America the Shameful

You know, yesterday was one of the only days in my entire life that I was proud to be an American. I have never been a patriotic person, and having been brought up in a predominantly Mexican culture I have always felt a certain distance from the "American way."It's not until now that I am, again, ashamed to be American. How can so many people be THAT ignorant? They spout out words and phrases that they regurgitate as to not have to break a sweat in thinking about the human quality of what they speak. They do not stop for one second to understand that what they are saying, and the movements and decisions they are making for others is detrimental to a strangers quality of life.There are people celebrating today because it took over two hundred years for a black man to even be taken seriously as a possible candidate for the US presidency. There are also people crying, hurting, wondering if the marriage vows they uttered only so few months ago will disapparate as if it were only a dream (the best dream I've ever heard of).I'm so angry I don't know what to do with it. Part of me wants to cultivate this anger, and the anger of others--to come together as one strong front and turn on those who've turned their backs on us. Another part of me wants to understand that things take time, and that the voting patterns show a true hope for the youth of America. I am balancing on a very thin line, and I'm sure I wouldn't be far off from saying that millions of "Americans" feel the same way today.It's almost as if Americans thought, "well, this year we'll throw the Black's a bone...and hey, maybe in the future it'll be time for the gays." I don't want to be in a succession line for charity.I want my rights, damn it!If you voted 'yes' on Prop 8 (or any other anti-gay legislation) and you're reading this, I think you owe me and every other gay person you know, or even don't know an explanation.Why? Why? Please, tell me why you've chosen to deny me and your fellow "Americans" of a common right? Why must we plan YOUR weddings and not attend our own?I miss my family. I am currently living abroad, and I'd hoped that California would prevail in equality and that I'd be able to return to marry the person I wish to love forever.But now I sit here wondering: when I marry my fiance, does that mean I won't be able to reside near my family in California? Is the United States of America going to pay my airfare so that I can see my nieces grow up, feel the embrace of my parents, and be with my grandfather before he passes?I am ashamed to be American today. This "one thing at a time" mentality just isn't good enough for me...Obama or not.Dear God, help me understand.

Happiness and Anger Stew

I cannot express my feeling of elation at the victory of Barack Obama in becoming our new US president. Nervous energy surges through my body, and I am virtually speechless. To win in such a monumental way makes the triumph that much more thunderous--and may all that doubt hear that roar.However, I cannot help but suffer as the pain of anger and sadness fester in my belly, wanting to scream, break windows, slap strangers--something to release the tumor that has been growing within me this past hour.How is it possible that a state as open-minded as California (a state where plastic surgery is common place, and celebutantes like Kim Kardashian and those dense girls from 'The Hills' are adored like deities; a state where the divorce rate is over 50%; a state where Marijuana is legalized for medicinal purposes) could ignore the obvious rape of freedom and justice for all by relegating we, the homosexuals of California, to a lesser role? When did we become a supporting role in the film called "Life," starring the ever-so-powerful heterosexual masses? It just isn't fair.What I feel like is an animal. I feel as if I have just been told that I am not allowed in the house, but to stay in the yard--even if it's raining.What angers me most is the statistics.According to CNN. COM, most age groups were either tied, or did not support Proposition 8. The only group that overwhelmingly supported the measure were those citizens 65 years and older. These are people that have lived there lives and are reaching the end. These are people who have experienced the joys of a wedding day, the trials and triumphs of a legal marriage, the raising of children, and so on. How dare they dictate to us, a new and different and far more understanding generation, how we should live long after they have become dust! It's obvious to me now that the experience of time truly is meaningless. That compassion does not mature or change if your heart and mind already dwell in a state of hatred and biggotry.It's a travesty that this has happened. A cruel joke. What's next? Do we have to wear patches on our sleeves? Stripped pajamas? Well, I'll tell you this much. If we do...it's going to be Prada, and you can all kiss my ass-cot!!!

Glamour and the Stench of the Seoul Sewage System Part 1

It's been ages (over a month) since I last posted. There have been countless experiences that I've wanted to cover here, but alas I'm subject to my own procrastination and thus be my downfall as a writer. In any case, this past week's experiences are definitely something to write home about. Anyone who knows me or my current situation would know that I'm currently residing in the Republic of Korea. As such, my career bares little resemblance to that which I'd dedicated myself to for the past several years: fashion. In my day to day life, it's impossible for me to renounce my love of the art of fashion and all that accompanies self-beautification (minus self-mutilation, like cosmetic surgery). Though I've left the building, and "hung up my hat" so to speak--solely because I am currently teaching a sea of Hangul-crunching urchins does not equal the demise of my life in fashion.

This brings me to my present state of being. As if hearkened by the beacons of my heyday, fashion has found me once again...and as usual, I've gladly acquiesced. Back in August, upon my return to Korea, I met a young Canadian woman named Denise while out with friends. I mentioned her in my previous post. We really took to one another, and it was mentioned that my past work had been in fashion and on-set beauty departments. Denise is a photographer and works with another ex-pat, an American Blasian (Korea and African American) named Michael. Michael has created a website representing Korean street fashion for foreigners entitled Feet Man Seoul (www.feetmanseoul.com). The site covers mainstream fashion, local social events, street fashion--among other topics, such as music and Korean pop culture. One night, while painting the town blood red, Denise drunkenly mentioned to me that she was working on a fashion magazine to be distributed circa Seoul fashion week. Of course she mentioned this knowing that I'd invite myself onto the project...which I did. I immediately asked, pleaded, begged to have a hand in on the baby and she said she'd she what her project partner thought. Only a few days passed and I was invited to meet Michael, offering my services as stylist on the project.

We met at Doota!, the enormous shopping complex at the Dongdaemun ("East Gate") area of Seoul. It was evening, and incredibly windy. I was running late, as usual, and I found them outside trying to fend off the tempestuous annoyance. For some reason we didn't immediately go inside and escape the frigid temperature. I think that was probably because once you enter one of these large shopping complexes talking becomes troublesome and conducting a deep conversation, or a meet and greet as this was, would prove nearly impossible. So we remained outside and chatted about the project. I asked questions, and though many responses were vague at best, I did see true passion and potential in their eyes and ideas. These two elements are strong legs to stand on.

In true form, I began to shoot off my mouth and offer my ideas on a silver platter. Though some of my supposed "gems" were promptly denied any place on this project, I understood my place quickly and relegated myself to it. Now that we'd satisfied ourselves with banter, we entered the building and began to scour the many levels for the number one item on our list: lingerie. Yes, this was to be a lingerie shoot. The concept of the magazine is basically this: a "look-book" of sorts, with glimpses of Seoul fashion week's shows, street fashion, a few articles, and a photo-story--which was our main focus on this meeting. This photo story followed an evening in the life of a scorned young woman, who leaves the throws of a hunky, young gentleman to prowl the streets clad only in what she's left in...her underwear. Edgy. Sexy. A new concept in Korean culture: a woman claiming her sexual prowess as power. I liked the idea and quickly began to create a story in my head, with fully flushed-out characters with legs to kill.

With this in mind, we stopped at a few lingerie kiosks and found nothing to our taste. In a place this big with so many trends and an incredible penchant for style turn-over, it becomes an overbearing game of hit or miss. Michael said he knew of a more risque vendor on the basement level, so we ventured down into the deep to look for what we hoped wouldn't be death by ruffles, or bludgeoned by padding (not to mention choking on glitter). We found the dark little corner he spoke of after scouring through the labyrinthine alleys of the make-shift shops. There we found undi's a plenty, many not to our liking, in fact...I'm shocked they'd be to any one's liking--except maybe a Russian hooker (but then again, we get a lot of those here). Our focus color was purple, the "it" color of the season, or brown--to play off the models golden tan. We found a few options we felt forced to like, and then finally came upon a few that we actually did envision on the 6 foot plus body of our model: Henna. Thankfully, Michael is nearly fluent in Korean so he managed to work-it with the saleswoman and finally we had our first piece; a surprisingly elegant, yet sexy, brown-sheen bra and french-cut panty set. This was the beginning of our journey into public nudity.

When we'd finished, we met up with one of Michael's longtime friends whom he'd not seen in nearly a decade. It was a quick and passionless reunion, but still it thwarted us off to dinner where we shared Uzbek food and beer. The food was good enough. Loads of meat. Similar to middle eastern food as well as Russian, but a bit bland for my palette. Nonetheless, the conversation was dynamic and I was sure this was a marriage of minds made in heaven. With enough time, patience, and arguing we'd make quite the team.

And so it begins...

Tomorrow isn't my official first day of work, but I will be going in for a 'meet and greet,' so to speak. I'll be meeting my new boss, and coworkers, and also attempt to make some lesson plans. I just visited the school after walking my man to the bus stop since I have to be there at 9am tomorrow morning and found it essential to, well, know where I was going. The campus looks quite nice, actually, and they have a killer playground. Sue me but I love slides, swings, and jungle gyms. This passed week has been pretty great. Reuniting with my Dong Wook has been magical, to say the least, and the world which I have re-entered I find almost more inviting than the one I left. This weekend I made my first journey back into Seoul to meet friends and party the night away after months of absence. We met up in Sinchon to visit a bar some foreigners had opened. The drink specials will get us to go anywhere, who are we kidding. It had been quite a while since I'd tied one on, and man was my body not used to it. We drank like thirsty horses, but by the end of the night were panting like hot dogs. We started at a bar called the King's Cross (I think) where I met some new friends: a Canadian girl named Denise, and a Korean-American girl named Carrie. I helped the girls to learn to flirt, since it seems as though they'd been deficient in this skill all of their lives, despite their attractive appearances. Either way, I do hope my teachings further them in their sexual and romantic ventures. From here we moved onto Hongdae: the place to be if you're young and in Korea. By this point I was already pretty tipsy and we ended up at a club where it was 9,000won ($9) cover, and all you can drink Tequila. I'm not a fan of Tequila, but all you can drink? For a man on a budget, I was definitely sold. This place was a sweat box and I danced with several Korean fellows. I find their interest in hip-hop culture somewhat comical but equally sexy. I also find it fascianting how Korean men always want to dance with me as a way to meet my female companions. It's my pleasure to help them, and my friends, get laid since I am only there for the fun these days. We ate and drank, ate and drank, and danced, and danced, and danced--until it was finally 6am and thus time to go home. Before we went our seperate ways, a few of us stayed behind for some spicy as hell Budejige at tent city, and some last minute Soju. Breakfast of champions. On my first journey back home I found myself drunkenly lost for two hours. It was both embarrassing and annoying. Note to self: if I'm going to get that drunk, stay at a friends. I was on and off trains and buses in a mad pursuit to find the correct route home, to little or no avail. It was like playing Zelda blind-folded. I stopped into McD's and had some more breaky, as an excuse to "sober up," when I really just wanted a greasily delicious sandwich in my tum-tum. Either way, I made it back home in need of some lenghthy respite. I did manage, for some odd reason, to stumble onto the Wall-E OST on my iPod as I arrived home and found myself crying quite emotionally for thirty minutes before finally dozing off. Believe it or not, I was crying specifically because of the movie. In my drunken state, that which I found fascinating and endearing about the film was escalated to the brink of my tears moistening my pillow in a deluge of melodrama. Thomas Newman is one hell of a composer. The last couple of days I've spent mostly with my boyfriend, briefly stopping into Seoul for some bootlegs movies. I was in desperate need to continue my illegal ventures here in Korea. Feeling a bit under the weather yesterday, we returned home and had some more take away Chinese (delicious and cheap), and watched M. Night Shyamalan's 'The Happening,' which I won't even bother to review because it was utter crap. It pains me when a talented writer/director has an inspired idea and then proceeds to use it as toilet tissue. I did manage to get my boyfriend to watch 'Showgirls,' however, which is the perfect example of something that is so bad it is very, very good. And so I go, off to tap dance for yet another school. Will I slip, or will I dance my way into their hearts?

The Night is Dark: A 'The Dark Knight' Movie Review

To call this a superhero or comic book film would totally discredit the masterpiece of a crime drama that it transcends to be. Though dealing with the typical model of 'good guy' against 'bad guy,' Christopher Nolan and the new "Bat-Crew" know how to give us exactly the Batman that we need for this day and age, and not one in tights. The days of camp are over and in are the grimy times of reality. Violence, greed, unspeakable cruelty...these themes resound in the film, but we are forced to ask a question that challenges us in our own current political climate: where do we draw the line between hero and villain? When does collateral damage become a necessity and not a choice or accident? The film does not try to glorify its hero, nor does it chastise its villains. It is up to us to decide, as an audience, as an individual, and as a citizen, what we believe justice is. Though my love for the Tim Burton Batman franchise will never dissipate, I cannot deny that Nolan's take on this dark story is more current and far more relevant. Heath Ledger's performance was nothing short of legendary; balancing insanity, and misanthropy, all the while making us laugh along with him even in the face of his merciless violence (much like Hannibal Lector). His untimely death will no doubt be the talk of next year's Oscar's, as he is sure to be nominated. Christian Bale is a sturdy Bruce Wayne/Batman, and Morgan Freeman, Michael Cain, and Gary Oldman are all on top of their game (not that they ever aren't, in all fairness). The addition of Maggie Gyllenhaal as Rachel Dawes(replacement to Katie Holmes), and Aaron Eckhart as Harvey Dent/Two Face were wise choices. Both are strong actors, holding their own if not making themselves known in a film already bursting with fresh, and fascinating newness. This is a dark film for dark times for a world that barely has a Knight in sight.

"Hey, it's the new Malibu Stacy...and she's better than ever!!!"

My return to Korea wasn't exactly the smoothest of operations. After spending a month with my family in San Diego post-African journey, I had become accustomed to life on hold. Doing little to nothing all day everyday was both wearing on me and growing on me simultaneously. I knew it was a matter of time before I headed back to Korea, but waiting renders actuality useless when time moves like a drunken snail. Pro's: being with the family, seeing my nieces, playing with my dog Sammy, eating all the food I love/hate, visiting with friends, and stocking up on DVD's and going to the cinema. Con's: no job, no money, boyfriend eagerly awaiting me as I eagerly awaited returning to him, an influx in fatty cells collecting in areas I'd rather they not be. In the end, however, I did garner a great teaching position at a public school in Gimpo, closer to Seoul than I'd been before. Public school positions mean two things: less work, more vacation. Sign me up. I departed my old home in Chula Vista along with my parents to the San Diego International Airport at Lindbergh field on the morning of August 18th. Little did I know that United Airlines was going to live up to their standard of crapiness and cause me to lose my connection at SFO with Singapore Airlines. Due to weather conditions beyond anyone's control, San Fran was not allowing flights to enter it's airfield. Unfortunately for me, that meant that I'd probably miss my connecting flight into Seoul. I pleaded with the United crew to change my flight so that I could divert spending a costly night in SF, but they assured me that I would make my connection. Well, that gum-smacking Armo-biotch didn't know her ass from her elbow. I was indeed stranded in San Fran for a night, having to pay for a room out of pocket. I spent the entirety of my stay in my hotel room, eating, watching Will & Grace, and catching up on some much needed recovery sleep. Packing had proven a daunting task the evening prior. In any event, I was on the next flight with Singapore Airlines the following day. Singapore Airlines has to be the best airline EVER!!! They are the kindest, most attentive people I've ever encountered on an airplane. The food was delicious, the LCD screens unbelievably large, and the entertainment choices too vast to fathom. I couldn't do or see everything I wanted in the 11-hour flight. My seat even had a power connection, and usb port. Pretty crazy stuff. I could only imagine flying First Class. They must blow you up there. I arrived in Korea glad to be back, and nervous to face my boyfriend--though I was dying to see him. I wasn't sure what to expect, or what sort of welcome I'd receive after my four-month departure. Phone calls and e-mails are one thing...but eyes cannot lie. After collecting my luggage, and exchanging my money, I exited the baggage claim area and entered the openness of the welcome area. A sea of people stood there; signs bearing various names, some faces disappointed that I was not the love one they'd been expecting for who knows how long. I looked about but didn't see him. I figured he was grabbing a drink or something considering my flight was an hour early. Then I saw a hand flailing about in my direction. A buzzed head with thick-framed glasses approached me. This was not the way I'd left him, but this is to whom I'd returned to...and let me tell you, I was unaware he could look better. We crashed into each other embracing for a moment. It seemed unreal. To touch each other once more after such an extended amount of time seemed alien though welcome and necessary. I could breath again. We walked out and grabbed a bus to the other nearby airport in Gimpo, where we'd be staying for the night. We stayed at the Hotel Airport where we caught up, watched tv, and ate a late dinner. Ah, bibimbap at midnight...how I missed it. We woke late the following morning. I had an appointment at 2pm to meet my co-worker to collect my apartment key in a nearby area of Gimpo. Dong Wook and I had some McD's and then headed to the Gimpo Office of Education. We arrived a bit early but found Ji Young, the woman I was scheduled to meet. She was very kind and giggly. We walked a short distance and made it to my new apartment building. It looked new, and was smaller than what I was used to. We entered and she informed me that most of the tenant were foreign teachers, so that I'd have a lot of fun and help there. That was a nice and comforting thought. We sat for a while and talked about a few things. She seems like a very kind and helpful woman...I just hope she isn't too nosey. Dong Wook is convinced she likes me. Eeeesh. I also met my neighbor, a rather handsome Korean-American guy from Colorado. He had an odd and shy demeanor about him. Ponder... We spent that evening grocery shopping, eating Chinese take-away, and watching Clueless. I walked Dong Wook to the nearby bus stop, which will soon be my main means of transport--and man is it efficient. Big time yay. I spent the rest of the evening getting comfortable in my new apartment. I slept in my sleeping bag because the sheet on my bed was a little dingy. My sheets are still in "storage" until this weekend, so I can't wait to get them. Something tells me the girl who occupied my apartment before me was a fat white girl. There were too many stuffed animals, origami rosettes, and tie-dyed astrological stickers everywhere. Am I right or am I right? Today I woke up early but stayed in bed and napped until I was ready to get up and moving. I watched a little Will & Grace and unpacked all of my luggage. A bit later, Dong Wook arrived and we cleaned the hell out of my apartment. That place is pretty clean now. I just need a design concept, though that will come with time and money. It was raining all day, but we made the decision to go grab a bite and walk around the neighborhood. I live in a pretty cool area. It's considered downtown Gimpo. I live near a supermarket, tons of PC rooms, restaurants (including trusty American fast food, and pizza), a CINEMA!!!, but best of all...a VIPS!!! VIPS is a steak and salad restaurant that has an amazing salad bar. I love salad bars because they are all you can eat, and this once happens to have a nacho bar, and smoked salmon. Yes, I'm a fatty. We had Budejigue for dinner, which is basically meat (ground beef, franks, and spam), and noodles (ramen, glass, and rice noodle) soup. It's hot, spicy, and smackulicious. It came with free ice cream after, and it was a dirt-cheap meal. After that, we went to see The Dark Knight and now we're here, at the PC room--"catching up on my correspondence." But for now, we gotta head home. It's getting late and the hubby has a headache. Until next time.

Ahhh, cinema...

Needless to say, I was busting to go to a movie theater, seeing as how I've been weening lion cubs, and exploiting ancient African cultures over the last eight weeks. But today, I dedicated myself to a double-feature...and I am so glad that I did.The first film was Sex and the City. I'd read many scathing reviews, touting it as too somber, and dark. That the film had lost its fun and resulted in a cacophony, so to speak, of melodramatic emotions. I personally liked the tone of the film. I think it was an honest film about how love can exhilarate, delight, and consume but at the same time ache, scar, and even deprive one of their own personal needs. I found the film funny, sometimes a bit more slapstick than the show, but still funny. The only qualm I had was with Miranda's character. They escalated her far above the bitch scale. At the end of the series, her heart had warmed-up and she was less of a curmudgeon, and with the film we were at square one again. A character should always remain as such, and not become a characature...there is a difference. I did find, however, Miranda and Steve's reunion on the bridge to be the most poignant scene of all.The clothing was phenomenal, as was the look, and artistic design. We'd already learned, with the final season of the show, to accept that Carrie dawns clothing far-above her price range and this trend continues with the film. But it's part of the escapism of the series. We wouldn't want to see her in anything else but the latest. All in all, I was more than pleased with the film and I'll admit that I cried a few times. But hey, I'm a fan. Sue me.My second feature was Pixar's newest Masterpiece, Wall-E. Basically, I cried from the beginning to the end. It was so painfully beautiful that one can't help but become over-emotional. It's slightly a polarizing film, however, because it's animated. I fear that the audience will enter the film expecting a film about a clutzy robot who cleans up trash, but will encounter once in the theater that the film is so much more than that. It has the gentle quality of a Charlie Chaplin film, where there is no real dialogue or sounds besides the music (though Wall-E does make R2D2-like sounds) for the entire first chapter of the film, but there is a very clear tone and message. The earth has been reduced to a barren wasteland, with piles of garbage so high that they challenge the surrounding sky scrapers. The air is so thick with smog, that there is a labored, and colorless gloom that spans the sky. But Wall-E knows no different, and unfazed as he conducts his days as usual, he becomes enchanted with the human world that once existed there and collects "artifacts" that inspire wonder and amusement in him: feelings so innocent and simple, that it's heartbreaking that we, who still live amongst these artifacts, do not see.Wall-E's fascination with the film 'Hello Dolly' is more so an allure to that that is jovial, and exuberant than an interest in musical cinema. We see Wall-E's loneliness echoed here, and how he longs for the existence of someone besides himself and his only friend, a cockroach. It's then that he meets a robot far-superior to his making, and falls in what he understands to be love. Though these characters are (as cliche as it sounds it's true) robots, the audience can't help but recognize the humanity in their courtship. It's tender, fearless, and real.The second chapter of the film takes Wall-E to space where he discovers the remnants of the human race, now reduced to large piles of consumption: so gluttonous that they've lost the ability (or the will) to walk. They are so lazy that they drink their food, and do not notice the things that happen further than that which occurs in front of their noses. Needless to say, the film has a strong message in regards to our world's consumer issues, and how we are the masters of our own inevitable demise. It's sad, and true, and scary to see. This portion of the film relies more on dialogue and a bit of slapstick, but it has a Kubrickian sensibility to it--where robots rule, and we acquiesce to their superiority.The last chapter of the film, however, is nothing more than sheer magic as we experience the strength, the will, and love exhibited both by humans and robots alike, straining to survive.Wall-E is heart-wrenching, an eye-opener, important, and it's sweet innocence lingers long after you've left the theater. I could not fight my immediate emotional response to the film because we are living in a time where there is such a delicate balance between what could be and what will be. As Albert Einstein once said, "It is appallingly obvious that our technology exceeds our humanity." Wall-E poses the question: wouldn't it be better if our humanity exceeded our technology?