One Hour

Is 3:30 am and life just threw up its hands in a massive WTF.

Can I have normal for just one year? Where everyone is healthy, in love, not sick or selfish or insane.

One month then. Can I have one month?

Ok fine. One week. I’d settle for one week.

An hour. An hour where I’m in love and they’re in love and it’s beautiful so the scales of insanity fall from the walls of reality and transparency is the sky and the ground. The needing outstretched claws of the world can’t touch me. One hour.

One hour where Bipolar disease and addiction do not touch anyone I know or love. One hour of pure existence without the metaphorical scar tissue I’ve built up around myself to protect me from the brutal disregard that comes from loving sick people. One hour.
I’ll obviously delete this as soon as I realize what a weak bitch it makes me look like. No time for weakness. Nor fear. Nor indecision. Just action. My daughter needs me. So I shall put my love and my need and my feelings in my pocket, dust myself off, and go get her, at 3:44 in the morning, because that’s what parents of bipolar women do. Year after year after fucking year.

Who could love this

How dare I even long for love

I’m tired.

So fucking tired

But I’d make time

For that one hour



I feel a blaze of glory coming on

I HATE the quiet.

I’ve been celibate for over a year now because my pussy is the only thing I have control over.

I have a tinder profile. I match with dozens of men in every city I travel through. I get super likes as I’m speeding down the expressway thousands of miles from anything that resembles home. Dozens of cocks  waiting to enter me and leave.

I swipe right just so they see we matched but they still can’t have it

It feels good to be wanted

It feels horrific to be wanted

I just want to be loved.

I don’t want to be the other woman

The fantasy

The side piece

I want to be the wife they can’t bring themselves to leave

I thought if I stopped fucking them one would fall in love with me for who I am

I fucking HATE the quiet



Diet Epic Fails don’t mean complete failure

Yesterday morning I woke up with the ‘My Diet Coach’ app reminder on my phone that I want to loose 90 pounds so that I may extend my life. It’s a cute little app. I appreciate the daily morning reminders so I can get my day started off right. I actually like seeing I will die sooner if I dont eat right today.

After taking my daughter to school yesterday I came back to the house I am dog sitting at and looked through the cabinet.  I was very hungry and my teenager had plowed through what little of OUR food I brought with us. I decided on a peanut butter sandwich. In the middle of eating this white bread and grape jelly no no I remembered I am on a diet. I chose to finish the sandwich with numerous bullshit excuses of why I should. It would be funny if it were not so funny.

I did very well with the rest of the day, drank water and herbal tea, had an apple for lunch and tried to not eat anything else because it was all pre-packaged off limits type things. I knew I’d make a kick ass dinner when I finally got home…and that’s exactly what I did.

I abhor cooking where I live, for reasons I mentioned yesterday. I have no choice right now so despite complaints from room mates about the smell of my food (they dont eat meat or seafood) and someone coming and turning on the fan in the kitchen to get rid of the supposed reeking smell,  I finished with an incredible dinner of Japchae and sides of garlic and green onion Baby Bok Choy and Kimchi .

I will be moving as soon as I possibly can find a suitable place for my daughter and me. When we move I will try my best to go to a place where there are no other people to share a house with. I understand the smell of Korean food can be off-putting if someone is not used to it. I also know that with my fermenting this or that, it’s always going to be an issue unless I got an Asian room mate. That’s not likely in this area, so it may be a while before we can go.

I greatly look forward to the day I have my own kitchen again. I actually like my room mates pretty well. We all get along and the home is purposefully decorated Retro Glam which is adorable. I have a very strong independent and dominant side of me so when someone changes out lids on my pots while I am cooking or moves my kitchenware from one cabinet to another because it didnt “belong” there or throws away my wilting produce because it was ‘going bad’ I have a hard time holding in my temper.

So far I have managed mostly because I have a teenage daughter in High School and I cant traipse about here and there right now.

Gotta get my own kitchen, man. LOL

This morning when I got home from taking my daughter to school I peeled and cubed a Kobocha Squash, soaked some sweet rice for an hour then pureed it and made Hobakjuk. What a smooth nutty delicious breakfast! I hope my daughter likes it, I will offer her some when she gets  home from school but for the most part, so far, she hates all Asian food unless it arrives in a white Chinese Takeout box. I should fool her sometime and pack my food in it and say I had it delivered! My sons love my cooking. My daughter, on the otherhand, had a sweet tooth and a carb habbit she’s developed. I tell myself you can lead a horse to a trough of Hobakjuk, but you cant make him slurp. Ha. Bad joke.

A Fat Girls Procrastination

I have had a continuous weight gain over the past two years. Once I stopped making as much money I stopped eating as healthy. When I moved in with others I seemed to cook less because I don’t like to go downstairs when other people are there. I’ve always been a loner and it grows worse as I get older. I binge eat when I am stuffing down feelings and thoughts I’d rather not have. Unhealthy packaged foods are unfortunately the thing I reach for when I self sabotage this way. I stopped dating about a year ago because I don’t want anyone to see me naked. The food was more comforting than other people’s presence. Sad truth. It’s a truth I am just realizing.

I’ve told myself that I don’t care what I look like. I have told myself that I am 45 years old now and that I’ve had such a full life, I seriously could never date or love again and still say I lead a fuller life than most. I say these things to myself while eating a bowl of ice cream with maple syrup on it, staring into the TV watching my latest K Drama.

I fell a few weeks ago. I landed hard on my knees and I am having a hard time recovering. I am so heavy my knees are screaming at me to do something about my weight. I realize I cant breathe as well either. I decided to try to weigh myself somewhere and was pretty horrified to see how heavy I’d gotten. I knew it felt like I was huge, my clothes were bigger, but I wasn’t even aware I’d gotten so massive. Have I been depressed? Have I just been apathetic? Why did I stop caring?

I hate pain so it’s time to do something about it.  I seriously detest where I live and the kitchen and fridge where I live, I NEVER cook at home.  It sounds like a crazy reason to move, but I’ve moved for reasons less than this.

I look through the classifieds for a job so I can make more money in order to move. Because of the condition I am in and the choices I have made in my life I am not qualified for anything but what I do already, and that is dog grooming. My fingers have grown so fat and my joints so achy I am not as good at that anymore.

I have put all these things on the back burner month after month as I eat junk food and watch my dramas. I have woken out of my daze to find myself a few hundred dollars negative in the bank, my car insurance canceled, living in a place that I left once already because I dont feel comfortable there, and fat as FUCK.

I’m up to 250 lbs and in a 20 jeans. It hurts to sit down and it hurts to get up. I’ve procrastinated long enough. Seriously. I am doing something about this. Because I only have one shelf on a fridge and one shelf in a cabinet it is hard for me to have fresh food daily, but I am going to have to make some serious adjustments.

Come with me on my journey to reclaim my health through one of my favorite things to do, one of the things I have left behind in my apathetic haze….cooking.

I am hoping that if I post a daily or every other day I will have someone or something other than myself to be accountable for.

Even now, I could care less if I ever found love or ever went on another date for as long as I live. But I’ll be damned if I will groan and heave for breath going up 10 steps at 45 years old. At this rate I’ll be in a wheel chair in a few years. I don’t know what’s been wrong with me, but it’s time to put on my big girl pants and throw away the ice cream.



How To Make Korean Plum Wine (Maehwasu / 매실주) — Modern Seoul

Just like making Kimchi every September or traveling home every Chuseok and Korean New Year, making Korean Plum Wine (Maehwasu / 매실주) is a yearly tradition for many of us living in South Korea. The Korean Plum or Maesil season isn’t very long and therefore to enjoy them long term turning them into wine, juice, […]

via How To Make Korean Plum Wine (Maehwasu / 매실주) — Modern Seoul

Guilty Grievers (1998)

It is Springtime

You are four months dead

Our Son is doing better

He misses you

And takes it out on everyone who loves him.

Your mother drinks

To drown the image of your charred body from her memory.

Surely she remembers the years

She taught you so eloquently to hate her

To fear women

Yet need them so desperately to be what she never was.

Surely she blames herself.

It is Springtime

You are four months dead

This was the time of years you like to make love outdoors

You reached and I gave

But it was never enough

It is Springtime

And I have guilt of my own

I miss you, my Love


Villa of Headstones

Oh the silence the Dead speak!

This Villa of headstones

Weeps dust back into the Earth

The empty grave plots we save for

To fill up with our withering selves

Are as patient and still

As the death that will claim us.

Marble angels

Frozen in preflight

Have comforting smiles for the guilty griever

If you listen quietly

You can almost hear their Funeral Hymn

Of Beauty and Decay.



From my journal Villa of Headstones @1998


Ok. I’m in LA.

Today was my first flight ever.

I love driving long distances, but I have to agree with what everyone has told me…why drive when you can fly.  It was completely comfortable, far better than being a passenger in a car. I wasn’t afraid not did I get air sick even once. I slept half the flight. The pilot was funny as hell. He told everyone that his passing words to us are the same as his father said to him when he turned 18… ‘Get out’

The airport….groan. Just an observation here, but LAX is filthy compared to Atlanta Hartsfield airport. I was expecting….pristine. The floors and seats are filthy. Bathrooms are relatively clean.

I hit the first Starbucks I could find, was delighted to find a coconut milk mocha. That’s not something I’ve ever seen in.Atlanta. Prices the same.

I’m happy to be here. has stared at my head. I felt Melancholy initially, asking myself if I should have done this, as the plane landed. The angel on my shoulder hit me in the head with his golden cane and told me it’s to late now for second guessing my actions.  My only choice is pick up this suitcase and succeed. I didn’t come all this way to struggle. I could have done that in Atlanta.

Finding my way out of this airport was the first step. I’m now waiting on a shuttle bus to drive me the two hours to Bakersfield.

Two things have me worried. I’m afraid I jumped too quick.

I went and looked in the mirror at the person to blame for this. I put her hair in a pretty pink ponytail. I didn’t get this far in life holding back. I go full steam ahead and tackle my problems , generally taking the bull by the horns and making it my Bitch.

We will succeed. Our groom shop will provide us with what we need to live comfortably. I will be able to afford to visit my daughter at least once before she comes home and I will have a loving comfortable place for her to come home to. I will. Because I can.

Motivation self talk over.

Traveling Dolsot


I’ve decided to being 1/2 the pantry with me. My.only.non food item I’m taking is my Dolsot. Because how can I not? I calculated a month of meals in California compared to what I’ll spend to ship these items and decided, screw it. I’m taking it with me. 6lbs soybean paste, 5 lbs pepper flakes, a bottle of fish sauce, 1 lbs dried fish, 2 lbs Chinese noodle 2 lbs sweet potato glass noodle, all my laver, a box of green tea,5 lbs sweet rice, box of black sesame tea, canister of toastedbuckwheat tea….I think that’s it. This is the recipes that were stuck to the fridge. They’ve traveled with me everywhere because they’re old and they’ve seen me develop into the cook I am. I can throw down on some black bean noodles.

I feel much better.