'분류 전체보기'에 해당되는 글 1647건

  1. 2023.05.31 rest in peace.
  2. 2023.05.26 ..
  3. 2023.05.26 .
  4. 2023.04.12 april,
  5. 2023.03.02 -
  6. 2023.02.09 already feb,
  7. 2023.01.06 Books of 2023
  8. 2022.12.20 last days,
  9. 2022.12.15 perpetual purgatory
  10. 2022.12.13 december.

rest in peace.

tim keller died.

 

how did i find out about him? through twitter, through a korean american blogger i think. that's where i first heard of him maybe. i've read some of his books, i sometimes listen to his sermons via his podcast. i've admired him. he is one of those rare american pastors who is cerebral as anything, but also a charismatic, clear speaker, faithful to the scripture but also engaging enough with the world that he wrote pieces for and was interviewed by mainstream media. he was like the american version of philip and peter jensen. 

 

when i read that he had stage 4 pancreatic cancer i felt for him. i heard he was undergoing treatment, in trials, then recently that he was in hospice then quickly he had passed. i felt it for days. i read numerous people - even those who may have disagreed with him within christian circles - write only good things about him. i read and read and read. 

what a loss. why do i feel his death so? he was a guide for me in a way. 

what a shame i never got to hear him speak in real life. should have visited redeemer those times i visited nyc when i had the chance. 

 

i know he is with god, with jesus, in a better place. oh his message, that last tweet:

'I'm thankful for my family, that loves me. I’m thankful for the time God has given me, but I’m ready to see Jesus. I can’t wait to see Jesus. Send me home'

 

 

 

..

 

i report on o&g scans like penance. some sort of atonement. i give you blessing, women and your unborn children, will you look kindly upon me and my as yet unused and unoccupied uterus? on my eggs as yet unreleased? 

 

it is coming to six months. one hoped it would happen, naturally within these months. that such a blessing would be given us. it is now almost six months. we are almost about to jet off to foreign lands. will it happen? i try to be relaxed. try try try not to try, so body will forget, that it can happen spontaneously, not under duress, not under the excruciating pressure. 

 

every time it comes, it used to be a terrible nuisance but also a small relief, as if to say, ah yes i am still of reproductive age. i am potentially still ovulating, my body is hopeful and working, shedding, building up then shedding, always in preparation. 

now, when it comes, it is not only a terrible nuisance but a reminder of yet another failure. a bloody failure. 

 

i pray sometimes, but i mostly wish he hears them without me saying them out loud. that he sees my heart.

(but what of my heart? is it not full of ambivalence?)

 

.

 

그이가 나간 금요일 저녁, 나혼자 보내니 너무 좋다. 

그와 같이 있어도 좋지만, 이렇게 아주 가끔 즐기게 되는 혼자만의 시간이라 - 완전 행복. 

음악을 스피커로 맘껏 틀고, 따라 부르고, 

오랜만에 밀려온 내 단골 블로그글들을 몰아 읽고, 못 써왔던 여기 끄적일 수 있는, 낭만이다 낭만. 

 

 

여행은 이제 몇주 안 남았다.

대충 계획은 다 잡았다 - 부킹할 수 있는것들은 다 부킹해놓고 - 가우디의 모든곳들, 피카소뮤지엄 등.

여행 플레이리스트를 만들어야 하고

예쁜 매니큐어를 하고 갈까? 거긴 여름이니까. 예쁘게 하고 다니고 싶다. 

빨간 원피스를 입고 싶고, 여름스러운 밝은 색의 맥시드레스를 입고 싶다. 

 

 

오랜만에 가는 여행 다운 여행...

새로 카메라를 살까? 아이폰으로는 과연 사진같은 사진을 찍을 수 있겠어? 

마지막으로 샀던 파나소닉루믹스 SLR는 맛이 갔다 확실히. 

그냥 보통 사람처럼 아이폰으로 찍어야 하나... 사실 사진다운 사진을 찍은지 너무 오래 됨. 

(돈 좀 덜 써야...)

 

 

 

 

april,

we are learning spanish. started on a whim, while planning our trip, having read that in a city like v where we are visiting, that not everyone will speak english. duolingo it is. it has been fun, learning a totally new language, a lot like english, but all the gendered words! frustrating at times. 

 

my reading has come to a right stop since maybe a month ago? we are watching succession of course, marvelling at it. even signed up to that streaming service just for that show. before that i highly enjoyed glory - it was a guilty pleasure, i feel i shouldn't revel in a revenge drama so much but i did, i did enjoy it. we are watching the last of us now, but beef we started and i felt it was almost too close to home - not only the seething rage under the surface - i identified with the ali wong character - has enough but is tired of working, being the bigger breadwinner, the pressures thereof - expected to curb that rage. her words were like they were taken right out of my own mouth. 

 

we took a road trip out west for easter break. visited gardens, japanese and decidedly not. the latter garden - owned by a wealthy man and private sections only open certain times of the year - was quite lovely, despite the cold weather. i wished the peacock would have displayed his tailfeather, i wished there were more hydrangeas in full bloom, the maze less muddy, but overall it was probably worth the visit. 

 

now all i look forward to is june. 

-

i'd been itching to write. 

reading the new strout - not 'new' i suppose anymore - 'lucy by the sea' - has me inspired to start writing again. it had me nostalgic for the lockdown times too to be honest. those secluded times, where i walked a lot, drove to work, and roads were empty, we eyed each other from afar strangely, no meetings in person, we were just newly married and i could enjoy that to the fullest in our little cocoon. i miss those times. 

 

but when the warmth fades, when you've just had an argument, at such an inopportune time -  i am in my fertile 7 day period for goodness sake, i could be ovulating as we speak! - is our night gone? is it salvageable? we are both far too old and unlibidinous that we can hardly gather enough enthusiasm on a normal day, yet alone when we are not happy with each other.

the warmth is there sometimes very warm, near boiling, and yet other times, for me, it is completly off and in fact it's become a refrigerator. a freezer. negative temps. i feel nothing for you. 

 

i pray sometimes. i read the bible. 

i like to - in my own way - practise visualisation.

usually it is of holding a baby, the chubby arms and their hand in my hand. skin to skin. 

it's like most things in my life, i am generally pessimistic, fatalistic, managing my expectations (they are usually lowly set), but still, holding out a little hope.

 

already feb,

시간, 참 빨리 간다.

 

연말연시는 그렇게 빨리 가고, 다시금 현실로 온지 벌써 한달.

올해는 여행을 꼭 가자고, 콘퍼런스랑 겹쳐 가려고 계획은 하는데 쉽게 맘이 굳혀지지가 않는다.

누구랑 같이 여행하는거에서 오는 피로함, 그냥 유럽까지 가는 2번의 스톱이 있는 비행의 피로함, 또 예산...

집도 맘에 드는 집이 나왔는데 또 사려고 하니까 조금 버거운 맘으로 쭈빗해지고 다시금. 

조금 담대해져야 하는데.

 

fleishman is in trouble을 보며, 책보다 훨씬 재밌고 막 동질감 같은게 팍 든다. 

물론 뉴욕상류층 만큼은 전혀 아니지만, 그것보다 10% 정도 낮은 스케일에서. 

가까운 주위사람들의 돈돈돈 하는 모습에 나는 원래 그냥 괜찮은데 괜히 상대적으로 없음을 느끼고, 내가 더 바락바락 돈을 벌고 더 돈을 만들어야 한다는 강박관념에 시달리는 rachel - 특히 애가 생기고 사립학교에 보내고 그러면 더더욱 증폭 되겠지 그런 것들이. 내 주위에 많이 보이는 것들이다. 그러고 싶지 않은데 말이다. 

후배애들과 만나 걔네들의 에르메스 팔찌라던가 반짝거리는 다이아몬드 등등을 보면서 그런거 별 관심없는 나지만, 눈에 보이는건 욕심을 만드는 이상한 간사한 사람 마음. 

 

내 관심이 있는거 그저 가방뿐. 산지 오래됬지만, 샤넬 톱핸들이나 왈렛언체인이 눈에 간다 요즘. 

외국에 나가게 되면, 봐야지. 

 

 

 

Books of 2023

1. Stella Maris by Cormac McCarthy: um well this is my first mccarthy and by the way it turned out, likely last. I have very little patience for lengthy discussions about math and philosophy and theorems etc with tiny bits of some substance throughout that you blink and miss. Pretentious much?

2. Joan is Okay by Weike Wang: how do i say weike? is it wiki? wayki? waykuh? i don't know. starting this immediately after the slog that was stella maris (see above) i was so in love with the beginning chapters of this little lovely book. an isolated socially/culturally inept/unaware chinese immigrant who is an icu doc. it's not exactly my story but it was still a captivating and engaging read. when book went into discussing emergence of covid, i sort of did not want to go there - too real, i don't know if i love that i want to see real events so close to the now in my fiction - but ultimately i did enjoy the book.

3. The Furrows by Namwali Serpell: compelling first chapter that gets you into it straight away, then the alternative scenes that start to get a bit annoying but then the act 2, with the new perspective - it was a good read. writing, and the mood building, the emotions.

4. Black Cake by Charmaine Wilkerson: i enjoyed this standard but highly readable book. the book really made me want to taste a black cake - some sort of fruit cake??

5. The Farm by Tom Rob Smith: this book i 'enjoyed' (might be the wrong word) a lot. it captivated from page 1, the premise is intriguing as hell to start with, then the way he lets the story unfold, you wonder how is he going to resolve this? but in fact the end is not what you expected, yet somewhat completely believable, and one that cut me to the core. i kept thinking about it, days after reading it. it stayed and stayed with me. 
 
6. The Book of Goose by Yiyun Li: i enjoy her writing. how does one write - not what they know but totally different demographic? sounds stupid to even ask, given that is what writers have done for ages but i'm so used to the contemporary writer who writes what they know, within their own demographic, suddenly it feels foreign and novel (ha). 
 
7. Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin: was it life changing? no. but the story is good, driven by two - no three - interesting characters and their relationships. it even got me interested in gaming for a second. the writing - the prose - wasn't like the most beautiful or moving, and plot a little overly dramatic, but the characters were charming and engaging so one stayed absorbed. 
 
8. Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 by Cho Nam-Joo: was it a mistake to read this in english translation? i dont know, probably. it was obviously part 'educational', citing various stats of sex discrimination etc in korea. every page was - ofc in some parts exaggerated - a minor trauma, that many woman (korean and otherwise) would recognise. 
 
9. A Pale View of Hills by Kazuo Ishiguro: he frustrates me sometimes with his slow repetitive insinuations, is the payoff great enough for all that? is the 'suspense' (hardly) exciting enough or just irritating? the build up made me a little annoyed, i thought the stakes were not as great, emotionally not so rewarding. the writing is concise, but is it the most beautiful prose that tugs at your heart - not really. i am not sure why so many rave about him. 
 
10. Lucy by the Sea by Elizabeth Strout: how she kills me, just quietly devastating. i thought the last few books i've read where covid was mentioned in the book i did not love it, but now the almost coziness of their situation early on especially made me almost nostalgic for those early lockdown days. at times i felt, well she is a bit more haphazard here, not so precise, a bit here and there and rambly - but oh towards the end, how she killed me. with that bit about chrissy her daughter especially. i long to write like her. 
 
11. The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel Van der Kolk: too much talk of trauma becomes trauma itself no? i got to about 60%, and the words became a little too repetitive, trauma stories too - traumatising, if you will, so i had to let it go. also it's formidably long. 
 
12. Diary of a Void by Emi Yagi: i've heard about this book from here and there and found it funny at times, at times (rightfully) infuriating, so real, though ofc to a lesser degree than what she and many other far east asian women have to put up with. i felt the same phantom pregnancy almost. 
 
13. Nocturnes by Kazuo Ishiguro: and she persists, with ishiguro! this was actually a somewhat delightful collection of short stories, all featuring music/musicians. i enjoyed this. is the short story my favourite form?
 
14. Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner: was this a bit over hyped? she writes well enough, but is the story particularly unique? she rebelled a little sure and her mother died a bit young but... it made me long to go to korea and eat all the korean things, the stories of her mum were very familiar korean-mum stories... but i dont know, sometimes, over-familiarity breeds a sense of the prosaic. 
 
15. When We Were Orphans by Kazuo Ishiguro: oh my what is this, 2023 the year of ishiguro? i found this book somewhat more engaging and less annoying than the other constipated englishman stories. how he writes about memories - and how he slowly reveals, little by little, what seemed one way in memory, but may have been something else or someone else entirely - how he unfolds that. 
 
16. This House of Grief by Helen Garner: what a gripping read, a nonfiction book documenting the writer's observations at a court case involving a man and his children who drowned in a car.
 
17. Foster by Claire Keegan: didn't even realise at first that this was what the movie Quiet Girl was based on. what a beautiful tiny novella. lovable.
 
18. The Mill House Murders by Yukito Ayatsuji: urmmm it was ok. i expected more from a japanese mystery writer tbh!
 
19. The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman: it was ok. a cozy murder mystery featuring a group of elderly retirement home friends. i needed a book to read, ok??? 
 
20. The Man Who Died Twice by Richard Osman
 
21. The Bullet That Missed by RIchard Osman
 
22. Yellowface by Rebecca F. Kuang: i enjoyed this. the premise was delicious. granted it got a bit too much, too hectic and somewhat repetitive in the last third or so of the book, not sure about the ending - it was as though they didn't know how to resolve it well, but i enjoyed it. 
 
23. Counterfiet by Kirstin Chen: this was fun. i have been thinking about luxury bags - my favourite thing - and this was fascinating. made me wonder whether the safest place to buy is at the airport duty free shops, less likely to be returned superfakes etc. but also made me wonder about going to china to get a hermes kelly superfake! terrible but yes that was the temptation on offer while reading this. didnt expect to get so into this book, it was engrossing and well written.
 
24. Pineapple Street by Jenny Jackson: ooh this was delightful too. about a rich family in new york (brooklyn) with old money, the young sisters and how they think of class thru love/relationships. it was a quick read, compelling fun read.
 
25. Vladimir by Julia May Jonas: kept seeing the titular character as the actor who portrayed the Hot Priest in fleabag. sexy, visceral read. 
 
26. I'm Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy: at first i wondered - do i like this? is this too much? do i continue? but ultimately she made herself a compelling, likable, empathetic character to read. her struggles, her love and hate of her mother, that complex relationship, i saw that well. 
 
27. Trust by Hernan Diaz: sometimes every one seems to be talking about the same thing in your life - and i'd heard 2-3 different people recommend this book. i enjoyed it. i love reading certain period pieces (this was set in the early 1900s) and about extraordinary people esp women. 
 
28. The Other Black Girl by Zakiya Dalila Harris: read this because i watched a trailer of an upcoming tv show based on it. it was a bit Get Out meets Devil Wears Prada, but i found it stifling, a little annoying, too stressful but not in a good way - is there a good way to be stressed? - so i found myself skimming a lot, just to get through, just to get to the unveiling of the conceit, i just wanted to finish. not sure greatly recommend. 
 
29. The Albatross by Nina Wan: ooh i enjoyed this. how nice it must be to be able to write. i had to adjust my reading, from just skimming from the last book, to actually read full sentences and phrases, marinading in them. i felt the words, viscerally, even the quick sex scenes. gosh darn i love reading these asian women writers. 
 
30. 지구에서 한아뿐 by 정세랑: how long since i've read a korean book (in korean)? a long while. it still feels weird, awkward, like i am not used to the structure, that somehow grammar feels wrong, but it's presumably my brain, my eyes that are wrong, not the writer's. this was - not really my cup of tea, i don't dig aliens, especially in a twee way that this book is written, and lot of 'environmentally friendly' messaging was - preachy? not sure if this is a trend or just how it is with this book (but i felt it with how feminism was treated in kimjiyoung too) but do they need to spell it out like they're writing to elementary school children? 
 
31. The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart by Holly Ringland: it's your typical ... wild story of a girl living in isolation, lots of dv plots, mini family sagas, people falling hotly and blindly in love / lust a thing i cannot really empathise with... but a quick read. 
 
32. Greek lessons by Han Kang: is it wrong to read her in english? this is my second han kang, after the vegetarian, which i remember quite loving, or being moved by somewhat. similarly, evocative writing that makes you feel the atmosphere, the literal climate, the emotions - the claustrophobia. yet another woman made mute in some way, which made me long to be mute for a brief moment.
 
33. Romantic Comedy by Curtis Sittenfeld: compared to her book rodham this was a very much more conventional, light hearted - romantic comedy! just a quick light read, fine as that.  
 
34. The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri: quite an enjoyable read. lovely prose, everything you feel and see as she writes it.
 
35. Leave The World Behind by Rumaan Alam: they kept trying to build tension... with very little reward per se, it wasn't exactly a plot driven thriller - more leave it to one's imagination, process not the endpoint, millieu rather than details of events. not sure it was worth it in the end.
 
36. Only Goodness by Jhumpa Lahiri: more of a short story - not even a collection thereof - at only seventy something pages. similar setting, family, bengali immigrant story things.
 
37. The Lowland by Jhumpa Lahiri: enjoyed it. coming of age/ immigrant story/ complex mother-daughter relationship etc.
 
38. Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver: it was a long one - 850+ pages on my ebook! at first i was a bit like oh no not another coming of age story from poverty and terrible upbringing marred by addiction and single parents and poor partner choices etc!!! and it was all of those things, things that sometimes make my eyes roll, just bad to worse situations, that i literally had to skip pages very quickly. but then a bit of redemption, thankfully. at final few pages i was on the train, as a ray of sunshine of sorts appears on page, and i teared up a bit out of a small sense of finally some happiness.
 
39. Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus: well it is certainly entertaining. more telling than showing, more didactic than literary - made me think about what makes a book literary fiction vs not (whatever that not is). when a book does not have to rely on having extraordinary characters - whether that's how smart they are, how beautiful they are, etc etc - when a book does not have to spell everything out, every emotion or thought explicitly stated - well there is an art to that. when a book's 'message' is not so clearly overtly written in bold, for all children to even understand - there is an art to that. 
 
40. Daisy Jones and the Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid: it was an tertaining quick read. not sure what the big fuss is about though
 
41. The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho: i still remember back in early 90s in korea this book advertised everywhere in the newspapers like it was the next big thing and reading it was a bit... like it reminded me of the little prince story. uber simple, supposedly deep, but feels still rather not. nice story, maybe for children.

42. Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri: a selection of short stories of varying bengali immigrants again. Well written.

Final book of the year, a year full of Lahiris and Ishiguros.
 

last days,

so it happened, i finally got it, full 7 days after initial exposure, 6 days after his, 3 or so days since some upper respiratory symptoms set in. sore throat, barky effortful cough, some nasal discharge, some headache, a little tiredness, and just recently, anosmia. 

 

this means at least partially i can shorten the in laws trip. small blessings, silver linings, etc.

 

what have i achieved by not leaving the apartment nearly a week (bar those first few negative days when i still walked out for walks and groceries, of course masked)? started white lotus season 2, finished rilakkuma the themepark edition, finished one book and started another (another anne tyler), but other than not much else. i usually feel pretty good during the day, and worse at night in bed. 

 

he is doing worse than me, despite having suffered nearly a week more than me, spiking fevers as soon as panadol wears off, violent coughing spasms, lethargic at times. my baby with his weak constitution. 

 

can you believe - it's last 10 days or so of the year. where has it all gone? was i hopeful? sure i was. hope and anticipation became desperation and a rollercoaster of ups and downs. have i reached acceptance stage, a serenity? or is this just a break i'm letting myself have, a little hiatus. 

perpetual purgatory

why am i not testing positive, even after having been next to the same positive person at the wedding?

even after spending the next 24 hours in intimate contact w spouse, who ended up testing positive <48hrs after that shared exposure?

even after abandoning strict quarantine and literally french kissing him that night and having slept in the same bed every night since? 

it's now been 5 days since initial exposure to the person, and 4 days of only half hearted quarantining off of my infected spouse.

 

do i have some sort of super immunity - or maybe i had it in the recent past without knowing, and have some recent antibodies - or a super long incubation period?

 

i am no longer entirely asymptomatic. i have a little scratchy throat, a little cough, but that could all be just nothing i suppose. i don't know but the purgatory, the not knowing, not exactly knowing what to do about work - what with its financial and social consequences - it's killing me. 

the house is a mess - we only have a two bedder afterall. he is in the main bedroom isolating, i am (trying) sleeping on the couch, my clothes/fresh underthings are in the living room, it's all such a grotesque sight. 

 

it's not like when i was taking time off for ivf, where i could do whatever i liked, the peace and quiet - there is chaos in the physical world around me, there is sickness in the room mere metres away, and the uncertainty, the not knowing where my body is at, where it is going, it is driving me crazy. i can't concentrate and achieve tasks. 

 

december.

우선은 day 5 morula, 이상적이지 않은 시작 이었다. 아니 시작은 난자를 7개 밖에 얻지 못한 것, 그리고 그 중 successfully fertilised 된건 2개 뿐, 그 중 하나가 morula. 희망이 없지는 않았지만, 낮아진 상태였다. 

 

이번에는 좀 너무 생각에 빠지지 않았다. 그게 어떤면에서는 좋았고, 너무 걱정도 너무 희망도 하지 않고 그냥 그렇게 무덤덤한 11일을 보냈다. 검사 하기 며칠전 부터 아주 익숙한 생리전 오는 아랫배와 허리가 아프고 땡기는 그런 증상에, 크게 소망할 수 없는 상태였다. 

 

임신검사 하러 가는 날 아침, 꿈이 아주 안 좋았다. 문자로 '임신 네가티브에요' 를 받고, 무슨 시술하러 클리닉에 갔는데 갑자기 생리 피가 왕창 쏟아져 나왔고, 의사는 하려던 시술은 못하는데 대신 d&c 를 해야 해요 라고 말하는, 그런 꿈. 피가 많이 흘러 하얀 내 운동화까지 빨갛게 물들었던, 그런 악몽이었다. 

 

피검사를 하러 갔는데, 피뽑는 사람이 프린트 가 안 된다며, 1순위였던 나를 계속 기다리게 했다. 안그래도 꿈이 안 좋은데 '재수가 없다' (inauspicious start!) 라는 생각을 떨칠 수 없었다. 나는 결국 그걸 끝내고 그이의 차를 타고 기차역까지 가는 길 눈물을 줄줄 흘리고 있었다. 지금 울면, 출근해서 결과통보 올때 쯤에는 더이상 울지 않겠지, 눈물이 다 소비됬겠지 하고. 

 

기차 안에서는 'the school for good mothers'를 읽었는데, 후반부 너무 슬픈 부분이 되어 다시 막 울게 됬다. frida 나 나나 같은 마음 인 거같앴다. 그녀는 현실의 딸, 나는 아직 현실에 있지도 않는 자식 에 대한 상실감. 

 

결국 몇시간 후 전화가 왔고, 다 예상했던, 전혀 놀랍지 않은 소식이 왔다.

'i'm afraid i don't have good news for you today'

지난 두번과 똑같은, 항상 쓰는 문장. 이제 지겨운 그 말. 다시는 듣고 싶지 않은 그 말. 

 

 

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