai Mart next to our apartment building. He is AWESOME. He is kind, funny, and most importantly thinks I'm so much more lovely and wonderful than I actually am. And we all know how I feel about people who consistently overestimate my worth. Love. Mart Man even came to Kenny's art show opening with his daughter, who is a total strawberry.

So, when he told us that he wanted to take us to see some puppies (note: all dogs are puppies in my book. It makes them feel younger, okay?), I jumped out of my chair and did a "going to see the puppies" dance. Or, I just said, "Cool." I can't remember which, but both feel probable, so pick whichever one endears me to you more. Well, we ended up at a kennel for Siberian Huskies. I was a little nervous, because I tend to have issues with dogs in cages / small spaces / any kind of fenced in tiny area. But Mr. Cho is a true dog lover who cares for his dogs and even quit his job to be a full time breeder and handler so he could spend more time with his pups. All the dogs have huge pens with a separate little sleeping area and no more than two dogs are ever penned together. And the momma and puppies have their own little building to protect them from the elements a little more. Anyway, understand that these dogs are loved and cared for better than most children.

Digression: (Y'all, last night we watched this TV program on EBS about these "healing dogs," who help people recover from sickness, help mentally challenged patients improve their social skills, and assist the disabled. Well, one dog had been a healer for his entire life and they were retiring him. So they found him a good family to take him. One with kids to play with and plenty of space. And when his handlers left him there, I cried. I sobbed. I gave myself a headache. Because when his handlers left, he kept onlooking out the door. I don't know. This is how sensitive I am about animals. I can't watch Avatar because they kill imaginary nonexistent animals. Okay, maybe I could watch it, but I don't feel like crying right now so just back off.) End digression.

So, we hung out at the kennels and played with Bolt, who is still getting his show dog training. I had a great time with the dogs puppies. They get a lot of exercise, are well-cared for, and beautiful with sweet temperaments. I was thrilled.

These are 24 day old pups. Don't you want to squeeze the little puff balls?

45 day old pups. I squealed and cursed our wonderful, but small yardless apartment that keeps me from loving one of these pups full time!

Stop judging my face. This is how I communicate with the souls of the puppies, okay?

Mart Man's daughter gets a Husky Hug!

More Husky love.

 Mr. Cho, the kennel owner is also the owner and handler of Royal Prince, the husky who has won a ridiculous amount of Best of Breed awards and Best of the Best awards in Korean competitions and International competitions. And it just so happens that he was traveling to a dog show (KKF and IFC) in Icheon and needed an interpreter for some guests from Singapore. Well, guess who knows Korean and English? And has a wife who loves puppies? Yup. The HubbO! So, Mr. Cho asked us to accompany him to the dog show and do you know what? I got up at stinking 5:50 in the morning and we were on the road by 6:45 am. Can you even believe that? Me neither. So, we went to the show where Prince won Best of Breed again. Mr. Cho said that he doesn't take him to many shows anymore because all the other Husky owners get kind of miffed at him because Prince shuts down the competition every time. It's amazing and it was really fun to watch him win. Okay, now, onto more photos from the show!

Completely focused and relaxed. Eye on the prize, baby!

Locking down another prize.

Fell in love with these cuties. Perhaps it's our ChubbO kindred spirits?

Who you callin' ChubbO?

Horse Great Dane in the ring.

Preserving dignity for dogs getting groped around the world.

Hello gorgeous.

A brindle boxer shot for the Sisda. Reminds me of Samson!

Wait. Is this a good hair day or a bad hair day?

And I saved my favorite shot of the day for last. I had to comb through so many photos. I'm actually pretty proud of myself for paring it down, although my first goal was to post only 5 pictures. I'm only 13 over! (Maybe. That's calculated with Danielle Math, so no guarantees!) This bulldog and boxer interaction was probably the funniest thing I saw all day.

I now declare you this tall.

And, now, hopefully we'll be back to our more regular, less furry programming.

I'm pretty sure that all of you were holding your breath for a new series. And so that you can all stop turning blue and purple, I give you Miso Mondays! On Mondays (when I feel like it, stop with the pressure and the obligation already!), I'll throw up a picture of Miso in all her glorious attitude. So, here we go:

Because this is a Monday face. This is how Monday feels, y'all.

(Also, Miso has stared intently at the screen during this entire posting process. I guess she's just making sure I don't misrepresent  her. Or put up a photo of her licking her butt.)

Hope your Monday was better than mine! And Miso's from the look of it.

2S2 Wonju Rides Again

Hey y'all. Sorry it's taken me so long to get this up here, but a new Dunkin' Donuts opened in town and so I've been a little busy, you know what I mean? Anyway, 2S2 is back! Last month we took off for the holiday because as an ajumma, I have certain familial obligations during holidays. Woot. Anyway, we're off again.

NOTICE: This month's meeting is on SUNDAY. Sorry about that. I know, this is practically grounds for a What the Crap Wednesday post. But on SUNDAY, I'll explain to you guys why it had to be on SUNDAY, and not on Saturday. Okay? Thank you.

Okay, aaaaand on to the good stuff:

So, to recap: Meet at Holly's and have a coffee and a chat. Head to the bus stop around 3 to go to the lanes we have booked at the bowling alley. Then, when we get hungry, we take a vote (but mine counts double because I'm now counting my back fat as an entire person) and go stuff our faces. Sounds good, yeah? So, if you're in Wonju or surrounding areas or basically in this country and have access to a bus, come on down! Can't wait to see you there! On SUNDAY!

[ a big chubby Thank You ]

So, remember how this used to be ChubbO Chubbington? Before I moved on to Wonju Wife? Well, I haven't exactly stopped being a ChubbO, as we are all well aware. And because ChubbO's make amazing friends despite their donut-dependencies, I got one of the best presents EVER in the mail the other day. It was from my friend Bennett, who is a crazy, smart, and all-around strawberry to hang out with. (Yeah, remember how we're calling people strawberries instead of peaches here at Wonju Wife? Just a reminder: I don't like peaches. I loooooove me some strawberries.) I met him through my oh-my-god-have-we-been-friends-for-half-our-lives-already friend Melanie. Because they are crazy people who run marathons. Unlike me. I am one of those people who stands on the side of the road with a sweet tea in one hand and a funnel cake in the other while yelling for the crazy marathon runners. Right, sorry. To the point!

So appropriate, no?

Bennett found this book at a flea market, and of course, thought of me! I'm honored, actually. And the note inside was just as thoughtful: "Thought of you when I saw this book. Not that I think you are a ChubbO, but because of your blog. And because you are not good at sharing. maybe this book could teach you something." OH MY BACK FAT. He is so right. We all know I'm not good at sharing. Especially when it comes to food. This beautiful book tells the story of one hippo named Chubbo who doesn't like to share his pool with any other animals. I was amazed by the watercolors. Usually, I'm not a fan of watercolor, but perhaps Chubbo has changed my mind!

Chubbo getting comfy in his lovely watering hole.

Chubbo actively not sharing.

The illustrations are gorgeous and the story is touching. Besty Lewin, author and illustrator, writes in her author's note, "This is a fictional story inspired by my experience in Botswana's Okavango Delta with a real hippo who refused to share his part of the river with anyone else."

Thanks, Bennett! I love it. It's perfect. And I'm not sharing it. So there.

[ It's Vanilla Shake, Baby ]

The HubbO and our new Kia Soul in Vanilla Shake. Isn't that a lovely name for a color?

It is entirely Kenny's fault that my hair is so stupid here. All he had to do was tell me it looked like that!

And this is just from the backseat area. Overpackaging much?

It took us almost two days to "unwrap" the present of our new car. The seats were all completely covered in plastic, along with the visors, the seat belt buckles, the gear shift, the small shifters on either side of the steering wheel, the door handles, parts of the doors, and parts of the floor. Also, the outside was covered with some sticky stuff, too. The shiny parts, anyway. Have no fear, dear Earth lovers! We recycled it all.

I probably don't need to tell you this, but I am thrilled with our new car. It is so nice not to have to wait on the bus when I want to go to work. It is also easier to stay a little later at work because I know I don't have to catch a bus. Of course, we're not swearing off the bus forever. It's practical on weekends and when we're not on a schedule. But the car is awesome. Oh so awesome.

[ what month is it? ]

It's March already!
And because it's the first of the month, I think it's only appropriate to smother you with adorable kitter pictures.

Isn't she just lovely?

Bo is such a good cat now. He's become a little cuddler, too. He's much healthier. And happy. Can't you tell?

She stayed in this basket for a good 20 minutes. She was determined to fit in there, too. She's a ChubbO, like her mama!

So, there's that.

Also, I just thought I would let you all know that we haven't had to purchase toilet paper since we moved to Wonju at the end of August. And I'm pretty sure we won't have to for the rest of 2010. Because in Korea, it is tradition to bring a big fat pack of 24 rolls of toilet paper, boxes of Kleenex, or laundry detergent to housewarming parties. The toilet paper is significant because it's something you unroll. The Korean word for unroll, poolda ( 풀다 ) not only means to pull, but also it means to solve. It's a sign that everything will be solved and settled in your house. (I mean, when I sit in the bathroom for a while and then I unroll the toilet paper, I definitely have an overwhleming sense of resolution.) And in the case of laundry detergent, because you only use a little to clean a lot, it's a symbol for prosperity. I guess. That's what Kenny says anyway.

We haven't had any housewarming parties. But every time someone visits our house for the first time, they bring these gifts. Mostly, we get toilet paper. I'm loving it.

[ Make sure you click over to Wonju Wife to see the new March design! ]