I realized today that I'm the dating world's equivalent to oatmeal, or gruel, or rice cakes, or something devised with the auspices of being good for you, but with such a bland taste that it's practically unpalatable. From now on, I'm going to carry around a packet of brown sugar, and when I get turned down, I'll tear open the packet, sprinkle it on myself and say, "Wait, wait, I'm more appealing now!" Sadly, though, this will do little to combat the fact that I'm still Asian and still in the Midwest, still getting shot down left and right, and still entirely hopeless for finding a date in this city or within a 50 mile radius. I think S is right. I am in desperate need of a move to a state as far away from where I am as humanly possible. I'm like a winter coat in Arizona. Somewhere, someone is in desperate need of me, but certainly not here.
I also realized that Korean food is the best food in the world. I've managed to fill my belly with Korean food with weekend, and I'm very happy about it. I miss my mom's cooking. I miss coming home to a Korean meal, with soup and everything. I miss all the weird little things that my mom did that I cannot replicate. I tried cooking something, and my mom picked me to pieces. More soy sauce. Less sugar. Stir more. Leave it covered. Add more garlic. Arg! I cannot replicate any of my mom's recipes, so my only hope for a life full of nutritious and delicious Korean food is to find some Korean girl who is in desperate need of a green card. If you are such a girl, you should consider e-mailing me. When we meet, you should come bearing soup.