NY days

The Lincoln Building, where I work, is very cool. So is Grand Central. Both of them exude the old, grandiose, prosperous, ambitious, American way. The Lincoln Building has six elevators for every nine floors (forgot to check how many floors there are in total). But that means I never have to wait for more than literally 10 seconds for the elevator. No joke. There's also the old mail-drop tube on every floor in glass panes embedded in the wall with antique looking lettering on the metal plate. The Building has the design of a huge maze (I have to take 3 turns from the elevator to get to my office), but it has clear signs for everything. What impressed me was that there's a subway station right outside the main entrance, which is a godsend when the weather gets below zero and blustery (even though Grand Central is really just across the street). For more pictures, click here.

Grand Central, I really like its Beaux-Arts architecture and the ivory interior because it gives both a sense of warmth and majesty. It has interesting and beautiful shops and a market that offers a great selection of foods that I can't really afford. It's the largest train station in the world. I've been to train stations in DC, Philly, LA, Taipei, Paris, Lyon, London..etc, but I've never seen this many tracks with decorative entrances. They also make you feel your trip would be great even before you board. The mural on the ceiling of the main concourse is famous. I took a while ogling at it, of course. One is used to see this in palaces and great cathedrals, sometimes museums. But it definitely gives a refreshing look to a train station.

There's also the clocks- which is estimated that each one is worth $10-20 million. Some call it the "perennial meeting place."These clocks stand testament to the life and coming and going of American across decades, through various social and economic times. They also have been the harbingers in people's lives when commuters are ready to board that train for that trip or meeting that someone at the station. That trip, that person, might have altered the course of someone's life forever, or even others'. The timelessness in keeping and telling time, despite temporal and physical changes, is quite awe inspiring, no?

Random notes

Wow, I actually can say that I'm still getting used to be in an English speaking environment again. I miss French. I like the mixed familiarity with the language (catching a word here and there or understanding some simple phrases) and the total incomprehension that occurs most of the time. Same with Japanese, at which I'm becoming only worse and worse...It's hard to keep up!

English now at least still fascinates me in its written form. The process of using it to express my true voice and my logic with felicity and force is still task looking quite insurmountable... and unfortunately the same can be said with my Chinese. *Wail*




There's so much to observe.
I find myself ogling at people quite often, sometimes going beyond the point of politeness. I stare at buildings quite a lot too, tilting my head backward with my mouth slightly mouth, and that's after my pace slowly comes into a complete halt on a street where everyone is charging forward. I'm the person that you would want to shove and kick, probably. But you can't. Too bad.


So now I'm sitting in an espresso bar/cafe where you have people clean up and take your trash/tray for you. I look at the servers and a sense of guilt from pretentiousness and ignorance creeps up. Who am I to sit here sipping on a cup of coffee that might not be fair-trade because it's something I cannot afford? Am I promoting social mobility or reinforcing social stratification? Am I ever going to bridge the gaps to really attain empathy and give concrete help to those not as fortunate as me, or instead enjoy a position of comfort and status that's clearly my aspiration now?





For now. I need money. A sad but necessary need.

Logophilia

This is something I want to share with my logophilia friend, Sarah B, who I hope visits this humble virtual abode once in a while.

Have you ever come across words that are just so brilliant, that you force yourself to commit them to memory and get anxious when you seem unable to find the occasion to use them?

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I would like to be foursquare, but if I can really be crazy once I'd like to take on a procrustean persona. Like House M.D.

Foursquare: marked by firm, unwavering conviction or expression; forthright
procrustean: marked by arbitrary often ruthless disregard of individual differences or special circumstances


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My unfulfilled quest and answered questions is the nocebo that have been etiolating my psyche.

Nocebo: a harmless substance that when taken by a patient is associated with harmful effects due to negative expectations or the psychological condition of the patient (Nocebo is the opposite of placebo. Isn't that neat!)
etiolate: to make pale b : to deprive of natural vigor : make feeble


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I am not impressed with my own litotes when I tell people that I do not have the problem of being plagued with umpteen caprices.

litotes: understatement in which an affirmative is expressed by the negative of the contrary
umpteen: very many : indefinitely numerous


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That life is too predictable to savor and too unpredictable to jettison is a subreption that might have induced my velleity for real passion.

subreption: a deliberate misrepresentation; also : an inference drawn from it
velleity: the lowest degree of volition


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Nimiety of carnal pleasure is overrated; I rather stay semelparous with almost no risk of contracting venereal ailments.

nimiety: excess
semelparous: reproducing or breeding only once in a lifetime







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So things have been good here. There were some inconveniences. Things are expensive in a big city (I miss cheap and fresh fruits and vegetables!) and I hope I can make more money. But I'm never content with anything, at least not since college, so we are safe to consider the above whining.

Teaching has been busy, and because it is a new experience, it has occupied my mind for a good deal of time here. The excuse living abroad affords me is that I need to concentrate much energy on orienting myself in the new environment; therefore, I don't have to think about what trouble me.

I'm still in that phase, but I'm sensing the end of this honeymoon slowly transgresses the fragile hedge woven by necessary and trifling matters of daily life that, until now, has been securing me a little peace of mind.

I suppose part of it is because I'm beginning to see the same old patterns in my life, where going somewhere afresh should erase and remap. I am sitting as a passive observer because I feel powerless to change. Perhaps I have the power, but I just don't know where that is and how to evoke it.

I've been thinking about job hunting again. Oh the monster of reality that tramples the lea of my imagination.

Maybe I should submerse myself in the city life here, spend the money, turn off my brain, and just...be.

고기구이 Koreab BBQ- 2 times
노래방 Karaoke- 2 times
Drinks consumed- soju, mojito, Cass, still looking for a good bottle of wine

Starting in Seoul

So I arrived at Seoul two days ago. What does it feel to be in a familiar and strange place?

The language is new to me, although it resembles Chinese in some cases by pronunciation, which I had to listen carefully. 

The characters are completely foreign. But the chain franchise, especially American, is everywhere touting its English signs and familiar logos and colors.

People look no different from how I look- I was already told that I look very Korean, unintentionally.

I have not yet discovered the social etiquette and rules, and I hope I won't have to learn through social faux pas. Watch me jinx myself.

We have teacher assistants, 18-year-olds who are going to colleges in the U.S. this fall. They are so adorable. They also make me feel older, and wiser.....(?).

Wait until I start teaching tomorrow with high schoolers.

FIGHT CLUB

"You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world."

I'm obsessed with this.

I love Edward Norton's character. Besides the look and the intelligence, the constant struggle with the life which society had held his hand to chisel out for himself, the cynicism, the despair, and the conscience and righteousness, make him my twin, in a remote but awfully familiar way.

His narration replays again and again in my head. I love the pitch of his voice, his monotonous, detached tone, his flat, drawn-out words that pointedly crisp and acetic underneath. 

"This is your life and it's ending one minute at a time"

"Fuck off with your sofa units and strine green stripe patterns, I say never be complete, I say stop being perfect, I say let... lets evolve, let the chips fall where they may."

Amen.

"Listen up, maggots. You are not special. You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake. You're the same decaying organic matter as everything else. "

Being special is the worst lie that can be instilled in a person. Perhaps that is why human beings feel they are the superior beings on this planet, that they overlook or choose to ignore the fact of demise is decaying organic matter, returning to earth?

I wonder who my Tyler Durden would be like. My alter-ego must be a redhead. No, I should stop lying to myself. She would be someone with sleek, metallic, dense black hair, short. Pale skin. Slim and sharp eyes with long lashes that cover the true messages when needed. Gorgeous smile with perfect, glistening white teeth. She would not care for material things; she would be a minimalist. She would always be the first one to make that snide comment everyone is putting together in his/her head or muttering under his/her breath. What would she sell? Porn magazines, high and low class! What would she do as a job? Literary agent. I don't think we'd set up something like Fight Club, though. I have to think about that one hard.

"On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero." 

So stop fussing about salvation.

"When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep... and you're never really awake."

Purgatory.

Fashionatas...

Ok. I think I should start putting images in my blog. I know we are all literary and able to read forward, backward, upside down, while playing Grand Theft Auto, watching the compilation of best movie sex scenes, and eating Indian food with our hands, all at the same time. 

But we all have lazy eyes. Visuals are easy for us to absorb. I mean, there's a reason why we have "eye candy" but not "word burrito," right? For this post, I think it calls for images.

I enjoyed reading Times's 100 Most Influential People in the World, and came across individuals that I want to follow up on. Carine Roitfeld is one. Disclaimer: I didn't know Carine but I DID know Anna Wintour. I am not THAT out of the couture loop. 

Carine Roitfeld is the editor-in-chief of the French Vogue. And she's so French. I've always had a little soft spot for France since last year abroad; memories there are just beautiful, warm, mesmerizing. (the only imperfections were that I didn't know French and I didn't have a beau with me).

I want to look like that when I'm in my 50s. She sounds like someone who is very interesting and fun person to be around and at the same time stays sharp and focused on her craft. She has many fans that exalts her impeccable taste, energizing work, sophisticated outlook, and open and fresh attitude. And she embodies everything is that great of being French, and more. She's half Russian from a Russian film director father. Perhaps that adds colors to her character and toughen her up.

p.s. Her son is my age and just graduated from USC film school. His name is Vladmir. It's awesome.

Reading up on her, one link led to the other, I came to Karen Elson. It's worth mentioning Elson here because my greatest fantasy is to be a redhead. I think they are so hot and bold. They can be coy, or sneaky, or passionate. My only redhead friend at LA told me that some study predicts that by 2050 there will be no more redhead in the world; they would all have married interracially, and since the redhead genes are recessive, there will be no more of this precious breed. My friend and her fiancee, by the way, is the coolest couple ever, and I see why this prediction just might come true, to my great dismay.

Karen Elson is my new discovery and my new jewel. I love Agyness Deyn too. They are both British, what are the odds? But Kate Moss I am not a fan. Let me put my latest favorite of Agyness. Gosh. these two women epitomize my two ultimate dreams- being redhead or androgynous. Agyness is a Manchester girl with a past being punk and skin head and working at a motorcycle shop. She is completely different on camera and catwalk and off camera conversing and socializing with others. She is so down to earth, frank, with slight timidity but great energy and curiosity, I would love LOVE to work with her.

Speaking of which, I love Vivienne Westwood as well. Who is also a redhead. I don't have an affinity towards British culture, but acts of subversion and rebelling under that onerous coat of historical hierarchy and decorum, vainglorious formality and attitude, are superbly exciting.

Let me slip a tutorial on redheads here.

Karen here is featured in another brand that I adore and dream of buying (one day), Yves Saint Laurent. Her auburn hair echoing her blazing red lips; her peering eyes set on a pale, chiseled face. So volatile and seductive.

I cannot stop..

..quoting.

I have a book of quotes that I purchased when I was in middle school. It was not for class- it was for pleasure. The existence of those ambrosial lines for the taste of the mind is just the best gift of humanity in this world. At least, unlike scientific advancement, they do not cause environmental problems and climate change.

Some writers are just so quotable. They really waste no letter, every word is finely picked and carefully chiseled to embrace one another, as perfect as the enzyme-substrate complex that drives our metabolic reactions. Sorry, did I just kill the imagery here?

Since I can never articulate my thoughts, let alone present them in felicitous and brilliant form, I cite a lot. Some things I cite just so it reinforces the idea in my low-capacity memory. Some writers I cite because I cannot better rephrase their words, and in this case, some have great ideas and their writing is clear, but there is something lacking. Well, I have been criticized by a professor saying that my writing is clunky, so I am not pointing fingers here.

But in some cases, I find myself losing control in citing someone's work because the thoughts are intricately and naturally linked, and they work so well together to take you on a ride.

To put an end to citing it would be to tip someone over who's on a great surf or to interrupt someone who is singing a beautifully melting song.

Patricia Hill Collins is a sociologist whose work we should all read. I know there are lots of people on that list, I know! Read her work on Black feminist thoughts. Her writing exudes a warmth, nurturing and welcoming air while she critiques, rebuts, and analyzes. She writes in a mild tone without forfeiting the soundness of her objectivity. It is almost like a narrative, with complicated and serious lessons, no less. Maybe that is why it feels endearing and engaging.

Oddly, I can almost hear her cooing from the pages, "we can express ourselves, champion what we know, we can challenge, we can write like this." If this is not inspiring, I don't know what is.

I should really be working on my master's exam papers now. What am I doing? Sigh.