Well, for starters I am not one to be bashful or ashamed.  I want this, whatever it will turn into, to be honest and straight-forward.  This proposition does not predicate the idea that what I write about has to be boring or lack flair—though it may be the case that no matter how it is written, a post may still be boring.  Quite the opposite of my desire.  With my simple disclaimer out of the way, let me begin to tell you how I arrived in Seoul, South Korea without keeping you here all night, whoever you are.

My intention to settle down in the Land of the Morning Calm can be summed up in the notion of getting away, away from it all: my life in the States.  Why?  Well, that’s simple.  It is the reason all good men decide to run, a woman.

You see I am not that old, but I’m certainly not getting any younger.  I have spent the majority of my youth in a monogamous relationship and I married young.  When I tell most people the travails I have been through, they ask me “if it was worth it?”, or “do you feel you wasted your youth?”  There’s two ways I could answer this and feel satisfied:  either yes or no.  Doesn’t help you out much, ehh?  Well,  when the proverbial shit hit the fan I felt like nine-plus years of my life were nothing but a sad joke.  But no one was laughing.  My friends, mostly her friends, weren’t much help.  I never liked them much anyway.  On the other hand, it is something to learn from.  I spent those dedicated years focusing on three things: writing, reading and her.  If I could remove the latter I would be just fine.

So, to the juice or pulp or if you prefer the blend, its here too:  We got married young.  I suggest it, if that is what you want.  My family always described me as an “old soul”.  In the prime of my youth, as it is so often referred to, I declined the normal route of life in the fast lane and caved to the beckoning of a simple life.  I am an engaged observer.  When I was young, I always liked the idea of marriage and a cozy house somewhere far away from it all.  Those were my romantic days.  Then I became sentimental with age and the idea that just a regular old life would be good enough.  Nothing special:  a yard, maybe, a nine to five.  Then I became a cynic when she revealed she was none other than Jezebel.  I was that Indian with the tear in his eye:  too proud to rage but not vain enough to show his world was dead.

Most of my friends, as I mentioned, were really her friends.  I mixed well over the years and they liked me, but I couldn’t have cared less if we went to Jeff’s BBQ Parties where he burnt the chicken every time. They were no help.  So I said fuck em.

All that is left of my family is my brother.  He is quite a few years older than myself.  My parents were from a small family, both only children.  It is just the two of us.  I don’t think I was supposed to be born, I mean planned.  They had me when they were old and passed on to the ground in my mid 20s.  My brother has been supportive.  I love him, but hes old and has his own life, so no need for me to stick around for him—he understands.

I hated my job and soon after the dust had settle, the divorce and moving on, I quit.  I essentially told everyone I had been associated with to fuck off, like a real grown-up.  What next?  I came across a listing for teaching in Korea, got off my ass, sent some emails and before you knew it I was drinking free Cass on a Korean Air flight.  What a wonderful world.

I’ve been here for some time now.  I am enjoying myself, though the novelty of Korean beer is quickly fading. Lightning round:  Have you gone crazy and partied like a mad man?  No. What do you do?  I sit, I read, I drink, I smoke, I teach and I am trying to learn this language.  Why blog?  Well, for one, I read too many in my free time.  It’s a free look into the reflected psyche of an individual, an open diary if you will.  Fascinates me.  I want to add to the collective consciousness of this existence, the English teacher abroad.  Who do  you work with?  I work with foreigners and Koreans, obviously.  It is interesting, but most of my younger coworkers do not understand why I don’t want to party hardy ever weekend.  Forgive me.

More to come.  Kids, keep your heads up.