For Christmas this year my little brother got me my very first cookbook: Katie Brown's Weekends, Making the Most of Two Treasured Days. I was totally excited. I am working at my very first post grad school job, and living in my very first solo apartment, with my very first non-family pet so you can imagine how having my very first cookbook to put on my very first bookshelf was quite the momentous occasion. Of course having that job has caused me to have very little time to sit down and flip through the cookbook let alone try out some of the recipes. While Katie may have "Two Treasured Days" each week to whip up the 130 Recipes, Projects, and Ideas included in her bible of domesticity I, on the other hand, am lucky to get one day without work and I'm usually so tired that even the thought of doing more than ordering a pizza and watching Six Feet Under reruns in bed all day with my cat leaves me hiding under the covers.
So, it was with great surprise and pleasure that I sat down last night to actually spend some time in Katie Brown's world, after she's spent more than a month on my bookshelf. The first thing I noticed was that she's from Petoskey, which is cool, as I am also from a small Michigan town. I felt Katie and I were kindred spirits already and I hadn't even hit the table of contents. The book is dedicated to her Uncle Meredith, her "relative soul mate," who she thanks for always being there and understanding her. If I dedicated any sort of book to any uncle of mine it would probably say something a little less poetic like, "Thanks for the booze, it always made Christmas more bearable." But that's neither here nor there.
The book is really beautiful, full to the brim with ideas for charity work, recipes for moroccan food, tips to get organized, ways to appreciate nature, and of course, a decoration guide for the holidays. As I read through it I couldn't help but look up at the plain white walls of my apartment and envision them full of fabric covered embroidery hoops. I could see the perfect place for a refurbished old trunk in which to keep my tissue paper, ribbons, and bows. The fact that I don't have any tissue paper, ribbons, or bows and that I wrapped my office Secret Santa present in a paper grocery bag wasn't important, I would get these things, and when I did I would put them in a refurbished trunk right next to my new fabric covered cork board covered in pads of sticky notes perfect for To Do lists and reminding myself to buy cat food.
As I flipped page after page I got more and more sucked into Katie's world. I wanted buckets full of room specific cleaning supplies, and a map of my neighborhood complete with where the mean dog lives and the house that gives out the best Halloween candy. I didn't care that I live in an apartment complex that doesn't allow dogs, and in a country that doesn't celebrate Halloween, I wanted to make the map and give it to my new neighbors along with a loaf of freshly made cinnamon bread, even though I only have a toaster oven! Katie became the woman I want to be: put together, organized, creative, and totally on top of things. The kind of woman who manages her time so well that she spends Saturday mornings premaking muffin batter and roasting lemon herbed stuffed chickens so she can use them all week, and still has time to go for a nature hike, gather a basketfull of leaves and branches and turn them into an art project. All before she has her friends over for a homemade Moroccan feast where she wraps her silverware in hand beeded napkin rings and covers her table in home made "Golden Starry Table Tiles." Forget Wonder Woman, I want to be Katie Brown!
Then I started looking around my apartment : the unfolded laundry, the dirty dishes, the chair I put on top of a desk so I could reach to change a lightbulb and have left there because my cat has turned it into his thrown. The fish tank that hasn't seen water or fish for 6 months because, though I thoroughly read every article on Goldfish911.com, I just couldn't seem to keep a fish alive for more than a week. My sheets need to be washed. There are bits of acrylic paint stuck to my dining room table from my last attempt at channeling Monet. Clearly I am not Katie Brown material.
The thought stuck with me until it really started to hurt. It seemed that I was just not cut out for domestic goddessness. And then I got to thinking. Who does Katie Brown's dishes after she's done roasting chickens and baking cinnamon bread for her new neighbors? It couldn't possibly be her, how could she do the dishes and have time for a nature hike? And what about laundry? Who is folding Katie Brown's clothes and putting them back into her tissue paper lined drawers? And what kind of woman has time to go to the fabric store to pick out material for a wall art project? She's going to need to go to at least 3 different grocery stores to find all the ingredients for her Moroccan feast. That wouldn't leave much time for cooking the "Cinnamon, Ginger, and Cumin Lamb Stew" let alone hand beading the napkin rings! Either Katie Brown has some major help, or she's LYING!
I want you to know Katie Brown, if you're out there, I am in no way challenging your culinary or creative talents. But by showcasing what you spend your weekends doing, when clearly you have major help during the week to allow for such weekend freedom is just poor form. I mean come on. You're making the rest of us 9-5, pizza orderers who don't live in neighborhoods and come home to a cat feel bad. Maybe your next book could be something more realistic like, "Very Small Projects the Working Woman Can Do On Her Day Off that Won't Break the Bank or Her Back but Will Still Impress the Hell Out of Her Neighborhood (If She Has One)."
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Winter.
Of all the winters I have lived through, I can truthfully say I have only really enjoyed one. I was living in Hawai'i where it never got below 75 degrees, my favorite rooftop bar was featuring half off holiday mojitos, and even Santa wore board shorts. What could be more perfect? Well, believe it or not there are people (strange, senseless, irrational people) who would disagree. These people wait all year to zip up their Carhartt's, gas up their snowmobiles, and hit the trails aided only by their courage and a thermos full of Schnapp's laced hot chocolate. Yes, these people actually exist, and they all live in my home town.
Each year, on the morning of the first snow fall, all the families of the small midwestern town I call home pull their snowmobiles infront of St. Mary's Catholic Church to watch old Father McKenna sprinkle each sparkling Ski-doo with holy water. With gloved hands clasped in prayer and tears in their goggled covered eyes these families not only welcome winter, they celebrate it. I am not from one of those families. My earliest memory of winter is not of snowmen and sleighrides, it's of my dad, wrapped in his bathrobe, running up and down our stairs in an attempt to keep warm while simultaneously cursing God and the furnace repair man.
When I was six years old my mother told me the story of the little girl who decided to lick the ice crystals off the flag pole at school. Her tongue stuck to the metal and she never. talked. again. For the next 4 years I refused to even put ice cubes in my KoolAide. And while my fear of going through life as a mute kept me indoors drinking ice-less beverages during the winter months the rest of my town bravely headed down to the lake to engage in the only winter activity more popular than drunken snowmobiling: ice fishing. Diesl trucks pull ice shanties bigger than my first apartment onto the frozen water so that Carhartt wearing fishermen can sit around a hole, and wait. One winter my dad's friends actually convinced him to take part in this ludicrous activity. Not bothering with a shanty they hauled my brother's row boat down to the lake shore taking with them their fishing poles, a pick axe, and a bottle of scotch. My dad returned four hours later red nosed and fishless to find my mother waiting for him, with our new priest, who she had invited for dinner that night. All I can say is that it's a good thing we're Catholic.
For me winter means getting up early (something I try to avoid at all costs even if it means sleeping in my clothes and stacking nutrigrain bars in my glove compartment) to start my car and scrape the windshield. And, if you are, like me, one of the garage-less there is no way to get around this heinous task. Believe me, I have tried. In college my dread-headed next door neighbor convinced me that you could save at least 5 minutes by skipping the scraping and just throwing hot water on your windshield, so I did. Luckily, I managed to avoid ever cracking the glass. I also managed to successfully freeze myself into my car after using the hot water method to open an ice covered door and then driving the 15 minutes to class in subzero temps.
Perhaps the only redeeming quality about the winter season (besides going on vacation somewhere tropical) is the added exercise. I know what you're thinking, "Exercise? Who would want to head outside in the cold for additional exercise?" Clearly you're not taking into account what attempting to push a car up a steep and ice covered driveway does to your heart rate. How hauling old towels, straw, sawdust, birdseed and hamster bedding (just a few of the many items I've used) outside in an attempt to give your wheels some traction can really build your muscles. And finally the extra calories burned when after a month of pushing, and pulling, and salting you give up and just park your car on the street, where your mailbox used to be before the snow plow came by, and walk.
So here's to winter: To getting rear ended before you've even left the parking lot. To ackward conversations over Aunt Mindy's meatballs at forced family gatherings. To black ice bruises and frost bitten fingers. To seasonal depression and bottles of scotch. To ice covered windshields, straw covered driveways, and the little girl who licked the flag pole. And to everyone who must endure her wrath, the best of luck.
Each year, on the morning of the first snow fall, all the families of the small midwestern town I call home pull their snowmobiles infront of St. Mary's Catholic Church to watch old Father McKenna sprinkle each sparkling Ski-doo with holy water. With gloved hands clasped in prayer and tears in their goggled covered eyes these families not only welcome winter, they celebrate it. I am not from one of those families. My earliest memory of winter is not of snowmen and sleighrides, it's of my dad, wrapped in his bathrobe, running up and down our stairs in an attempt to keep warm while simultaneously cursing God and the furnace repair man.
When I was six years old my mother told me the story of the little girl who decided to lick the ice crystals off the flag pole at school. Her tongue stuck to the metal and she never. talked. again. For the next 4 years I refused to even put ice cubes in my KoolAide. And while my fear of going through life as a mute kept me indoors drinking ice-less beverages during the winter months the rest of my town bravely headed down to the lake to engage in the only winter activity more popular than drunken snowmobiling: ice fishing. Diesl trucks pull ice shanties bigger than my first apartment onto the frozen water so that Carhartt wearing fishermen can sit around a hole, and wait. One winter my dad's friends actually convinced him to take part in this ludicrous activity. Not bothering with a shanty they hauled my brother's row boat down to the lake shore taking with them their fishing poles, a pick axe, and a bottle of scotch. My dad returned four hours later red nosed and fishless to find my mother waiting for him, with our new priest, who she had invited for dinner that night. All I can say is that it's a good thing we're Catholic.
For me winter means getting up early (something I try to avoid at all costs even if it means sleeping in my clothes and stacking nutrigrain bars in my glove compartment) to start my car and scrape the windshield. And, if you are, like me, one of the garage-less there is no way to get around this heinous task. Believe me, I have tried. In college my dread-headed next door neighbor convinced me that you could save at least 5 minutes by skipping the scraping and just throwing hot water on your windshield, so I did. Luckily, I managed to avoid ever cracking the glass. I also managed to successfully freeze myself into my car after using the hot water method to open an ice covered door and then driving the 15 minutes to class in subzero temps.
Perhaps the only redeeming quality about the winter season (besides going on vacation somewhere tropical) is the added exercise. I know what you're thinking, "Exercise? Who would want to head outside in the cold for additional exercise?" Clearly you're not taking into account what attempting to push a car up a steep and ice covered driveway does to your heart rate. How hauling old towels, straw, sawdust, birdseed and hamster bedding (just a few of the many items I've used) outside in an attempt to give your wheels some traction can really build your muscles. And finally the extra calories burned when after a month of pushing, and pulling, and salting you give up and just park your car on the street, where your mailbox used to be before the snow plow came by, and walk.
So here's to winter: To getting rear ended before you've even left the parking lot. To ackward conversations over Aunt Mindy's meatballs at forced family gatherings. To black ice bruises and frost bitten fingers. To seasonal depression and bottles of scotch. To ice covered windshields, straw covered driveways, and the little girl who licked the flag pole. And to everyone who must endure her wrath, the best of luck.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
"No Big Size," - Shopping in South Korea
The tree is up and the lights are twinkling, yes, the holiday season is officially here. My favorite time of the year when a diet of sugar cookies and pumpkin pie, and a wardrobe of slippers and sweat shirts, are not only accepted but encouraged, and the only running I'll be doing is towards a sign that says, "SALE." With our new Holiday Show finally through previews and fully open, and my work with next season's script writers finished I decided it was time to brave the cold and the crowds and take a trip into Seoul to do some much needed shopping. I needed to buy a gift for my boyfriend, as well as my at work Secret Santa, and much more importantly find a new holiday dress for the UNICEF concert I'm performing in this weekend. The other 10 dresses I have just weren't going to cut it (I think any woman who has ever had a special event or a hot new coworker knows what I mean).
Seoul is a shopper's paradise: subway stations, malls, markets, and virtually every street corner north and south of the Han river are filled with sweaters, skirts, leggings, and some of the cutest ballet flats I've ever seen all at ridiculously low prices....and in ridiculously small sizes. I spent my college years a size 16, played in an intramural beer pong league, and considered Old Navy's Plus Size section proof that Jesus loved me. And while 8 show weeks, and my inability to complete 9am dance workshops with a hangover, have helped me lose the beer and 40 pounds my size 9 frame is still too large for Korean clothing. A fact I am reminded with again and again as each trip into a Korean clothing store begins with me pulling a cute dress of the rack and ends with a pint sized sales woman pulling it out of my hands, looking me up and down, and saying, "No big size," while pointing me towards the door.
I know what you're thinking, "Too fat for clothes? Don't worry, girl! Pull on your stretch pants and head to Payless." If only it were that easy. In Seoul, the only thing scarcer than a double digit skirt is a double digit shoe size. Were this the case somewhere else, somewhere where say, moderately expensive shoes are found only in moderately popular shoe stores, this would be unfortunate. In Korea, where a pair of glittering sandals and some fresh mandu will cost you less than $15 bucks and can be found on each and every street corner, it's downright painful. I have tried to convince myself that this is a blessing in disguise. If the shoes fit I would spend all my extra cash on them and then have to pay to ship them home. That worked for about 15 minutes. Water, water everywhere....
So after a Toffee Nut Latte and a quick glance through the "99% real" Louis Vuitton wallets on display by a street vendor I wandered into the first of a block of massive department stores determined to find a dress for my upcoming concert. Miniature clothing be damned there are women in Korea who weigh more than 100 pounds, and though they are elusive creatures, I have seen them..fully clothed..and that gave me hope.
To begin my search I chose a small, boutique-like store on the 3rd floor. I entered carefully, keeping my head down, trying to avoid any eye contact that would cause a saleswoman to offer to help, and then help me right out of the store. Like a navy seal sneaking through the water and onto an enemy beach, I slowly made my first lap around the perimeter determined not to draw attention to myself: no stopping, and definitely no touching the clothes. Cocktail dresses and perfectly ornamented cardigans called to me, oversized knits and colorful blazers beckoned me, their buttons shining in the flourescent light. I thrust my hands deeper into my jacket pockets, and squeezed them into fists until my knuckles turned white and my fingernails made crescent shaped imprints in my palms. I kept moving knowing that even one pause, one hiccup, and I would lose my resolve.
I was nearly three quarters of the way around when I saw it. Hanging between a slim pair of black winter wool shorts and a saffron yellow pea coat was the dress, not a dress, the dress. The black strapless bodice was made of tight vertical pleats which banded just below the bust line in a gloriously tummy-friendly empire waist, while the skirt had amazing diagonal shuttering. And while I'm not usually a fan of sequins (nothing says "showgirl" like sequins) these perfectly placed sparkles said, "holiday party," not, "pole dance." My feet stopped walking, my fists uncurled, my act was over.
There were 3 sizes of the dress hanging and after eyeballing the biggest one I reached for it to look at the tag and determine if I should hope, or give up now. Just as I reached inside the neckline and my fingers curled around the tag, there she was: my pint sized nightmare. In one swift movement she had the dress in her arms, the tag out, and was giving me that all too familiar look I knew could only end in pain and disappointment. "Try on," I asked hopefully, gesturing towards the fitting rooms at the back of the store, "Ok?" She lowered her gaze to my feet and I knew what was coming. As her eyes slowly made her way from my boots to my leggings I made a last ditch attempt at victory. Dropping my purse to the floor I quickly whipped off my jacket, thanking God that I had worn a form fitting top instead of a bulky sweater. "Look!" my mind screamed, "Look! Look how much slimmer I am without my jacket!"
I don't know if it was the look of desperation in my eyes or my tummy control underwear but somehow I had done it. With a nod and a quick, "Ok," she turned and started towards the dressing rooms. I stood there in shock. It had happened, I had finally passed the Korean-saleswoman-eyeball-test-of-shame, I was worthy. And that's when it hit me. If I was going to let this saleswoman decide my worth, I had much bigger problems than fitting into a cocktail dress. I can bench press 60 pounds and hit a high C. I can do my own french manicure and last Friday I successfully made Julia Child's Favorite Roast Chicken..using a toaster oven. I have a wonderful family, great friends, a boyfriend who loves me, and a cat who bites me far less than he used to. I am worthy, and I don't need a pint sized Korean saleswoman to tell me that.
I'd like to say that I swelled up with self pride, told the saleswoman exactly where she could stick that dress, and left the store, but that would be lying. I picked up my stuff and followed her to the dressing room, and while she waited outside the door, tapping her child sized foot, I took my sweet time trying it on, and it fit.
Seoul is a shopper's paradise: subway stations, malls, markets, and virtually every street corner north and south of the Han river are filled with sweaters, skirts, leggings, and some of the cutest ballet flats I've ever seen all at ridiculously low prices....and in ridiculously small sizes. I spent my college years a size 16, played in an intramural beer pong league, and considered Old Navy's Plus Size section proof that Jesus loved me. And while 8 show weeks, and my inability to complete 9am dance workshops with a hangover, have helped me lose the beer and 40 pounds my size 9 frame is still too large for Korean clothing. A fact I am reminded with again and again as each trip into a Korean clothing store begins with me pulling a cute dress of the rack and ends with a pint sized sales woman pulling it out of my hands, looking me up and down, and saying, "No big size," while pointing me towards the door.
I know what you're thinking, "Too fat for clothes? Don't worry, girl! Pull on your stretch pants and head to Payless." If only it were that easy. In Seoul, the only thing scarcer than a double digit skirt is a double digit shoe size. Were this the case somewhere else, somewhere where say, moderately expensive shoes are found only in moderately popular shoe stores, this would be unfortunate. In Korea, where a pair of glittering sandals and some fresh mandu will cost you less than $15 bucks and can be found on each and every street corner, it's downright painful. I have tried to convince myself that this is a blessing in disguise. If the shoes fit I would spend all my extra cash on them and then have to pay to ship them home. That worked for about 15 minutes. Water, water everywhere....
So after a Toffee Nut Latte and a quick glance through the "99% real" Louis Vuitton wallets on display by a street vendor I wandered into the first of a block of massive department stores determined to find a dress for my upcoming concert. Miniature clothing be damned there are women in Korea who weigh more than 100 pounds, and though they are elusive creatures, I have seen them..fully clothed..and that gave me hope.
To begin my search I chose a small, boutique-like store on the 3rd floor. I entered carefully, keeping my head down, trying to avoid any eye contact that would cause a saleswoman to offer to help, and then help me right out of the store. Like a navy seal sneaking through the water and onto an enemy beach, I slowly made my first lap around the perimeter determined not to draw attention to myself: no stopping, and definitely no touching the clothes. Cocktail dresses and perfectly ornamented cardigans called to me, oversized knits and colorful blazers beckoned me, their buttons shining in the flourescent light. I thrust my hands deeper into my jacket pockets, and squeezed them into fists until my knuckles turned white and my fingernails made crescent shaped imprints in my palms. I kept moving knowing that even one pause, one hiccup, and I would lose my resolve.
I was nearly three quarters of the way around when I saw it. Hanging between a slim pair of black winter wool shorts and a saffron yellow pea coat was the dress, not a dress, the dress. The black strapless bodice was made of tight vertical pleats which banded just below the bust line in a gloriously tummy-friendly empire waist, while the skirt had amazing diagonal shuttering. And while I'm not usually a fan of sequins (nothing says "showgirl" like sequins) these perfectly placed sparkles said, "holiday party," not, "pole dance." My feet stopped walking, my fists uncurled, my act was over.
There were 3 sizes of the dress hanging and after eyeballing the biggest one I reached for it to look at the tag and determine if I should hope, or give up now. Just as I reached inside the neckline and my fingers curled around the tag, there she was: my pint sized nightmare. In one swift movement she had the dress in her arms, the tag out, and was giving me that all too familiar look I knew could only end in pain and disappointment. "Try on," I asked hopefully, gesturing towards the fitting rooms at the back of the store, "Ok?" She lowered her gaze to my feet and I knew what was coming. As her eyes slowly made her way from my boots to my leggings I made a last ditch attempt at victory. Dropping my purse to the floor I quickly whipped off my jacket, thanking God that I had worn a form fitting top instead of a bulky sweater. "Look!" my mind screamed, "Look! Look how much slimmer I am without my jacket!"
I don't know if it was the look of desperation in my eyes or my tummy control underwear but somehow I had done it. With a nod and a quick, "Ok," she turned and started towards the dressing rooms. I stood there in shock. It had happened, I had finally passed the Korean-saleswoman-eyeball-test-of-shame, I was worthy. And that's when it hit me. If I was going to let this saleswoman decide my worth, I had much bigger problems than fitting into a cocktail dress. I can bench press 60 pounds and hit a high C. I can do my own french manicure and last Friday I successfully made Julia Child's Favorite Roast Chicken..using a toaster oven. I have a wonderful family, great friends, a boyfriend who loves me, and a cat who bites me far less than he used to. I am worthy, and I don't need a pint sized Korean saleswoman to tell me that.
I'd like to say that I swelled up with self pride, told the saleswoman exactly where she could stick that dress, and left the store, but that would be lying. I picked up my stuff and followed her to the dressing room, and while she waited outside the door, tapping her child sized foot, I took my sweet time trying it on, and it fit.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Africa!!!
My whole life I've wanted to go to Africa and two days ago we booked tickets to go to Kenya for a week long safari!! I am beyond excited!! Originally we were going to use our January vacation to go Vietnam/Cambodia which would be cheaper and very nice but then we started thinking about where we really, really want to go..and a safari was at the top of the list. We're flying to Nairobi on January 3rd at 7:15pm and starting our safari to the Masai Mara, Lake Nahkuru, and Amboseli the next day. As of right now we haven't chosen a safari company, we're still shopping around, but we have some great options! Exciting too is that friends of ours who are from South Africa and leaving EV for home next week may join us. Either way, I'm so excited I can hardly sit down long enough to get the 20 vaccinations needed to go...ok I'm exaggerating just a bit :-).
Planning this trip has really reminded me to be thankful for where I'm at. With the US economy being what it is and so many people out of work I'm living in a place with a steady paycheck where all my bills total less than $150.00 each month. Like I wrote last week Anand and I are still going back and forth on when to leave Korea for the US but with this trip planned we may end up staying through mid June and heading back in time for a wedding of one of Anand's best friends. We'll see.
In other news...I did a show this week for 4 people..in a 600 seat theatre. What made it even better was that half way through the mom left taking her young son with her and the dad fell asleep...so we put on a show for the little girl who was still awake sitting on her dad's lap. Talk about personal service. Talk about a depressing performance.
Well, I guess that's about all I have to report. Headed into Ilsan later to get my hair cut and go out to dinner. :-)
Planning this trip has really reminded me to be thankful for where I'm at. With the US economy being what it is and so many people out of work I'm living in a place with a steady paycheck where all my bills total less than $150.00 each month. Like I wrote last week Anand and I are still going back and forth on when to leave Korea for the US but with this trip planned we may end up staying through mid June and heading back in time for a wedding of one of Anand's best friends. We'll see.
In other news...I did a show this week for 4 people..in a 600 seat theatre. What made it even better was that half way through the mom left taking her young son with her and the dad fell asleep...so we put on a show for the little girl who was still awake sitting on her dad's lap. Talk about personal service. Talk about a depressing performance.
Well, I guess that's about all I have to report. Headed into Ilsan later to get my hair cut and go out to dinner. :-)
Sunday, October 11, 2009
When did it become fall?
If time flies when you're having fun then time sprints Marion Jones style when you have a job contract that ends in less than 4 months and you have to decide what to do with your life. In July when I started my second contract at EV January seemed ages away. I still had to get through 2 months of unbearable heat and humidity..auditions for the fall season..rehearsals for the fall season..and plenty of shows before even thinking about turning on the heater and breaking the scarves and mittens back out let alone thinking about what comes after January. Two days ago I wore socks to bed..and last night I turned on the heater. Shit.
Luckily I'm not in this alone, a fact that I am so grateful for. My boyfriend and our cat are also factored into the decision and whether I decide to stay or go it's really nice to know that I won't have to do either alone. So, while we figure this all out, I'll just keep you up to date on what's been happening in my life, still here at EV.
Today I castrated my cat. I know, it sounds horrible. I much prefer the word, "neuter" to "castrate" however when we went to make the appointment for Billie Jean two weeks ago the vet didn't understand what "neuter" meant...so "castrate" it became. I am pleased to say he is alive and well...when I picked him up he was eager to get into the backpack we use as our "cat bjorn" though less than thrilled to leave his balls behind. Anand wasn't pro castration but it needed to be done. He is getting to the age where he would start peeing on things, plus he can get really aggressive, plus his balls were getting bigger and hairier by the day and I just can't handle that. Anyway, the deed has been done. Sorry about that BJ.
While I was waiting for Billie Jean to have his...procedure..I went to the eye doctor for my final post-op Lasik exam. For those of you who don't know I had Lasik done about 6 weeks ago. It is amazing and totally worth the 15 minutes of terror it took to get through the operation. I haven't been able to see without glasses since I was in 3rd grade. It still catches me by surprise. I am also still surprised by the service of the health care industry here. I didn't have an appointment but got right in (I mean I know I'm a big deal but I've been assured that even less famous..normal..people get in quickly too). It was included in the price of the surgery...$700.00..and I was out and on my way in about 15 min...on my way to the dentist where I also got right in no appointment necessary. I mean come on.
Work wise the park is finally starting to pick back up. The group of moms and their kids who come to our shows every single day and who we lovingly have labeled, "the stalkers"..have returned in full force. My friend Evan was at EV Mart the other day when a stalker mom we hadn't seen in awhile approached him. She told him that they hadn't been to the park in 2 months because of "H1N1" and apologized that she had only seen last season's shows, "5 times." Our current show is called, "The Firebird," in which I play The Firebird..complete with a 5lb tail covered in feathers. I shed constantly and the stalker kids have started rushing the stage during our curtain call to collect the feathers that might drop to the floor during our bows.
I need to interject now to say I had to put the plastic collar the vet gave me on Billie Jean because he started licking his stitches. He is now running around the kitchen beating his head into the walls in an attempt to get it off.
In other news...we started an Outreach Program within our department. I designed and built a puppet show of, "Where the Wild Things Are" and there are other songs, dances, and even a craft or two. We had the official outreach 'pilot' last week at a kindergarten in Geumchon about 15 min away. It went really well and I think the kids really enjoyed it. The best part was that the kids all wore Halloween costumes for the event. And after seeing them I'm pretty sure South Korean stores only sell 5 different costumes: Kungfu Panda, Witch, purple velveteen suit akin to Phantom of the Opera, a pumpkin outfit with orange sequined crop top and green sequined bottom (worn by more boys than girls), and my personal favorite..2 little boys in zebra striped bell bottoms and silver sequined capes..I'm not sure what they were, but they were fabulous. Hopefully the outreach program will become a hit and I can continue my research into the world of the fabulous and flamboyant Halloween costumes of South Korea.
So there's the update. I am going to try to blog every week from now on. We'll see if I can do it. There's not always a lot to report but don't worry I'll just make stuff up.
Luckily I'm not in this alone, a fact that I am so grateful for. My boyfriend and our cat are also factored into the decision and whether I decide to stay or go it's really nice to know that I won't have to do either alone. So, while we figure this all out, I'll just keep you up to date on what's been happening in my life, still here at EV.
Today I castrated my cat. I know, it sounds horrible. I much prefer the word, "neuter" to "castrate" however when we went to make the appointment for Billie Jean two weeks ago the vet didn't understand what "neuter" meant...so "castrate" it became. I am pleased to say he is alive and well...when I picked him up he was eager to get into the backpack we use as our "cat bjorn" though less than thrilled to leave his balls behind. Anand wasn't pro castration but it needed to be done. He is getting to the age where he would start peeing on things, plus he can get really aggressive, plus his balls were getting bigger and hairier by the day and I just can't handle that. Anyway, the deed has been done. Sorry about that BJ.
While I was waiting for Billie Jean to have his...procedure..I went to the eye doctor for my final post-op Lasik exam. For those of you who don't know I had Lasik done about 6 weeks ago. It is amazing and totally worth the 15 minutes of terror it took to get through the operation. I haven't been able to see without glasses since I was in 3rd grade. It still catches me by surprise. I am also still surprised by the service of the health care industry here. I didn't have an appointment but got right in (I mean I know I'm a big deal but I've been assured that even less famous..normal..people get in quickly too). It was included in the price of the surgery...$700.00..and I was out and on my way in about 15 min...on my way to the dentist where I also got right in no appointment necessary. I mean come on.
Work wise the park is finally starting to pick back up. The group of moms and their kids who come to our shows every single day and who we lovingly have labeled, "the stalkers"..have returned in full force. My friend Evan was at EV Mart the other day when a stalker mom we hadn't seen in awhile approached him. She told him that they hadn't been to the park in 2 months because of "H1N1" and apologized that she had only seen last season's shows, "5 times." Our current show is called, "The Firebird," in which I play The Firebird..complete with a 5lb tail covered in feathers. I shed constantly and the stalker kids have started rushing the stage during our curtain call to collect the feathers that might drop to the floor during our bows.
I need to interject now to say I had to put the plastic collar the vet gave me on Billie Jean because he started licking his stitches. He is now running around the kitchen beating his head into the walls in an attempt to get it off.
In other news...we started an Outreach Program within our department. I designed and built a puppet show of, "Where the Wild Things Are" and there are other songs, dances, and even a craft or two. We had the official outreach 'pilot' last week at a kindergarten in Geumchon about 15 min away. It went really well and I think the kids really enjoyed it. The best part was that the kids all wore Halloween costumes for the event. And after seeing them I'm pretty sure South Korean stores only sell 5 different costumes: Kungfu Panda, Witch, purple velveteen suit akin to Phantom of the Opera, a pumpkin outfit with orange sequined crop top and green sequined bottom (worn by more boys than girls), and my personal favorite..2 little boys in zebra striped bell bottoms and silver sequined capes..I'm not sure what they were, but they were fabulous. Hopefully the outreach program will become a hit and I can continue my research into the world of the fabulous and flamboyant Halloween costumes of South Korea.
So there's the update. I am going to try to blog every week from now on. We'll see if I can do it. There's not always a lot to report but don't worry I'll just make stuff up.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
A Post-Swine Flu Fall
About a month ago on a normal Tuesday afternoon I was prepping for a gameshow with my friend and co-worker Candy. We had just taken the tarp off of the game boards and were checking the mics when we noticed the park guides, Korean women who work in City Hall, stopping visitors in the streets, telling them something, and then gesturing towards the exit gate. We didn't think much of it until the visitors started moving faster,hurriedly pulling small children by the hand, one man even picked up his two children and started sprinting towards the exit like a featured extra in an M. Night Shalaman movie. Clearly something was wrong. Candy ran over to one of the guides and came back with the official report: Swine Flu had come to English Village.
We learned that 14 teachers from the drama training program we ran in July had become sick after leaving EV, and 6 were confirmed to have swine flu. The park immediately closed to visitors and all employees were put in voluntary but highly recommended "self isolation" for 10 days with twice daily temperature checks from the board of health. Of course no one cared that having a temperature is not necessarily indicative of having the swine, in fact the one EV teacher that did get infected never ran a temp at all, and several teachers that had all the other symptoms were not tested because they were a perfect 98.6. In their infinite wisdom our administration did not require all employees to get tested, just one of the many great decisions made over those 10 days.
Now, nearly a month later EV has reopened, and is waiting for the public to trickle back in. And I mean trickle. It's very surreal to live in an empty theme park. Our first day open I was assigned "Welcome" Duty, basically to hand out balloons and greet guests as they entered the park and got their temperature taken (something now being done to every EV guest..makes sense I know). The morning's total for balloons handed out was 12. Shows started to get cancelled, classes closed, and finally EV offered up to 15 days of unpaid leave to anyone who wanted it, just to give its employees something to do.
I will say that as our new season opens the crowds are beginning to come back in. No thanks to the South Korean government who advised its people to stay away from "camps, parks, and other public places" for the rest of the year. Funny that EV is a government run institution. I'm quite used to doing a show where there are more people on stage than in the audience...and we only have 4 actors per show..but that usually happens in late December or January when the weather is really and truly awful. The lack of misspelled t-shirts, visors, and Mickey Mouse backpacks is palpable and I haven't heard of a butthole poking attack in weeks. On a more serious note due to budget constraints we are only having 1 mainstage show this winter...1 show..with 4 casts. I just hope this isn't the start of a down hill slide into unemployment.
We learned that 14 teachers from the drama training program we ran in July had become sick after leaving EV, and 6 were confirmed to have swine flu. The park immediately closed to visitors and all employees were put in voluntary but highly recommended "self isolation" for 10 days with twice daily temperature checks from the board of health. Of course no one cared that having a temperature is not necessarily indicative of having the swine, in fact the one EV teacher that did get infected never ran a temp at all, and several teachers that had all the other symptoms were not tested because they were a perfect 98.6. In their infinite wisdom our administration did not require all employees to get tested, just one of the many great decisions made over those 10 days.
Now, nearly a month later EV has reopened, and is waiting for the public to trickle back in. And I mean trickle. It's very surreal to live in an empty theme park. Our first day open I was assigned "Welcome" Duty, basically to hand out balloons and greet guests as they entered the park and got their temperature taken (something now being done to every EV guest..makes sense I know). The morning's total for balloons handed out was 12. Shows started to get cancelled, classes closed, and finally EV offered up to 15 days of unpaid leave to anyone who wanted it, just to give its employees something to do.
I will say that as our new season opens the crowds are beginning to come back in. No thanks to the South Korean government who advised its people to stay away from "camps, parks, and other public places" for the rest of the year. Funny that EV is a government run institution. I'm quite used to doing a show where there are more people on stage than in the audience...and we only have 4 actors per show..but that usually happens in late December or January when the weather is really and truly awful. The lack of misspelled t-shirts, visors, and Mickey Mouse backpacks is palpable and I haven't heard of a butthole poking attack in weeks. On a more serious note due to budget constraints we are only having 1 mainstage show this winter...1 show..with 4 casts. I just hope this isn't the start of a down hill slide into unemployment.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Up and Down the River
When I was home for Brendan's high school graduation I was asked by a former teacher of mine to write an article for the Big Rapids Pioneer on my experience in Korea. Check it out:
I arrived in Seoul, South Korea on July 1, 2008 to the sound of honking taxis, the smell of tempura fried street food, and the sight of a mother holding a plastic water bottle up to her young son so he could pee. I was shocked, but looking back on it now I realize this was only the tip of the iceberg of surprises that the Land of the Morning Calm had in store for me.
I moved to South Korea to be an actor, and before you say, “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, I’ve got to call my wife,” (which, incidentally is what the police officer at the Reed City State Police office said when I went there to get fingerprinted for my visa) let me explain. I work for Gyeonggi English Village, an English speaking theme park opened by the South Korean government in 2006 as an alternative way to teach the English language to its people. English Village, or EV, runs three different programs: a one day program for daily park guests, a one week program focused on school aged kids and adults, and the edutainers. Both the one day and one week programs teach English through fun, conversational classes: cooking, visiting a mock bank, police station, and health clinic, t-shirt making etc… The edutainers are the park’s entertainment department, and it is here that I act, sing, and dance my way through ESL (English second language) based children’s musicals 10 times a week.
It’s not Broadway, but it is an incredible environment where a performer can stretch their skills to all areas of performance and production. All of our shows are completely original. All the scripts are written in our office, all the music is composed and produced in our studio, all of the choreography is created on our stage, and all of the directors come from our department. Working here has allowed me to act, direct, write, and choreograph for shows that run a full 3 month season in our 600 seat concert hall. Creatively, it’s a dream come true. I don’t know of any other environment where such freedom and responsibility are given to a young professional.
Life as a foreigner or “waygook” in South Korea is kind of like being an animal at the zoo: a rare, exciting, endangered animal. People stop me on the streets to take pictures, and kids swarm me in the park asking for autographs. I was once approached on a subway by an elderly Korean gentlemen who sang me the United States’ National Anthem, gave me a piece of fruit, and then kindly asked me to consider marrying his son. It’s a little surreal, but that’s what makes South Korea so great.
English Village is so westernized that if you never stepped out of the park gates you’d never know you were in South Korea, and so I have made it a point to break away from village life and spend some time in the outside world. Seoul is a city of over 10 million people, one of the largest in the world, and thanks to a fantastic metro and bus system it is incredibly easy and cheap to get around in. Shopping is inexpensive, plentiful, and often times very entertaining. South Korea gained its independence in 1948 and in the 61 years since it has grown from a third world nation to one of the leading technological countries on the planet. With so much growth happening so quickly the country lacks its own identity and has taken bits and pieces from many different western cultures as its own. This hodgepodge of anything and everything western is clearly reflected in the style of the South Korean people. T-shirts with English words are a huge seller. It doesn’t matter what they say, it doesn’t matter if they make sense, and it definitely doesn’t matter if they’re appropriate as long as they’re in English. Kids flock to the EV in brightly colored t-shirts displaying all sorts of four letter words. Equally popular is anything and everything Mickey Mouse, oversized visors, and rhinestone jewelry. And I thought the fashions at the Mecosta County Fair were exciting.
Seoul offers much more than shopping. You can see a movie in English at any of a dozen IMAX screens throughout the city. Just be prepared for Korean subtitles and the smell of dried squid, the South Korean movie snack of choice. On every street there are countless food options from Korean bbq (be prepared to sit on the floor) to street food (be prepared to not know what you’re eating) to western restaurants. McDonalds is there with all the regular items plus a shrimp burger value meal, and all the pizzas at Pizza Hut come with corn on them and a side of sweet pickles.
South Korea is a mountainous country, one afternoon I climbed a peak in the middle of Seoul hoping to get some exercise and find a great view. What I found was a community of elderly South Korean shamans living in tents at the top of the mountain. It was almost as if I had been transported back in time, almost. Women were chanting, drums were beating, incense was burning, and off to the side was a wrinkled Korean man dressed in robes and talking animatedly on his cell phone. I couldn’t help but smile at the site as I huffed and puffed to the top of the peak, and I couldn’t help but wonder how these 80 year olds were living up there, or more importantly how they climbed up in the first place. Maybe they’re staying because they can’t get down.
In my year of adventuring around the country I have done many things I never thought I’d do, and seen sights I never knew existed. Some highlights include: The Boryeong Mud Festival, a week long beach party where the city dredges up spa mud from the ocean bottom and party goers slather themselves in it from head to toe before going down a mud slide, wrestling in a mud ring, and climbing a mud wall. If you’re ever in South Korea in the summer I highly recommend going and afterwards hitting the local jimjilbong, or public spa, to clean up. Just be ready to get naked with 100 of your closest new Korean friends. Don’t worry jimjilbongs are same sex only, and once you get used to letting it all hang out it’s incredibly freeing to do so.
From the eastern side of the country rise the jagged peaks of Seoraksan National Park. The views are breathtaking, the beaches are beautiful, and only a 2 hours bus ride away is Haeshingdang Park, known to the locals as Penis Park. Yes, this small coastal park is dedicated entirely to the male genitalia. Legend has it that the small fishing village where the park is located was having trouble reeling in a catch, until a man revealed himself to the ocean and caused the fish to return. Since that day the locals erected (pun intended) statues, totem poles, and even a giant gold cannon all shaped like the penis. South Korean families visit in droves, all eager to sit on the penis benches and pose with the penis warriors. I feel I can safely say, only in South Korea.
I never thought I’d come to South Korea, the country was little more than a blip in a high school history book for me and seemed to be a world away. But after living here for nearly a year, and recently signing on for 7 more months, I can honestly say that it isn’t so far away after all. The terrain is beautiful, the cities are modern, and the people are incredibly kind. I may be on the other side of the world, but it’s starting to feel more and more like home.
Jessica Doyle is the daughter of FSU professors Terry and Julie Doyle. She grew up in Big Rapids and graduated from BRHS in 2002. She earned her BFA in Musical Theatre Performance from Central Michigan University in 2006 and did her graduate work at the University of Hawai’i at Manoa in Theatre for Youth. Jessica has performed and directed in theatres across the country. She currently resides in Paju, South Koea. Check out her blog “Feeling Seoul-ful” at: http://feelingseoul-ful.blogspot.com/
I arrived in Seoul, South Korea on July 1, 2008 to the sound of honking taxis, the smell of tempura fried street food, and the sight of a mother holding a plastic water bottle up to her young son so he could pee. I was shocked, but looking back on it now I realize this was only the tip of the iceberg of surprises that the Land of the Morning Calm had in store for me.
I moved to South Korea to be an actor, and before you say, “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, I’ve got to call my wife,” (which, incidentally is what the police officer at the Reed City State Police office said when I went there to get fingerprinted for my visa) let me explain. I work for Gyeonggi English Village, an English speaking theme park opened by the South Korean government in 2006 as an alternative way to teach the English language to its people. English Village, or EV, runs three different programs: a one day program for daily park guests, a one week program focused on school aged kids and adults, and the edutainers. Both the one day and one week programs teach English through fun, conversational classes: cooking, visiting a mock bank, police station, and health clinic, t-shirt making etc… The edutainers are the park’s entertainment department, and it is here that I act, sing, and dance my way through ESL (English second language) based children’s musicals 10 times a week.
It’s not Broadway, but it is an incredible environment where a performer can stretch their skills to all areas of performance and production. All of our shows are completely original. All the scripts are written in our office, all the music is composed and produced in our studio, all of the choreography is created on our stage, and all of the directors come from our department. Working here has allowed me to act, direct, write, and choreograph for shows that run a full 3 month season in our 600 seat concert hall. Creatively, it’s a dream come true. I don’t know of any other environment where such freedom and responsibility are given to a young professional.
Life as a foreigner or “waygook” in South Korea is kind of like being an animal at the zoo: a rare, exciting, endangered animal. People stop me on the streets to take pictures, and kids swarm me in the park asking for autographs. I was once approached on a subway by an elderly Korean gentlemen who sang me the United States’ National Anthem, gave me a piece of fruit, and then kindly asked me to consider marrying his son. It’s a little surreal, but that’s what makes South Korea so great.
English Village is so westernized that if you never stepped out of the park gates you’d never know you were in South Korea, and so I have made it a point to break away from village life and spend some time in the outside world. Seoul is a city of over 10 million people, one of the largest in the world, and thanks to a fantastic metro and bus system it is incredibly easy and cheap to get around in. Shopping is inexpensive, plentiful, and often times very entertaining. South Korea gained its independence in 1948 and in the 61 years since it has grown from a third world nation to one of the leading technological countries on the planet. With so much growth happening so quickly the country lacks its own identity and has taken bits and pieces from many different western cultures as its own. This hodgepodge of anything and everything western is clearly reflected in the style of the South Korean people. T-shirts with English words are a huge seller. It doesn’t matter what they say, it doesn’t matter if they make sense, and it definitely doesn’t matter if they’re appropriate as long as they’re in English. Kids flock to the EV in brightly colored t-shirts displaying all sorts of four letter words. Equally popular is anything and everything Mickey Mouse, oversized visors, and rhinestone jewelry. And I thought the fashions at the Mecosta County Fair were exciting.
Seoul offers much more than shopping. You can see a movie in English at any of a dozen IMAX screens throughout the city. Just be prepared for Korean subtitles and the smell of dried squid, the South Korean movie snack of choice. On every street there are countless food options from Korean bbq (be prepared to sit on the floor) to street food (be prepared to not know what you’re eating) to western restaurants. McDonalds is there with all the regular items plus a shrimp burger value meal, and all the pizzas at Pizza Hut come with corn on them and a side of sweet pickles.
South Korea is a mountainous country, one afternoon I climbed a peak in the middle of Seoul hoping to get some exercise and find a great view. What I found was a community of elderly South Korean shamans living in tents at the top of the mountain. It was almost as if I had been transported back in time, almost. Women were chanting, drums were beating, incense was burning, and off to the side was a wrinkled Korean man dressed in robes and talking animatedly on his cell phone. I couldn’t help but smile at the site as I huffed and puffed to the top of the peak, and I couldn’t help but wonder how these 80 year olds were living up there, or more importantly how they climbed up in the first place. Maybe they’re staying because they can’t get down.
In my year of adventuring around the country I have done many things I never thought I’d do, and seen sights I never knew existed. Some highlights include: The Boryeong Mud Festival, a week long beach party where the city dredges up spa mud from the ocean bottom and party goers slather themselves in it from head to toe before going down a mud slide, wrestling in a mud ring, and climbing a mud wall. If you’re ever in South Korea in the summer I highly recommend going and afterwards hitting the local jimjilbong, or public spa, to clean up. Just be ready to get naked with 100 of your closest new Korean friends. Don’t worry jimjilbongs are same sex only, and once you get used to letting it all hang out it’s incredibly freeing to do so.
From the eastern side of the country rise the jagged peaks of Seoraksan National Park. The views are breathtaking, the beaches are beautiful, and only a 2 hours bus ride away is Haeshingdang Park, known to the locals as Penis Park. Yes, this small coastal park is dedicated entirely to the male genitalia. Legend has it that the small fishing village where the park is located was having trouble reeling in a catch, until a man revealed himself to the ocean and caused the fish to return. Since that day the locals erected (pun intended) statues, totem poles, and even a giant gold cannon all shaped like the penis. South Korean families visit in droves, all eager to sit on the penis benches and pose with the penis warriors. I feel I can safely say, only in South Korea.
I never thought I’d come to South Korea, the country was little more than a blip in a high school history book for me and seemed to be a world away. But after living here for nearly a year, and recently signing on for 7 more months, I can honestly say that it isn’t so far away after all. The terrain is beautiful, the cities are modern, and the people are incredibly kind. I may be on the other side of the world, but it’s starting to feel more and more like home.
Jessica Doyle is the daughter of FSU professors Terry and Julie Doyle. She grew up in Big Rapids and graduated from BRHS in 2002. She earned her BFA in Musical Theatre Performance from Central Michigan University in 2006 and did her graduate work at the University of Hawai’i at Manoa in Theatre for Youth. Jessica has performed and directed in theatres across the country. She currently resides in Paju, South Koea. Check out her blog “Feeling Seoul-ful” at: http://feelingseoul-ful.blogspot.com/
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
