When is enough, enough?

Despite the new dart set and equipment, it seems I'm still shooting the same.  This is frustrating down to the bone, really.  Mentally, I have an idea of what I'm doing wrong.  My nerves get shaky and I'm not riding waves of momentum.  Enough of the imagery in each explanation. 

Let's try to make a list of things that help in consistency.  But before I do that, a part of me is asking if I'm cut out for performing under pressure.  I'm thinking about the other person too much.  Too many thoughts, because when I'm shooting alone it's too easy to concentrate- it's decompressed, dah. 

The definition of the word 'Practice' is this:

**** measuring the weakest spot in a given activity and thus, training your mind and body to react instantly to either attack or defend. 

I'm not going to change this definition!  Let us explore the context.  First of all, playing darts is not a war tactic.  Waging war against thy self is of course part of my personality, ha ha.  If anyone tells me to relax, then cheer cheer.  But man!  Tonight I kept losing, and that is just not fun to me.  I don't want to shoot well once in a while anymore, fuck!  Marginal advances are such burdens to your pride, and yet at the same time you feel humbled by it all.  Does that make any sense? 

When is enough, enough?  Darts is just a game, yes.  It's fun, but lately improving consistency is just a battle that I've been losing for about a year now.  I need to quantify my mistakes, to truely try and understand them.  Darts is a game of subtraction and addition, and I've been relying on the computer to tally my score.  Following what the computer says to shoot for to finish an 01-game.  Between sets, whenever I subtract or add I lose focus.  It's as simple as that.  The next level of play in my current ranking is like running to the next city back in cooking school.  But for now, I'm running toward some kind of light at the end of this god for saken hill~~~

Bottomless Bloke

Neon lights line the buildings outside and the cobblestones reflect a days worth of April showers.  This night has all the cliques of a night where a saxophone would play somewhere in the background.  Somewhere out there in this city light there's an ash tray with some bloke staring at the bottom of his glass deciding if one more would make everything a bit clearer.  Not knowing his happiness was sitting right there on his lapel, radiating with such splendor~ too bad his eyes didn't see that side of the spectrum, yet.  Who knows the things which we seek?  On the shores of New Caledonia a seashell has my name on it.  But good luck finding it.

Two boys are holding hands.  One hangs from the balcony window second guessing his leap to another world.  A white dove, like the one symbolizing peace shits on his forehead.  "Don't let go.  Pull yourself up," says the fair skinned boy.  Maybe his cowardly appeal to life paid off after all.  At least that's how the dangling pound of flesh felt when he stared down the 17th floor apartment window pane.  He was the wimp while the strength came from the guy holding him- the hero.  Two circles so different are merged in this moment of union, mano y mano.  Sweat dissipates into oblivion below the concrete and space between.

The glass ends up being filled once more, just this one more at this place in this city of excess.  The only thing moving are his ruddy fingers holding on to what's his only connection to the bar.  Where's his hero? He contemplates this word 'hero', rearranging the letters in the hopes for an answer.  He ends up adding a W to his equation, buying an extra tomorrow.  Moans and sighs here on out of these slippery roads.

He manages to laugh at some skeleton umbrella on the cobblestone.  The 17th floor key twists the lock free.  Three flickers before the toothbrush reveals itself, that and the mirror.  Lipstick stains his lapel, but he doesn't see it.

Marching days

First dart board paid and on the wall.  It's a synthetic that's hopefully going to pay itself off by diverting my attention to it rather than the boards at the bar.  A tournament is scheduled for April 17th- single elimination at my home bar.  A player just has to win 5 games to place in the top 4 out of 45+ entrants.  I have yet to even place anywhere close to top 20.  It must be the pressure and the lack of practice.  Tournament play is such a mental sport... 

I'm shooting about the right level~  01 games are about 22 points per dart, which comes out as at least one bulls eye per round; Cricket is 2.5 darts per round.  Which places my ranking somewhere in the middle of the bell-curve for this tournament.  Must get out running for this thing to happen in April. 

As for the new apartment, the kitchen is being used properly and regularly.  I haven't eaten out for as far as I remember... two months or so.  I mean, besides a sandwich now and then, rarely even~ the next time I'm served at a restaurant it will definitely feel like a treat.  Maybe I'll take Mari out when she comes this April 16th.  Still shakes on her side of the world.  Although, she is packed and moved out of her place.  A few more days for her until about a week and a half at her folks place.  And then~  Korea bound, yes.

Gym and health are nice and steady~  what can I say?  Pretty mundane and for now my ambitions are focused for being more consistent in darts and also... kinda' ready for Winter to end...  A few more days of March.. March

Japan online~

My prayers go out to the coastal regions of Iwate, Sendai and the whole eastern side of Japan.  According to Mari, the lines for food and gas are long but controlled.  Collectively, the people are calm and orderly.  Getting the nuclear power plants in Fukushima contained is a top priority.   But as for my girl, I'm hoping she sits steady and gets to the Western front as soon as the aftershocks cease.  I'm worried, but hopes for an April landing here in Seoul keeps our minds focused.  The uncertainty of earthquakes or pretty much any natural disaster makes everything seem so small.  

Dinner party with new coworkers

Showing off with food cooked is double edged.  They asked, "why aren't you doing this instead of teaching?"  I always get a little defensive when asked this.  Some time soon, perhaps because the days are getting hotter and the sun-marks on my face are getting deeper.  I miss Mariko.

Played darts after dinner.  I'm a little tipsy from wine and beer.  Tomorrow is now.  Haven't dreamed of anything in a while, and I hope to smell aloe and almonds when the eyes lose what's real.  A blank wall for now and neon lights glimmer below the 6th floor of an apartment not so lonesome.

I've cooked for three hours straight.  I have leftovers for the weekend.  I want to spin a hard boiled egg on the counter, see it crack from the dizzy edge of what is there to stop it.  For now, lets watch the ending episode of Fringe, season one~  Good night and morning to all~~~~~~~~~~~~

501 darts + Cricket```

In approximately 8 hours the dart tournament begins~~

A bit of insomnia lingers and sleep lingers both shoulders.
A week of forgiveness and a winter that has been too blue on the teeth.

I want the bull and every double, triple and single worth counting.
After this, let's see if happiness lasts for a second more.

Line to breath to muscle to memory to release~ to eye to repeat two more times and more.

All so quick, the month of heart shaped kisses and space

Gunpo City has two sectors~ the old and the new.  I've lived in 3 apartments in the old sector, called Dangdong.  This Monday, I move into the new sector called Sanbon.  The old sector is a quiet neighborhood.  Two trainstops cover the area, and buses stream through for easy commutes to Seoul or immediate cities north from here.  The migrant workers go further south to manufacturing plants.  These are the dark skinned folks like Filipinos and the Vietnamese.  The old sector has this diversity.  The new sector has the night life~  it's where the dart boards are. 

You get used to moving, the whole procedure of keeping the things you need and tossing out stubs of who-knows-what.  The accumulation of stuff over the 6 months in this apartment is manageable.  If it weren't for the other apartments I've lived in before here, I probably would have amassed a great deal more.  So now, I'm efficient.  Actually, I'm darn good at it. 

The new apartment is not only for me, but for my fiance, too.  It's our apartment.  19 Pyeong is the size, but these Korean measurements for square footage or meters aren't accurate.  1 Pyeong is 3.3 square meters, but that number accounts for elevator, hallway space, and even the parking lot.  Of course there has been some fraudulent cases of Budongsans, or real estate agencies charging for footage that doesn't exist.  So the government a few years ago changed the measuring standards to meters.  But the reality is that the majority of homes and apartment sellers are still using the old system.  Regardless, the best way is to see the place with your own eyes, right?  Overall, we're going to have a comfortable flat that has everything you need.  Most of all, the kitchen has four feet of counter space with two gas ranges.  Picked up a free oven from a friend just two days ago, so that is an entirely new dimension to Korean style kitchens.  Whew!

The new school pays rent, and the fact of the matter is that they are not honoring the agreement of the contract in that they are to provide "appropriate housing."  I have yet to see the actual apartment.  Of course I did some snooping around and with the help of a friend spoke with the realtor of the building to see a flat the same size.  Deep inside I saw this dispute as my first encounter of protecting your own.  I want Mari to be happy.  We could live in a love shack, that's fine in a youthful way of speaking, but the terms are the terms.  So in the end, the school said it was impossible to break the contract with the leasing office.  It's bullshit, really because I spoke with that same office and they said a small fee is to be paid to change the apartment.  I was willing to pay that fee, but the larger apartment has a more expensive key deposit.  And that is something the school cannot fit into their budget.  My ass was kicked to the curb.  No worries, the flat chosen is a good size~~ our mini-mansion!

Using creative techniques with light, curtains and borders, we are going to find a way for us to have private time.  She can play her keyboard and I can read my book.  Again, the kitchen has fire,an oven, and neat compartments for dry goods and spices.  These are the things I think about when a couple are together~ maintaining your identity but having that special 'blueberry' to depend on.  Man, these are exciting times!  I want things now~ to live in a place (the beach) and cook fish tacos for profit. 


There's the thing about cash flow.  Saving 15 grand is some odd number looming in my head.  It took my parents 8 years for them to open their own business.  The grand opening is on February 28th with 28 kids in the Academy and three employees, wow.  It's amazing and also great that my mother can finally be the director and use only her finger to work. 


Final three days in Bluehill apartment.  Boxes line the floor.  Only the kitchen, bathroom and a few clothes to be packed~ 2 hours work left, really.  That was the month of February, a Valentines gift of love. 

Cutting Through Ice From South Korea to Japan

4:30 AM, Gyeonggi-do, South Korea:
The night before a flight always half awake.  May catch some shut-eye on the plane.

Gimpo International Airport, Seoul South Korea, 7 AM:
The airport bus driver bows before taking the driver's seat.  He's going to speed through the pre-dawn traffic.  He does, maneuvers through the slip and slide and before you know it, Gimpo check-in.  Staying sharp, for this is the first time departing from this airport.  It ends up being small- manageable with the feel of local terminals and light foot traffic.  The pace of the city still in step- singular thoughts of just getting to a destination occupies my early morning mind.

First Class seats with silverware and a Korean Herald Newspaper- crosswords for now until Haneda, Tokyo.  Flying into ice weather.  It seems the world is entering an Ice Age.  Reports of blizzards and below normal on the eastcoast of the US.  Easy to read about it, though.  As long as these engines stay clear of birds and ruptures, is all that matters.  I'm an aisle-guy now on planes.  My attention is on words- passing the time really.

Haneda to Akita, Japan:
Flying into a blanket of white.  Will the plane slide into the airport?  The delay at Haneda was for these invisible guys to plow the snow.  Keep everything in check for our lives to stay sane, keep the organism, this mode of transportation safe.  A suicide bomber in Moscow blew himself up before entering security at the airport.  Safety is an illusion.  Let's just land.  The last thing on my mind was watching Eddie Felsen's knowing grin...  There's someone at the airport grinning, too.  She's gotten so much lighter, her skin.  Warmth at the entrance.  Hello Japan!

Going to meet the parents.  From bus to train, all you see is snow.  This is the countryside, Akita Prefecture about 8 stops into what seems the middle of nowhere.  You don't really understand the word 'evergreens' until you see them in chest high of snow- and the white just keeps coming.  You imagine the early explores of the polar ice caps.  The opposite of complete darkness is light being reflected from every direction- a winter tanning which grips your pores by the balls.

Don't want to end this blog with the word 'balls'.  It's been a week here now and there's so much more to write about.  From Mount Iwate to Mariko's English School, Oasis and being naked with other guys at a hot spring, of course food and travel- it's interesting where you are now.  Lost the equivalent of 200 dollars when converting Korean Won to Japanese Yen.  The focus is the snow, though.  What can you say?  It's there all around you, everywhere.  I can see why Mari tries to stay clear of it.  I'm happy that she was a big snowboarder during her early youth.  Can't fight the snow.

A Crate of Luck

Sometimes when you crack an egg open, you find that there are two yokes.  I'm sure with a bit of human intervention, food scientists can somehow alter the results.  All else aside, it's commonly thought of as good luck if you have two yolks.  The crate of eggs, which by the way Mariko bought last week before leaving has 4 more eggs in the fridge.  It was an 18 pack of eggs.  12 of them had double yolks.  I never thought of it really as being good luck, if you believe in those things.  Tonight I shot a below average game of darts.  Walked home from the bar, which was about 2 miles away, the roads laced with ice...
Now, a double yoke floats in my ramien.  Time for Conan the barbarian, all free downloads, ha!

Next week I bus to Cheongyang for a 5 day camp.  After that, Japan.  But for now 3 eggs left for tomorrow.  If I'm lucky I'll have a 6 yolk omelet.

What has this blog become?

Let's admit it~ this blog has become pretty much an online diary about mundane things happening in, yes I'm going to say it- my life.  Originally, this was for documenting recipes and my progress in learning the Korean language.  Oh well to both of these so called, goals.  I do own up to what I've posted so far.

Feeling a bit relieved that the apartment is empty again.  Almost 2 months Mariko stayed with me.  Both of us are very self sufficient and compliment each other well.  She does keep her thoughts to herself at times.  I know this face, because that's what I do.  It happens to people that are loners~ they ride a wave of thoughts in their own world.  No use examining it so much, I can handle her and she to I~ that's cool.

I gave her flowers a week ago.  I don't even know the name of these things that are by the desk.  She likes white lilies and gerberas~ friendly flowers.  The ones I gave her are for funeral processions in Japan.  It would have been for my funeral, the slick roads I had to bike through to get them.

It's 2:10 AM and I'm hungry for ice cream.  A book by the bed is calling for me: "Proteus" by Morris West ISBN: 0-553-13201-6 (1979) William Morrow & Co., 105 Madison Ave. New York, NY 10016.  John Spada, the main character in the book is a billionaire multinational who operates a secret organization call Proteus that uses the symbol of the fish.  The organization, shall we say operates outside of the law to cope with the cruelties of the world and the corruption of governments.  He's just about to bust his son-in-law (an outspoken reporter) out of a jail in Venezuela.  It's planning at it's best, and Morris West does it in such an exhilarating fashion.

Random Tandom

Tomorrow I sign a new contract with a new school~ an elementary school in Sanbon.  Tomorrow Mari leaves for Japan.  The week after I leave for Cheongyang Winter Camp for 5 days, and then immediately after will board a plane for Akita.  But for now, the main office of our middle school keeps my nimble fingers busy.  This is the Korean way, to describe a school as possessive~  my or our school.  I was a part of a good school this past year and a handful of months.  The changeup will be welcomed wholeheartedly.

I found a super cool hat last night in Itaewon.  It's funny how people can succumb to materialistic things to find some confidence in.  This is not the Garden of Eden.  Never owned a lumberjack hat before.  The kind where there are flaps that tie onto the sides of the hat.  When the ears need warmth, the furry lapels can be lowered like a World War II bomber cap.  The hat is lined with fur which resembles wool.  It has the color of hickory chips~ this will be with me for years to come, you can definitely count on that.

This past month living with Mari has been relaxing.  She's cooked a diversity of meals, and has even learned how to make Korean kimbap.  I've learned a few things to say when I visit Japan, such as introduction phrases and ordering phrases.  She's continuing to learn Korean, as she will study it further this Summer at Seoul National University.  Really happy that we have had this chance to spend quality time together.  She even spent three days at my work helping with my Winter Camp.  The students respond differently when there's a hot babe in the room, ha!

As for the New Year, I finished most of the things that I wanted to accomplish.  All of them were mainly job related.  Two more things to do:  Finish the business cards and mail Brucie's books which I promised months ago.  In short, B & B.  As for the business cards, I want to say that I'm a personal chef who's available for catering to private parties and events.  It's a freelance card, something that's been long overdue.  All I need is a symbol with some kind of phrase.  My parents emailed a whole list of ideas.  Some of their suggestions are:
Hot plate, healthy and plenty, wahoo!,  and good harvest.  It's neat how their ideas of life come through in their slogans.  Who wouldn't remember 'wahoo' on a business card?

Signing off for now with this last thought for 2011 from Sarek of Volcan~ ...we shall always retain the best part of the other, inside us...  peace and long life.

Let's begin the final 'ember' month!

Have been away from blogging these days. 

Mariko's cooking has been improving.  She cooks Japanese dishes which have been light and gingerlicious.  She doesn't use oil when preparing proteins.  So far, the mackerel and chicken she's made have been parboiled and then poached in a broth. 

On Tuesdays, she and I have lunch at the flat.  Yesterday, she made a chicken dish that was simple and precise.  I say precise because there were only three elements~ sauce, chicken, and radishes.  One tasted the chicken without the complications of other things.  Everyone enjoys a simple roasted chicken, for example.  Mari's lunch was 'roast chicken' in a light broth.  For the radishes, she parboiled them to lessen their zip.  The fresh ginger, mirin, soy, and seaweed broth was exquisite.  Again, I must emphasize the absence of cooking oil in the process.  I'm curious on just how far her skill can go. 

The Thanksgiving party last Saturday was a success.  Everything went pretty much according to plan.  I did mistaken the oven gauge as being in degrees Fahrenheit.  So for one hour I was cooking the bird at 300 degrees Celsius.  Transporting the dessert, stuffed squashes, stuffing, and Turkey to the party was interesting.  Michiko and her sister handling it all moving from the 9th floor to the taxi was hilarious.  On arrival, the ladies were distressed about the succotash.  Mariko's face was stern.  I could tell she and the others were not on-point with their half of the dishes.  No major problems, just a few adjustments to the seasonings was all.  The guests really enjoyed themselves~  I thank them for coming.

Too much to say about the week before the T-giving party.  Whew!  Picking up the Turkey from Itaewon, Seoul was a story in itself.  I was chilling out at the gate with the guards talking about the PanAsian Games, while waiting for the turkey delivery.  Haven't been practicing my Korean, geez!  Tossed the turkey in my napsack and away we went to get a fancy Italian dinner a few blocks away.  There was a winter chill and the turkey would have kept well outside for days.  It was a nice night.  Happy to have another successful dinner under the belt.  How many has it been now?...

D A R T S!!
This Sunday is the national championship round.  The tournament will be held at the Yangjae performing arts complex.  Like many conferences, attending these massive gatherings makes you feel good to be a part of something larger than yourself.  We compete to see whose nerves are the sharpest.  No sandbagging for these matches.  It's shoot to win!  Again, whew!  Let's go team Sanbon, Jack's Bar!  I want to take home something, eh!