Stephanie in Suwon

12 months since returning to Canada. 11 and a half weeks of teaching Gold reading, Gold writing, Master reading, Master writing, and 100 Classics to a bunch of kids who probably had more money in their bank accounts at the age of 16 then I have in mine at this very moment…summertiiiiiiiiime….and the livin is eaaasssyyyyyyyyy………. 10 thousand reminders why coming home was the right thing to do and how lucky I am every day to be where I am choosing to be. 9 thousand, 9 hundred and 99 reminders of how my experiences overseas have forever changed me and how unbelievably fortunate I am to have been able to do what I did. 8 courses in my first semester….conveniently leading into….. 7 nervous breakdowns…which is actually a record low for me……also my lucky number….. 6: The average number of times a day I wonder if the people around me have figured out that I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing….. 5 days a week at the gym + walking EVERYWHERE + up and down 6 flights of stairs every day at work + ...

Lets’ take stock shall we? Snow, snow and more snow. Mom and Dad, the sound of the espresso machine and sleeping in a single bed. New places, new faces, same job, same desire to blow my brains all over the computer screen I sat in front of each and every day. Walking away. Rainbow corsets and Buddy Holly glasses. Beautiful Disaster. Reconnecting with Holli Day. The Calgary International Airport. Love. Confusion, inner struggles, tears and red wine. Skinny hazelnut lattes and banana chocolate chip cake. One job, two jobs, three jobs, four. Picking myself up from the floor. Skype. Hardwood floors, electric kettles and the smell of spring. The green neon. Greek Salad. Dirty Dancing. Butterflies. Red wine, shisha and 5am. Falling, falling….. Love. SK. The smell of the streets. Saying goodbye. I Could Say. TPR. Vogue Slims and Cafri. Saus. Skype. Broken Strings. Desire. The Heart of Life. End of the tunnel. Love. Amy. 29. Smashed and shattered. SAIT. Band-aids and broken hearts. Brunches at...

Vanilla Noir. Red wine. Fake Plastic Trees. VDEO 235. Cambodia. Passion. Coffee. White rims. Purple pens. Audio. Sample sale nails. Red and green. Pin-up. The Missing Piece. Dirty snow. Starbucks. Red underwear. Jason Mraz. Silver Belles. NYC. Wintertime maintenance.. Bing Crosby. Memories. Band-Aids. Broken hearts. ....who you wanted...... I look like the real thing……. I taste like the real thing…….

I've been missing this, truly. School will be done in less than a week and my blessed, well-deserved and much-needed Christmas vacation shall commence. I shall indulge myself at that point. Until then......... ...long as I am erasing this there's something i am bound to miss opportunities exist but often don't arise and think of how it must have felt to watch you walk away and melt i keep it all inside myself and in between my eyes and it's no surprise what we've become since the arrival has begun it hasn't been long enough to even begin to think it's alright i'm only concerned with the way we end up i think i've been wrong enough to know when i'm right so put up fight if you must but we know that our trust is undone it hasn't been long enough i feel as if i spoke too soon and ruined the whole afternoon a feeling that we're more than doomed is creeping up inside and good as it was bound to be there's something about you and me it'...

As of late….. …I’ve been missing this. Writing. Full glass of wine to my left, Radiohead in my speakers, my jumbled, fucked up thoughts somehow congealing into something resembling sense and pouring out of my fingers onto a keyboard and into cyberspace…words snatched from my mouth, my mind…my small vulnerable contribution….. …I made a new friend. Her name is Harley… …School is the same mess of hoops, smoke and mirrors it has seemed since the beginning. The days fly by in a flurry of lectures, laptops, and lucky guesses. Stolen moments on Facebook in class, the pressures of professionalism and the company of three people I can only hope will flourish under fluorescent lights, fueled by coffee, laughter and weekend brunches… …I am anxiously anticipating my return to the stage. The feeling of a script in my hands again is so delicious it’s sinful…delving into the layers of a character, discussing motivations and emotional depth, verbing lines and breathing in the smell of a rehearsal spac...

Understatements of the century shall include but are not limited to the following: 1) Things have been busy. 2) I’ve been thinking……. 3) Wait, wait now…..I’m confused. 4) Red wine is a good thing. 5) I’m one of the luckiest girls in the world. Life post-Korea is nothing that I thought it would be, could be, should be. It is more and less at the exact same time. It is more confusing then I thought it would be, full of strange contradictions that leave me breathless at times. There are moments I downright long for Asia and its mixture of reliable frustration and insanity. There are moments I count my lucky stars that I made it home when I did and knew that the time had come to say goodbye. And then there are the moments that I feel gobsmaked by the overwhelming pull I feel in both directions. Travel is a potent drug, and the realization, nay, the knowledge that a change, an adventure, an escape is as simple as a plane ticket away can be an intoxicating inclination. Mucking your way thro...

Seoul. On the subway the day I left..... Sad eyes and awkward goodbyes. Sure yet not. Park benches, Cafri, and cigarettes. Laughter. Head electric, heart swirling. Alone. Content. Gangnam. Coffee bean & Tea leaf...one last time. Familiar smiles and that same blue shirt. Disappearing into crowds and watching you do the same. ..You may tire of me as our December sun is setting because I'm not who I used to be No longer easy on the eyes but these wrinkles masterfully disguise The youthful boy below who turned your way and saw Something he was not looking for: both a beginning and an end But now he lives inside someone he does not recognize When he catches his reflection on accident On the back of a motor bike With your arms outstretched trying to take flight Leaving everything behind But even at our swiftest speed we couldn't break from the concrete In the city where we still reside. And I have learned that even landlocked lovers yearn for the sea like navy men Cause now we s...

I’m dropping in, slowly but surely, I’m feeling this new thing I’ve jumped into. This mind-fuck of a shift in my life, and today I found myself walking through campus, my breath pooling in front of me in the crisp morning air, coffee cup in my hand, RHCP in my ears, and a smile on my face. I’m still reeling from all of this. From everything that’s happened in my life in the last month, the last 3 months, the last year. I was still in Korea this time last year. Korea. Thank God for Korea. That’s right, you read that correctly. I’ll say it again. Thank God for Korea. Thank God for the time and space I was given there, to think, to love, to be…to write. Thank God for the taste I was given of what it feels like to be an outsider, a visible minority, my skin and language both envied and damning. Thank God for the doors that it opened for me, a world of love, a world of pain, a world I never thought I would see or experience. A world filled with beaches and blue, sweet, sticky air, burned ou...

….officially. So what the fuck else is new though, really? Ahem... Weekend sum up: Tim Hortons. Glitter, feathers, corsets, high heels, high kicks, high, high, high…… Repeat. Gin, vodka, cranberry gingerale, Lucky Lager, Burt Reynolds in a shot glass. Repeat. Repeat. 2 hours of sleep…..in a sleeping bag…with no pillow…on the floor. Smitty’s. Value Village…..oh yes. Strippers at 4pm. Thinking….”I could do that….” Realizing…”I could do that….better…” Vodka and Red Bull. Duran Duran, Culture Club, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, Billie Joel, Bon Jovi, The Police, Pat Benatar, Madonna, George Michael, Sting, Aerosmith….and MJ. Oh MJ…… Big hair, bad make-up, boobs, booty and a bunch of bad-ass chicks...rockin out. Gin. Gin. Gin. 3 hours of sleep…..in a sleeping bag….with no pillow…on the floor. Rain, rain, rain…..Tim Hortons…..the highway……. Home Sweet Home. Big smile. Big sigh. Back to reality. School is a blog for another time. For now, I am grateful for gin, girls and glitter…and John May...

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind, the kind that makes you feel exhilarated and high one minute, and downright nauseous the next. Life continues to surprise me, even in my old, old age. It’s always been my personal belief that unless you learn the lessons life throws your way the first time it does so, you will be forced/doomed to repeat your mistakes and learn those life lessons, over and over and over, with the stakes becoming higher and higher each time. The following is one life lesson I think I’ve finally learned. Nothing in life will ever happen the way you expect it to. Seriously. Ever. You can wrack your brain and exhausted every possible scenario that you ever imagine could possible be conceived. You will mentally and emotionally prepare yourself for every single one of these scenarios and arm yourself with the knowledge that your confidence, strength of character, and those deep breathing medititation exercises you spent the past 3 months honing will carry you through....

I’ve been trying hard to take it all in, the fact that this journey I started on 3 months ago….no…..2 years ago….is really coming to an end. I’m finding it difficult though, for some reason, to feel that, to know that. Today just feels like another day in Seoul. But it’s not. It’s my last day. My last day in Seoul. Walking home from dinner last night, I choose to put away my headphones and just listen to the sounds of the city as I made my way through the streets. Horns blaring and the whoosh and zoom of traffic, scooters zipping by with their put-put engine noises, and feeling the air around me shift and the sound barrier be broken as a Ducati flew past me, it’s wheels barely grazing the Seoul streets it honored with its presence. I listened to the sounds of drunken male voices, raised in good spirits and soaked with soju and kept my eyes on the sidewalk in front of me as I passed the business suit clad men who stared and shouted and stumbled towards me. I skirted the edges of the sid...

Rewind... How can a place that feels like a dream contain such harsh realities? How many ways can you lose yourself? How quickly can you forget who you are, how you are, what you are? How many ways can you love and loathe at the same time? How long will it be until you go, mercifully, numb? How did it come to this? And now…. Life in Technicolor. Sweat and shaky muscles. Peanut butter and banana. Joy. Laughter and longing. Iced vanilla lattes. Music and lyrics. Goodbyes…

Mr. Toombs, my fourth grade teacher, had decided that our class was going to raise butterflies as a science project. We watched our caterpillars eat, grow, wrap themselves up in their cocooned world and emerge triumphant; there was a sense of satisfaction at watching something ugly turn into something so beautiful. We had already released two of the three we had raised and were anxiously awaiting the arrival of the last one of our “pets”. We waited. And waited. There was a small crack in the cocoon and we could see movement coming from the inside if we watched closely but after 3 days, we were staring to get impatient. One of the boys in my class, Chaz, decided to help out our little friend and with the support of the rest of us he swiped an exato knife from the desk of our teacher and carefully, oh so carefully, enlarged the opening so as to assist the butterfly’s entrance to the world. The next morning we arrived in class to find our butterfly, the last butterfly, the butterfly we ha...

I haven’t been sleeping well as of late. And by as of late I mean since arriving in Seoul in May. I have slept all the way through the night approximately once since touching down. At first I chocked it up to nothing more than a severe case of jet lag, combined with the stress of starting a new job, and a fucking stressful job at that. Working for 14 hours a day might have enduced exhaustion in some but not this girl. Nope. Having to move 3 times in 2 months while hauling 2 suitcases, 1 backpack and an assload of emotional baggage also might have taken its toll on some. But not this girl. Watching the curtain close on yet another significant chapter in one’s life while being confronted with uncomfortable realities that one was seemingly unprepared for, might also have sent certain others into an emotional coma. But not this girl. I can’t sleep. And it’s starting to get to me. Last week I had one of the worst days I’ve ever had in Korea. It was Friday and after a (yet another) night of...