Just say no

Today someone at work asked me to look at a friend's resume and I said no.

I said no!

This, I know, sounds like a big load of nothing to you. But for me, the planets changed course! Stars collided! Galaxies imploded in fits of disbelief!

(So I like to practice my hyperbole skills once in a while -- SUE ME.)

This was my friend Myung-soo, with whom I got my hair cut, and who has been very helpful to me at work. She casually asked if I'd take a look at her friend's resume, as it was only one page and wouldn't take very long.

Alarm bells started ringing very loudly and the voices started up.

-NOOOO. We have enough frickin' work to do without looking at someone's resume for FREE. Crimey, people charge LOTSA BUCKS for this kind of work.
-Oh please, it'll probably just take a minute or two, and what's the harm? Myung-soo's been really nice to me--
-Even when you don't want her to be --
- ... and I can do this small favor for her. Don't be such a dick.
-Look, I'm just looking out for you, you idiot. We have a test tomorrow and this textbook to finish and I'm NOT gonna simper and smile and say, okay, please walk all over me, I love that, hee hee hee. Say NO.
-But I probably owe Myung-soo for all the nice things she's done for me, like give me candy on Valentine's Day, and ask people to take care of my broken phone, and ---
-That's nice and all, sweetheart, but talk to the hand, 'cause the face ain't listening. If she wants to do nice things for ya, then let her! But you need to take care of yourSELF first. You're already overbooked AS IT IS, mushbrain. Say it with me. No.

And then I heard myself saying: "I'm sorry, but I have a project that I'm doing, and I just don't have time."

Myung-soo: "Oh. Well, I just thought that if you had time, it's only one page, and it probably won't take very long."

("What's the big deal, then? It's just one page?" "Did someone replace your brain with some cooked macaroni? NO, moron. NO.")

Me: "Sorry."

Myung-soo: "Okay."

And that was that. Except that I immediately started wondering if I was indeed like Gwyneth Paltrow.

"Huh?" you ask.

On Friday, you see, I had dinner with another work colleague, Trudy. She's hella smart, and fairly fluent in English, as she lived for a few years in Britain when she was young. We were talking about something or other when I said, "...you know, that's why I don't like Gwyneth Paltrow. She just had it too easy! I mean, Steven Spielberg is her godfather, and he just randomly asked her in the car one day if she'd like to play Tinkerbell in his movie. And that was it!"

"But she's a good actress, isn't she?" asked Trudy, probably perplexed at my anti-Gwyneth vehemence.

"Yeah... I guess she is. But I just think of all the poor young men and women out there in L.A., struggling to just get a chance at the bigtime, and I really feel for them, because they're never going to make it, and Gwyneth, she just was born into it. I mean, I guess I'm lucky in life and all too, but --"

"But then Helen, to some people you are like a Gwyneth Paltrow!" Trudy laughed.

That stopped me short. First I felt annoyed ?hey, I wasn't born with a silver spoon in MY mouth ?and then I started feeling uneasy. It's true that my godfather isn't Steven Spielberg and it's true that I'm not pulling down millions of dollars per worldwide release, but it's equally true that compared to 99 percent of the world, I do have the golden key: a pedigree from Yale, another one for the having at another ivy-covered schoolhouse, supportive family, well-placed friends... But what do I do with this golden key? Not fucking much.

Oh, it's true that I've gotten one or two bat swings to the head, but one or two ain't much.

Even in comparison to most Koreans, I have so many more opportunities. Just by having grown up in the U.S., I have an advantage, because frankly, the U.S. is the all-powerful and mighty political AND cultural force in the world. Because English is so in demand, I can say to my office with impunity, well, I'm going on vacation for two weeks, SEEYA! and know that my job will be waiting for me when I get back. In fact, I've gotten a few comments to this effect, and I've taken to saying, "Well, it's nice to be a foreigner and a parttimer" by way of excuse.

It's a chore to read about someone's moral/ethical angstitential shit, and it's no walk in a cherry orchard to think about it either, so I'll end here. For now.