Count 'em
Really, count 'em. My Korean friends. Now, subsiding_leaf gets on my back about this issue all the time. See, I don't have a single Korean friend.
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Back in my high school, there weren't many other East Asians--really, mostly Koreans. I never liked how they all had this inborn compulsion to band together. Clique doesn't even begin to capture what they were like. A hundred little Korean boys and girls, all lined up with the same haircuts, the same clothes, and the same cars. Listening to them talk was like sitting through a remake of Clueless starring Jerry Lewis as the new Cher Horowitz. I never could figure out how they came up with those accents in the first place. It's not like anything you'd hear around the L.A./Glendale area and it certainly wasn't the result of being new to the country, but they all had it (or learned to have it).
New kids straight from the old country would arrive on campus, and be quickly swallowed up by the K-cult. Within a month, you couldn't recognize them, let alone tell them apart from all the other members. Same straightened black hair with blonde highlights, same blue contacts (yeah, because you're really fooling me now), same accent, and dear Lord, those childish voices.
K-cult girls would all adopt the most sickeningly fawning attitudes around the K boys. Everyone was their fucking oppa and Oma GAH, haji-maaaaa. From the outside, they just looked like this huge incestuous family, and I didn't particularly feel the need to join in on the Ma and Pa fondling fun.
For two short weeks, I was a part of that group. I didn't fall in line with the hair, the hideous makeup, or anything that they used to announce their K-dom. I can't say that I didn't get along with them, although only one of them really seemed to accept me. I can't say it was all boring either. But in the end, our short time together was no different than those instances when I pick up an issue of a mainstream fashion magazine. It's a fun break from anything important in life, but faced with an eternity of nothing but, and you'd rather shoot yourself through the eye.
Individuals, I get along with just fine--those who haven't lost themselves to the greater organization, the outcasts. But I just can't seem to find anyone. Always clumped together in purely cult-like fashion. What's a Sundance to do? I mean, not that it matters, but it IS kind of strange to not have one single Korean friend, no?
_________________
Back in my high school, there weren't many other East Asians--really, mostly Koreans. I never liked how they all had this inborn compulsion to band together. Clique doesn't even begin to capture what they were like. A hundred little Korean boys and girls, all lined up with the same haircuts, the same clothes, and the same cars. Listening to them talk was like sitting through a remake of Clueless starring Jerry Lewis as the new Cher Horowitz. I never could figure out how they came up with those accents in the first place. It's not like anything you'd hear around the L.A./Glendale area and it certainly wasn't the result of being new to the country, but they all had it (or learned to have it).
New kids straight from the old country would arrive on campus, and be quickly swallowed up by the K-cult. Within a month, you couldn't recognize them, let alone tell them apart from all the other members. Same straightened black hair with blonde highlights, same blue contacts (yeah, because you're really fooling me now), same accent, and dear Lord, those childish voices.
K-cult girls would all adopt the most sickeningly fawning attitudes around the K boys. Everyone was their fucking oppa and Oma GAH, haji-maaaaa. From the outside, they just looked like this huge incestuous family, and I didn't particularly feel the need to join in on the Ma and Pa fondling fun.
For two short weeks, I was a part of that group. I didn't fall in line with the hair, the hideous makeup, or anything that they used to announce their K-dom. I can't say that I didn't get along with them, although only one of them really seemed to accept me. I can't say it was all boring either. But in the end, our short time together was no different than those instances when I pick up an issue of a mainstream fashion magazine. It's a fun break from anything important in life, but faced with an eternity of nothing but, and you'd rather shoot yourself through the eye.
Individuals, I get along with just fine--those who haven't lost themselves to the greater organization, the outcasts. But I just can't seem to find anyone. Always clumped together in purely cult-like fashion. What's a Sundance to do? I mean, not that it matters, but it IS kind of strange to not have one single Korean friend, no?