36. the world is a lonely place. and i hate emo, so don't worry. emo as in feely, not as in Korean aunt.

whether you're coming out as gay, nerdy, trendy, a Belieber, a knitter, etc., the world can and probably will be unkind.

it's amazing the lengths we're willing to go in order to find that sense of community, and how desperate we are when we're harboring so many secrets.

whenever i think back to my days in the Lesbian Closet, it's hard to believe that the person experiencing all those woes existed in the very same body that carries me today.

and some of the things i did to hide myself now strike me as ridiculous:

1. dating boys.

2. throwing on a parka after swim practice and sprinting through the locker room instead of lingering around to shower and change with my teammates.

because, well, girls made/make me uncomfortable.

3. when a girl i was deeply in love with at swim practice offered to let me touch her abs as she was laying down, and we were alone on the deck in just our swim suits, i panicked and blurted out that i had to use the bathroom.

4. telling my parents, at the age of 8, "I know everyone thinks I'm a lesbian, but I just want you to know that I'm NOT."

5. laughing and nodding a little too rigorously when friends commented on a boy's frumpiness.

6. blushing whenever someone asked me what boy i was crushing on.

which actually worked well, as everyone tended to misinterpret the reasons behind my shade.

7. reading Jane Austen novels.

--

and when i finally started to deal with the gay thing and decided to look into the larger community, as well as to more fully accept it, kind of:

1. i googled "gay nerds" and found a forum that featured topics like "Hott Spock" and "Willow, Will-WOW."

i felt "connected."

after watching episode after episode of The L Word, it was nice to see that not ALL lesbians were wildly attractive, articulate, well dressed women.

2. watching The L Word on mute on the basement TV when everyone was asleep.

3. i avoided that girl i liked all the more.

too many feelings to deal with.

4. watching Ellen.

5. looking at colleges that were as far away from home as possible.

as well as their respective LGBT resource centres.

6. hugging people more often.

this seems a little irrelevant, but lemme tell you: when you're so determined to keep that Gay Secret, somehow you irrationally believe that your gayness can be discovered through osmosis or something.

--

but now that the gay thing's all done and dealt with, i laugh, really, at how melodramatic i made everything seem.

my Coming Out process was really anti-climactic and unexpectedly funny.

awkward, yes, and painful at times, but still easier to cope with than anticipated.

so now i find myself finally dealing with all sorts of things that were kept on the backburner: my inability to open up; my overall awkwardness; my nerdiness; my addiction to food; my weird insecurities.

it's almost as if my bored subconscious is trying to refill the big Worry Void that Coming Out left in its wake with whatever it can find.

my biggest concern nowadays is coming to terms with my awkwardness/social skills.

Lesbianism is so passe.

30. Korean grandmas are a dying breed. Relish those visors and animal print shirts while you can.

i love Korean Grandmas.

especially my own, but generally i find that Korean Grandmas are the kick-ass sort who flip society the bird from behind their too-large shades with their animal print shirts and permanently sour-puss looks.

as if to say, "Epp you, modahn day nohms, I habuh my own agenda. And dis is my regime's uniporm."

the other day, though, it hit me: after the current generation of wise-cracking, battle-scarred grandmas...disappear...they'll be gone forever.

at least in the US.

think about it.

all that sass came from decades of walking through war-torn streets, learning not to give a damn, and perfecting the art of practical "fashion."

the socks in sandals for comfort, warmth, and full range of motion for those toes.

the animal print, for urban camouflage.

the visors, so the sun won't blind them as they get up to their shenanigans.

like scowling at passersby.

muttering Korean obscenities about them.

haggling.

speed-walking.

nowadays, the up and coming generations of Koreans in the US have become way too trendy.

at least, too trendy to even consider tossing away their - i-don't-even-know-what-their-chosen-articles-of-clothing-are-called-because-i'm-so-frumptastic - in exchange for the Korean grandma fad.

it makes me sad to think that my own grandkids (if they're to exist) will never know what it's like to go Ajimah-spotting.

being waved at in that little way only those grandmas can do, where the hand and forearm almost spasm in unison, and the lady responsible purses her lips in what's supposed to be a friendly smile.

no old ladies to reach out, uninhibited, and pat them on the head.

no little 'fros.

they'll all - mostly - speak English fluently.

i feel like i have a responsibility to future children.

like when i'm old, i have to take on the challenge of keeping the Korean grandma phenomenon going.

learn to speedwalk with my hands clasped behind my back.

purse my lips.

wag my finger at questionable strangers.

overfeed my grandchildren.

clap my hands whenever i laugh.

examine things a little too closely, disregarding the concept of "personal space."

i owe it to my grandkids.

no one should have to miss out on the Korean grandma.

this is a call to short, stubby arms.

the kind that are generally stiff, even and especially when they randomly reach out and yoink you into a hug.

Grandma - Halmony - even though you can't read English, this one's for you.

for all those little slaps you gave my mom whenever she slapped me.

for being the only adult blood relative i had to tell me from the get-go that i should, "Grow up. Go to collegey. Be comedian."

for being you.

i salute you.

love you.

teach me your ways.