I wish I had my girls here. I would love to laugh with them over the ridiculous things that have happened in the last few days. It started on Friday when I found myself walking around the city, slightly lost, and not caring. I realized that I am quite apathetic toward my life right now, and that includes my feelings about Korea. It’s not that I dislike Korea. I don’t. But neither do I like the country. I just don’t care. In fact, I don’t care about anything right now. I spent Friday examining my attitude toward life and wondering if it was my own version of culture shock. I was pretty sure it wasn’t. The feelings were far too closely resembling the various emotions I have faced over the last four months. The truth is, I just am not ok. I felt like a little blue cartoon animal on a Zoloft commercial. Just stumbling around on the stage of life, not caring about anything in the world. I realized at some point in the day that I am depressed. And then I panicked. What am I supposed to do? I thought through some of the plans of action I could take. I realized that staying in my apartment all by myself with my Twilight book (which is the only thing I want to do these days) probably isn’t a good idea.
This weekend is Korean Thanksgiving so not much is open and the city is pretty empty. So Saturday I headed over to Itaewon, the dirty foreigner section of town. I had never been there so I figured it was as good a day as ever to head in that direction. I planned on planting myself in a Starbucks with my NT Wright book. It would be good. And it was, that is until the African guy decided to hit on me. I was sitting by the front window so I could people watch. He walked by the window, took one look at me and came in the store. I was still looking out the window, my book open on my lap, when he sat down next to me. I didn’t really notice. He cleared his throat. I turned, looking confused. I really was NOT in the mood to be hit on. He evidently hadn’t gotten that message though. He started telling me how much he liked me, how beautiful I was, how much he wanted to get to know me. I smiled as politely as possible and said point blank, “thanks but no thanks, not interested.” He still wasn’t getting the message. I refused to give him my name. I explained over and over that I was flattered, but in no way interested, that I wanted to be alone. He wouldn’t leave. Eventually I gave up trying to convince him and I just turned back to my book. After a few minutes of my reading, and his staring, he started talking to me again. Another round of asking him to leave. I turned back to my book. He scooted up in his chair and touched my arm. That’s where I drew the line. I sharply told him that he could not touch me, that I had said no, and that when a girl says no, it means no. And I gave him one more chance to leave before I would have to resort to telling the Starbucks staff to kick him out (he hadn’t bought anything anyways). Finally he left, after wasting about 20 minutes of my time. Needless to say, this did NOT help my mood. I was slightly impressed though with how direct I had been with him. In the past, in situations like this, I fret and worry over being rude. Maybe the breakup with Jason somehow gave me the chutzpah to deal with these situations.
I had plans to meet up with one my girlfriends from church for this party thing at our church. Ehhh… I wasn’t really feeling like it, but I knew that it would be good for me in the long run, even if all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and shut the world out. So I went to church. I met up with Nickie, my new girlfriend, and we started talking over some snacks at the party. That’s when I started to cry. Yep, right there in the middle of the party. It turns out that Nickie broke up with her boyfriend just 5 months ago. She totally understood my pain and I realized as I verbalized some of my issues that they are much more hormonal than rational. Yeah, TMI I know, but it’s true. I’m hormonal right now and evidently there are no mood swings for me, just depression. Fun. The good news, it didn’t last too long. By the end of the night I was feeling better. Not completely un-apathetic, but better than before.