I've made some changes to the format here, but I'm not really happy with it. I'll work on it some more later.
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I'm not sure it's been all that evident, but I've had a case of the blues for the past week or so, culminating in a weepy Tuesday night walk from taekwondo to the subway. I'm also not sure what the trigger was, though I suspect it's probably the thing I mentioned last Monday, Aug. 11.

In any case, it was certainly made worse by my tendency to withdraw from society, and then feel isolated, and then sink further into myself until I'm walking the streets muttering to myself, "It's okay, hk. It's okay. It's gonna be okay." I didn't see anyone socially for more than a week, at first because I didn't want to, and then because I was sort of afraid to, and then because I just wanted to lie in bed and stare at the ceiling.

I remember doing this in my senior year of college, when I lived in a sweet single and developed a fear of going to the dining hall, or any place where there was more than one person. I mention the sweet single because although it was truly sa-weeeet! as the boys in high school would say, it, like the house in The Shining, probably brought out the psycho tendencies. Living alone is great for many people; it would probably drive me to popping Prozac within a month.

It was interesting, therefore, to read an excerpt from "The Loner's Manifesto" on Salon.com yesterday, and to recognize some aspects of myself but realize that as much as I do often feel ill at ease in social situations and usually prefer to sit at home and read trashy books with a bag of chips by my side, I really need people. I'm not particularly self-sufficient, though I think I seem like I am. It usually is better for me to talk things over with a friend than to keep things locked up inside.

You'd think this was really, really obvious stuff to a 27-year-old who's reportedly done some thinking about herself, but hey, it's hk we're talking about here. So I was surprised last week when J asked if I was talking things out more these days rather than keeping it all bottled up.

"I talked about stuff! I didn't keep things bottled up!" I said defensively. "Ahem," he coughed. "Oh, right, except for all the important stuff," I remembered.

Why is it that I keep relearning things that I should have learned and been done with years ago?

And why is this entry so damned jumpy and incoherent? I give up.
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There are a lot of stray cats around my neighborhood. Koreans call them "robber cats," cause they slink around so sneakily, eating kimchee out of trash bags. But stray dogs are not called "robber dogs." In fact, I've never seen a stray dog here. Maybe because they get snatched up and EATEN. Bwah hah hah.
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Oh yes, and I've gotten past the funk. In a desperate flail for a lifesaver, I asked my Taiwanese friend Vivian to have coffee with me on Wednesday, and while it wasn't a melding of the minds or anything, just spilling a few guts to a sympathetic ear was helpful. This is no offense to the Ringleted One, who lent me a kind ear last week; it's just that sometimes, someone in the flesh is what you need.

Incidentally, Vivian recently decided to marry her Korean boyfriend and stay in Korea. My work colleague HJ recently decided to apply for a joint program in law and international studies in the U.S. Another friend at work told me last week that she was pregnant. My old roommate is moving to her new condo next week. Even two bloggers whom I read are moving to San Fran and going to work for Garrison Keillor, respectively.

Suddenly it seems like everyone is on the move and shifting and finding their way and making decisions. I hope it's my turn soon. I suppose it would count if I had to quit my job. Wonder what's next?