Stephanie in Suwon

There is too much to say. Snapshots to come. For now...... ...Standing on the corner of the Bleeker St. playground soaked in sunshine and bathed in wind that was chilly but not cold. My eyes drank it all in; the cobblestone streets, the brownstone town houses and red brick buildings lining them like soldiers, bare branches stretching towards the sky as though sensing the spring and warmer winds. I could still taste cupcake and began to walk up the street. My boots made no noise at all, and as I rounded the corner a young woman’s shoulder collided with mine. She didn’t glance back but nodded in my general direction. I suppose that could pass for an apology... ...Times square. Seoul’s jealous lover. There are no stars, there is only neon. Pictures moving, flashing, words moving back and forth, in and out. The energy is like nowhere else and as I moved through the crowds, I understood why natives abhor this place. Tourists clog the streets, cameras flashing, shopping bags dangling form th

The weight is wearing on me. Expectations and deadlines. Unbendable. Non-negotiable. Emotional eating and no time to work it out. No time. My body feels soft, heavy, hungry all the time. Blue lights and whispered conversations. Flashes of silver cradles, open graves and fists wrapped in blood. Swallowed whole by demons being exorcised, red wine and loud laughter. Haunted dreams. There is darkness and frozen air, stale smoke and forgotten longing. Thoughts slip through the cracks like thieves, planting themselves firmly in my mind, my heart. It’s all coming to the surface and pouring out of my eyes, my mouth. As simple as a man’s white t-shirt. As complex as a woman’s heart. And all the while….the latest story. The newest cast. Backstabbing whispers and thinly veiled contempt. The odd glimmer of hope, of interest, and then it all feels washed away, in a sea of copy, voicers and black coffee. I’ve simply got to get a grip.

I feel like I’ve been whacked across the head by one of those cartoon mallets, birds and stars circling my head. Overwhelmed by schedule rotations, due dates and the expectation that by this point, I’m supposed to have a handle on what the fuck I’m supposed to be doing. I was sitting in one of my journalism classes on Tuesday trying to listen, write, comprehend, apply, watch, learn and breathe all at the same time. The prof glanced at the clock and called for a 10-minute break. I put my head down on my computer keyboard and closed my eyes. For some reason, my mind flashed to a day I spent in a Café Passcucci in the heart of Seoul. It had been a Saturday and I had risen around 6, and crawled onto the 5100 bus. I needed to feel the city, escape, and be alone. I took the subway straight to Meyongdong, and by the time I came out of exit 6 the streets were already alive. They smelled the way so many streets in Seoul did; of coffee, garbage, baking bread and plastic. I sat in that coffee sho

Media personalities are an interesting aspect to the program I’m currently bungling my way through. We’re a unique bunch, I’ll give us that. High school grads, fresh faced, irresponsible and full of surprises, current active members of the press, drunk on the power of information and the right to wield and disperse in the manner they see fit, biology majors who feel they have deluded themselves long enough and are learning the art of scientific storytelling, jocks, ex-figure skaters stepping off the ice and experiencing trial by fire, army brats, a bona-fide Hollywood starlet, poli-sci junkies……and me. Age gaps wide enough to drive a truck through and I watch them in wry wonder, remembering when I was their age, how much I thought I knew. The masks are intricate and plentiful, vulnerability is a detriment. There’s no crying in baseball…and all that healthy stuff. Competition is cutthroat; apparently there are only 4 media jobs left in the world so we’d better claw our way there. Af

Be grateful for the things I have Be hopeful…not bitter…about the things I wish I had. Fall in love. Use my body in ways that are pleasurable and comforting; to myself and to those around me. Exercise a lot. Eat food that is healthy and delicious. Everything in moderation…including moderation. Drink wine. Spend as much time with my family as I can. Run the half-marathon with my father. Fall in love. Write. Be vulnerable. Smoke shisha. Breathe, be, think, criticize, analyze, dig, drop in, feel, stretch, smile, cry, twist, bend, break and heal: act. Drink beer. Watch my brother get married. Have a houseplant that I don’t kill. Win something. Go to New York with Amy. Fall in love. Read. Get another tattoo. Dance. Bleed. Lose weight. Gain it back again. Drink gin. Turn 30. Publish something. Smoke cigars. Kiss. Be OK Revel in being......a beautiful mess......... ...You've got the best of both worlds You're the kind of girl who can take down a man, And lift him back up again You are