notes from
the MUCK . . .

How does your garden grow? With muck, muck and more muck! I spent much of today finishing the final muck box and then shifting muck from one box to the next. The first box, which the Big Lad is enthusiastically pointing out, has been rotting down for two years now and once we’d removed the top quarter of unrotted material, we found we’d hit the pay dirt.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Episode I: The Phantom Engrish

Ok, Katy, I met my friend by emailing everyone in the New York Film Academy to see if anyone would be in New York before the class actually started. I am this desperate for companionship these days. Anyway, I got the following response almost right away:
I'll take exactly same class with u~
That's so cool to know that~
I'm Jamie, a girl from Korea, and its been 3 weeks since I've been here New York..
Actually there are many places to go around, so we could hang around some places~:)
Feel free to write me~:)

I think I may have copied that for you once before. For a second I thought all those tildas meant I had randomly met an incredibly sarcastic Korean Muck fan.

Then there were the follow ups:
Hi Jeff
Glad to get ur answer~:)
well.. I was in LA for a moment just before I came here.
actually here is much better to tour cause there are much more public trasportation u know~
But the weather is carazy~~!!!
sometimes so cold n rain so often..( I got a cold!!! cough cough!)
I don't like the weather of here!!
but.. there are many people and fashion.. many interest things anyway..
that is so cool...
beside the weather, I love here~^^
Where r u coming from anyway???

And the last one before I met her in person:
I think U can check the room by the internet and have resevation~
Check hotels or hostels in NY.
And it would be convenient to reserve nere ur apartment..
then take care by then~

ps. What time ro u arrive here?

So I met Jamie one evening in Times Square after a very confusing phone conversation in which I could have sworn she told me she was at Grand Central Station. I had to walk 15 minutes to the Gap, where I met my future friend. I remember it being simultaneously a relief to have someone in my same boat, as well as a bit awkward because we were both repeating every sentence two or three times.

I thought perhaps we'd get some dinner in one of these hip sections of Manhattan I had been reading about. She seemed to want only to walk around the flashing lights and chaos of Times Square and we ended up popping into some terrible and overpriced cafe. The greatest thing was watching Jamie try to eat her pickle slice with a plastic knife and fork. It kept sliding around and slipping off, but I had a hard time communicating that it is perfectly acceptable to pick it up with your hands.

There was a moment, though, when the true nature of the human spirit barreled right through the language barrier. Or some mawkish shit like that. She was talking about that cold she had referenced in her email, during the rainy week she spent here before I arrived, "It was...very...sad and ronery time." I didn't say anything, but her eyes teared up right in front of me, a virtual stranger, for just a split second before she wiped them with her sleeve and changed the subject. It was the first time I knew exactly what she was talking about.