It has been a while since I was last in Vegas. It’s kind of nice to see that other than growing in size and scope, it’s still the same Las Vegas I ‘ve always known.
Ah, Las Vegas, how I missed you.
Note: unless you really like walking or waiting, don’t vacation in Vegas during a big convention. And try to make your reservations well ahead of time, no matter the case.
I’m headed to Las Vegas for work, so I don’t know if I’ll be able to make regular posts until I get back. I will try to update from my phone, but I have no idea how well that would work.
So apologies to my four readers out there.
Many of the people that know me know that I love video games of all kinds. Puzzle games, role-playing games, adventure games, whatever.
These same people know that I don’t currently play first-person shooters (from here on referred to as FPS), because they give me massive headaches.
This started around the time the original Quake came out. I’m not entirely sure if it was the game that caused the initial reaction, or if it was something about me that caused it, but the first time I tried to play Quake, I had a massive, near-migraine headache within a few minutes.
I took some heacache medicine, and after lying down for an hour, I tried playing it again. Same reaction.
Not knowing exactly what was causing me the pain, I thought that I might have better luck with a different game. A while later, another FPS came out with a similar control scheme. I bought it, installed it, and tried to play it.
Once again, I was down with a headache within minutes.
So I pretty much came to the conclusion that I would never be able to play and FPS games again.
Then Halo came out.
I loved the look, the story, and the style of the game. Thinking, “Hey, it’s been a few years. Maybe I can play it,” I bought a copy for my XBox and gave it a try.
Two minutes later, I was on the couch, medicine in hand.
At this point, it looks like I will not be able to play a good chunk of the newer games coming out, and an even larger chunk of the games that are already out (Half Life 2, FarCry, etc.). I’ve actually found that some third person games, like Gears of War, give me a problem, too.
I hope that the current trend of ‘FPS games and nothing but’ eventually ebbs, so I can look forward to some games that I will actually be able to play. (In particular, I’m hoping for more good turn based strategy and role-playing games)
When I moved back to the U.S. from Japan in 2002, I had absolutely no job prospects. None. I looked, but there wasn’t really anyone hiring, at least, not that I could find.
So on a lark, I applied to the F.B.I. Yes, that F.B.I. (I also applied to the C.I.A., but that went absolutely nowhere)
I was hoping they might want someone to translate Japanese documents or something. I really wasnt’ expecting to hear back, though. The Yakuza really aren’t a huge problem in the U.S. these days (at least, not that I know of), so I figured my applying to the F.B.I. was just a shot in the dark.
To my surprise, I got a response from them later in 2003. To be a special agent. (I must have clicked on that, too, when I did my online application)
So, I got my invitation to take the first of several tests to see if I was good enough to get to the second stage of application. Letters in hand, I went to this center (somewhere in Maryland - I honestly don’t remember where), where many other people waited, all in suits, to take the written exam.
The test started, and the hours flew by. The questions ranged from ‘what would you do in this situation’ to practical knowledge questions to questions about my personality and such. After the test ended, I went home, figuring that I wouldn’t get a call back.
But I did. I got a letter stating that I was chosen for the second stage of application - physical fitness. (Those of you who know me know that while I am not a super-fat guy, I am hardly Captain America… hell, I’m not even Corporal U.S. Guy) They wanted me to lose around fifty (50) pounds in a month or so, if I remember right. And to be able to do a 15 minute mile. (I can do, at this point, a 20-22 minute run… maybe)
In addition, my mother, who I get a lot of my worrying from, flat out told me that she didn’t want me to be a ‘cop’. I told her that I would likely not need to use my gun (I wasn’t sure, honestly; I have no idea how often an F.B.I. agent has to pull their firearm out), but she was adamant. And that, coupled with the sudden need for weight loss (fifty pounds in a month and some is not healthy) led me to decide to not go through with it.
But sometimes I wonder, what would have happened if I had gone through with it, and managed to pass the test. Where would I live? What would I be doing, exactly? How would the last few years have gone?
F.B.I. Agent Richard Kim. Kind of has a nice ring to it, I guess.
I have been to South Korea (my ‘motherland’, as it were) twice in my life. Once in 1988 (when I was 12), and once in 1996 (20).
The reason for both trips was the same - to improve my Korean (reading and writing), and learn more about where my parents and family came from.
One thing I remember very fondly from both trips is the fact that the members of my extended family (aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.) were very, VERY accepting of me, even though they had never met me before. They took me into their homes, showed me around, and help me cope with a culture that I honestly didn’t know much about.
This is part of the reason I love my family so much. It was because they were so willing to work with me, put up with my American-ness (I was very, VERY stubborn and selfish back then), and always make sure that I was okay, and that my summers in Korea were wonderful.
It is thanks to there people that I am who I am today, and for that, I am eternally grateful. Some of them have moved on to whatever may lie ahead, and I miss them very much. But I know that they are watching over me, and that they will always be there for me.
Long version:
My friend, C, is fluent in Japanese. He makes me look like completely stupid in comparison. He is also a great guy, and he never lorded it over me.
One time, we were on the train from his place to Shinjuku, and decided to do a little social/language experiment. In other words, we were going to mess with people.
For the record, C is as white as white can be. Not to say he’s pale or anything, but he is definitely caucasian.
With this in mind, we decided to see how people would react to me, who is obviously Japanese, speaking nothing but English, and him speaking nothing but Japanese.
We made up our minds by the time we hit the train station, and for the next thirty (maybe forty, I forget) minutes, we held our conversations entirely in the ‘opposite’ language.
We mostly got stares and weird looks. A few people whispered to the person next to them and pointed at us. Keep in mind, we weren’t being loud or obnoxious, but JUST loud enough to not be drowned out by the train.
At one point, though, a little girl walked up and asked me, in Japanese, “Hey, mister, are you Japanese?” I feigned confusion and turned to Chris, who responded, completely deadpan,
“No. He’s American. I’M Japanese.”
The little girl’s eyes went wide, and a moment later, she scurried back to her mom, a confused look on her face.
Sometimes, it’s the little things in life.
On New Year’s Day, my family gets together for a traditional Korean party. In my case, we do it twice - once for my mother’s side of the family, and once for my father’s side.
My mother’s side of the family is smaller than my father’s side, so the party tends to just be lunch, then ’seh beh’, which is where we wish our elders (and vice versa) a happy new year and such.
My father’s side of the family is quite a bit larger (20+ people on average each year), and unlike my mother’s side of the family, most of the older relatives on this side of the family are not fluent in English.
This causes a problem in that I am not fluent in Korean. I do speak Korean, just not well enough to hold a real conversation. I’ve tried to improve my Korean in the past, but it’s never gone well for whatever reason. (For the record, the biggest attempts were in the summer of 1988 and the summer of 1996)
This language barrier has created a kind of disconnect with my family during these gatherings. (We get together for Thanksgiving, too, so I go through this twice a year) Even though I’m among people that I know love and care for me, I still feel very alone. There are conversations going on, sometimes involving/about me, but I can’t really contribute beyond ‘yes’, ‘no’, ‘I don’t know’, or nervous laughter.
This is not because of any malicious intent on my family’s part. They are used to speaking Korean. Even the family members who DO speak English well default to Korean when we’re all together. It’s a very normal thing. (In Japan, I would default to English when I was hanging out with non-Japanese people, because it’s what comes more naturally to me) I don’t hold it against them in the slightest.
The problem comes in that I just don’t know what to do, other than sit there, eat, and nod a lot. I could bring a book or my DS or something, but then there’s not a lot of meaning to trying to sit there and participate in the conversations.
I usually do try to participate, but most of the time, I’m lost. After a while, I have to get up and spend some time alone, to a) try to absorb what was said to me, and b) try to think of something, anything, to say beyond ‘hi, uncle/aunt’. Sometimes, though, it’s bad, and I end up spending a good chunk of time by myself. (Yeah, I know it seems emo, but it’s not ‘oh, no one cares’, it’s ‘I feel like a fifth wheel, so I’ll chill out and read by myself for a while’.)
Please note, I’m not bitching or anything - this is just an observation that I’ve made over the past ten years or so. And I know I’m not the only one. Other people who are of a similar background (family that speaks a language at home that is unfamiliar to that person) have told me of similar situations.
I’m also not looking for solutions. I know what I need to do - I need to keep at my Korean studies, which I intend to do. I love my family very much, and I do want to participate more. Besides, I like speaking Korean. It’s fun.
Happy New Year, everyone! (Well, okay, no one is reading this, but oh well.)
This is my first official blog entry (if you for some reason saw the previous ones, they were just tests) for the year 2007, and my ‘first’ blog entry ever. I’m going to use this blog to write about my life (sans bitching - that will be for my LiveJournal), and maybe occasionally toss out ideas that I have mulling about my head. Hopefully it will be amusing, and a nice way to record the things that have happened in my life before I forget them.
The rules, such as they are, will be:
1) I will try to stick to a at-least one a day post schedule, unless work or something vital interrupts
2) I will post at least a paragraph, and not a single line entry
3) I will keep all negative bitchery and such out
4) There is no rule four
5) I will try to respond to any and all comments made to my entries (though I am prone to forgetting about things…)
I honestly can’t think of anything autobiographical to really say right now, so I will leave you with one of the funniest things I’ve heard in my life:
At a con I was at years ago:
Goth 1: “Do you know why I hate life?”
Goth 2: “…”
Goth 1: “Because life hates me.”
Goth 2: “… That is SO deep, man.”
(The title is romanized Korean - it means “Please receive many New Year’s blessings.”)