Focus

I've always hated the rain and having to walk through it. It's like trucking through piles of dog saliva, just making you feel disgusting and dirty. However, what I do love most after the end of a rainstorm is how sunny and nice the next day is. Makes you feel happy again, as if you've finally gotten over a terrible break up. Johnny Nash is right; you can see clearly after the rain is gone.

I remember in 5th grade when I began having trouble focusing the white board. I thought that's how the words were supposed to look like, uneasy to read, sloppy; and I thought that street lights really did look like blobs of fairy dust just floating above me. To my surprise, after I failed an eye exam, I was told I needed glasses. How amazing were things the moment I slipped those bifocals over my face. It was as if I had a new set of virgin eyes. I had never seen trees look that way before. Everything was so fine and sharp, originally like how it looked when having to stand 5 inches away. It was then that I realized the rain had passed.

Sometimes there's those storms that seem to never end, as if they go on for days. Then you're sitting in your rocking chair on the balcony wondering when the sun will come out again so you can go to the pool or run some laps around the neighborhood. Not the best feeling when you're locked inside, forced to find the least bit of entertainment to keep you from drowning in the sorrows the rain suppresses you with. Everyone has always told me to go out and kiss in the rain, jump in puddles, go all out. It's just not the same when you don't see clearly. I haven't found my bifocals to correct this problem. I'll be dodging the raindrops and puddled potholes until I can find someone who's willing to splash through them with me. I can't see clearly now that the rain has come.

Two of a Kind

Chopsticks, a fork and knife, a married couple, bunk beds. I have started to notice more and more that everything comes in pairs. Hell, even the threes and fours have it good; tricycle, cyclops, human limbs, cheeks. There are so many things that are nothing without their other half, third, or quarter; why is it that nothing really comes to mind when we think of one?

Ones never get any of the attention because they're unimportant, predictable, and have nothing special to stand out amongst this world of twosies. I can think of a million things right now that are perhaps unfavorable to be a one-sie: a dateless prom, a single parent. I mean, since when was a poker hand with just a bunch of single numbers a good hand? The only time those numbers matter is when they have a match either in your hand or in the dealer's hand.

It's unfortunate that this world thrives on others by pairing, matching, and loving because of some hole in our hearts trying to be filled everyday. It isn't fair for the singles to be singled out because they haven't found their pair. Why should we have to go on feeling alone and unimportant? Just because others have found something great, I shouldn't have to feel bad about myself.. but I do because the only time I will matter or stand out is when I've found the remote to my tv, the cheese to my macaroni, the lens cap to my lens... the man to my "I love you's."

Success

Thirty-three across, "to be unsuccessful." When doing a crossword puzzle, the correct word doesn't always come to mind the first time. I usually go through and fill in the words that I know are definitely the correct answers, then go from there. There is obviously more than one word synonymous to being unsuccessful, but filling in the other squares will give you little clues as to what the word could be. Finally you realize that the only word that could fit there is "fail."

Don't we all run into this in life? Where you're doing so many things to come to one conclusion, just to end up in failure? Have you ever studied hours on end for a test only to receive a failing grade back? It will always amaze me how hard we all have to work and how many times we have to fail in order to work to the pinnacle of as little as one amount of success, whatever units that would be measured in. A successful relationship? A three-figure salary? Fame? A bonus?

As successful as I may appear to be so far in life, I have failed so many times. I've failed tests, failed to be that girl a guy was looking for, failed my dad when I've lied. I've gone through so many failures just to pick myself up again and continue on the path hoping that maybe the next event will be my success. I haven't found that success yet. What if it isn't worth it? Once you reach that point, you'll know. I'm waiting for that moment when it rushes through my veins and I think to myself, "It was worth it." So when you feel like everything in your life has failed you or you've failed it, pick yourself up and keep climbing the pyramid of success. It doesn't matter that it's mostly made up of failures, the top is really the only thing that matters because it means you've won the game.

Perspective

My trip to the Philippines overall was boring, I have to admit. I accompanied my dad as he participated in the Asian Poker Tour and was lucky enough to be able to be in the room watching everyone play. During the times when we were able to leave the hotel and explore a little bit, I was disappointed. The Philippines is definitely not known for their clothes or food, that's for sure. The third largest mall in the world was located right next to our hotel, initially making me think this vacation was going to be amazing. I was in for a surprise. Let me just start with the food. I have never smelled something so nauseating in my life. Upon entering the food court, the musty air smelling of fried butter just made you want to vomit. I don't even understand why they had a food court, it's all the same food in every stand: fish heads, rice, fried seafood, fried vegetables, I wouldn't be surprised if they had fried butter hidden in there somewhere because that's the only thing I smelled the whole weekend. I didn't even want to eat the only thing I liked: lumpia. But I doubt that it'd taste the same as the way my nanny used to make it, who was Filipino.

In order for me to fully enjoy vacationing there, I'd have to take on a different perspective. It may be rude to stare at people according to our customs, but in the Philippines, every single person does it. I have been stared down 50 times in one day, by men and women, old and young. At first I was insulted, but then I realized it was a different country with different customs. Did you know Filipinos also eat with their hands? Everything: rice, fish... It's almost disgusting, but probably not as disgusting as certain middle-easterns wiping themselves with their bare hands. Can you also imagine that I was taller than 95% of the people I've seen!? I felt mighty! Filipinos are also probably the nicest people in general. Now, I hope that's not because I was staying in a 5 star hotel where it's kind of required to be nice to high-paying customers, but they really take their jobs seriously. I think it goes as far as their personalities in general. They ALWAYS call you ma'am and sir. They make sure you aren't just happy, but enthusiastic. Humanity isn't doomed after all. America just needs to sharpen up.

With all the traveling I've done and all the different customs I've experienced so far in my lifetime, I've been able to take on different perspectives and adapt. It helped me to become more well-rounded and overall a better person. What saddens me is that there are people I've met in the States that haven't even left the country, much less the state. I cannot even begin to imagine what kind of person I'd be without the knowledge of the world I have today. So to sum up the trip in general, I still say it was boring. It was an experience requiring me to adapt, something I do and have done everyday. I'm used to it by now, but I'd rather not live at all, than to live a life of ignorance.

Slang

My sister and I decided to get some drinks for the movies we rented last night. We went down to the 7-11 downstairs and picked out a couple things. When we went to the counter, we didn't think anything of the Korean girl working there. All of a sudden she asks us, in the most PERFECT english voice, "Do you wanna buy a bag?" I looked at my sister and she looked up from her wallet with a shocked look on her face and answered, "Oh ummm yes." (In Korea, you have to buy plastic bags if you don't bring your own.) She places our bottles in the bag and then says, "Thank you very much, have a nice day." My sister and I were like "!!!!!" Hearing someone speak English that well in Korea, an hour away from base is like seeing a peso in North Carolina. She even had the whole slang thing down: wanna. The only other straight-up Korean I've ran into that can speak with English slang is my stepmom.

How do people pick up on slang in other languages? I know some Korean, French, Italian, but I don't even know where to begin when it comes to slang. Here, for example, we say, "I'm gonna sing 'till the cows come home." First of all, why would cows come home? Where are the cows coming from? First-time English speakers will have a huge conundrum with this phrase. Gonna? How are they supposed to know that 'gonna' actually means "going to." How do you get 'gonna' from that? It always makes me laugh when I hear my stepmom say things like, "Ew what a dinky dress," or, "This piece of crap notebook is falling apart." I think it's kind of funny how fast some foreigners pick up on English slang.

What I hate the most, however, is when they learn a cuss word. They sound like little 5 year olds who hear it for the first time and decide to add the word to their everyday vocabulary. I was walking down a street one time with shopping stores all over the place. Korea has these hustlers that bring customers into the stores that you can't see from the street. Well, one time I was walking by and one of the hustlers told me, "Hey bitch! Good American size. Bitch clothes." I was like wtf?! I was about to slap him but I remembered I was in Korea haha! Then I passed by a store named "Fucking Lovely." Fucking lovely, huh? It's weird how there's so many languages and so much slang, I always wonder how people figure this stuff out. Sometimes we can get lost in translation or found in miscommunication. I don't get it either.

Mozartkugeln

I never thought that I'd learn to make German cookies in Korea. Since my sister doesn't know how to spend her time studying, she wanted to partake in some extra credit work by making cookies reflecting the time period she's studying in her class. Therefore, we searched the web for "German cookie recipes." Instead of choosing something easy and more closely resembling something that Americans bake everyday, such as German chocolate chip cookies, we decided to go with these marzipan chocolates called Mozartkugeln. You start by making an almond paste for the center, then continue by making your own marzipan out of ground up walnuts for the outer center. The last step was probably the messiest, considering we had to hand dip the balls in a bowl of melted chocolate. Knowing us, we didn't just "dip" them, we pretty much submerged our hands in a spa-treatment. They say cocoa is good for your skin and I'm just starting to believe them.

A lot of people have asked me what I do when I'm in Korea..what do I do here that's different than what I do in America? It's a good question that I can't answer. I mean, here I am baking German cookies. I don't even think I actually do anything differently in whatever country I'm in. Eat, shop, party? The only thing that changes is how I do it. In Korea, I eat Korean food, shop cheaply, and party like a celebrity in top clubs. In America? I eat burgers and party at people's houses. The only factor that really defines a place is not by the obvious things to do there, but how you do them.