Waiting and Waiting and Waiting Some More.

Posted on August 26, 2015 by baileysaywhat Standard 2

I wanted to wait to blog until after tomorrow, my first Second City class, because that’s what I’m here for, right? I’m so excited I could barf. I’m so terrified I could barf.

But I wanted to blog about this feeling (not the barf one), the waiting. The ‘just wait’ season I’m in is about to end and I’m so glad because I am not great at it. I feel like Rapunzel in Tangled just dancing around my hair jungle and asking my stuffed totoro “When will my life beginnnnnnn?!”

I finished my job at K. Hogwarts on May 31, spent June in Japan and Korea, traveling, saying goodbye, etc. July 1 I flew home, fought a WWE bout with jetlag, loved on/with my family and friends, and flew to Tulsa on July 22, seeing folks, driving to Little Rock on the 24th to chill with my friend family and finally, driving to Chicago with Michael on July 31.

I’ve spent August pretty much just…sitting. It is the worst. It’s great to sit for a weekend. It’s great to vacation for a week. Or two. But having spent 3 months (THREE MONTHS!) now not working, not having structure, not having a patch of space that is mine mine mine is…exhausting. Which is probably the most pathetic first-world problem ever, says I, a white woman sitting in a Starbucks and blogging on a $2500 laptop.

But it’s true. I moved out of my Korea apartment on June 6, and since then, have stayed in people’s apartments and houses, and I’m so grateful, truly. I am just tired of traveling out of suitcases (even though I have stuff hung up in my place now), and I want to just have my space to hang stuff on the walls, eat off of dishes I haven’t seen in 2 years, laugh/cry about what I thought was worth saving before I emigrated.

Since I have had almost nothing on my calendar, I’ve become a weird, nocturnal squirrel. Probably more like a gremlin, if we’re being honest, since I like to eat after midnight and do occasionally shower. I go to sleep anywhere from 3-4:30, waking up from 11-12 (once, 12:45), and I don’t consider myself fully awake until 1-2pm. Which is ok on a Saturday or vacation, but other humans don’t subscribe to my hours, so I find myself watching unhealthy amounts of Criminal Minds, convinced someone is going to kidnap me from my basement room; I talked to Kevin, the dog of the people I’m staying with, holding long conversations about how much poop we could fit in the plastic bags I was carrying (hers, not mine); I probably have enough frequent flyer points at Walgreens to open my own franchise; you get it, I get it…

HOW I LOOK SO GOOD

I AM BORED, PEOPLE. BORED. And I realize that it’s no one’s fault but my own–I’ve ventured out to get a library card (nerd), walk the dog, get groceries, explored the Broadcast museum downtown (free admission AND free Rice Krispie treats, can I get a HELL YES [also, nerd]), walked the dog some more, fallen in love with Matthew Gray Gubler’s muppet-isms, had some beers with a couple of new and re-activated friends, picked up dog poop in bathtub, ordered weird stuff online (including your birthday present, Brianna, YAY!), Skyped people I love and miss, laundry from sitting around in own filth, this list sounds impressive except its been FOUR WEEKS of this.

But finally, it seems about to change. Classes at SC start tomorrow, I just signed paperwork for a job that starts on Friday…finally I have a reason to get out of the house before 9am…I’m just ready to go. To try the damn thing that I moved from Korea to do.

YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!! *pumps fist*

“Bailey, What The Hell Are You Doing Over There?”

Posted on June 24, 2015 by baileysaywhat Standard 2

This is a great question, person who didn’t ask–let me suss it out for you. I finished up my 2 years at K.Hogwarts on May 31st, and ever since then, I’ve been fighting crime in Gotham in a non-form-fitting suit.

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I spent my first week of freedom cleaning out my apartment and lazing around eating popsicles in the relentless heat while delivering my previously acquired goods to their new owners and trying to not cry about separation anxiety with my yoga matt that I used exactly 4 times. I moved my 3 suitcases plus hanger-ons to my friend’s apartment, where I camped out until Monday morning, when I left for 10 days in Japan. More about Pokemon land in a later post, though.

I returned from Japan a week ago, and, well…pretty much…not doing too much. I previously asked YMKCW to buy my school-paid-for flight home for July 1 to spend time with friends and travel ~~and make out with boys~~ and do a whirlwind Korea bucket list like finally visit the DMZ, eat patbingsu ((팥빙수, a shaved ice treat in summer) and stuff myself full of enough kimchi to last me a lifetime of healthy lady bits.

But thanks to MERS, Korea has kind of shut down…a lot. My co-workers at K.Hogwarts have had almost the entire month of June (and most of July) with very few or no students, giving them either paid desk time or unpaid free vacation time to travel the world. What a great time to have quit, huh? DMZ tours are currently cancelled, and the apartment at which I’m staying has no wifi. So…what do I do all day?

I get my hair cut the shortest it’s been since second grade. I got gel nails. I put a purple streak in my hair. I changed my nose ring to a hoop. I got my eyebrows waxed. I meet friends for final coffee dates and batting cages and goodbye drinks at our favorite bars. I sneak up to Seoul for a night and do stand up comedy and don’t suck 100% at it. I powered through “Orange Is The New Black” season 3 in 2 days. I start watching “Game of Thrones,” since everyone won’t shut up about it. I unpack and repack my suitcases and eat foods that I won’t see again. I see Jurassic World alone in 4D. Because I’m a put together woman who can handle life alone.

I take really long walks to nowhere. I journal. And cry. I cry a lot, guys. I’m crying in parks as couples walk by hand in hand. I’m crying as I walk everywhere. I’m crying in sunglasses at 8pm at night like an asshole, walking downtown. I’m crying sitting alone at Suseong Lake during a light show. I’m laughing, snot coming out my nose, as I rip a fist-sized hole in the butt of my leggings during said light show when I try to switch seats and don’t see the nail sticking out of the ground and thank the Lord I had a scarf around my neck to work into some bizarre, weirdo-style. Then I walked some more, listlessly. I cried on the metro on line 3 since I only got to ride it twice. I curl myself into a sweaty ball under the covers and do that ugly cry, where you sob uncontrollably, the kind of thing you hope no one ever sees but you so desperately want someone to hold you. Because I’m not a put together woman who can handle life alone.

And I know I’m not actually alone. I know you guys are all around, whether in person here in Korea, or via the internet, or soon to be seen in America or even if I’ve never met you. It’s not my first time feeling these feelings–April 2013 was pretty much the same–about to leave Arkansas for the scary, K-pop fueled land of Korea and feeling my heart ripping wide open, showing all the pink and bleeding bits. And, as The Script has told us, “when a heart breaks it don’t break even” and they are not wrong.

I’m not sure what stage of grief I’m in, but I’m hurting guys. I remember standing in the bathroom on my Korean Air flight on May 25, 2013, one fist holding on desperately to my t shirt and the other shoved in my mouth, trying to hold back sobs as I realized that I didn’t know when (or if) I would see my family and friends again. And I have a sneaking suspicion that on July 1, 2015, I’ll be on a Delta flight to Seattle in the same position, mourning and trying not to frighten the flight attendants as my heart breaks again with Chewbacca-like sobs in a 2 foot bathroom.

Should I have booked my flight for July 1? I don’t know. Thinking about how I could be home right now with my family is both exhilarating (family! hugs! home cooking!) and scary (not in Korea, not coming back for who knows how long, leaving people). Can’t change the flight now, and today is one week from departure date. 7 days left. I’m going to eat so much food that I’ll be peeing 고추장.

I know this isn’t probably the happy-go-lucky-crazy-fun-Bailey-story-time that you guys are used to, but I’ve never lied to you yet about emotional, painful stuff, and this is kind of where my heart is at. I’ll update later this week about Japan and the Pikachu good times so you’re not worried…too much.

My name is Alyssa Bailey, and I’m grieving. Send puppies.

Baguio, Baby! Reincarnated Dogs and Questionable Meats

Posted on June 21, 2015 by baileysaywhat Standard 2

So, I’m as bad as a network season finale cliffhanger for that last post, am I right? “I’ll post tomorrow,” I said. It’s only been (counts on fingers)…it’s been more than “tomorrow.” My bad. I have excuses, but most of them are flimsy and since y’all all WHEN YOU GON’ UPDATE, sit your Bellatrix selves down for the rest of the #PhilippinesAdventure.

You’ll recall that day 1 in the Philippines, was, to use the colloquial, a shit show. I was seriously looking into tickets back to Korea that night, but I didn’t want to face the peanut gallery of “WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST GO TO EL NIDO I TOLD YOU I TOLD YOU I TOLD YOU” and since I am a dumb woman who repeatedly forgets that pride goeth before the shit falleth, I couldn’t have that.

I asked my new AirBNB host, Nick, for some advice, and what I got was advice AND DINNER, y’all. At a place that was like “The Hangover,” pre-hangover.

AND HE PAID. Yes, y’all. This dude definitely paid more for my dinner than I paid at his hotel. And it was crazy delicious. He (and his business partner) both recommended that since my first choice place of Sagada was supposed to be raining all week, I should try for Baguio, which was “just 5.5 hours away.”

My main goal in this unplanned trip to the Philippines was to relax and unwind and just be around green things, which, in a nutshell, was what it was like in Jeju for me just 5 days before, and they assured me that Baguio was like that, and they had contacts there. So I folded myself in half in a tricycle, YES a trike, and went to the bus station. I then proceeded to think “don’t pee don’t pee don’t think about peeing you definitely don’t have to pee, you’ve never peed in your life” for the next 5.5 hours, which I am sure my sister the nurse would not be proud of.

Watching the scenery go by, I saw more and more green, making my heart excited. However, I’ve got to tell you guys that the ratio of Celine Dion songs I heard to hours I spent on that bus was just unreal. I was in love with the guy next to me by the time our ride was finished. Upon arriving to Baguio, I checked into my new AirBNB place and promptly got rained on. But the view, even in the rain, was magnificent.

Originally, I’d just planned on staying 2-3 days in Baguio, and getting ideas for somewhere else. But, like all places, there were people that changed my mind. My new AirBNB place was hosted by Robert, who was convinced that his dog, Bruno, was reincarnated and could tell bad people (barking) from good people (no barking), and that since Bruno and I got along like gangbusters, I was a good egg. Just look at this fool, who clearly has superpowers.

Robert fed me, answered questions, and let me just chill and be myself on his balcony for hours. I also met 4 girls who lived in the house–they are from neighboring provinces and are in Baguio for jobs/training/schooling for a temporary time, and they are awesome–they took me to night market, to bars, on walks, and got me to eat new foods, all while chatting and talking about life. They completely made my trip worth it.

I ended up spending 5 days in Baguio–and I have to say, I never anticipated in my life being crammed into a Toyota 4 Runner taxi with 4 Filipino girls, eating corn kernels that were coated with macaroni cheese dust out of a plastic cup, and rocking out to “Gangster’s Paradise.” Sometimes when you just let the journey take to the weirdest places, it treats you to pretty wonderful experiences.

Highlights in Baguio:

-The night market–at 11pm they close down one of the main streets in Baguio for a clothing, shoes, and trinkets free for all that is manic and wonderful and super cheap. You should all know that I really restrained myself in not buying you all vintage Nike tees. And then I ate some weird foods that I’m still not sure about.

-Maryknoll Ecological Sanctuary–aka one of the weirder things I did in Baguio and I…I’ll just show you some pictures. This is touted as a garden, and as I was here to see green things, it seemed logical…To start with, this is how this starts:

YES. Am I right?! I swear, if there was just a weed scent, this would be right at home in the Pacific Northwest. This place/garden has a “history of the world” theme, and it did not disappoint with the weirdness. There were dinosaur eggs, mini-caves, and even weirder religious motifs. I wished so bad that RoyGene had been there to livetweet it with me, because it was glorious. Also, there *were* beautiful flowers, but I was too lost in the hilarity of strange.

-Mines View Park–WE DON’T NEED NO STINKING BADGES to look at a bunch of hills that once had mines that produced valuable stuff. Not the most exciting pit stop, but a cool view indeed.

-The Mansion–aka where the President goes to get away from the oppressive heat of everywhere else in the Philippines. I know it looks like the gates to Arkham, but I swear this is the summer white house.

I returned to Korea, a little wiser and with mostly healed cheesy thunder thighs, and missing the one guy who knows me inside and out: Bruno. I mean, seriously, look at this fluff basket. He knows what’s up.

TL;DR: #PhilippinesAdventure

So if you go to the Philippines, either 1) plan better then I did or 2) just go to El Nido already and you’ll probably love it. I don’t regret going on my journey of strange, as it’s made for some awesome and horrific stories but I could have saved a lot of hours and several inches of chewed of fingernails if I’d planned better. But the Filipino people made my trip a glorious bag of experiences and for that, I’m pretty damn grateful.

Next post: How to end your job ~~gracefully without crying~~, by Not Me, #JapanAdventure and OWLS. Yes, Anderson Cooper, OWLS.

Unemployment Day 1: Let’s talk about Cheesy Thunder Thighs

Posted on June 1, 2015 by baileysaywhat Standard 2

It was with the happiest, Disney-villain gusto that I woke up at 9:24 this Monday morning to no alarm. No dulcet tones of BigBang’s “BaeBae” (it’s grown on me, guys), no “Cruella DeVil” 5-minutes-before-the-bus-leaves-get-yo’-ass-UP alarm, nothing. It’s like vacation BUT IT WILL LAST FOREVER or at least until August-ish. I hope. You know what time it is, y’all, it’s time to:

I’m curled up in the mothership, enjoying a horse-sized iced vanilla latte after going to the bank and transferring money home LIKE AN ADULT (after staying in bed until 11:47am LIKE A CHILD), and I feel good. Sure, this latte cost as much as the cab ride over to this side of town but I’m happy with it.

LOOK AT HER SEXY VANILLA CURRRRRVES.

It’s so strange to think that there’s nowhere I need to be. I have these 5 days to move stuff out of my apartment and into suitcases/friends’ caves before I leave for Japan for 10 days next Monday. I have no idea what I’m doing in Japan, which is a terrible/wonderful thing according to my Philippines vacation 2 weeks ago, wherein I landed at 11pm and my AirBNB host went COMPLETELY AWOL and I was stranded, sticking out like the tall, sweaty, uberwhite uberwomensch that I am.

But we’ll get to the Philippines in the next post. Right now, I need to back up and tell you about winning the field of dreams of Jeju while getting fantastically maimed.

It was Thursday, May 16, and I had just landed in Jeju for my second “Jeju Furey Beach Volleyball Tournament,” where my team’s name was “William Shatner Face” (say it 3 times fast and you’ll get where our minds were at), where we sweat, sunburned, got bit by a host of radioactive spiders, and I got scalding cheese on my lady bits AND THAT WAS JUST THE FIRST NIGHT. Here’s a visual of what was dropped on me:

You know like, when you get fajitas and it’s all steaming and they’re like, “do not touch this hot metal thing in the middle of the wood trough we brought you human piglets?” Yeah. Like that. Dancing front the table onto my uncovered, lily-white, Snow White-esque upper thighs and into the stuff of LEGENDS. If you’ve figured out the gist of our team name, just imagine the kind of jokes we made of THIS incident–which, by now, is past the “blistering fields of delicious, cheesy thigh pain” phase and into “Pink post-surgical scar where they hid the drug-filled condoms” phase, aka it’s definitely almost healed. Also, I artfully hid the burns in following picture because Photoshop.

Friday was spent on the southern side of the island as I got my tourist self on and visited all 3 big waterfalls of Seogwipo and wrote a lot in a journal and had generally awesome solo white girl travel times ~~while sipping on tea and meeting Mr. Darcy~~ and then traveling on a bus full of 35 high school boys practicing their English on me “YOU LIKE DRAKE?!”

I really loved these places, chock-full of tourists (like me) as they were. There’s just no bullshitting with a waterfall. It’s not a museum or a monument or something man-made. It’s powerful and peaceful at once. The color of the water here is just unreal. It feels like you ran into a Totoro tunnel and came out in a different world where your other worries and cares are gone. I could have sat for hours except rocks are not the most comfortable seats, y’know? But if you are lucky enough to get to Jeju, screw any other tourist spots (except maybe climbing Hallasan, which I have not done:( but heard is also naturally wonderful) and just get to these waterfalls and bathe in their serenity.

Saturday began volleyball times. I’d played with a different team last October and had only met one member of my new team, so you know I made a great first impression with le cheesy thighs of power and grace. We slowly warmed up on Saturday, getting to know each other’s positions and strengths and alcohol tolerances. I’m very proud to say that I drank an entire bottle of Hallasan soju (한라산 소주) in a scant 6 minutes and 43 seconds, beating everyone else on my team and establishing myself as alpha wolf of the drunk tank.

After a restless, sleep-ish night, we went on to win our bracket/division and I promptly ran my championship exhausted ass into the ocean and waved at you guys…what, didn’t you hear me? from the sandy, gorgeous, alcohol-infused sands of Hamdeok Beach.

It’s my second time going to this tournament, and both times, it was stupid fun. The typhoon of last October and the glorious weather of this round, the people who I recognized and those who remembered me as “Dan Quick’s friend,” it was all awesome. Thanks to the other members of the heroin centipede (really, you don’t want to know) and here’s to cheesy thunder thighs forever.

Bonus pics:

*post ocean run WHY WAS THE TIDE OUT THE WATER WAS SO SO FAR AWAY model look*

*Sunday morning 6:30am sunrise. Magical.*

*Hamdeok Beach being a lovely little volcanic wench*

*I might have had a ~~slight little~~ extreme sports crush on this Korean guy’s skills*

Next time: Adventures of Ma’am in the Philippines!

5 Korean Husbands. 13,000 Fans. And Me.

Posted on May 7, 2015 by baileysaywhat Standard 1

Through a magical twist of timing and fate, my favorite Korean boyband, BigBang (yes, I know, people, I have betrayed my NSYNC roots hard) had their first comeback in 3 years and first concert in Korea in over a year, last weekend. The weekend before last. April 25-26, in Seoul. Naturally, I was ready to leave some bodies in the streets in my quest to see them live.

I enlisted one of my Korean co-workers, Ara, to help me, and we made plans to go to a Starbucks and buy the tickets. But that didn’t happen; another friend recommended a PC Bang (bang=baang=room, aka what we would probably call an internet cafe), where the internet connection is super fast due to all the people playing MMORPGs and trolling the respawn, Jeremy. We planted among the horde of unwashed college guys screaming creative curses while playing “League of Legends” (also known as just “LOL” here) and pulled up the ticket-buying website, G-Market. Ara and I looked like totally out of place with our work clothes and ovaries.

We pulled up a clock and the website and then proceeded to fight thousands of other people for seats. By that I mean that EVERY SINGLE ONE we clicked on that was free, disappeared immediately? Our conversation was “yes!” “gone” “none” and “ahhhhhhh…” Finally after about 15 minutes, we found one on the 3rd floor and we were both shouting “BUY BUY BUY” among the curse-hurling, ramen-eating college boys. I was elated: it was really happening.

I spent the next 2.5 weeks preparing emotionally and physically for this concert: bought train tickets, booked AirBNB, and purchased an external battery so my iOS stuff could just keep going and going and going. Friday, April 24 couldn’t come fast enough–so I jumped on the train with a dream and a cardigan (a yellow one. The cardigan. Not the dream).

I arrived in Seoul and made my way to the AirBNB and had some potato wedges and take-out beers whilst watching kids screaming for their mothers across the lake at Lotte World amusement park. I found myself waking up at 7:30 the next morning to start the process of sexy-ifing myself. Which of course took less than 5 minutes. You know what Tae and I are about.

I headed over to Olympic Park early to get in line to pick up some merch for friends and found myself in line for 3 hours…alone…surrounded by Japanese, Chinese, Korean and Vietnamese speakers. It was a multicultural love fest of sharing umbrellas and interacting on Twitter with other shameless BB lovers.

After the line came some lunch, then waiting, more waiting and then finally, I got in line as we heard the thumping bass sounds of dress rehearsal. We got in and I found my nosebleed seat on the 3rd floor, section 33, #231.

And then, at 6:34pm, April 25, the BigBang 2015 Comeback began.

Glorious, dorkery. And then I went back the next day, to suffer through standing, pushing, rib-cracking, fainting women for a chance to see these idiots’ faces.

Notes:
-standing area tickets are like volunteering to be tribute to die in the arena but there are no hot Hemsworths. I have never been so sweaty for a non-sport event, ever. It was like a sauna that you paid obscene amounts of money for. I saw at least 10 people lifted out of JUST MY SECTION for fainting.

-Their video teasers and filler videos were AMAZING. I was so impressed; the Sergio Leone vibe was strong in music, in the look and style and the Tarantino influence was tangible and awesome. I would just flat-out buy the music from them. So impressed.

-YG Entertainment does not play around with photos/video. I had the girl next to me pulled the first night and they deleted all her photos/videos and let her come back. Another girl on Twitter said she got pulled from standing and was forced to delete everything AND kicked out. That said, I felt for our section’s security guy, who was jumping on the barrier screaming in Korean to put our cameras down. I wanted to pat him on the back like “you tried, bro. There was no stopping us, but we know you tried. Nyah, nyah nyah.”

-The concert was awash with their hits; opening with “Fantastic Baby” and running through “How Gee,” favorites like “Haru Haru” and “Cafe” as well as the VIP anthem, “Lies.” Each member did a 1-song solo stage (with the exception of Seungri, who had 2 songs/a mashup) and I got to dance along with people who knew every.single.lyric.

-you really can see all of their faces and joy watching fans sing along with them. It really was cool to see them respond and point at people, to throw water on fans and towels and then take their mics away to hear us sing *their* lyrics back to them.

-These idiots are hilarious and put on a huge, big, insane show, and I am so, so glad I went. I know it was a lot of money, but I tried to remember–when am I ever going to do this again?! Thanks to everyone on Twitter (@alyssa_bailey), Snapchat (baileysayswhat) and Insta (@a_bailey) for the love and translations! Until whenever, VIP nerds.

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PS: Taeyang. Stop trying to steal me from TOP, you thankful little shit. King of fan service, indeed.

Pre-Grieving

Posted on April 22, 2015 by baileysaywhat Standard 3

I should be home by now. In fact, I’m sure my coworkers are already snug in their Woobang nests. Instead I got off downtown for 2 fake errands…and I can’t really tell you why I did it.

I guess I’m starting to get nostalgic.

Which…is dumb, because I’m still here, right? I have over a month to go. It’s like I’m pre-grieving someone or something that hasn’t died yet. But I feel it slipping through my fingers. Another week went by, then another, and another and it’s already almost the end of April.

I’m sitting in a cafe I’ve never been in that has open-air windows and I’m on the second floor, overlooking one of the busiest intersections downtown. Couples, kids, couples with kids, college students in letterman’s jackets (although I couldn’t tell you what on earth they lettered in), high school kids in their dark colored uniforms, and the occasional sore thumb foreigner walking by.

The weather is gorgeous, 68 degrees (20 for y’all metric/celsius normals) right now, at 7:44pm. There’s a slight breeze and there’s lights everywhere still. I’m facing another coffee shop (sans open-air windows, BOO), and I see 2 no, FOUR cellphone stores from my vantage point. Is it creepy to people watch this much?

I think 98% of all the dudes walking by are drop-dead beautiful. I wonder if I will find Korean guys so heart-stoppingly lovely when I’m not surrounded by them 24/7. Sorry, all Korean guys. I’m watching you. You’re gorgeous. Don’t worry about stereotypes. If someone doesn’t want you or doesn’t like “Asians” then they are the idiots, not you. That said, try not to be dicks to women about their weight/looks (not that you all do that). It’s ok if you’re not into a certain type; just say someone’s not your style. Don’t be an asshole and point out exactly what it is. You’re not all Kim Woo Bin either. And if you *are* Kim Woo Bin, just. Message me. I’d like to punch you on the shoulder like a 8-year old boy on the playground and pull your pigtail and shout “I LOVE YOU” and then run away and tweet about our moment forever.

I’m eavesdropping on all these conversations right now. I understand zero of them. I’m sitting with one headphone in and frantically typing this nonsense, looking busy. I look totally professional, right? RIGHT? I wish I could understand; I pick up words and verbs here and there but I’m like level 1-2. I know, I’ve been here 2 years and my Korean is still shit, despite all the kids being like “TEACHER YOU KOREAN SPEAK WELL” and my frantic “Shhhh don’t let a Korean adult hear that I”m talking Korean to you in class” mode.

I’m so deep into pre-grieving that I’m looking into grad schools in Seoul despite the fact I’m A) definitely going to Chicago for at least a year to study at Second City Improv and B) I don’t even know what I would *want* to study. I’m all “I would maybe spend thousands of dollars on that major, sure, or maybe that one,” which obviously makes a lot of sense.

I hate this part. The tearing apart part. I put it off for so long that I pretty much just bleed when it happens. There’s no slow tapering off. It is violent and gross and I’m kind of worried how I’m gonna be those first few weeks back. Leaving Arkansas…I mean, it’s been two years and I still miss most of them with all of me. I sent them dorky care packages full of weird makeup samples and even weirder socks, and they returned the favor. Sure, the magic of technology keeps us tenuously connected, but it’s not the same. And I’m going to miss THESE idiots (lovely idiots) fiercely. I’m already planning on spending my weeklong Philippines vacation next month just sitting in an hammock writing thank you/goodbye letters to everyone (and that’s a lot of everyones). Or maybe I’ll just kidnap you all and put you in my suitcases. I’ll poke air holes.

I know in my sad, sad, banana strawberry smoothie-filled heart that its time to go, though. Today I was walking to class and one of our Korean staff leaders asked me to take part in a group picture that I had no part of. In that, I didn’t know nor was I interacting with this tour group all day, they just wanted a foreigner face in their group shot. And I got so…angry. Just immediately, 1-60mph/96kph anger. We jumped over irritation immediately. In the past, I wouldn’t have minded. And I wasn’t having a bad day; I was doing ok. I was just immediately DONE. It was like “do you not see me walking to class? Do you think I must just be free since you see me?! WHO DISTURBS MY WALKING SLUMBER?!” And of course my customer service self said “sure” but when I walked away after the picture I looked at our Chinese intern and we both made the most irked bitch face at each other about it. And 20 minutes later, our photographer is in my classroom for 5 minutes taking “action shots” as I have a rude posse of 6th-graders ignoring me and I almost asked him to leave (super faux pas) before I yelled in Konglish.

DGEV has been a good part of my life the last 2 years. I’ve learned a ridiculous amount of slang/Korean and met wonderful people both Korean and foreign, I’ve learned that I can handle just about anyone for 45 minutes and that I’m ok in front of crowds of people I don’t know. I didn’t think it was possible after working retail, but I’m even more comfortable introducing myself to seriously, anyone. Bus, street, doctor’s office, doesn’t matter–there’s always someone in your face asking “where are you from?” since the answer clearly isn’t “here.”

In a glorious way, I’ll probably never be rude to an immigrant again. Not that I think I was…I just now would have more grace with people. Being an immigrant/non-native you guys–it’s like pulling your skin off everyday. You’re putting yourself in an uncomfortable environment BY CHOICE and saying “I will make it work and I will become a better person through this.”

I’ll never forget in my last 2 weeks at the fruit retailer, a guy came in and asked for “Opis.” I was like, “I’m not sure what that is, can you repeat it?” “Opis, OPIS.” *thinking* “Is it an acronym? I can google it for you” and he’s frantic, loudly saying “OPIS OPIS for computer, OPIS” and I’m like “can you spell it for me I must be doing this wrong” and he then turned and his eyes lit up when he pointed at a yellow box on our shelf that said “Microsoft Office.” A half-second later I realized, having read Roy-Gene’s post about f/p sounds for Korean ESL learners (wherein he found out that his hospital Visa visit “check finished” was definitely not “check penis”) that this guy was Korean and just wanted Microsoft Word and I was just in the way.

I cannot tell you the THOUSANDS of Korean people who have had buckets, mountains of grace with me. I accidentally swear in Korean, I mispronounce, I use the wrong level of honorific (or none at all) and they are unending in grace. They laugh at my bad jokes and over exuberance at K-Pop. They try their best to use English with me and walk me far, far out of their way to help me get where I’m going (even if I just got lost around the corner). They help me buy tickets and text cute boys and box up my groceries so they won’t be squished on the bus. So helpful.

Maybe I could have gotten away with more time here. Maybe I could just change jobs and stay in Daegu. Or make the big leap to Seoul and do comedy with some of the Stand up Seoul people there–who are equally awesome. Maybe. But right now, I know that DGEV has been a good chapter, but the DGEV chapter just has a few pages left.

I don’t have words for how nervous I am about this Second City chapter. It’s scary and weird and what if I can’t make it in America anymore? I might now be as funny as many of you have said, but I want to try. I want to be a shriveled up, awesome old woman in sequins saying at least I tried it and didn’t wonder “what if”—OH MY GOD I just want to be Betty White, don’t I?! Well, that just clicked. But anyways, improv…I think it’s like Korea. I’m throwing myself somewhere uncomfortable and saying “I choose to make this work for me and I will become a different, better person through it.” Or at least look cool while trying.

You are not perfect, Korea. Nowhere is. But you have been very, very good to me. You’re trusted me with your children, with your time, with a very lovely sum of money. You write English on your signs for me and smile when you see me like I’m someone famous. You’ve let me eat your food, blog about you and fall in love with your people. Thank you. I mean, I doubt Park Geun Hye would read this, and if she did, that it would mean much, but it’s been very, very good, and I’m grateful.

I’d like to come back sometime. If you and Kim Woo Bin would have me.

Thingamabobs (you know, I got 20).

Posted on April 1, 2015 by baileysaywhat Standard Reply

In the words of my Korean non-husband (WHO IS HAVING A COMEBACK ANNOUNCED TODAY), “long time no see long time no see.”

Here’s what you missed in the last 4 months on “Glee:”

Pizza Hut is the husband I tried to cheat on with McDonald’s, the evil, non-delivering, dicks and yet Pizza Hut lovingly takes me back like Hosea’s wife and delivers me gorgeous, glorious pizza with no trauma or difficulty or Korean. Website here❤
me trying to teach kids how to say “freckles” and explaining it in Korean only to discover I’ve been saying “줄넘기 (julnumgi aka jump rope) instead of “주근깨 (jugeunggae aka freckles)” FOR MONTHS. MONTHS. “Hey kids, look at all the cute jump ropes ON YOUR FACE.” Not nightmare-inducing at all, I’m sure.
getting into an existential crisis about how I’m now Korean 29 years old (read this for why) and I’m like one foot in Ms. Havisham territory despite the fact I TURNED 27 JUST 3 MONTHS AGO. I’ve slid over into the mental block of being 29 and I can’t claw back out.
doing one of those quizzes where you put your music on shuffle and answer questions to only get “This song describes how you will die: Too Much Food-Jason Mraz” and “This song will play at your wedding: Rollin’ Home Alone – Jason Lytle” which is unacceptable and hence I’m never playing again because my iTunes is clearly out to get me and artists named “Jason” are dicks.
met a guy from Bellingham who went to Sehome High School on my birthday in Seoul at a random, hole-in-the-wall bar and he kissed me on the cheeks 3x as he told me to smell a fir tree for him when I went home (I did).
I’ve been writing down my dreams and you guys, you should all try this. There are some real gems, such as “at one point I reached up and touched his right bicep as part of the dance. then we took a weird group photo where someone sat on me and i was their legs. ” as well as “i was at first on horseback and we were like, trying to catch a old murder/solve on a and were riding down the hill behind the now food pavilion in lynden. […] then other people came and i fake slit my own throat and laid down in the water and watched what they did.” Just…even weirder things going on in my sleep, guys.
I need to throw out a shoutout to O’Fallon Brewery for spotting me a 6pack, and my former co-worker John Mitchell for draggin it over halfway around the world. I told none of my other fiends about this because you best believe I gollum’d those real hard and told NO ONE MY PRECIOUSES WHEACH BEER JUST FOR ME.
Just was gifted some gummy bears from a student and the bag said “made with real fruit juice” and let me tell you that is a nightmare waiting to happen. I used to work on a raspberry harvester and when the season is done and limping out with its’ tail between it’s legs, that’s when you do “juice” barrels (or some farms just do juice only). If you’re lucky, there’s a sorter sitting there throwing out the weirdest stuff (dead birds, worms, plastic bread ties, mold, unsolved CSI mysteries), but usually, there’s not. They are literally pulling blood from whatever turnips (raspberries or whatever else) go across the belt. So the next time you see “made with real fruit juice,” you better start hoping you get one of the *good* superpowers.
Saw my first Korean celebrity, “God of Asia” Lee Min Ho, when I went to H&M for a pair of leggings and emerged empty-handed to about 250 people outside the doors looking expectantly towards the black, heavily-tinted bus in the street. I grabbed a passing Korean girl and, gesturing at the bus, asked “누구세요?” (who is it?) and when she replied I shouted “진짜?!” (REALLY?!) in her face like a grown-ass woman clearly in control of her faculties. And let me tell you, it is unfair for him to actually be so good-looking in real life. There is some weird juju going on there. vs
Had an impromptu 8.5-year high school reunion when I was home and everyone is married to everyone else’s somebody and half of the people are showing baby pictures and it was great. Beer and people you used to be afraid of sharing bottomless fries with you is just magical. Also, when you see a guy that 16-year old you had a huge crush on and 27-year old you is still like then you know it’s time to go before you embarrass yourself and his mom (hi Leslie!).
I have less than 2 months left in Korea. I know. It’s weird. I’ve decided to go ahead and pursue a year (at least) of Second City improv comedy training in Chicago. Yeah, dreams! I can’t even tell you exactly what I’m going to do with it, but unless I want to be a shriveled up “what if” grandma wondering about it…I’m going to do it now, before the aforementioned fake Korean husband locks this down. Classes start August 17 and before then I’ll wrap up Korea life, travel to 3-4 Asian countries (Japan, Philippines are locked, possibly also Thailand, Cambodia and/or a Vietnam, China) and then be home for a couple of weeks, Tulsa/Little Rock for a week and then the great migration to the Windy City around August 1.

I’ll let my spirit animal, Adele, close us out.

Fish Fillet O’ LIES: How Korean McDonald’s Delivery Broke My Heart More Than Boys

Posted on March 3, 2015 by baileysaywhat Standard 4

So in Korea, you can order McDonalds AND THEY DELIVER IT TO YOU. These crusaders of goodness mow every pedestrian in their path down to get to you (I know because I appreciate their work ethic from the sidewalk they pushed my face to in their quest for short delivery times).

So now that I’ve approached the twilight phase of this time in Korea, I found myself up at 11:36pm talking to YMKCW (Young Male Korean Co Worker) on Kakao (a messaging app similar to iMessage, but cross platform Android/iOS/PC/Mac), and we were mutually complaining about how hungry we were and I decided I was not truly an expat unless I could figure out how to order McDonalds at an ungodly hour. Despite YMKCW’s (very nice) offer to order for me, I turned him down and turned to the internet because I am a woman who solves her own hankerings for questionable food products, dammit.

I was directed to McDonald’s Korean page, and chose “English” in my tab. And then I chose “Order.” And then the problems started.

WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? Oh. Oh. Wait. What the hell is my address? *frantically scrounges in wallet* Note: I usually get all messages/mail/packages shipped to my school’s address, which I have memorized. I’ve never shipped anything/written my address to my actual apartment down.

Bailey>YMKCW: What’s our address?

YMKCW>Bailey: your address?

Bailey>YMKCW: Yes?

YMKCW>Bailey: you don’t know?

Bailey>YMKCW: I know the region/city/district/neighborhood…

YMKCW>Bailey: I have to look it up

**suddenly runs to kitchen because I realized I HAVE BILLS like an ADULT, y’all, BILLS BILLS BILLS which have my address on them.**

Screen Shot 2015-02-28 at 10.26.04 PM

ITS HAPPENING. I”M DOING THE THING.

Wait. What the hell is this. I JUST WANT TO STUFF MY FACE FULL OF MURDER. What even is this message?! WHY ARE YOU KEEPING ME FROM BEING HAPPY? *PS: do not put these kinds of messages in Google Translate because it is strange as all hell*

PPS: It said something like “please select the proper address we found” aka the blue link in the bottom but I COULDN”T UNDERSTANDS.

Bailey>YMKCW: What *IS* this?! FEED ME ME FEED FOOD BIGBANGBIGBADBIGMAC

YMKCW>Bailey: your address? just click the blue address and then confirm.

And then….finally…the big moment:

How to Sneak Home for Christmas

Posted on January 31, 2015 by baileysaywhat Standard 1

Step 1: ~~Cut a hole in a box~~ Make sure you can actually do it. Check the dates, BUY the ticket and make sure you can get to/from your destination. Without this, all the other steps are just duuuuust in the wind.

Step 2: Find an accomplice. (Ron Weasely level) in this case, my older brother was up in the middle of the night (thank you swing shift/young baby) and so I called him and booked it on the phone and we had a 30-second awkward white kids dance party as I got the confirmation email.

Step 3: Misdirection. Here comes the Hermione Granger level–DETAILS. I told my mom specifically what I was “doing” over the break. “A bunch of teachers from here are going to the Philippines and it’s so much cheaper and I can visit a new country and a beach and yaaaay” and I was totally about it. As she said how hard it would be and how she would miss me I said, “yeah, me too but it will be SUCH an adventure, Mom.” The truth is that several teachers WERE going to the Philippines so I got flight numbers, details, etc. from them to pad my throne of lies. Buy all your stuff using a card/account that your parents are not co-signers on since you live overseas.

Step 4: EXECUTE. Sneak up to Seoul for your birthday (True) and fly out (Secret). Tweet nothing. Facebook nothing. Have Philippines teachers tag you in their posts “LOL going on vacay!!!” Land in Seattle and turn off Location Finder and go full-on Airplane mode on your phone. Go ghost. Text Accomplice that you have arrived; he has already ~~gotten~~ invited himself to dinner at parents’ house. Catch bus. Have Accomplice #2 (sister-in-law) pick you up from bus station. Drive to parents’ house for ‘dinner,’ adding the last push over the cliff text to Mom, “boarding the flight to Manilla, Love you!!” and feel 87% guilty as her reply, “we will miss you but have fun and be safe,” comes back. Have small bubble in stomach as you pass neighbors’ houses. Do not give up now.

Peek head around car and shout “MERRY CHRISTMAS” at your parents who are standing outside greeting Accomplices #1, 2, and Baby Accomplice. Watch their very shocked faces take 3 full seconds to stare at you in the darkness. It will feel like the longest pause of your life thus far. Grow swiftly concerned as mother sinks down to sit on steps and opens her arms because you think “oh my god she’s fainted and this was terrible” but father says “what’s all this?” in that happy voice you know only too well from when he was immensely pleased with you growing up and she didn’t faint but she’s crying so you should probably stop recording this and enjoy the hugs.

Step 5: Bask in the glow of happiness. You are happy. They are happy. The accomplices are happy. The internet is happy for you. The world is happy. Every Christmas song you ever heard was right. Every time you thought about not coming home for Christmas with that peach pit in your gut was right–you’re meant to be here. You might not always have the freedom and funds to do it. But here in this moment, everything in the entire world is gloriously, wonderfully full and whole and perfect.

The Not-So-Blind Date: Part Deux

Posted on October 5, 2014 by baileysaywhat Standard Reply

Scene 2, Friday night, 10/3/14: The curtain rises to show our plucky heroine, BAILEY, at an undisclosed KBBQ joint with THINGS 1 & 2, KOALA, CAPTAIN & MS. MARVEL, TIMBITS, SALSA & BOOTS, DEN MOTHER AND SASSAFRAS. Libations and pork have been flowing, and all is well in the world.

***Text Message YMKCW>BAILEY (see Part 1): hey we are downtown***

***YMKCW>BAILEY: where r u***

***BAILEY>YMKCW: we are at not downtown***

***YMKCW>BAILEY: not coming here?***

***BAILEY>YMKCW: if you want to find us you can come here***

***YMKCW>BAILEY: how many of you there?***

13 minutes later

***YMKCW>BAILEY: we r here***

BAILEY, THINGS 1 & 2, BOOTS, SASSAFRAS, TIMBITS, KOALA and DEN MOTHER run into YMKCW and XX outside a popular bar in the not downtown area. XX is neither 180cm nor a distant relative/resembling BigBang’s T.O.P but looks harmless enough for someone being introduced to a group of foreign women by their unofficial, unelected pimp, YMKCW. An intense game of beer pong begins with BOOTS & BAILEY vs. TIMBITS & THING 1. THING 2, YMKCW, XX, and KOALA arrange themselves around a table. After losing the final cup in a breathtaking finale, BOOTS & BAILEY relinquish the table to XX, DEN MOTHER, SASSAFRA & KOALA and sit around the table.

BAILEY: (leans over to YMKCW) hey.

YMKCW: hey.

BAILEY: So you know this was stupid, right?

YMKCW: what do you mean?

BAILEY: you really shouldn’t ever set someone up on a “blind date” and then say to bring more people.

YMKCW: Why not? You don’t like him, he don’t like you. Its good to have choice.

BAILEY: No. Well, it’s not the worst idea…what do you mean he doesn’t like…never mind. Just don’t say “do you want to go on a blind date” then. Because that means you think these people would be good together and you have put some thought into it. THIS way is like a buffet line of people and I am the cow trying to be the prettiest cow and trying to compete with the other cows not that these women are cows because they aren’t and just this was stupid but what I’m trying to say is that this was a bad idea. It makes me feel not important. If you want your friend to meet your friends and *maybe* they hit it off, ok. No problem. But don’t call it a blind date. Because right now every woman in here wants to hit you, so let me be the first. (hits YMKCW multiple times)

YMKCW: Ok. Sorry. Also, you should not hit me.

BAILEY: Why not? It makes me feel better.

YMKCW: Because you are too strong. Women should not be so strong.

BAILEY: are you saying it hurts?

YMKCW: …yes…

BAILEY: WELL GOOD, ASSHOLE. (hits a few more times for good measure)

MORGAN FREEMAN (enters from wings): Friday night ended like many nights, with BAILEY abusing the shoulders and upper chest of YMKCW and at least 2 more rounds of beer pong with all present. There were hours spent out of the stoop not smoking and gossiping about the employees of the Fortress of Solitude and agreements of how truly socially inept the YMKCW had been with using the hearts and lives of his foreign female friends as well as an actual 2-minute conversation between XX (who was seemingly innocent of all heartless charges even though he did switch seats when BAILEY went to the bathroom and ended up giving THING 1 his business card with instructions to call if she is ever in Seoul and I guess that makes him slightly less innocent) and BAILEY, which resulted in the following selfie where she had stolen his glasses:

The moral of the story, kids, is choose friends who know you for you and care enough to try and fix you up with someone intentionally…not just because you are in your desk at the opportune moment and have the right gender for their random friend that they met at uni in another country and you are so into a K-Pop idol that you would totally believe a blurry selfie from their friend when it is 2014, dammit, it is the AGE OF THE SELFIE there is no reason for that to be blurry and you should know better, you really should. But if you must go, dress so hot that you will burn that man to death for looking at another woman and bring your girls with you for backup dancers so you can toast over his ashes.

We out.

**This is NOT a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are neither the products of the author’s imagination nor used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is not coincidental. Some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals.**

Bailey Say What

Diet Coke. Comedy. Kimchi.

Category Archives: Uncategorized

Waiting and Waiting and Waiting Some More.

“Bailey, What The Hell Are You Doing Over There?”

Baguio, Baby! Reincarnated Dogs and Questionable Meats

Unemployment Day 1: Let’s talk about Cheesy Thunder Thighs

5 Korean Husbands. 13,000 Fans. And Me.

Pre-Grieving

Thingamabobs (you know, I got 20).

Fish Fillet O’ LIES: How Korean McDonald’s Delivery Broke My Heart More Than Boys

How to Sneak Home for Christmas

The Not-So-Blind Date: Part Deux

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