Reactions

My, my, my.  I have to say, I'm kind of amazed at how few people, if any, got the gist of what's going on in the story.  There are some basic themes of God's sovereignty, love, sin, and repentance revolving around a guy who has bad theology and health problems (the bump was NOT an analogy or a metaphor.  In the story it functions as a real freaking bump).  Man, I never thought I was your stereotypical artist who feels like no one understands them, but I sure as heck feel like one now.  I guess that's validation, in a way.  All the great ones were ahead of their time.  By the way, I'm ashamed to know most of you now.  Also, some of your comments were fairly discouraging.  Y'all need to watch that.

You'll be happy to know that I will CONTINUE writing these series of short stories, cuz someone, somewhere out there is getting it.  I hope.  And besides, I figured out some time ago that this is what God made me for.  I exist to provide a different view.  All for the edification and the sharpening of the body.  My next story is going to be a romantic one, inspired by mystic1's torrid love affair.  And if you don't like it, you don't have to read it...

The Thundering Climax

The Bump - Part 5 of 5

Ed

Does anyone watch Ed?  Generally, I don't watch TV cuz it's the devil, but I keep up with Ed from time to time, mostly cuz Julie Bowen is hot, but also because it's a great little male fantasy.  Ed's an average looking guy, walks around all day in flannel shirts and jeans looking like he's just rolled out of bed and hangs out with this gorgeous chick who we know he's going to get in the end.  The central tension of the story is this whole dynamic between Ed and Carol and Ed pursuing her and her saying no.  But they're the best of friends, blah, blah, blah...  Anyway, this has been going on for three years, definitely one year too long, cuz it's kinda getting old, but I just watched a re-run of last season's final episode yesterday, and I really didn't like how they finally get together.  Ed's sort of dating this new girl (certainly not the first time this is happening) and Carol, in a moment of epiphany, just decides, "I want Ed." 

Now, the female mind is, of course, an unspeakable labyrinth to me, but it just struck me as highly implausible.  One day, the girl wakes up and decides she likes the guy who's been after her for three years?  Does that ever happen?  On top of that, after she tells Ed that she wants him now, he goes into this deep funk, trying to decide whether or not to take her or the mousy looking girl they chose to be his other love interest.  Yeah, right.  Big decision there.  They've been advertising also for next week's season premiere, and you know how they do it?  NBC says, "Be here next week to witness the first night of the rest of their lives..." while showing Ed and Carol making out on the couch.  Nice.  Tune in next week to watch Ed and Carol finally have sex.  Excuse the tangent, but there is SO much sex on TV.  A great doctoral dissertation for some sociologist might be to chart the gradual evolution of the kind of humor in "Friends" from season 1 to now.  The first season of Friends was light, not-that-funny, and much less explicit in its jokes.  Now, fuhgedddaboutit...  SNL has undergone a similar change I think.  I can't watch it anymore.  Ok, enough of the tangent.  So, uhh, my point is...  I don't know if I'm going to watch Ed next week...  but I probably will...

The Bump - Part 4 of 5

       It was a lot of money to lose, and after the initial shock and regret passed away, Daniel concluded that his mistake lay in putting too much in the first time, and the following night, added $500 to his account and took up the fight again.  He felt it would be cowardly to admit defeat so soon and of course, he wanted to get his money back.  And he continued to play.  At his Bible study group, he refrained from sharing about his little hobby because he didn’t quite know how to explain it.  Certainly, losing a thousand dollars or two was not a good thing on any level, but he didn’t feel that playing was adversely affecting any of his relationships or work.  He didn’t play during the day at his office, although he tried once.  Besides, his group’s prayer topics tended to focus on people’s careers or health issues, and Daniel didn’t want to rock the boat.  He did tell them about his bump, however, since it fell into one of the acceptable prayer categories.  The sore was really beginning to worry him.  A week had passed since it opened up the first time, and he was no closer to understanding its origins.  It would flare up and be very painful for a day or two, and then just as quickly die down.  He had called and made an appointment with his doctor, but she was on vacation, and he wouldn’t be able to see her for another two weeks.  He had tried to vary his diet, to see if the sore was an allergic reaction of some sort, and had started taking melatonin to help him sleep better in case it was a reaction to fatigue.  He had never had any kind of skin condition like this and occasionally the thought would grab him that it was a tumor in the beginning stages.  Daniel left Bible study feeling somewhat more hopeful about his bump, and went home to his computer.  He played until he was up $100 and then quit for the night.  The next morning, he was still trying to figure out what new habits he might have picked up in the last few weeks, and the only thing he could think of was... poker.  But the timing wasn’t quite right because he knew the sore had appeared even before he had played a single hand.  Still, all through the day he was haunted by a single thought.  What if the sore was some kind of punishment from God for his newly acquired gambling habit?  Did God even do things like that?  The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.  If God wanted him to stop gambling, couldn’t he come up with a better way of letting him know?  It seemed entirely unfair to turn his body against him just to make a point.  For the next few nights, Daniel tested this theory by playing poker and simultaneously watching his sore to see if it would suddenly flare up.  The results were inconclusive.

Party Pooped

EDIT:  Oh, hell.  Someone reviewed my party.  For review and pics, check out NYJujubee...

EDIT2:  Another post sort of about my party.  Check out chooster...

EDIT3:  More dang pictures...

So I had my birthday party Saturday night.  Some random observations:

1.  It was hot.  The AC was going but not too well, and it was a particularly muggy night, so later we opened the windows, but people were still standing around fanning themselves with paper plates.  It was funny watching them trying to be all cool and fan themselves at the same time.

2.  Nobody brought a single board game even though I specifically asked for them.  I guess they thought I was kidding.

3.  When making hors d'oeuvres, the choice of cracker is very important.  I made these wonderful stupid little smoked salmon and cream cheese thingies and they were ruined because the melba toast I put them on was kinda stale.

4.  People really like drinking Corona.  Either that or it must be really cheap.  Most of the people who brought beer brought Corona.  I always thought it was more of a girl beer, but that's just me.

5.  I don't think I like using E-vite.  It's a great tool, but half my friends are lazy, irresponsible buttheads, and it just gets wasted on them.  I had a heck of a time getting people to respond first of all, to get an accurate headcount.  Then at least 25 percent of those who replied "Yes" on my E-vite didn't even show up.  I know things happen, but they could have at least called.

Does it sound like I didn't enjoy my party?  I think I did, but I'm not sure.  I met some new people, and everyone seemed to have a good time so I'm happy about that.  But it was a lot of stress and work, and the one person I really wanted to see didn't even come.  *sigh*

The Bump - Part 3 of 5

       It appeared at first glance to be an insect bite or pimple of some kind.  It was about the size of a nickel, red, hard, and occasionally sensitive to the touch.  He tried squeezing it to see if it would pop, but it defied the pressure and stubbornly maintained its shape.  He put calamine lotion on it and left it alone.  On Sunday, he went to church as usual.  During praise and worship time, he closed his eyes and simply listened to the music and singing.  The praise leader led the congregation in a time of prayer, and Daniel stayed silent for most of it, but managed to whisper, "Bear with me, Lord…" before opening his eyes.  He recited the Apostle’s Creed from memory.  There were new people at church that day, and as they were introduced, he took a mental note of who they were.  As the congregation filed into the fellowship hall, he would periodically look for the newcomers, to see if anyone talked to them.  Finding his own friends, he laughed and caught up with them about work, the latest movies, and fantasy football.  He felt a pricking sensation on his arm, and saw the dark stain of some fluid on his shirt sleeve in the area of the bump.  He went home soon thereafter.  Changing out of his clothes, he saw that the bump had opened up and dark yellow pus had seeped out.  The inside of the wound was a grayish white with some flecks of red.  He put a band-aid on it and turned on the T.V.  It was Sunday after all, and he refused to play the game or even turn on his computer on during the Sabbath.  So he watched football, and later on, whatever was on WB.  The next night, he got back online and looked for rooms to play.  All the poker players on the site had colorful nicknames like BluffEnuff, PennyAnte, CrazyHorse.  When choosing his own nickname, Daniel had wanted something that sounded lucky but dangerous and came up with Fool’sGold.  He was stalking a certain player named Doppelganger, because he noticed that this player was reckless and tended to chat about his hometown whenever he had a good hand.  He found him and played at his table for two hours until he believed he had him cornered.  He went all in with a full house.  Doppelganger had a straight flush.  Daniel lost $2,000, the entire sum of his initial investment.  The sore on his arm began to throb.

College

This morning as I was riding the bus, I flipped through my college alumni magazine.  My 10-year reunion was this past June and it had pictures of the different classes, and I recognized some people from my class.  I didn't go, and for a minute I regretted not going, and then I thought, oh right, college sucked, that's why I didn't go.  My time at Vassar were, without a doubt, 3 1/2 of the worst years of my life (the last semester is excluded cuz I partied a lot).  Much pain and turmoil. 

The main problem was I never really found a good group of friends to hang out with.  It's pretty strange.  I have never had difficulty making friends, but for some reason, at that point and time, it was just hard.  Plus, I was sort of a different person back then.  Freshman year, when I got together with my RA and the rest of my little freshman group for the first time, we started introducing ourselves.  There were about 12 of us, guys and girls.  None of us knew each other and we were supposed to say our name and anything we wanted about ourselves.  When it was my turn you know what came out?  "My name is Hooju and I'm a born-again Christian, and I don't drink, smoke, or have sex."  Silence.  Hahahah.  I was pretty hardcore back then.  Now...  ok, anyways, besides the friends thing, I never found a church I really liked, flirted with a different heresy each year (mystic, you remember that, huh?), tried to transfer, got rejected, went through a year-long depression after reading too much about human cruelty (I was an Africana Studies minor), and finally, finally graduated.  But I am seriously a different person now because of the experience.  If I had gone to a larger school with a substantial Korean-Christian population, I would have just hung out with them the whole time and I would be much less interesting now.  It was also good in the sense that a lot of people look back on their college years and see it as the "best years of their lives."  Not for me.  The best is always yet to come.  Always.

The Bump - Part 2 of 5

       It came then as a surprise, even to him, how quickly he became attached to that game.  A harmless invitation to Saturday poker night with the church guys became a benchmark, something by which future time would be measured.  He didn’t play very well that first night, having little experience with gambling, and lost $30.  But it had awoken a curiosity within him.  Even an amateur like himself could sense that there was some wisdom about the game.  Perhaps it was the math that drew him.  He had hated mathematics as a teenager, but only because he couldn’t master it, and its truths remained ever so slightly beyond his reach.  After reading some books on poker, he decided he needed to practice.  He found a haven, a communal place with people of common interest at www.pokeristhedevil.com.  The game was Texas Hold’Em, and he learned it well, winning and losing thousands of imitation dollars, playing with faceless personalities who seemed more interested in chatting than winning.  At one point, it occurred to him that this entertainment was becoming something of an obsession, and that God may not look too kindly upon it.  But he quickly shuttled those thoughts out of his mind.  In his prayers, he found himself grasping for words, and frustrated by the long pauses that seemed to follow each sentence, eventually stopped trying.  But he was beginning to win online much more often than he lost.  In fact, he was very happy with his progress, except for one thing; though he had good success on the computer with electronic money, he still kept losing at his live poker game on Saturday nights.  He surmised that he played differently with fake money, and concluded that the only way for him to get significantly better was to play with the real thing.  The next night, in front of the computer, he took out his credit card.  The game instantly became something else.  Daniel could hardly wait for the night, to come home, turn off all the lights, and be greeted by his computer’s flickering screen and cheerful hum.  Though he lived by himself, he closed the door to his bedroom and pulled down the shades of his windows.  He felt the blackness surge up and embrace him with tenderness, supporting him on all sides.  As his monitor switched on and began to glow, his body would twitch involuntarily and then become calm.  And he would play.  Now using actual money, he was tentative and hesitant, and lost quite frequently.  But then he won, and won again, and his confidence began coming back.  A week had passed by before he noticed the bump on his arm again and casually examined it for the first time.

September

Ok, I'm back from my sabbatical.  I'm back because all things begin anew in September.  So many things happen this month.  My birthday, my dad starting seminary, football begins, seasons change, I get my stinkin' car back hopefully...  I could go on.  September is the time to start over, get in shape, get a life, get back on track.  All things are possible once again...

I've come up with something different for the next few xangas.  I wrote a little story last week, and in addition to my usual idiotic banter, I'm gonna post the story in five installments.  Nothing special, but I wrote it, so you might as well read it.  Please note, however, that this story is FICTION, and it is NOT autobiographical.  Don't read that deeply into it!!  Anyway, hope you like it (and if you don't, just humor me dammit)...

The Bump - Part 1

       It began as a small round bump on the soft fleshy underside of his left arm.  Located midway between his bicep and tricep muscle, it was barely noticed at first.  However, he swung his arms freely as he walked, and it wasn’t long before he could feel the tiny sensation with increasing regularity.  In fact, there were other things occupying his mind.  Daniel was watching a lot of television these days.  Reality TV dominated the networks, but he preferred the teen dramas with the good-looking actors and actresses.  It’s not that he fantasized about being in their world or being one of them.  He just found their faces more enjoyable to look at.  It was amazing; even the little children on these shows were adorable.  You could tell that the average looking actors were thrown in just to give the shows some diversity.  He fell asleep easily after watching T.V.  One night of the week, he would attend his Bible study group.  He often had to push himself to go, but by the end of the night, he was always grateful for the chance.  It was therapeutic, comforting, wholesome, and after sharing his prayer request and being prayed for, he relished the feeling that someone understood him, if only for a night.  Daniel had become a believer at the ripe old age of 8, at a youth group retreat sponsored by his church.  He would tell people of the sensation of his heart burning as he considered his sins and that he accepted Christ right then and there at the altar.  In reality, his memories of that night were kind of fuzzy, and he could only recall a vague loss of control.  He had never felt that it was entirely his choice to know God, but was merely going along with something that had already been decided in advance.  His understanding of spiritual matters naturally grew as he continued to attend church, and now at the age of 26, he considered himself a respectable Christian.  He was not a prude.  He enjoyed going out with his friends for a beer, and instead of limiting himself to a set number of drinks, he would spontaneously chant the alphabet backwards or attempt to hop on one foot for 30 seconds straight, so as to make sure he wasn’t completely drunk.  This rigorous self-examination would never fail to elicit howls of laughter from his buddies, but he was undeterred and secretly felt that Jesus would honor him one day for the persecution he endured.

The Last Post

I'm going to take a little Xanga sabbatical.  I'll still comment here and there.  My last semi-connected ramblings:

I'm distressed at the thought that we as Christians seek comfort and happiness and try and avoid pain just as everybody else does, and that having a relationship with God is simply our means to that end.  I'm not questioning at all the existence of God, or Christ, or that He died for our sins.  It's the human condition that bothers me.

My close friend's dad is struggling with cancer.  I can't post about any of that because Xanga's a happy place.

I leave you with a quote from one of my favorite books of the Bible, Ecclesiates:

"Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done and what I had toiled to achieve, everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind; nothing was gained under the sun."  Eccl. 2:11

Party Planning

My birthday is coming up and I was thinking of throwing myself a party.  At my age, no one does anything for you, so you have to go out and promote your own birthday.  My last two birthdays, I had a girlfriend who threw me nice parties, but she ripped my heart out and stomped on it many months ago so I can't count on her this year.  Anyway, I was thinking of having a little get-together probably on Friday, Sept. 5th, because my birthday is on the 8th.  I didn't want to have it on Saturday because rosy is having a housewarming that night, plus I didn't want to stay out late and be all groggy for church on Sunday.  Much better to stay out late on Friday and be all groggy on Saturday.  I was envisioning a nice party with bright lights, board games, cake and alcohol.  Have you ever watched a bunch of inebriated folks play Taboo?  Me neither, but I'm sure it must be hilarious.  I was going to hold it at my old office building, where I still do some consulting.  I have keys to the place and they laid off practically everybody, so it's more or less an abandoned space. 

So I start talking to my friends about my plans and everybody's got a different idea.  One guy tells me I should have it on the Sunday night of Labor Day weekend, another tells me I should just have it at a bar somewhere, and a third guy tells me I should have it on a Saturday night at some dude's apartment in the city.  I'm listening to all these suggestions, and I'm thinking, hmm...  what's going on here?  Everybody's got their own agenda...  I can see their little minds working to figure out how best to enjoy my party.  In fact, it's not really my party anymore.  It's become this THING that will surely destroy me.  My little party has become a convenient little vehicle for these guys to prey upon my unsuspecting female friends.  Alas, the horror, the shame!  Ok, I don't know where this blog is going... 

After much deliberation and compromise it has been decided that my party is going to be on Saturday, Sept. 13th at 1 Astor Place (Astor Place between Broadway and Lafayette), Apt. 9K at 8:00 PM.  Save the date!  Lurkers welcome (till I see what you look like, anyway).  Bring your own alcohol or non-alcohol and a board game if you have.  No presents!  Please let me know if you're going to come, cuz I have to prepare some little snack thingies.  I'm sending out an e-vite too and if you want to be included on that to see who else is coming, send me your e-mail address.  If you come, please be nice to me...

EDIT:  Have to get rid of the noraebang pic cuz I'm getting tired of looking at me pointing at me...

Xanga: The Great Equalizer

One of the better illusions of xanga is that everyone is equal.  It doesn't matter how old you are, where you're from, what race you are (as long as it's Asian.  Sorry, Eliot...), which sex...  all that matters is your voice and your xanga personality.  We can all come together online and laugh and sing and be one big happy family.  You feel close to people, like you know them and they understand you.  That is, until you meet in real life. 

Yesterday, I had lunch with some xangers in midtown.  Among the invited were slouchingtiger, juliocoolio, chaz_meister, and two girls who we'll call "Buffy" and "Matilda".  Buffy and Matilda's xanga identities will be kept secret cuz I don't want them screaming at me the next time I see them.  Anyway, the other guys couldn't come for one reason or another and so I was stuck at lunch with these two chicks who are 21 and 22 years old, respectively.  I'll be 32 next month.  But I didn't think it was a big deal since we all know each other so well through xanga and all.  This is how conversation went:

"You HAVE to come for the sample sale..."

"Kyu is so wrong.  The national average for engagement rings is $2,000 something and for the northeast it's $5,000 something..."

"I wanna be the ceo of sephora." 

"I heard this as a rumour, but I don't know if it's true - is M.Y. the same age as Pastor Ro?"

"He was an artist with all these tattoos and he had his brother's bloodstains on his wifebeater, and it just seemed so interesting..."

"I wanna be an international art dealer."

"My engagement ring has to be 2 or 3 carats."

"I am so open to meeting people these days.  I met this guy and we exchanged numbers, and then I met this other guy and we exchanged numbers..."

"I hate side stones!  I hate all those weird shapes.  It has to be round." 

"Oh man, I can just see myself being 30 and single..."

Now, there's nothing wrong with this conversation per se.  It's just that I shouldn't have been anywhere near it.  I thought our xanga bond would have easily helped us rise above our very real differences.  Not so.  I have to add that I already knew Buffy and Matilda before xanga, and I shudder to imagine what it would have been like if I didn't know them at all.  Moral of the story: no more outings which involve heavy conversation with females under 25.  Unless they're hot.  That way, I can just stare and nod my head and still have a good time...

EDIT:  Hey, anybody want to cut work tomorrow and go to Great Adventure with me, my bro, sis-in-law and niece??

The Showdown

Wedding #7 – Florentine Gardens, Rivervale, NJ

The skinny:  I knew both the groom and the bride.  In fact, I was integral to their whole hooking up.  They met at a wedding last year and he e-mailed me to get her number.  I had to call her up and ask her if I could give her number out to this dude and she asked me all these questions and I had to vouch for him before she agreed.  Now normally my fee for a successful hook-up is a suit.  Did I get one?  NO.  Did I even get a tie?  NO.  Dang, you'd think after you've helped a person find their soulmate, they'd be a little grateful.  Next time, I'm getting my commission up front...

Anyways, I digress.  The real story of this wedding was that there was a pretty good chance I'd see my ex-fiancee there.  I hadn't really seen her since she dumped me last Halloween after buying me pizza.  For some reason, I don't eat much pizza anymore.  I had tried to call her a few times but she never returned my calls, so I was curious as to how it would be meeting her again.  Things didn't start so well.  For one, I missed the wedding.  I only saw the 6:30 PM reception time and not the 4:00 PM ceremony time on the invite.  Oh, well.  At the reception I ran into her almost as soon as I stepped into the room, and we exchanged quick hellos.  When I saw her, I felt an immediate adrenaline rush like I was facing some large carniverous animal that wanted to rip me up into little shreds and I had to kill it or be killed.  Well, maybe it wasn't exactly like that, but I was wired for the rest of the night.

The next few hours I debated whether or not I should ask her to take a walk in the garden, where I could strangl... I mean, talk to her.  On the one hand, she ignored my calls a few months ago.  On the other hand, at some point we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together and to now not even be on speaking terms seemed a grave injustice.  If I never saw her again after this night, I couldn't bear to have my last memory of us be awkwardly avoiding each other at what might have been our wedding.  So I'm in all this emotional turmoil, and NYJujubee, who was a bridesmaid, was trying to get people dance and she kept getting on my case to get out there and boogie.  But there was no way I was going to boogie with my ex sitting there.  My ex, for some reason, did not share my inhibition, and proceeded to dance all night.  Women are the devil.  Later on, I eventually did ask her to go outside, and we had a very cordial talk and caught up on our jobs, churches and family.  Then we said goodbye, and that was it.  It was closure.  In the immortal words of the eighties group, Roxette:

"It must have been love, but it's over now...  It must have been good, but I lost it somehow..."