When I arrived in Singapore a year and a half ago, I made a list of things I should remember to do. I promptly forgot all about said list and continued on with life as merry. 

 I recently came upon a bucket of nostalgia and was going through my entries from last year when I ran into it again~ It's astounded me how many of these goals actually... are very mature. Here is how a year and a half of life in SG has progressed according to the goals I made in July of 2011.

 

1) Get past probation. Status: achieved

Since I am obviously still here, still attached to my company, and still bleeding for it-- I guess this means I must not have gotten fired. Then again, during the first few months at my company, I learned that it is known as a 'fireproof' position-- as in to get fired, you need a lot of proof.

2) Dress to impress. Status: faltering.

One thing that struck me as strange in Singapore, is that for the money and the opportunity and the media here, people dress like homebodies. What they consider acceptable attire in the office, I find to be downright casual. But if I wear my nice shirts and my nice skirts and my fancy shoes, I get scolded for being inappropriate.  I've since stopped caring, now I wear jeans and sketty straps to work.

3) Minus the materialism: status: achieved.

Oddly enough, this one never bothered me. I suppose that when you are in college, and you spend more time with your peers than you would with your office co-workers, of course status would matter. I haven't picked up the desire for the traditional 5C's: Cash, Credit Card, Condominium, Car, Country Club. ... Though there are seven C's in there. I work in a place where my co-workers and I only hang out once or twice a month outside of the workplace. I haven't been tempted to change who I am for their sake yet-- then again, it could be because I have surrounded myself in people I understand, and avoid those who I don't.

4) Be a smart spender. Status: achieved

Thank god that Singapore is so expensive. Now I limit my new shopping to the rare occasions I go home. I've bought four or five pairs of shoes (because they are cheap here and break after a month or two of using them) and .... a camera lens I think. and that's it. Though now a days, my vice is traveling. And the traveling has been great.

5) Stay fit. Status: ongoing.

Soon after I moved to Singapore  I met a guy who ran a gym, and i joined. He has been fantastic. He pushes me hard, and I love coming home feeling like I had a work out. Odd thing, though-- dating seems to put on the pounds so i'm no better or worse than when I've started. I love my boyfriend though... a lot.

6) Remember who you are. Status: achieved

I am constantly reminded that I am different. My accent alone puts me aside from the rest of the crowd. But when all is said and done, maybe Singapore is not alienating me; maybe Singaporean ideals are just TOO far detached from what I value in life. I haven't been tempted to change. and those friends I've made that matter here-- don't ever ask me to.

 

Singapore though, has brought me more satisfying results than just work. And I've learned so much here about the culture, dynamics of people, and the global market. Goals achieved or not, the experience I have now gained from living on the completely opposite side of the world from home has taken me to new heights. I've made new goals... now, but I ought to remember these too. 

Funny thing. I've been thinking about the possible long-term ideas of family planning...

So i was just thinking, the other day, 'BITCH YOU ARE SO SELFISH AND RUDE AND STUPID AND NARROW MINDED; YOU'RE A FUCKING HYPOCRITE AND A LITTLE SHIT STIRRER AND I'M NOT TALKING TO YOU ANY MORE', when I realized there isn't really any point in saying that to anyone. 

Okay, maybe I did not those exact words, in fact I had a very eloquent soliloquy explaining why said person was an imbecile that carefully picked at actions, words, and examples of previous encounters. And I REALLY wanted to post them up as an open letter as to share my irritation with the world as well as the person on my mind. But who benefits from dragging the truth out into the open to see, especially if the person you want to flambe is someone you don't like and will likely never hear your opinion through before coming up with choice words about you of their own?  

It doesn't seem to matter how true or how vehement your opinion is, if it hurts someone who you will never see or speak to again, is there any reason to bring it up at all? There have been many times I've typed 'carefully constructed criticism of other people's flawed logic' and 'impregnable defenses for the emotions I have and the actions I have taken' only to stare at it for a while and finally delete them all and replace it with a single line implying I don't care anymore. Even if I still do care.

I asked my boyfriend why his parents divorced today, and as a mark of wisdom-- he shared with me something someone once told him: 

"When things are good, (or okay even) You take the little troubles and you tuck them away, hidden and they don't bother you. When things are bad then those little things all come out and snowball and you will find every little thing from then onward."

It's the little things that ruin relationships. 

I could think of all the little things that I did and all the arguments that stood in my favor. And I could rattle off a mountain of grievances that would only serve to make me feel much better about being angry and being right. But are they only validated by the knowledge that the person i don't like, who's opinion I don't actually care about, has heard and has been belittled by me? I mean, what a double standard, I don't like them and don't care about their opinion, yet their submission to my power is important to me? 

Well it shouldn't be. 

I will keep my opinions to myself... and all my friends who matter.... and pretty much anyone who asks. Ha. But I will not bring it up to those who think they can cow me by being petty and trite and smaller than I. Not fighting back, at least verbally, may seem weak, but I like to think that it's a better kind of strength. 

I don't like to talk about my personal life, so I guess this makes for part of the reason this train of thought appeals to me. I don't like people asking me about my private life and I won't talk about it if it doesn't relate to them. I don't care if anyone asks and I will tell them the truth, but I never volunteer my private emotions to anyone who is no less than the closest friend. and I don't really care what other people think of me, in fact i like being underestimated. I know I'm right, that's good enough.

 

The things people don't know, are far better than the things they think they know.

It seems, as I get older, the good memories of nice and pleasant people sort of dull during time. And now-a-days, the most I remember of my fading childhood actually are not the most pleasant of experiences. Not bad ones, just certain life lessons that stand most vividly out to me the most despite being such small occurrences in my life.

When I was little, I had an English teach named Mr. Engle. One day, as it was his job, he stood in front of my sixth grade class and handed us each a black and white sheet with crossed lines, each negative space marked with a number, and then he gave us the instructions not to write anything down.

"I will be reading out all of these rules to you carefully. You have to pay close attention and listen to each rule for they all matter..."

The list consisted of approximately 20 instructions, mostly talking about what color each number represented, what boxes you were to fill in, anything with even numbers are to be colored in red, anything divisible by seven had to be filled in orange, and so on and so forth. Of course there was no way a child of our limited learning capacity could possibly remember what might as well be a list of a hundred instructions without writing anything down, so I, like over 75% of our little class tried our tiny best to cheat and write down as many of the rules as we could in so short a time frame.

"Read all the instructions carefully before you start coloring." He said as he reached all the way to the end of the list. Then he put his master sheet down on his teacher's podium. He looked at us as we sweated to remember all the instructions then finally said, "You may start coloring."

What happened after was an indistinguishable blur, I barely remember coloring-- students exchanged answers, and swapped rules that one had obtained that others had not. After ten minutes the word slowly, clearly appeared. Even before I was done with my rules, I could see the outline of the objective immediately. it said:

'Listen'

The whole activity must have been done in 15 minutes or less, and it was then a girl from the class walked in. She was late and had to catch up so instead of reading the instructions to her like he did with us, Mr. Engle gave her the instruction sheet. Having finished our task the rest of the class was a-buzz with energy and the satisfaction of finishing such a simple assignment after such a huge build-up. We waited and waiting for her to finish hers.

When the other girl was done (Much faster than us, and I thought it was because she could look at the rules directly unlike the rest of the class that was forced to write their cheats in secret), Mr. Engle took a quick look at her sheet, put it on top of the stack of the rest of our finished (Identically multi colored) assignments and announced:

"There was only one correct answer in this class." And he showed us hers.

There was a silence that fell over the sixth graders. The moment he held up her sheet to show us was the memory that I find the most clear of my time in school at Carlisle. Her sheet was white, green and blue, and only contained the word 'List'.

Mr. Engle proceeded to explain that the instructions stated we had to read the instructions, and that at the very end of the list, not included in the rules, was a single line that said, "You only have to complete Rule 5 and Rule 8."

I was livid. I had been tricked, and I hated being tricked. More so, I had not been given the opportunity to read his instructions, so there had been no reason for us to have seen the final, crucial rule. As a child I wanted to be treated fairly, without hidden clauses and reasons and idiosyncrasies. More so, I REALLY hated being tricked. I stewed in that thought for the whole hour, then it was lunch time and I promptly forgot.

Actually, come to think of it, I'm not even sure if Mr. Engle was an English teacher or just a substitute for one. At either rate, what subject he really taught when I was eleven doesn't actually matter. It doesn't even really matter is that I didn't like him. What matters is that he taught me this one lesson that has lasted me almost a whole twenty years later.

As an adult I try to understand the big picture before I start doing things. I don't want to be tricked by anyone that way ever again. And I only feel confident to commit if I know I have all of the facts. I try to remember that people usually tell you things for a reason, and that it is always good to "Listen" to what they have to say, even if you don't think it's important to you now. Like that last bit of instructions, little things shouldn't ever be dismissed.

On the Singapore Public Holiday, National day, I went on a camping trip for four at Endau Rompin National Park (... I think). I'm not a camper, not a happy camper anyway, but it was a good trip. =} People make the journey pleasant right?

 

 

7:00 AM

I have to say a few things about intercity trains. They rock. They ROCK. They are hot. ha ha. The 8:00 train from Woodlands to Bekok would take 3 hours; A fair amount of time IF YOU DON'T GET A SEAT. Yes folks. The trains to Malaysia are free seating, meaning, you may be free of a seat. I'm not a good morning person. The fact that I had to book for my tickets and get in line for my seat at 6 AM in the morning KILLED me. Fortunately, my companions are actually responsible and experienced and were able to rustle us four seats on the very long train ride. 

S-- sacrificed his seat to an old lady at one point. So I sat on Greed's lap while we slept and let our friend have my seat. He was back in his own seat by the time we reached our small town village destination. 

 

4 wheels away

As much as i do like the trains, I love a four wheel drive ride along a four wheel drive road even more. We were greeted across the street from what ammounts to the town's train station and then taken shopping for supplies. With water (no gas), toilet paper, and ikambilis, we set off on the hour long ride from the small town, to the small camp. With the windows rolled down, my ass hitting the cushions at bump-shit-miles-per-hour and the sun streaming in my face, I could't help but relish in the fact I wasn't in the Garden City any more. 

And what was even more surprisingly pleasant was the distinct change in temperature. Even from the ride to the town to the heart of the rainforest, that sudden cool drop was more refreshing than a day of rest in the big city. I felt so comfortable. The view was clear and the plantations were far on the other side of the mountians. We were in RESERVES land, where it's about trees, birds, fresh air and no hot water. ZOMG. I'm going to die.

 

Camping Kampong! 

The camp was sparse; and not just by way of utilities. I mean there were no people! It was a place designed for over 50 people and we were traveling during the off season. Us four were the only four guests in the camp. Thing is though, the camp was well kept. A leafy hand lain stone entrance fed into a simply cemented web of sidewalks that connected several small 'huts'.

These huts each had power connected to them, a fan that could be run from 7pm to 7am, doors with locks, windows that opened and high raised mats on boards as beds. Except not us, no power for us that weekend. Regardless, I was surprised. I expected to be sleeping on dirt. I'm happy. My buddeh and I laid down our one sleeping bag and I quickly changed into a swim suit so that I could leap into the river that ran past our camp site. 

The river flowed slowly through our area of camp, but the rocks upstream churned them and made it cool, refreshing, and bug free! There was a swing tied up to a tree that looked either way down the river; from that, my favorite perch, you could see the birds float from one tall tree to the next on the other side of the bank, and you could see the entrance to the waterfall trails as it leads deep into the rainforest, and you could see the sky, a strange haze but brighter and clearer than any sky in singapore. 

The camp was cute.

 

Makan

Our first day we had been a bit optimistic and partially expected to catch fish. Obviously... we didn't. Though Greed was damn close to hooking himself a swallow. As part of the provisions purchased at Bekok from the small convenience stores, we had fresh vegetables and little fish called ikambilis. Spell that. We also had whatever food the Squirrels did NOT manage to steal after our first hour of being there. 

Every day after that, we had some kind of ramen. I'm not a big ramen fan. Well I mean I am, but not four days straight. I'm so glad there were eggs and tomatoes! 

CAMPING TIP: Bring Garlic. And calamansi if you can find any. AND SALT! (More on that later).

 

Bloody trek

Despite my worst fears, the leeches on the hike were not as bad as I thought they would be. Though that could just be me speaking of things that didn't bother me, as my boyfriend was human fodder for the little blood suckers. Within the first 20 minutes to the first water fall, Greed had obtained two leeches on his shoes and one on his ankle. It bled. I flipped shit a bit. I spent the rest of the hike watching my feet and stamping the little buggers out as soon as they touched my toes. Despite my vigil, I STILL got bit by the time we reached the first waterfall. 

TANGENTAL STORY. reaching the waterfalls at the end of each hike was like finding a fountain of diamonds cascading over lumps of gold. ZOMG. After the hot, grueling uphill battle through rocks, spiky plants, bugs and leeches, nothing is more rewarding than a brief swim in the cold tumbling water of the falls.

The first falls we found were cute. Small, secluded, like a little spa. While sitting in the chilly water with my boyfriend and someone else's boyfriend I relished in the escape of it all. At least... I did until I got attacked by a tadpole. The little thing bit my crotch! or tried to. hit my thigh. I laughed about it. 

The second trek was the next day. It was twice as long, and four times as steep. I wont lie, I straight up hated it. We had stopped for mandatory lunch about five minutes from the falls least I (and maybe someone else) passed out of simple starvation. during the break we watched the forest ants carry a line of crumbs toward their nest. They may be pests, but in the wild, they are damn cute.

The waterfalls for the second day were breath taking. well... that may be because I didn't have a lot of breath once I got there in the first place. It was like having our own private water park. The rocks droped water in two tiers. The sound crashed powerfully on each surface it hit. it then pooled into a deep resivoir that was filtered with fallen trees and rocks before it continued on down the rest of the mountain. We spent over two hours there. We had a God carved lounge rock for two, a rocky diving board, and the fishes liked eating my feet. And Greed's back. We let them, unlike the mosquitoes or the leeches, who we salted immediately.  I didn't want to leave.

Though... I got my cam lens wet and now it has spots and darn. =|

For both cases, the trip back was significantly faster than the trip up. Something about running down hill maybe? I'm so glad the uphill portion was the first half of the trek. I don't think I could have done a straight trek both ways.  

LEECH COUNT: Buddeh wins with seven in one trip. I think he had three or four more the first day. I got bitten three times the first day, and once on the second day (BUT ONLY BECAUSE I UBER PREPARED). Se-- had ZERO. correct... zero. And Sy-- .... dunno, but I know he got bitten on his belly button once. cheeky leech. 

 

Snuggle time

The cabins were not small by any means, so there was plenty of space to move about, and when we went to bed (with the mosquito coils), I slept with a good air gap between mine. The mornings of a rainforest though, are freezing and I found myself leeched on... uh... yeah.. to my personal space heater. I only showered twice during the trip though, and the first time I showered was followed by 38 mosquito bites (I counted them later!). So I was too scared to shower too often, especially with our borrowed moz repellent slowly dwindling to empty. Still, the beds were decent for the situation. and of course the company was well kept. =}

I hope this one never gets sick of me.

We were star gazing the night of the 11th. We stayed out looking into the night sky despite the haze for an hour. Exhausted we went to bed. It wasn't till the next day after we returned from the trip did we hear about the meteor shower that night. If only we had stayed up past midnight (Which is usually not hard to do) we would have seen the stars! Oh well, a lot of wishes came true that night anyway. 

 

Back to Basics

Funny story, the train to Bekok cost us 5 SGD per person. The train back to Singapore cost us 5 MYR. hhuhh. 

 

 

So I digress, Camping is not my cup of tea, par say... but I can't say I didn't enjoy myself either. I like traveling, guess this is just a part of the traveling that I should suck up and do! What is a traveler that only goes where things are familiar. Not at traveler at all. I can't wait for the next one. Can't wait at all.

I like to think that a girl can be nice to a guy without fear of ‘leading someone on’. But I do realize now that there are some boys who just really can’t tell the difference between when a woman is flirting, reciprocating, being friendly or just being painfully polite. I have long ago come to the decision that it should not be entirely fault of the woman for leading a guy on—that, a large part of the responsibility should be on the guy for leading himself on. I have recently been affirmed of the notion.

As an example (though on a very slightly related tangent); All throughout college I was given the great privilege of being friends with a boy with Serious Aspersers (BwSA). I say it was a privilege to be his friend because I sure as fuck would not have liked to have been one of his love interests.

While I may stand on the few girls in BwSA’s friend repertoire that has the fortune of understanding him as a good (but strange) friend, I have noticed his uncanny ability to create a relationship with someone who doesn’t even really care that he exists. And these poor girls get so uncomfortable that they actually start to get violent. 

I use to think that this was just mild misfortune, and that BwSA had just picked girls who didn’t go for nice guys—then I saw what a big part of the the issue was: He's one of the many guys who assumed that if a girl is being nice to him, then they have non-verbally agreed on a relationship with him that was by no means to scale with the actual relationship is. BwSA doesn't understand hints, or even words... or anything short of scolding. What I can imagine to be the most awkward part for the women is that he goes too fast and encroached on the ‘inappropriate zones’ entirely too soon. Guys like him probed at personal questions are were private, even to your super-good bestie-friends. He was one of those guys who are under the assumption that being a creeper into other people's lives somehow earns appreciation and respect; that it is a good thing to demonstrate how invasive and dedicated his interest really was.

They're being nice. Don't go romanticizing your relationship with said woman because she went out to dinner with you. Your fantasy stays in your head, not real life. 

BwSA’s ability to fabricate his own reality is something that I would admire under other circumstances. And it works well when your obsession is over intimate objects like comics, cameras or math, but when your object-of-affection has emotions of their own, being a doting man to a woman who is completely uninterested is as a big repulsion as a full-frontal photo of a gooey harry cooch.

I say this with a small amount of authority; I've been on the receiving end of others like BwSA.

In general, a certain amount of chemistry, time and affection earn you a certain amount of liberties within a friendship. Notice, TIME and CHEMISTRY; You don’t give someone flowers, chocolate and some creepy memento that you built based off of ‘some slight hint on a facebook status update from two years ago' and expect to instantly skip into the 'intimate friend zone'. IT IS NOT A PAYMENT SYSTEM. It’s not friend/not-friend, or girlfriend/not-girlfriend system. It’s a slowly building process. For those who can’t understand that steps are to be made, then I can imagine that finding relationships would be difficult. And I keep telling him, just because you admire her, doesn’t mean that they feel the same way. So far, I haven’t made contact.

The worst risk is assuming you have earned a level of trust and comfort to dote—and for the most part, he doesn’t. he just assumes that by being interested in her, he is given that liberty. And the truth is, it’s fucking creepy. Even to me… and I’m not them! It's suffocating...

What makes it even more awkward is that he doesn’t actually know anything about these girls. Like the rest of their relationship, he fills in this preconception with his own made up personality. And then he assumes a whole façade out of the view of a single facet-- It doesn’t seem to occur to him that the personality he gives them is not actually their personality. Which is why he is so surprised and hurt when they turn around and tell him they have other interests besides the ones he had assumed of them to them.

A normal person wouldn’t be surprised, but guys like him certainly are.

He rants to me about how she had someone else in mind, how he’d spent so much time on them, yada ydad. Well sometimes I want to smack him.

Do yourself a favour and SEE the truth of a relationship you have with these women before you decide to go about hurting yourself for them, especially if they TELL you they don’t care about you.

So I have come to the conclusion.... I love him, but BwSA needs a dog.

In response to: the Myth of Happy Marriages.

Wow.... you guys are all really sad. Are ya'll saying that you actually know more people who are unhappy that they are married than happy to have married? Why the fuck would anyone marry if they are going to be unhappy in it.

I have had the fortunate position of being raised in a society where almost all of the couples around me come from happy marriages. all of my close friends parents are happily married. All of my close friends grand parents are happily married. All of my married friends are happily married. In fact, it actually was't until I met my first boyfriend's parents did I really understand what an unhappy marriage was. Outside of my home town, I noticed it was not uncommon for parents to be divorced or unhappy, even then though it was not a majority either.

As I am only an observer of many happy marriages and cannot actually give advice as to how one can maintain a happy relationship. I can reflect on things that I have seen though.

Chemistry is one... and the ability to accept I think would be another. What I've noticed is that a lot of people seem to get married to individuals they don't actually know-- okay it's easy to say 'we're in love' but once the magic of that fades away, do you still care about the person?

My parents were lucky, they got engaged within a year of meeting each other and remained happily married for 35 years. I think they were just ready and I think they just knew... and I think they worked on it. Likewise, even if you are technicall compatible, but the chemistry isn't there-- then DON'T DO IT!

Time is another. My mom always said that good love was like fine wine, it gets better with age. Likewise, you can't really expect to know and be completely devoted to someone after meeting them a year before. Know a little, grow together-- then love the more you learn. It's logical to me that spending more time with someone means learning more things about them, and as long as you like what you learn, you can expect love to grow over that time.

My friend from college dated a girl for 4 years and insisted they were not too interested in getting married. Next time I heard from them they were married for 3 years and expected a child. And they're as happy married as they were when they were dating.

Be willing to grow. cause sometimes you don't always get what you first thought you had. That doesn't mean that you won't like what you ended up with. I think that disagreements in relationships end up in unhappy marriages because one party, or both parties, are too suborn to work things out and get over their own self. Now, this is something important in marriages, If you have beef with a boyfriend and they are pretty persistent about it-- I suggest you walk.  

My dad's parents were arranged, sort of... and they loved each other so much that they waited three years while my grandpa worked and my grandma was stuck at home before they could happily be together-- and after my grandpa died, my grandma followed less than half a year later from a broken heart.

 

A happy marriage is a real thing. I for one, am willing to do the work to make sure I have one-- and I don't doubt i will have a happy marriage, or I will not marry at all.

me: "One of the summers at Purdue, my ex-boyfriend worked for the bio-med research lab. i think he was doing stem cell research."
she: "That sounds really cool. Did he work with animals. "
me: "Yeah. haha. His responsibility was to reproduce frogs, and to do that, he had to masturbate them. "
she: "Sounds like he had a very productive summer."

Child.

When i first started seeing my current boyfriend, I was still emotionally attached to my ex. Before haters start throwing cheater accusations-- No, my ex and I were ex'es when Greed and I met. But I still loved him and I still spoke to him regularly and to me, that counted. 

It was an agreement at the time; Greed and I would be just friends... and I think that he honestly felt that he didn't want a girlfriend when we met. I don't know when that changed, in fact, we don't know when we even officially got together.  He likes to say that I was the last person to know that we were a couple... he was calling me his girlfriend long before I thought we were even emotionally attached. 

We spent a lot of time together before Christmas and we went on a vacation for new years and shared a hotel room. Suppose that should have been a sign. Up until then I was still convinced I wasn't in love with him-- I don't know at the time, whether or not I was. All throughout that time, after evenings together, I'd laugh and wrap my arms around him, stare carefully into his face and say "I like you."

"I like you too."

 

I don't ever want to tell someone I love them unless I knew I loved them. I wouldn't want to tell someone I was in loved them unless I knew I wasn't IN love with someone else. So.... I didn't say it. But it was tempting to... and it was effing easy to. We were seeing each other for about 4 months and then dating for less than a week when I had to go away on a two week trip. He took me to the airport at 4 AM in the morning and we sat in a cafe -- shared a chair, I sat on his lap and he wrapped his arms around me. 

It was time to go, and he brought me to security and he stood there sheepishly.

"Okay. I'll miss you."

"Bye Jean." He waved a bit. 

"Bie B--."

"I love you sweetie." he blurted. 

There was an awkward moment where I stared at him. Blinked then was like, "OKAY THANKS BYE SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS!" Then I ran away. 

 

 

Korea has come and went. I knew I would think this before I got there, but my vacation was much too short. There were many things about Korea that I loved, chief among them was how much more like America it felt from Singapore. (For more reasons than besides the fact they drive on the correct side of the road)

Korean Fever

I had a conversation with a white guest at my guest house, she this lovely mother who walks with a cane and was born in Zimbabwe and is married to a Scottish man, and she was telling me she was so awed by the people in Korea. "They're all so pretty out there!" she had said, "And there aren't any OLD people wandering around."

I disagreed, then told her about the old Korean woman who nearly pushed me to my ass on the train. We both agreed that it was just so hard to guess the ages of Asians, her son (Who was working in Korea) had been telling her that the people in the handicap seats were all most likely over 60. But it's not about Asian genetics, at all or there would be more Singaporean men here who i would be oogling at. 

I've always thought this and it was only solidified by going to Seoul, but Koreans are so well groomed. There were a pack of four or five Korean girls who had caught the train for a week about 8:00 when I was going to work, and I always admired them. They stood out among the Singaporeans in so many ways-- their airbrushed skin, their bright captivating eyes, smooth hair, distinct style, the way they talked to each other... their posture. No slumping over in baggy printed Ts or scuffing about in high fashioned fitflops. Korean women in Korea were (for the most part) exactly what I thought of Korean women in the past. And okay, their men could be a bit accessorized... but I liked the underlaying style of Koreans more than most other far east Asians.

I should have gotten my hair cut there.

 

T-MONAY

I was on my own for the first few days, I decided to do a quick walking tour of my area and figured it would be a waste to just wait for my party to get there, so I brushed my teeth. Smiled at the white people eating breakfast at the kitchen and tried not to butt in despite how much I wanted to let them know I was American... The time would come soon enough. And then i walked my way to the place my bus dropped me off at. There was a train station there, and on a whim, I decided to buy a one way train ticket to City Hall. Once at City Hall, I realized they had instant money, and I stood in front of the vending machine for a minute looking at it thinking, 'shoooould I or should i not?'. I bought one. Best investment all trip.

Singapore has a similar system with their public transportation called EZ-link. Korea's T-money was ingenious. and cute. Of them readers out there who own a car and don't need to use public transportation, let me explain to you it's a pre-loaded tap pass that is (Can be) the size of a credit card. You put it on the turnstyle and the style will read it, draw out a deposit, then let you in. In Korea, you can use the T-money card to get on trains, buses, pay for taxis and even at some convenience stores. (I bought a token, which is the size of a phone charm!)

Apparently, a T-money card from Seoul can be used in different cities that use tap cash in Korea. Which I think is pretty bad ass. Just don't forget to load it before you leave the city. Even as a visitor, I didn't mind spending a bit extra on a T-money token; it makes a good souvenir.  

 

1, 2, 3, KIMCHEE!

Smile; forget about it. Cheese; FIiiift retro. Kimchee is the new catch phrase. Though before I get into food, there is one thing I need to declare before all else: P-- I love you, but this is the last time I go exploring in Far East Asia with a vegetarian. We can go to India together, and any other city that has easy access to non meat dishes-- but seriously... HOW DO YOU NOT GET FRUSTRATED IN ASIA?!

The food, by the way, was worth it. Though I had a few misses, for the most part Korean restaurants had good service, food, prices... atmosphere! Just... remember to bring a guide book or a phone that can google image a bowl of rice.

 

 

I would have been quite happy to experience a bathhouse or a traditional style house, but I have to say, sleeping in a guest house was not half bad. Maybe though, because I had my own room. Even then, I was looking forward to coming home. Guess it was cause I was a tad Greedy. =} Ironic right, I was the one who was waiting in Singapore... and he's the one who picked me up from the airport.