Self-Rev?

I've never been one to trust therapists. I had a bad experience at the age of fourteen and quickly declared it all a crock of shit. My parents had just split (for the second and final time) and things had become chaotic as they do when the balance is thrown and everyone is recast in different roles. My dad became the 'week-end dad', as that was the only time we had to see him. My mom was suddenly the bread-winner, I was 'stand-in parent' and Tyler and Travis were... well- confused. With chaos, of course comes anger and frustation- but instead of sitting down and discussing our feelings within the family, my brothers and I were carted off to therapists. Or rather Tyler and Travis were- I refused to go. Then one Saturday morning, my sleep was interrupted by a strange woman sitting on the foot of my bed. For those of you who have not had the pleasure of waking up next to me, I can assure you- it is no pleasure. I am a nasty, hateful morning person and everybody knows it. The woman introduced herself (as though I'd care) and I lay there in silence. I don't remember what she said or what happened, I don't remember how long she stayed, but I remember being mad. She finally declared that perhaps she had caught me at a bad time and would schedule an appointment. What a novel idea, I thought! At what other point in my life would a complete stranger have the audacity to come into my room, wake me up and tell me how I feel? I hope that any of my friends crazy enough to have children will remember this story when they decide that their teenagers don't deserve the same respect given every other person. In any case, she scheduled an appointment and told me when I could expect to see her again. Unfortunately, I immediately forgot the appointment date and happened to be home when she stopped by. She and her crazy male counterpart took me for pizza and again, I sat in silence. They rattled off about how they understood how I felt and knew I was sad my dad had left. I shouldn't blame myself. Why the hell would I blame myself? This woman was unbelievable- it was as though she had rented all the teen angst movies she could find in preparation for our meeting. I opened my mouth only twice over dinner- once to correct her and tell her that I had been hoping my parents would split since I was nine years old. The second time to answer her stupidest question yet- if your parents were animals, what kind of animals would they be? Without thinking, I rattled off the first two that came to mind and refused to explain why. I imagine they probably looked up said animals in their 'guidebook to the teenage mind' when they returned to the office. It was right next to the check list of the way fourteen year olds feel about their parents divorce and the asterix that says teenagers love pizza so much, they'll do anything for it.


Apparently psychologists and all their friends (social workers, psychiatrists and all the other crazies) believe that family life in childhood has a huge impact on how you grow up. They say that girls will marry someone 'just like their father' (although my mother has often told me that I'm just like my father- now what could that mean?), and boys will marry someone just like their mothers. They believe that if you grow up with instability, you'll seek it out as a comfort in your adulthood. I wonder. As I deal with crisis after crisis, it has occured to me that perhaps there is some truth to all this. I do seem to have a knack for choosing the most difficult route in every possible situation. As the oldest child and the only girl, I was a little spoiled when I was young. Not in the way that I would get a toy for crying, or a candy if I screamed, but spoiled in activities. My parents always supported my interests. I started swimming before I could walk, and skating shortly after I did. There was an endless string of lessons- piano, clarinet, ballet, gymnastics, soccer, basketball, baseball, figure skating... my parents spent alot of my childhood driving me all over for my lessons. There was never any pressure to continue if I wasn't happy, but it seemed I couldn't be happy unless I was running around. I've definitely brought that to my adult life.

As this year draws to a close, I've begun to contemplate how I've changed. My mom has asked me countless times this year if I regret my choice to come. It's seemed a ridiculous question to me all along. How could I regret an experience that is so unique? Before making an exciting new purchase, we get excited, we think about it alot and then we convince outselves we need it. So we buy it and our focus quickly shifts to the next exciting purchase. In the same way, it's easy to forget what an incredible opportunity this is, because it has become my reality. My dad reminded me the other day that he's never had the chance to travel, and I remembered that it is something special. When I consider that I knew absolutely nothing of Korean culture only a year ago, it's amazing how much I've learned. And how much I've changed. When I landed here in Korea, I had in mind only two goals- to see the country and pay off my student loans. But my plans soon changed. I had never travelled before. Why would I waste all the money I saved on paying off my student loans? One hundred and fifty dollars a month for the rest of my life wasn't the end of the world. How could I waste an opportunity to travel in Asia just to pay down a relatively small loan? How could I think about returning to school when I hadn't owned a computer since I left my parent's house? How could I think of giving money back to the banks that had screwed me for years, at the expense of all this? This year has given me some distance. When I lived in rich, rich Alberta I always had a savings account. I went out alot. There was rarely money problems, from what I remember. But all that changed when I moved to Quebec and got sucked into a system built around taxing you to death. Quebec say fare (Quebec sait faire), as my dad says. It becomes difficult to see your options when you're living paycheck to paycheck. In fact, all you see is that you have no options at all.


I feel like I'm constantly fighting part of myself. I have a desire to be stable, responsible and dependable. Part of me wishes that my apartment were always clean and my things always in order. The other part of me is the definition of indirect. I start a hundred things and only finish two. In fact, I start things I know I won't finish just for something to do. For those of you astrology buffs, I'm a Gemini in a Virgo's body. I feel like my friends are split right down the middle- those that know me from my Calgary days and those that know me from Montreal. My Calgarian friends will remember that I was constantly changing apartments, jobs, roomates and boyfriends. My Montreal friends remember that I lived in St Henri before Fred and I moved in together. They don't remember me before Fred because I met them around the same time we started dating. I always run into at least two of my exs when I visit Calgary- but in Montreal, I only have two exs (and they don't count). I know that either I've changed alot, or I've found something worth keeping when I think about Fred. We just passed our four year mark- the last year of which has been entirely long distance. We've talked almost everyday- even if it was just a couple minutes. Fred tells me that years ago, he wouldn't have been able to handle it. I know for a fact that years ago, I wouldn't even have tried. The problem with loving chaos and stability at the same time is that the grass is always greener. Years ago, I would have taken my year away as a chance to enjoy the freedom from my committed relationship. But when I arrived in Korea, I realized that I had found what I was looking for- there was no point in looking further. I don't know when I grew up, but it seems that I did. I can't decide if that's scary or not. It definitely scares me that I'm passed samples of anti-wrinkle cream in stores here, or that my kids sometimes slip and call me ajimma (middle-aged woman with kids). I look forward to getting carded in Calgary when I arrive- just so I know that I haven't aged that much.


I left Montreal without thinking too much about the experience of being away for a year, about teaching or about living in Korea. I really wasn't sure where I would stand once I got here- with my situation, with acting, with Fred, with myself. How could I? You can read every tourist book you find and still not be prepared for the actual shock of being here. There are tons of teachers that arrive and quickly leave because they hadn't considered that they might have to eat unfamiliar foods. Or feel unprepared when they sit down for their first meal in Korea and realize they've never used chopsticks. I wrote my first couple updates and emailed them off to anyone and everyone who had shown an interest... and many who hadn't. I hadn't imagined that I would keep writing regularly. But I kept getting a steady flow of comments and emails from people who loved the rants and were keeping on top of them. So I kept writing. I've always known that I could write, but I also took it for granted. I sort of threw it into the same category as brushing your teeth. But I've come to realize that it isn't that simple and I can get paid to do it. So why not? There is so much pressure in our culture to label ourselves and it leaks into everything. I remember thinking at 18 that I was too young to decide what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Here I am at 26 and I still feel too young. I don't want to make a choice. There's no reason I should have to. I can be an actor and a writer. I've discovered that I don't have a passion for teaching like I do writing or acting, but I can do it for awhile. Suddenly I see options everywhere. When I left the Hyatt last year, I told myself that I was leaving customer service for good. And I am. University graduates shouldn't have to work in restaurants- and the ones who get stuck are those that are too scared to leave. I've also come to accept, once and for all, that I need to work for myself. No more screwing around. IMAX aside, I've never had a job where I didn't look at my boss and think, "You're just so stupid." I'm not cut out for the 9 to 5 job, I hate mornings- although I've learned to be a little nicer because I can't yell at three year olds just for being three before I've had a coffee.

What's my point? I'm rambling. Young people often travel to 'find themselves', which has always sounded so cheezy to me. It's not a matter of finding yourself, at least not for me. There's no such thing, in my mind. It implies that you're static and just playing hide and seek. We as people are constantly changing- our views, our opinions, our realities and there is no better way of challenging yourself than spending time abroad. It's about being taken out of your safe life and dropped into the unfamiliar. When I think back on where I was a year ago, it was crucial that I came to Korea. No other country in Asia would have allowed me the same experience. I left Canada feeling disgusted with the state of the world. I looked around me, in one of the world's wealthiest countries and saw University students struggling through with minimal student loans. I saw homeless people that clearly should have been institutionalized. I saw myself working a crappy union job, where my co-workers kept assuring me that if I stayed thirty years like they had, I would enjoy equal rights. When I visited Calgary on my way here, I was shocked by what my old home had become. Big city problems had moved in and for the first time I didn't feel safe in downtown Calgary. I looked around and saw ten times the number of homeless than before the big boom. I saw more hard drugs. I saw more vandalism. I needed to see something different to show me that the whole world wasn't in such a desperate state. Being in Korea has been so refreshing. The subways are free of graffiti and trash- immaculately clean despite the absense of garbage cans. The incredible sense of respect that defines Korean culture makes it such a sharp contrast to Canada. Big screen TVs sit in public areas- no one even dreaming of stealing them. Heaps of bicyles in the street are unlocked. Young people quickly stand up to give their elders a seat on the subway- the seats for the elderly and handicapped remain empty in a crowded car. In some parts of Korea, in fact, they've had to install new signs to include pregnant women because even they were standing next to the empty seats. The tremendous respect and pride that Korean people have in their country has been so refreshing. It was exactly what I needed to see. There are still problems here- their hold on traditional ways has prevented feminism from really being successful. Corporal punishment is still acceptable in schools, and being Korean still means having two parents- both of whom are Korean. But these are all areas in which Korea can move forward, can change. I'm not sure about Canada. It seems that we have to move backwards to fix our problems. We need to move back and admit that maybe it is beneficial to have a parent at home. Maybe we try to pack too much into our lives and that is why we've lost a connection with our families. All those therapists make a killing off of telling us that the root of all problems is in the family. So why aren't we fixing it? There's a lot of talk and not a whole lot of action, as far as I can see. When will we stop asking why kids are getting fatter and fatter and just kick them outside to play with a soccer ball? When will we realize that despite all our talk of the enviroment, we're really slow on making any changes?

I'll soon be leaving Korea- taking with me a new knowledge of this very different culture. I know that some things will be very hard to adjust to in Canada. I might have my purse stolen a few times because I'll forget that that happens. I'll be really annoyed that my cell phone doesn't work on the metro, despite the fact that I pay five times more for the service than I do here. I'll be upset that Starbucks doesn't charge a deposit for the cup and that the depanneur doesn't charge for the plastic bag. The lack of street food will undoubtedly upset me. Where will I get my egg sandwiches? Even if I could get them, they wouldn't be a dollar. On the other hand, I look forward to enjoying a pizza without corn and sweet potato. I'm looking forward to seeing crowds of women smoking in the streets of Montreal, since it's the only place you can smoke now. I'm excited to get back and see so many nationalities around me and hear so many languages. I can't wait to have a good cup of coffee.