Entries for December, 2003

There's a reason geese fly in formation. As each goose flaps its wings, the backdraft creates an uplift for the birds that follow. By flying in a V-formation, it is said that the flock gains 71% greater flying range than if each goose flew alone. When you're flying over 5,000 miles, I guess it would be nice to have others with you helping you along.

It isn't that hard to urge someone to try a bit harder, to encourage a friend, to help those who are struggling. As long as we're going in the same direction, why can't we help each other out?

Written by jihwan at 06:14 PM.

1 x 0 = 0

In the mornings on the way to school, my mom usually listens to Korean news radio stations. Now is it just me, or does the news seem sort of biased? There's a column called "World News," and in it, there's a whiny guy who's supposed to be news-ing about "world news." But I noticed that unless a Korean person was involved in it, was the victim of it, or discovered it, the reporter didn't even bother to relay the information.

During 9-11, we would have to turn the stations to KFI or some other American station, because the Korean ones just would not give any information about it. That is, until some Korean firefighter lost his life in the towers. Now, I'm not in any way minimizing the death of those who died saving others' lives. But shouldn't an event like that be broadcasted no matter who is involved?

Another example: the Southern California fires. All the stupid reporters were excitedly creaming their pants because of some kid [a Korean kid, mind you] that got a scholarship to some college, cheesy commercials for a restaurant in Ktown, or other insignificant bits of news that no one cared about because 40-foot flames were burning down their homes.

Oh wait. The home of a Korean person was lost? Let's focus all our attention to the victims and interview them, glorify them for their bravery, console them, and raise money to rebuild the house. Hey, while we're at it, let's just leave this country, because we just don't give a damn about what goes on around here anyway.

Korean Pride, you say? [KP for all you xangans~*] Pride is one thing. Go show your pride at the Red Devils soccer games. But to completely ignore everyone and everything unless one of your precious countrymen has something to do with it? That's just bordering racial discrimination. [Heh, racial discrimination from a racial minority..]

You're living in America now, people. America is your home. America is what's important, because anything that happens here directly or indirectly affects you. And if you blindfold your eyes unless someone shouts "사람 살려!!" then you don't understand the concept of being an American.

Written by jihwan at 01:39 AM.

1 x 0 = 0

I'm sick and tired of school. I know every single teenager says that, and I know when I say it, it has no meaning whatsoever. But I'm not saying this because I don't like my teachers [although some of my teachers can go jump off a cliff], nor because I'm full of angst [although I am full of angst].

I just don't see the point of all this crap we have to go through. You bust your chops going to school, spend your afternoons and nights studying, go through the ordeal of standarized tests [which, by the way, basically summarizes 12 years of education into a 3-hour exam], engage in every single extra-curricular activity out there, and finally display your whole life onto a few sheets of paper to showcase to the college of your hopes. All for what? So your parents can walk around with bragging rights because you got into UCLA?

I could pretty much sit on my ass all of high school and be admitted to a UC school, no sweat. But there has to be a certain level of achievement a Korean kid has to attain before he is able to stand within society without having to be viewed as a failure. I've begun to not care about grades. I've begun to think that it's just not worth staying up all night to study. I've begun to think that I'm stuck in a race set in molasses; going forth is just not worth the effort.

I really don't see the difference between UC Berkely and UC Riverside except an effort gap. I just feel like for most of my life thus far, I've been manipulated by the college admissions people, being told what to do and what not to do if "I want to be accepted into their school."

I want to throw my hands up and say, "SCREW YOU, UCLA. I'm actually going to have a life of my own, and not have to worry about what your admissions officers are gonna think about me. I've decided that I don't want to be a puppet on your stage. So take your admission requirements and shove it."

Someone motivate me. Someone inspire me. I need something worth working for.

Written by jihwan at 11:26 PM.

7 x 0 = 0

I guess no matter how much I complain about school and how I'm gonna quit trying, I can't help it. I stayed up all night doing my English Research paper. The paper raped me - a night in Alcatraz couldn't have done a better job. Ask me anything about Mark Twain; I can tell you.

I was so tired, I came home from school and went to sleep. I didn't wake up till the next morning. 17 straight hours of sleep is exactly what I needed.

I think sometime during the night, I got an incredibly painful cramp in my leg. My mom says she vaguely remembers someone whining and moaning in the middle of the night. I guess I just kept on sleeping, clutching my leg and rolling around the bed with tears cascading down my face. I woke up this morning and discovered my pillow is damp.

My calf still aches. And I blame it all on the Admissions officers.

Written by jihwan at 07:56 AM.

6 x 0 = 0

After staying up pretty late for the last few days wrapped up with schoolwork, I've begun to dearly wish for a solution. There has got to be some sort of yet-undiscovered middle ground for actual studying and actual sleeping - some new, revolutionary discovery that would allow me to split the conscious and unconscious parts of my brain. I'm in grave need of a way to knock some sense into me [or knock the crap out of me].

Too often, I find myself zoning out for a few minutes. It's kind of like when you savagely stomp on a line of ants [probably marching off to put into action their conspiracy to overthrow homo sapien dominance], and you see you've created a gap in the otherwise steady linear formation. That little gap? That's my memory.

I go completely blank for a short period of time, and have no recollection whatsoever of the happenings around me [which is quite possibly the reason I didn't have time to finish my quiz and was chased out of the room by the teacher].

I'm either showing premature signs of chronic hypomnesia, or I'm developing a John Nash-type of disorder. Either way, I'm messed up. Oh, the joys of being me.

Written by jihwan at 12:30 AM.

4 x 0 = 0

When I get too complacent about my "Things to do" list [or when I'm high from licking sugar crystals from that one really good candy], and I'm just sitting around picking my nose just to gross my sister out, my mind tends to meander into that zone. You know the one.

I stare at the TV and see someone watching TV. Then I think, Heh. It would be interesting if the dude inside my TV was watching TV where some other dude was watching TV where some other dude was watching TV where some other dude was watching TV where some other dude was watching TV where some other dude was watching TV where some other dude was watching TV. Yeah...

Or I stare at my corrugated ceiling and see little symbols. Or pictures. Or scenes from the War of 1812. Then I blink, and it's gone. So cool.

Sometimes, if I'm really bored and looking for a good way to get my ass kicked, I lay down on the kitchen floor so I'm in mom's way when she's trying to cook. When she steps on me out of annoyance and spite, I scream my tonsils out, throwing in a womanly shriek here and there for some flavor. She gets startled starts chasing me around the counter with her spatula, occasionally lashing out with her foot and screaming something about how she's gonna throttle me. [Those of you who know my mom, you can imagine how hilarious that would be.] I'm too busy laughing my guts out to really escape her, and she catches me and gives me the beatdown of my life with the deadly spatula/slipper combo. When she goes back to cooking, I do it again.

When you're bored, or just don't want to do anything productive, the best remedy is stupidity.

Written by jihwan at 01:31 AM.

2 x 0 = 0

Whoa. I have been nominated for Best Korean Blog on the Asian Weblog Awards. Although I know I can't compete with the great sites up there, it's flattering to think someone deems my tabula competition-worthy.

Whoever entered my little thoughts into a contest, I thank you. I'm also very afraid of you. He/she commented on my tagboard that he/she had entered my email address instead of their own to stay "anonymous." Note: tagboard entry has since been deleted. Now, I'm sure he/she had good intentions, but I must advise him/her that I am changing my email password [just in case he/she is some sort of mad website-nominating rapist with a fetish for short Asian guys].

For you people that frequent this site [to confirm my insanity, I suppose], it would be great if you'd go and cast a vote. It's titled "Enter. Think. Leave. Think."

And for those of you that have been linked to this site from the nomination site - before you read these entries, I must make a few things clear:

1) I'm not gay.
2) I may seem a bit strange, but you'll get used to it.
3) I'm only 16 years old. Do not ask me questions pertaining to my "legality."
4) No, really. I'm not gay.

Written by jihwan at 08:25 PM.

9 x 0 = 0

For my AP English presentation of Mark Twain, I've decided to don the good 'ol 1800s Missouri getup. If I say so myself, it's a brilliant idea.

And if it were anyone else doing it, I'm sure my teacher would love it. But seeing as how it's Jihwan Kim that's putting creativity into his project, it goes to logic that she'll give me a look of disgust/dislike/complete lack of favoritism, and a grade to match. Put simply, let's say I'm not on the top of her "Students-that-will-get-a-good-presentation-grade-even-though-they-completely-left-a-gaping-hole-in-one-of-the-main-points-of-the-project-and-went-on-to-ramble-on-about-irrelevant-and-completely-off-topic-information" list.

I mean, come on, how can you not enjoy a full-blown Asian representation of the blonde, curly-haired Tom Sawyer?

Written by jihwan at 11:03 PM.

11 x 0 = 0

I took my behind-the-wheel driver test today. How did I do? Let the picture tell all.



Yes. That's right. Go me.

I've reached that once-mythical, dreamlike milestone in my life. I remember when I was about 7, looking over my dad's shoulder and being amazed that he had perfect control over the big hunk of metal on wheels. *sniff* Sweet memories....

Now that I have my driver license, there isn't a goal I can't reach. Next week, I'm going to be running for mayor. In a few months, I think I'll try my hand at scaling Mt. Everest with nothing but my underwear and a pair of specially designed ballmuffs. [You've gotta keep the little guys warm, you know. We'd like Jihwan to stay fertile. You have to have the little Jihwan-clones running around with fangs, running headfirst into crotches and wreaking havoc by tearing chunks out of people's..] *ahem*

I'll see ya'll on the road.

Written by jihwan at 11:12 PM.

2 x 0 = 0

Ever wonder about those people who say they are giving more than 100%? We've all listened to that enthusiastic teacher with the plastered-on smile, or the let's-get-friendly-with-the-employees boss, who always, always, always wants you to give over 100%.

How about achieving 103%? Here's a little math that might prove helpful.

What makes life 100%?

If:

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

is represented as:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26,

Then:

H A R D W O R K
8 1 18 4 23 15 18 11 = 98%

K N O W L E D G E
11 14 15 23 12 5 4 7 5 = 96%

But:

A T T I T U D E
1 20 20 9 20 21 4 5 = 100%

And:

B U L L S H I T
2 21 12 12 19 8 9 20 = 103%

So, it stands to reason that hardwork and knowledge will get you close, attitude will get you there, but bullshit will put you over the top.

And look how far

A S S K I S S I N G
1 19 19 11 9 19 19 9 14 7 = 118%

will take you.

Written by jihwan at 01:18 AM.

3 x 0 = 0

I have thousands of ideas that zoom around in my head at any given time. Whether I'm conscious of them, unconscious of them, or just too freaking lazy to make myself conscious of them, my thoughts pervade my brain at a nice and steady 1,000,000 mph [assuming that nonphysical objects travel at a physical speed].

Many of these thoughts are solid, well-developed stories, poems, or rants. Some are abstract wisps of subconscious mist. And a select few thoughts are the kind that most closely resemble a tangled fishing line.

Once in a hot pink moon [blue moons are SO twentieth century], you have a day with nothing to do but to sit around at home picking your butt and watching Jerry Springer reruns while slowly consuming a jar of peanut butter with your finger. That's when you realize, out of the blue, that your fishing line is sitting in the garage like a forlorn clump of tumbleweed.

Being the bored loser that you are, you sit cross-legged in your living room and attempt to untangle it with "Moonlight Sonata" playing eerily in the background.

You're in no hurry - you have the patience to sit it out and work it out one knot at a time. You may come across a wad of gum that is imbedded into a hundred knots, and you may encounter the rebel knot that refuses to untie. But you know that if you work with it slowly and methodically, you'll get it sooner or later.

Currently, I'm trying to untangle my own little fishing line. And for the life of me, I can't seem to comprehend the positive/negative correlation between what girls say and what they do. They seem to be complete polar opposites.

I guess all I can do is take it one knot at a time.

Written by jihwan at 11:55 PM.

5 x 0 = 0

All right. After much deliberation, periods of intense concentration, multiple stress-induced comas, two bottles of Tylenol, a couple trips to the astrologist, a very strange palm reading session, hundreds of scented candles and mystical crystal balls, a few burst blood vessels, a couple gray hairs [the forerunner to premature balding and impotence], and a large head-shaped dent in my wall, I experienced a revelation that helped me to untie a knot. I think that with this piece of knowledge, the rest of the fishing line will be a bit easier to untangle.

The revelation:

Girls don't always say what they mean, and they don't always mean what they say.

Written by jihwan at 04:33 PM.

2 x 0 = 0

You don't like my little journal? You think it's biased, one-sided, and chauvinistic? [I'm going out on a limb here and assuming that you know the definition of chauvinism.] You don't like the ideas expressed in my entries?

Oh. I'm sorry. I was under the impression that this was MY [insert gasp here] JOURNAL.

It's interesting how you can write me an 8-paragraph e-mail about how I don't talk about "important" topics, then, with a simple ALT+TAB, prattle on for another 11 paragraphs vividly describing your day. Which, I might add, is just like your EVERY OTHER FREAKIN DAY.

"weLLz, lolS, i woke uP toDai, it wUz soOoo mucH haRdeR thAn yes'TdaI... loLs... mAi mOm hAd tUh yEll @ meeH fO bOutz 10, nO, 13 m1Ns tiLL i wEnt nD brUshd mAi teef... nd deN i hAd tuh gO tuH skOol~ i fOoled rouNdZ fO awhilez.. OmG, dAnnY wUz sOoo fr'kn funNee.. dAyuM..den... i cAme home... dEn toOk a nAp... hAd tUh waKe uP cuhZ maI F'n mOm stArt'd biTch'N @ meeH... whieE wuN't shE jSs leAvE meEh alOne!! aFtur daT, i HaD tuH dO hW.. bUh f'GiT iT.. iLL jss d1tCh sKoOl tOmorRaHz..

*about now, the reader puts his mouse scroll on lock, catches himself a nice, fat steer, goes to the kitchen, cooks himself some steak, sits on the toilet and unloads for a good two hours, goes and negotiates treaties with North Korea, misses the flight back, has to stowaway on a boat from Singapore, fights through hordes of hostile native american tribes, gets home, takes a well-earned nap, enjoys a nice game of solitaire, and, being bored, goes back to the computer to continue reading.*

..nd dEn, maI th1rD eyElaSh wuZ sTuck tuH da fOurF' wUn!! oMggg~ piSs'd mEeh oFF sOoo fr'Kn muCh!!! o weLLz.. lOlz... gUesS daT's Lyfe... ... .. oH mAI GAWd!! i aLmosT f'gOt!!!! i gOt a neW sH1rT tOdaII~ iTz fRum hOlliSter, nD it hAd liTTle spArkly sTuffS on iT, nD onLy cOst $59.99!! ... yAwn... i fEeL tiRed.. im 'gun gO gIt suM rEst, aIIte? soRRy itZ suCh a ShoRt enTry.. i pr'mIse tuH pOst 'moE tOmoRRahZ!! pAycE~* <333

Shoot me. If you think anyone gives a drowning rat's posterior about your indecipherable babbling, you need help. At least people read my entries, perhaps even out of spite of your display of idiocy. If you don't get some of the humor in my entries, then try picking up a book that doesn't give "319 Tips on perming your hair."

Oh yes, while you're at it, go jump off a bridge.

Written by jihwan at 01:58 AM.

5 x 0 = 0

First of all, a very Merry Christmas to all. However, good 'ol Santa must've misread the California census and thought that there was only ONE child in the Kim household. Why, you ask? Is it because Santa was in a hurry to get to Johnny's house? Or was it because Santa had too many cookies and glasses of milk that he developed severe diarrhea on the sleigh ride here and had to squat in my chimney and do his thing?

NO.

It's because Santa is a fat biased assface. Let's analyze this dastardly situation.

Jiyoung [my sister] is a vicious flesh-eating ghoul that feasts on the pain and suffering of others [namely, yours truly]. She periodically goes into rampages when she is sleepy, resulting in farmers' complaints about their missing livestock. She locks herself in her room, turns on some freakishly demented music [Boys II Men or 98 Degrees], lights satanic black candles, and sways as though transfixed by the mesmerizing grip of the devil. On full moons, she sprouts a scythe from her arms and releases her inner monster, ravaging the quiet countryside of Canoga Park and slaughtering innocent men, women, and children.

Still don't believe me?



Explain THAT.

Here is what this FREAK of a human being got for Christmas:

1) Arizona sweater
2) Mashimaro tissue dispenser
3) Artbox picture frame
4) White stuffed bear
5) Silver rose necklace
6) White & Brown stuffed puppy
7) Avon moisture lotion
8) Mashimaro bunny slippers
9) Rampage jacket [from Jihwan]
10) American Eagle miniskirt [also from Jihwan]
11) XOXO soft down jacket
12) Red & Green elf cap
13) PacSun shirt
14) Ferrero Rocher chocolates
15) Leather stitched jeans
16) Designer pants
17) Hollister T-shirt
18) Spongebob backpack
19) Bags and bags of assorted candies
20) $30 gift card for Topanga Shopping Center
21) Bongo backpack
22) Frog bobblehead slippers
23) A 2-pound box of See's candy
and
24) The joy and happiness of opening so many gifts

Jihwan, on the other hand, is a nice, law-abiding resident alien in the good 'ol U-S of A. He pays his taxes, keeps his room relatively clean, takes out bags of maggotty garbage every so often, and, once in a while, dons his red cape and saves the world from the invading extraterrestrial bastards that try to take away our freedom to eat chili fries. All in all, Jihwan is a worthy candidate for at least some good gifts this holiday season. This Christmas, Jihwan received [excluding gifts for the whole family]:

1) a fleece sweater from an old lady at church
and
2) the joy and happiness of opening a fleece sweater from an old lady at church

I swear on the burning blood that runs through my veins that I will find that fat tub of lard they call "Santa" and hunt him down.

Happy Holidays, everyone!!!

Written by jihwan at 12:49 PM.

18 x 0 = 0

The last time I was in a fistfight was in the second grade, when I beat the crap out of my best friend. "Beat the crap out of," meaning I landed a few and he kicked me in the stomach a couple times, until the teacher broke us up. Oh yeah, we were both crying, which doesn't help the tough-guy image I'm trying to build up.

When I say "fight," I don't mean playfighting, gangfighting, or senseless brutality. I have this idealized image of "the perfect fight." It would be set in the 야인시대 times [for the non-Koreans: South Korean streets in the 1940s, in front of a parlor]. I would have an aura of bravery and strength surrounding me, and the other guy would be a sadistic pervert who tried to harass the beautiful-and-helpless love of my life.

The camera would circle the two of us, zoom into the other guy's ugly, battle-hardened face, then zoom out. When the camera pans over from my feet to my determined, handsome face, the music would swell magnificently. My eyes will be hard, my feet planted, and my fist clenched.

The crowd surrounding the two of us would gaze wonderingly at the clean-cut gentleman who has been roused from his otherwise peaceful ways for the cause of justice. The men will be awed, the women will swoon, and my lady will fearfully look on with tears in her gorgeous eyes.

The dust will swirl around my feet, creating flurries of soft brown mist that obscures the intensity of the situation. The other guy [who we'll call "sadistic pervert who tried to harass the beautiful-and-helpless love of my life," or SADPERV for short] lunges at me, spitting and cursing. I nimbly sidestep him and land a crushing blow to his face. He throws himself at me, screaming like a maniac and knocking me off my feet. As he jumps on me, I throw a mighty fist into his gut, causing him to gasp with pain and surprise.

I turn, expecting no resistance. But SADPERV unsheaths a hidden knife [how cliche] and lunges at me once more. Turning around, I duck, barely missing the blade as it whistles past my ear. I fall to one knee. The bright red slash on the side of my face wells with blood until a drop splatters on the ground. I look up with a fire burning in my eyes, and as SADPERV closes in for the killing strike, I gather all the strength left in me and spring up toward him. I am fueled by the love for my woman, and a yell escapes me as my fist connects with his skull with a sickening crack. With a startled look, SADPERV drops to his knees, and with a strangled cry, falls to the dust. He is dead.

The crowd is silent, horror-stricken by what has just passed. I look up from my opponent, red blood dripping from my face and hand. My lady rushes over to me, weeping, and embraces me.

I take my love by the hand and lead her home.

Once you get past the corny scenes and the trite sequence of events, I think it would be cool.

Written by jihwan at 04:32 PM.

9 x 0 = 0

For three days, I'm off to a retreat at Big Bear. I consider it a well-earned break from my hard work of sleeping, eating, and playing games. Yeah.. winter vacation.. tough times...

I have high hopes for this retreat. The last time I was in the mountains, I had to stay in an old, dilapitaded cabin without electricity or running water. But there was a special Holiday Inn group discount for mosquitos of all shapes and sizes, not to mention a free buffet of nice O+ blood from the human male who was trying to sleep there. [Stupid bloodsucking monsters...] So this year, as long as there are light switches, water taps, and mosquito nets, I'll be happy.

And if two of my friends and I mysteriously become missing, and the police find video footage of strange witchcraft rituals 3 years later, then you'll have something to talk about. [I watched part of The Blair Witch Project a few days ago. Shoot me.] But if not, and I come home safely, then you can throw me a party.

Missing me already, eh?

Written by jihwan at 01:46 AM.

2 x 0 = 0

There was no snow. But other than that, I'd say the retreat was a success. I'm too sore to really type anything long, so I'll just go with the standard "What did Jihwan learn?" list.

What did Jihwan learn?

- In a cabin with 9 guys, someone farts every five minutes.
- When you're out of hot water for your cup ramen, hot sink water is the next best solution, even when everyone makes fun of you. You'll get the last laugh.
- 6 hours of basketball and volleyball after months of no exercise leaves you with the inablity to walk, sit, or squat.
- Girls with an arsenal of permanent markers are very dangerous.
- The Junior High kids can't handle pranks; they go crying to the staff.
- When you get home, your bed is the most comfortable thing in the world.
- When you eat nothing but cup ramen, your urine smells like the ramen soup. Seriously.

On a serious note, though, the retreat did a world of good for me. I renewed my relationship with God and made a few commitments that I plan to keep. It was a great chance for me to get one-on-one with God and reflect on what my Christian walk was like.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've lost feeling in my arms.

Written by jihwan at 10:49 PM.

2 x 0 = 0