Enforced Cudding

Don’t worry; this post isn’t really about my cats

Up, Up, and Awake

There will be no spoiler warnings on this post, because I am THAT sure that everyone else in the universe has seen this movie already.

So I saw the movie Up tonight, in an attempt to fulfill my New Year’s resolution To No Longer Be The Only Person In The Universe Who Has Not Seen The Movie Up.  I mean, when you only make two resolutions (the other one being Not To Eat Ppushu Ppushu [뿌셔 뿌셔] For Every Meal), why not get them out of the way so that you can enjoy the rest of your year?  And since I did not have ppushu ppushu for dinner tonight, I think I can claim success on both fronts.

But while everyone else in the universe seemed to enjoyed this harmless children’s movie, I am awake at 4 pm bawling my eyes out.  (Yes, literally.  There they are, on the floor.)  I’ve already mentioned that I’ve cried while watching cartoon movies before on this blog, but tonight was on another level entirely.

Obviously I cried when Ellie died; those durn movie people had developed her character too much for me not to.  But it was more the lingering grief of Carl that placed a cold, hard grip on my chest for the remainder of the movie, and whose touch I am still feeling hours later.

I cried for his grief at losing the person who had been by his side for several decades — a loss I could only begin to imagine.  I cried for the children they wanted but didn’t have.  I cried for dreams that could not come true, at least not in their original incarnation.  I cried because I couldn’t believe I was a grown adult crying over a silly animated movie.  The vibrant animation, that adorable voice of Jordan Nagai as Russell, the balloons?  Did little to chase away the spectre of loss that became larger for me than Carl’s giant head.

Of course, in the end Carl is able to let go of the past that he carries on his back in the form of his domicile-slash-transportation-method.  He is able to realize that it is “just a house”; he is able to form new relationships that, while not replacing his old one, offer different kinds of meaning and connections.  He is able to “move on”.

But now it is almost five a.m., and the question is:  Will I, too, be able to move on?  Or will I carry my past around with me on my back until it crushes my spine like a soda can?

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Here’s another thing that most people have probably seen but I thought it was great and so I’ll post it anyway — a “mash-up” featuring video from Up and audio from Clint Eastwood’s Gran Torino:

Happy New Year!

I was going to do one of those fancy-dancy recaps where I list highlights of 2009 by linking back to posts that I’ve written about them, but then I remembered that I don’t really blog about that kind of stuff.

Plus, I’m still recovering from the holi-daze, evidenced by my lack of activity on this blog and in responding to comments.  Ah well, there’s always next year, right?

Anyway, Happy New Year dear readers, all four of you!

새해 복 많이 받으세요!

Lucky Girl

People just love to tell adoptees how lucky we are, and even if they don’t spell out the starvation, prostitution, and early death that they are convinced would have been our fates had we not been “rescued,” it’s usually there in the undercurrents.

But something happened tonight that is giving me pause, that is making me think just a little bit harder about my near-automatic reaction to the “you’re so lucky” claim. 

To My Recent Visitors

To the adoptive parents who are visiting here from the Adoption Parenting Yahoo list — and my, there are a lot of you, aren’t there?:

I am not sure exactly what it was about my previous, relatively content-free post that attracted you all here — especially since it contained an appeal to my fellow adoptees, not adoptive parents, but whatevs, I’ll just add it to the list of things that I’ll never know.

However, a recent commenter has made it clear that I need to spell out the following requests:

…. do NOT tell me that I am “truly a lucky person”. If you don’t know what’s wrong with that statement, spoken to an adoptee in the context of adoption, then all I can say is that the road before you is very long indeed.

… do NOT tell me that I shouldn’t “waste my life in sorrow”. Don’t imply that I was doing so before, and don’t instruct me not to in the future.  I try very hard not to go around to all the adoptive parent blogs out there and hand out unsolicited condescension “advice,” so kindly extend me the same courtesy.

… do NOT tell me how my life has turned out. What I write here represents a very small sliver of my life — good, bad, or otherwise — and you have no idea what the whole pie looks like.  I, on the other hand, live it every day.  I’m the only one who gets to decide whether it’s “good”… or anything else.

…. DO think before you comment. A little critical thinking goes a long way.  It also helps to read more than a single post on someone’s blog before you let your itchy little fingers have a go at the comment box.

Thanks.

After the Fact

Words to remember BEFORE people ask me intrusive questions, rather than AFTER:

“Nothing that I feel comfortable sharing just yet.”

“I don’t feel like talking about that right now.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I’m not ready to discuss that.”

“Let’s talk about something else.  How is _____?”

Adoptees, add your polite-but-firm suggestions below!

One Shot

Chicken Tonight!

This is a Korean chicken stew called 닭 도리탕, or “dak doritang”.  닭 (“dak”) means “chicken” in Korean, and 탕 (“tang”) means stew.  But what about the 도리 (“dori”)?

Apparently “dori” means “chicken” in Japanese, and so now I like to call this “chicken-chicken stew”.

The Person I Am Most Thankful For

The person I am most thankful for right now,

on this Thanksgiving night (here in the U.S. at least),

is the guy working at the 7-11 this evening

who let me use the employee restroom

even though he wasn’t supposed to,

and even though I didn’t explain

that I had just spent 2 hours

sitting in Thanksgiving traffic,

seat belt cradling my bursting bladder,

dreading every stop and start,

avoiding anything that would make me laugh,

regretting every single beverage

that I had consumed earlier in the day,

and willing to trade my kingdom

for some Depends.

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Anyway, Mr. 7-11 Employee, thank you; I really appreciate it.

… as does the owner of the car I was riding in

New and Improved

It took them a few days, although perhaps that was because they were too busy visiting this post several dozen times to actually do anything about it.

But at any rate, somehow they got the message because Spence-Chapin finally changed their Facebook profile pic: