It’s so Hard to Say Goodbye
If there was one person that I had to pinpoint as my role model, aside from my parents, it would be my Grandmother (Halmoni). She was an extraordinary woman that really kept her family together through many terrible events. Originally Halmoni and her family lived in North Korea. But when there was news of a potential war between North Korea and South Korea, my halmoni gathered up her eight children and her servants and decided to head to a relative’s house in the south. My granddad was out hanging out with friends he wasn’t part of this mass exodus. However, my halmoni left directions for my granddad to hide in a barrel of rice until the coast was clear. So that is what he did. He stayed in a barrel of rice for 3 days. When the coast was clear, he too found his way to his family.
The thing is, my halmoni was pretty well off in the North, but when she went to the South, she came with virtually no money. So she worked by making rice cakes (dduk) on the street and selling them. This is how she kept all her children and her servants alive. So slowly, she made money and saved up and again had enough to buy a house. She sent about 5 of her children through college. She really ran the household more than my grandfather. If you still can’t picture what kind of woman she is, then go rent Soul Food the movie. She was exactly like Big Mama in the film, minus being black.
Well Halmoni moved to the US in the late 1970’s. Eventually, most of her family moved to the US too in search of more opportunities. Back then, the US was very much known as the Land of Milk and Honey. If you are not familiar with Korean History, let me just say that South Korea was pretty shitty in the 1970s and 1980s. Military coup de tat, shitty economy, etc. Basically, they immigrated to the States just for a chance at a better life. For most of my family however, they didn’t really get to experience the milk and honey that was promised to them. Most of my uncles owned liquor stores in shitty neighborhoods. Well, when I was born, my Halmoni really treated me well. I was her favorite grandkid. Its probably because I was the first born child of her youngest child. I remember liking her more than my own mother many times. My halmoni also showed me how a person should live. Some people have the bible or religion but I had my halmoni.
She lived in an assisted housing program in Downtown LA with my granddad. My granddad was like that cool playa type you see in blaxploitation movies. He was always dressed like a G. He smoked cigarettes out of a pipe. He also drank a glass of Chivas Regal after every meal. My halmoni was always the warm grandmother that always did everything for me. When I was 5, I went to my first taekwondo tournament. I was unbelievably nervous and I kept on going to the side to throw up. Then I remembered what my grandmother always told me. No one in this world is better than you. No one is worse that you. Its all about how much you want it and how much you work for it. Well I did lose that tournament but her words still ring with me today.
I would have to say the saddest moment of my life was in the 8th grade when my beloved halmoni passed away. I felt like the only person that I could count on to be supportive of whatever I wanted to do just left my side. I remember crying profusely at her funeral. But every now and again I see my halmoni in my dreams. She continues to tell me to work my ass off if I want to do anything. So halmoni, I know I haven’t been the good person you always wanted me to be but I want you to know that I still will do my best.
My previous entries have been about my NYC trip and how much fun I had. But that doesn’t me I was completely not annoyed. Richard lives with a couple of roommates and one of them is a complete douche bag. He is wikipedia worthy. Let me back track a little. So whenever I go to NYC, the first couple of days, the first couple of days I spend a lot of time in the shitter. My stomach is not fully ready for the culinary assault. So without fail, I used the apartment’s bathroom with much frequency. To a point, where I used up most of their toilet paper. Since I felt bad for using up their TP, I asked the Dbag roommate if he knew where they had the extra TP. He responded, ” I havent used toilet paper in this apartment in 3 months.” -.- First of all, how does that answer my question. The second thing that came to mind is, fucking gross fucker. How do you not use tp? I guess he saw that I was a little bit bothered by his response so he says have you looked under the sink? I told him that everyone with a bathroom, would put their extra supplies there. Of course I looked first before I looked.
Since I knew this wasnt getting anywhere, I asked him where the nearest CVS is. He said its 3 blocks away. IN WHICH DIRECTION FUCKER! Man, it took every ounce of strength to not sock this dude in the throat. If you are reading this Richard’s Roommate, I hope you learn to have a conversation like a normal human being and not like a complete asswipe. Thanks…
So this second part of the New York trip doesnt involve any standup shows of any kind. Instead, it involves a ton of eating and drinking. I have to give it up to nyc for the good food. So after the wonderful dinner at Rub BBQ, I hung out with my cousin Esther and her friends. First stop was Sidewalk Cafe. We went to meet up more of her friends. Sidewalk Cafe has live music there on certain nights and I guess Saturday was one of those certain nights. The people on stage was a band called Heath Street or something like that. Now Esther’s friend said that they were awesome and hence she wanted to check em out. As they started playing, I was thinking about punching people in the face. I dont know much about music but you gotta at least be in the caliber of Big Phony. These dudes were just not good. After a couple of drinks and 30 minutes of torture, I couldnt take it anymore and went outside. I guess Esther and her friends had the same sentiment because they bounced with me. I dont have any picture of this because well, I hate taking pictures. I guess its because I suck at it.
After the shitty hick music at Sidewalk Cafe, Esther and Company decided to go to a local watering hole called Forbidden City. Apparently the only thing Forbidden about this place was cute girls. For those that have never been to New York, let me say that yes there are a couple of decent looking people BUT on an average they are pretty busted. AND they dont put on makeup. The good thing about this is that you know what these girls look like when they just wake up. But sometimes, I am not in the mood for the “I Just Woke Up” face.
After Forbidden City, I met up with Richard and yes you guessed it, we went to get Hallal Food again.
I would like to stress that this is the best street food I have ever had in my life. I would eat this every day if I could. I wonder why no one sells this shit here in LA. Anyways, we took the food back to his place. I asked him if there was a movie he can put in because I was kinda pored and drunk. Well, he put in a movie. He put in:
Well this past week, I was in NYC. It was damn cold over there. The first day I got there this is what I saw:
Now being the spoiled Cali Boy that I am I was definitely cold. I didnt even want to smoke. The cold wind hit my face and it felt like a dull razor blade was haphazardly shaving my face. It fucking hurt! But my brotha Richard and his homeboy Royce came to pick me up from JFK. If you know about NYC, then you know it is damn rare to have a car there. After they rescued me from the shitty cold they took me to there restaurant.
This place is awesome. I told them to get me anything that is good and they brought the whole damn menu to my table. The sushi is fresh and they got damn good sauces that compliment the sushi. Its just just soy sauce and wasabi. The hostess was pretty cute and the service was dope. But most in portantly, I ate a shit load of sushi! If you are in NYC, I totally recommend Neo Sushi! Tell them I sent you. I am sure they will treat you right.
So after killing myself with food and sake, the boys and I went to some karaoke joint. However, I didnt go in the room to sing. Instead, I sat out and ate the world famous chicken over rice!
This shit is so damn good. Someone on my face book said it looks like dog shit and I say to that person, try it first. Dont knock on it because it looks like that. This mentality is the reason why I dont mind sleeping with ugly chicks. Sure at first glance they may be ugly as sin but they might be the best lay ever. So my message to ugly fat girls out there reading this is, ill fuck ya! yay!
I know you are thinking, didnt he just eat sushi before this. The answer to all those that are inquisitive is that yes I did eat right before. But you cant pass up chicken over rice. The combination is just $6 bucks. Warning: just because you can eat spicy shit dont mean you gotta pour on their hot sauce like siracha. Their hot sauce was imported straight from Satan’s asshole. So I recommend just a couple of drops. For information on Chicken over rice go to http://www.53rdand6th.com/.
So Thursday night was a bit of a blur because I drank a little too much. From sake, to soju, to champagne. I was unbelievably hung over the following day…
This guy is one sexy dude…
