Thursday, December 23, 2010

12 days of Korean Christmas

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Monday, December 6, 2010

Can you tell I'm reading Gaiman?

I don't like December, not really.
Its trappings hang disconcertingly,
In such stark contrast to how we feel.
After all, you can't decorate what's dead.
Little lights alight, blur and bleed for bleary eyes
Because it's so cold I could cry.
Will, did, am.

It's so pretty on the postcard you might forget to pray
For the needles of pain to remind you you're alive,
Though you wonder if the natural numbness
Of lost things, frosting, might not be preferable.
Hollywood lied, you know—
Hell hath no fires, only endless snow.
(Lewis knows.)
I wonder if this is what it's like to grow old.
If it's true, I won't lie-
Truly, I think I'd rather die.

Peppermint grows year round,
And it tastes better in the summer anyway.

Monday, November 29, 2010

The Flood

Thursday night, I was excited about going to bed pretty early. Then, 'why do I hear water flowing? I have no leaky faucets.'

I got up to find my kitchen flooded from above the hood above the stove, water streaming steadily down electrical wires with nothing to be done for it until the morning. I was angry and electrocuted. I mopped it up the best I could manage and hoped it would stop... eventually.

Eventually it did. And I had a great weekend. And I arrived home Monday morning to find my apartment reeking from moisture and a second deluge.

I informed my boss, who told me it was my responsibility to shut off the water. For the apartment above me. When it floods my kitchen. Supposedly, I can access it from the hallway, but considering how little time I spend in my apartment between my 50-hour work-week and weekends in Seoul... wtf? Why is it MY responsibility to shut off my neighbor's water every time my neighbor floods my kitchen?


Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Satin Kisses

I silently slide from sleep,
Roused to find
Moon's satin kisses
Press against my skin,
Softly slip down
Slopes of my thighs,
Caressed in her silver light.
*A gentle sigh*
For I simply wish hers
Were yours.

Monday, November 22, 2010

This is not the poem I set out to write.

Sometimes, some days, these days
I'm scared of dying.
Not of death, but of time lost.
And so I can't let a single moment
Slip by unseen, unfilled, unspent.
And so I cannot rest or cease or stop
For fear that sleep, that peace cannot
Only means a moment fallen short of fulfillment-
A sleepy Sunday saved for naught.
(Someones oft said, "I'll sleep when I'm dead.")
And so I run and go and do
And plot and plan and spend...
So I can safely say,
"I'm happy,"
(Or so busy I think I am, must be)
If this should ever be the end.
And some may say,
"She lived it to the full."
Carpe diem,
Or so they say.
(But this soul's not as young as it once was.)
"Seize the day."
What a way
To die.

Fall Lantern Festival

At the Cheonggyecheon in Seoul Nov. 5 to 14.

Friday, November 19, 2010


Rockabilly band in Korea- best show I've ever seen. If you haven't seen them yet, do it!

Burlesque Show

Frills and Thrills Burlesque Revue Friday, Nov. 12 at DGBD in Hongdae

"Looks like an angel..."

"But she's a devil in disguise!"

" cat class and got cat style."

I clean up well in PS

I had no idea when I went to have a passport photo taken for a visa today that the standard practice in Korea is to airbrush the hell out of the prints. Now I have a batch of model-worthy headshots in 35x45mm prints and nothing fun to do with them.
Freakish, 네? 

Friday, November 12, 2010

Fall poem

Fall sees a blaze of trees' flaming leaves.
Phoenix feathers flying, falling,
Shooting sparks.
Can you smell the hot wood smoke?

Liquid light pours forth, behind, and through,
Illuminating new hues in every color of warmth and spice,
Fooling my eyes against the air's iced knives...
Like discovering shimmering gold in my world
Which had been only sepia of old.
Shades of sparkling amber,
Warm whiskey fire for my soul.

And I can't forget; recall now
Carmine, crimson, blood red ruby tones
Of passion, too, dotting through, marking the view
Like needle-pricked fingers
Pressed to pursed lips,
Breath drawn in—
Sharp hiss.

And then
Piping, glowing magma, smooth, viscous
Rhubarb pie filling me, my world, too.
A cabernet bitter and dry and true
Lingers on my tongue.
Gifts of the sun and summer gone
I taste my lips and remember you
Liked the kiss of wine on mine,
That's why they call it autumn.

Sunday, November 7, 2010


Costume #1: A witch for the school Halloween party

Costume #2: Belly dancer for Halloween 10k race

Costume #3: Steampunk girl (aka "Look, I have Boobs!)

The green (wo)man was my escort home.

That's me!

Costume #4: Bollywood-ish for a Halloween Hash

Friday, November 5, 2010

What do you think?

Custom Keirsey Temperament Report for: moniqa

Your Keirsey Temperament Sorter Results indicates that your personality type is that of the

Artisans are the temperament with a natural ability to excel in any of the arts, not only the fine arts such as painting and sculpting, or the performing arts such as music, theater, and dance, but also the athletic, military, political, mechanical, and industrial arts, as well as the "art of the deal" in business.

Artisans are most at home in the real world of solid objects that can be made and manipulated, and of real-life events that can be experienced in the here and now. Artisans have exceptionally keen senses, and love working with their hands. They seem right at home with tools, instruments, and vehicles of all kinds, and their actions are usually aimed at getting them where they want to go, and as quickly as possible. Thus Artisans will strike off boldly down roads that others might consider risky or impossible, doing whatever it takes, rules or no rules, to accomplish their goals. This devil-may-care attitude also gives the Artisans a winning way with people, and they are often irresistibly charming with family, friends, and co-workers.

Artisans want to be where the action is; they seek out adventure and show a constant hunger for pleasure and stimulation. They believe that variety is the spice of life, and that doing things that aren't fun or exciting is a waste of time. Artisans are impulsive, adaptable, competitive, and believe the next throw of the dice will be the lucky one. They can also be generous to a fault, always ready to share with their friends from the bounty of life. Above all, Artisans need to be free to do what they wish, when they wish. They resist being tied or bound or confined or obligated; they would rather not wait, or save, or store, or live for tomorrow. In the Artisan view, today must be enjoyed, for tomorrow may never come.

There are many Artisans, perhaps 30 to 35 percent of the population, which is good, because they create much of the beauty, grace, fun, and excitement the rest of us enjoy in life.

Artisans at Work
Artisans seek to make an impact upon the organizations where they work and upon society at large. Their alertness to current realities, the joy they take in variation, and their tendency to follow their instincts to 'what works' make them good troubleshooters and negotiators, talented performers and craftspeople and excellent leaders in all kinds of emergencies and chaotic situations.

In the workworld, it is often the "mechanics" of things draws your interest and attention. You have an uncanny ability to manipulate the world of objects around you, especially with your hands and body. Your master of the tools of your trade allows you to do things other people find risky or difficult. Although you appreciate a sense of order, you have little tolerance for routine. Artisans like you tend to break out of the arbitrary confines of some workplaces impulsively.

Friday, October 22, 2010


On Monday my two first graders decided they didn't want to play by the rules and would gang up on me in Scrabble. OK. To keep things fair, I gave them free pick of all the tiles, I went first, played by the rules myself, and only used words they know. Then I got 74 points on "FREEZE" with a triple letter score on Z and a double word score. They played a good game, though, effectively using as many points modifiers as possible. It was much more fun than any of my other classes which can't seem to get beyond two- and three-letter words.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

What a week...

On Monday one of my 4-year-olds punched me in the eye.
On Tuesday I dropped her on her head.
On Wednesday her classmate hit her with the door, leaving a neat, red goose-egg on her temple.
Yesterday one of my pre-k students, a disrespectful little pill, tried to high-five my hand hard enough to hurt me but pulled his own hand back with his mouth in a shocked "O" expression, having only managed to hurt himself. Because I'm bigger and tougher, and I maintain that I am Superman for that class.
I can't wait to see what today brings.

Inspired by a friend with a broken leg, I committed myself to running every weekday this month. But for the first Friday, I've been doing it. It hurts, but I am awesome. :0)

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

38th // Hash

Over the Chuseok vacation, we hashed up by the 38th parallel. It was shiggy (meaning off a paved trail) good times.

Pre-gaming on the subway ride to Uijeongbu. There were cups available, but where's the fun in that?

Thigh-deep in the middle.

On under...

Heading to North Korea

Paintball, anyone?

Well on my way to blitzed on my way to the after party.

Stripping before jumping in the public fountain.

And the shenanigans escalated from there. I can't even believe I made it home. Thank God Korea is a such a safe place for an attractive, inebriated young woman to wander home alone after midnight and get lost twice along the way. I won't be repeating THAT anytime soon.