Today’s soundtrack: uh-oh it’s magic.
Today at 10:32pm: Late-night telecommuting. You know what? Fuck connectivity.


Another bad thing about getting older is, it becomes difficult to tell when something is good or bad. Even as it’s happening to you. Shit flip-flops, turns corners and doubles back so you can’t always tell. Sometimes good things get all fucked up and the nastiest shit turns out to be alright.

Am I in a good mood? Uh...I don’t know.

Empty ‘fridge and my apartment’s a fucking mess. You know how in spy thrillers, the protagonist gets back to his apartment and finds it’s been totally ransacked? That’s what my place looks like right now. Like Russian spies turned the place upside down looking for fucking microfilm.

When mom and pop Noe raised their two kids, they left “teach Korean” off their to-do list. On top of that they raised us in Queens, Staten Island and a suburb thirty minutes north of Yonkers.

The end result of this is if you call me on the phone I sound like a guy who works in a pizzeria or down at Delmonico’s Auto Body. Korean? Can’t speak it. I speak better Spanish and my Spanish sucks tu madre’s ass.

So last night my parents and I went to this Korean joint in Queens. The food was pretty alright. The waitress asked me some basic questions I was unable to understand or answer.

Mid-meal I went outside to smoke a cigarette. The benefit of being 31 is that your parents don’t get on your ass about smoking. Maybe they’re just amazed they have offspring that made it this far.

It was freezing outside. Through the window I saw Koreans of all sizes and shapes, young, old, families, couples. Speaking in Korean. I stole glances at all of them and felt like an outsider, which was appropriate since I was...outside.

Over dinner my parents told me about Cali, then got on my ass about getting married. They make it sound like you can just order brides off of Amazon. I tried to explain that it’s not going to happen anytime soon because I can’t rush a process like this. Problems:

a. girls are not exactly throwing themselves at me
b. don’t want to be one of those schmucks who marries the wrong girl
c. don’t even have any candidates

Businessgirl’s great but I doubt she’d marry me; I think she’s slated for someone taller who has money. She’s still young and has a ways to go before she settles down. The guy who ends up with her is going to be a lucky fucking guy. Me, I’m not so lucky.

From what I gather I’m pretty different than the other guys she’s dated. There are already things popping up about me that she doesn’t seem to like, and I can’t say I blame her. I have a feeling the only position of eminence I will occupy in her long-term life will be as some weird anecdote, like “Ohmygod one time I dated this weird writer guy...” etc.

Before J-Lo, there was Charo. If you remember her I’m buying you a cuppa coffee.

So I read this article about Norman Mailer. Did you know he’s been married six times? Moneygrip is 80 years old and still writing. His first book came out in nineteen-forty fucking eight. He also stabbed his second wife, though I don’t have the details. Gonna have to Google that later.

On the plus side, Hapkido is going well. I am making some progress. At least I have one thing in my life that has the sole purpose of trying to mold me into a better human being. Betty’s been on my ass about showing up at the dojang and I love her for that.

On the surface it seems like just kicks and punches but I learn a lot from my Sabumnim. I learn about The Way. Making progress towards mastering my destiny and all that good shit. I’m still such a novice, but at least at the dojang I feel like I’m moving in the right direction.