Habanera from Carmen by Bizet

L'amour est un oiseau rebelle
Que nul ne peut apprivoiser,
Et c'est bien en vain qu'on l'appelle,
S'il lui convient de refuser.
Rien n'y fait, menace ou prière,
L'un parle bien, l'autre se tait:
Et c'est l'autre que je préfère,
Il n'a rien dit mais il me plaît.
L'amour! L'amour! L'amour! L'amour!

L'amour est enfant de Bohème,
Il n'a jamais, jamais connu de loi;
Si tu ne m'aimes pas, je t'aime:
Si je t'aime, prends garde à toi!
Si tu ne m'aimes pas, si tu ne m'aimes pas, je t'aime:
Et si je t'aime, si je t'aime, prends garde à toi!

L'oiseau que tu croyais surprendre
Battit de l'aile et s'envola...
L'amour est loin, tu peux l'attendre;
Tu ne l'attends plus, il est là!
Tout autour de toi, vite, vite,
Il vient, s'en va, puis il revient...
Tu crois le tenir, il t'évite,
Tu crois l'éviter, il te tient.
L'amour! L'amour! L'amour! L'amour!

L'amour est enfant de Bohème,
Il n'a jamais, jamais connu de loi;
Si tu ne m'aimes pas, je t'aime:
Si je t'aime, prends garde à toi!
Si tu ne m'aimes pas, si tu ne m'aimes pas, je t'aime:
Et si je t'aime, si je t'aime, prends garde à toi!

Follow through...

Cursed be the unknown

It was all so much easier when he was merely a fanciful crush, well beyond my reach. Having lived with the knowledge of his existence for so long, (that existence safely out of sight and almost out of mind,) and entirely lacking in reciprocation for many years, I had dismissed any possibility of becoming genuinely enamored of him, or he of me.

But years pass and people change.

One day, I grew breasts and learned that men are but mortal in the face of feminine wile. Or rather, in the face of the promise, empty or not, of glistening bodies and limbs intertwined. And when I met this man again after many moons, he was no exception.

And then I allowed myself to wonder if he might really be as amazing as I had allowed myself to imagine. He was everything that I thought I wanted: smart, witty, handsome, noble, passionate, creative, well-read... And mildly retarded when it came to interacting with the opposite sex in any capacity beyond that of a friend or brother. His egregious inability to communicate his feelings drove me to a multi-month boycott of his attentions, of which he took no notice, as he made no attempts to contact me. And that felt shitty, particularly post-coitum.

And so it was: we had reached a standstill. I was hurt and disappointed; he knew I was hurt and disappointed but didn't know how to respond and subsequently shut me out. The end.

Right?

Fast forward to now, when I've met a man who adores me in spite of me being me. We're just chugging along that well-worn path to--I don't even want to say where. But that's where we're trying to go. Sometimes I see fireworks and butterflies and beautiful laughing children who look a little like him and a little like me. Sometimes I feel as though my heart has been lassoed and the noose is tightening around it. My brow furrows, adding wrinkles to the list of things I worry about.

The man now, he is also smart and witty and handsome. But I worry, prematurely, that perhaps we will not survive the world around us. If it were just us, I think we would be okay. And then I find my thoughts wandering to the man before. There is a little part of me that is hesitant to move forward; it is that part that prevents me from committing myself wholly to the man now.

I am convinced that his perfection (aside from the hurt and the disappointment and the awkward manner with women) can only be a figment of my imagination.

Then why can't I just let go and adore completely the man who adores me so wholeheartedly now?

Follow through...

Birds of a feather

They say birds of a feather flock together, but I never totally bought into it. Yes, I understand that for the most part, it's easiest to get along with people who are more like you than not: you have things in common; you like doing the same things. But I always thought that when it came to something as grandiose and all-powerful as love, there would be no bounds. Romeo and Juliet style. Nothing could come between them. Not friends, nor foe, nor family. Actually, that's a shitty example because all of the above did come between them and resulted in a rather tragic and untimely death for them both. So scratch that.

But I mean, think of the wrong side of the tracks kid and the poor little rich girl schtick. Like in The Notebook. It don't matter where you're from or where you've been, only where you're going (together), right?

Then I took JP's family to a little restaurant I like in Chinatown because it has yummy soup dumplings. Cheap and delicious. My favorite type of place. They didn't really appreciate the soup dumplings and their broth-oozing goodness, and the most popular dish was the fried rice and the General Tso's. This is not to say that the fried rice and General Tso's were not good; I was just sad that they didn't react the way I did when I first discovered soup dumplings. I remember the Chinatown girls took us to try soup dumplings at Moon House and Mando and I nearly peed our pants because our tastebuds were so happy.

I should probably chalk that one up to the fact that not everyone finds as much joy in the simple act of eating as I do. But given the external cues, I feel like the lack of familiarity made it a less enjoyable experience for them. It was reminiscent of trying to eat French food with my mother in Paris. She ate dutifully but without pleasure, and then thanked her lucky stars that she had had the foresight to bring along cup noodles to France lest she starve as a result of their ridiculous culinary peculiarities.

I'm not being fair. JP's family actually did eat, and they weren't picking at the food, or anything. They're way better than my mom is. She was a little brat about it and made no pretense about liking the food.

But it just made me think--and yes, I realize this line of thought is way premature-- that we have very different families. Not because either one is more or less loving, or more or less open. I was just thinking about what a family holiday might look like. Thanksgiving at the H household involves kimchi and galbi (though I did make a pretty decent turkey spread this year, if I do say so myself), while Thanksgiving at the P's probably has all of the cranberry and cornbread trimmings. We like rice cakes, they like layer cakes. Not all that different, but not exactly the same. The biggest disconnect, I think, is that my parents like spending holidays with groups of their friends, and they like to drink whiskey and wine and sing karaoke and play poker. I don't really get that vibe from JP's family.

But this isn't even about his family, specifically, but more about a hypothetical love's non-Korean family. In Korean culture, they say you don't just marry your spouse; you marry his family. I'm not sure I completely buy into that because I think if you love a man enough, you can love his family. And JP's family is very high on the lovability scale. But the Korean part of me wants my parents to be able to hang out with his parents comfortably, without feeling frus...

As I write, I am beginning to realize what a non-issue this is. I have just wasted a lot of time on this post. In the case that I fall in love with a man from a different culture, as long as both of our families are fantastic (which I'm sure they will be), they'll do fine getting along for our sakes, and I'm sure they'll recognize good people when they meet them. They don't have to be best friends or spend all their holidays together. And my family isn't really into holidays, anyway. They're just into family.

I can't say this post was a total waste, though, because it helped me realize that if I love a man enough and he loves me back, we will make it work. And if that man is JP, well, at least his dad and my dad can talk audionerd stuff.

Follow through...

Nerve wracking

So when is it acceptable to meet the parents? Because I'm not sure I'm so good at this girlfriend thing. Tongue-tied, slightly sweaty, trying to be clever and charming without looking like as though I'm trying too hard... it was all very difficult.

I adore JP, but I adore him even more after seeing the way that he interacts with his family. They all seem very close. No wonder he wants to move back out to the Midwest. I wonder if we'll make it...

At times I look at him and think it might be nice to fall in love with him. And then there are times when I realize how different we are. I wonder what his parents thought of me. Not so much about my performance in the role of JP's girlfriend, but more in terms of someone who might be in his life for a while longer. I'm sure he wouldn't tell me the truth if they didn't think we'd last. And I suppose we wouldn't last very long if they didn't approve.

But Suk likes him, and that's a good thing bc Suki hasn't liked anyone I've dated since MF, and that was years ago. And she's a good judge of character.

Follow through...

Shut up, you stupid roof chickens

I'm not entirely sure what pigeons sound like when they mate, but I'm going to guess they coo perturbedly, and in spurts. I would open my window and throw something at them but I have no screen and I am terrified that one of those disease-ridden fowl might fly into my room for vengeance's sake. And that would suck.

Follow through...

Six Irish car bombs will make a man say crazy things

He: I love you.

She: I think you're drunk. Follow through...

Dipping the ketchup

I was having a chat with the roommate R last night and she laughed when I said the word "boyfriend," a word that has not crossed my lips in many moons.

R: So what stage are you in?
Me: I dunno. Boyfriend/ girlfriend, I guess?
R: No, what relationship stage?
Me: Huh?

R then introduced me to the "dipping the ketchup" phase and the "naming the kids" phase.

R once had a friend who stopped seeing a guy because he dipped his fries into her ketchup. She had asked him if he wanted any ketchup. He said no. She got her own ketchup. And then he dipped his fries into her ketchup, which grosses her out. As this was only the second date and she didn't like him enough to want to explain that it bothered her and risk seeming neurotic, she simply got more ketchup for herself and wrote him off.

After the non-invested "dipping the ketchup" phase comes another phase, unnamed by R and her friends, which I like to call "sumo." It's the phase where you know you kind of like the other person and you think the other person likes you but you're not sure so the two of you just kind of circle each other around the ring trying to anticipate what the other wants or is going to do. This phase can go on forever, and ends when the parties get tired of circling or when the parties advance to the milestone DTR (Define The Relationship) talk. This forces the relationship to end or move on to the Relationship stage. In some cases, "sumo" occurs for an extended period of time when one party likes the other but is unwilling to end "sumo" by pushing for the DTR because s/he is likely to get an unfavorable outcome, or the DTR outcome was unfavorable to one party and both parties agree to revert to "sumo" indefinitely.

As you begin the Relationship, you are initiated into the Apollo phase. Probing, learning, discovering things about each other, but cautiously. There is little trust and much trepidation and careful treading at this stage.

At some point after declaring exclusivity, a couple may enter what R calls the "naming the kids" stage. You don't know enough about your partner yet to be disgusted, annoyed, or appalled. Yet. For all you know, the sun shines out his/ her ass. Your mind fast forwards to wedding bells and vacation homes and baby names. If one half of the couple enters this stage too quickly while the other remains behind in Apollo mode, the results may be disastrous. The one who is left behind may get nervous and/ or freaked out and bolt like a horse without blinders. Leaving behind shattered wedding bells and named but never to be born children. This is the honeymoon stage on speed.

I don't feel like I can speak very authoritatively on any stage beyond "naming the kids" because I really haven't had much success. So far, my relationships have evolved to become more mature or devolved and fallen apart. Or both, not necessarily in that order. Follow through...