While trying to be the prodigal son

Long story short: my parents’ separation isn’t going that smoothly.  Big surprise there.  My sister and I have been doing everything we can from afar, but there will always be limitations to what we can do for them, without actually being them, or at least, being physically present with them while we try and do things for them.

Naturally, the whole ordeal is often exasperating, and leaves the both of us on the phone with ourselves, venting to one another about just how they could possibly drive us even more up the wall than they already are.  Ultimately, the conversations steer back to the fact that they’re our parents, and we’ll do whatever it is we can to make sure that they’re okay, because that’s what supposed good children do once they’re adults, they help their parents.

To those paying attention, know that recently my bank account took a fairly substantial hit, on account of some decisions that my parents made, without necessarily doing enough (read: any) checks and balances to what repercussions may come about with spontaneously changing bank accounts.  Although the incident from a few days ago wasn’t the first time that this had occurred, it was undoubtedly the worst, seeing as how it completely zeroed out that particular bank account and rendered my daily purchases and ability to pay bills compromised until repaired.

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Thanksgiving musings

The following is a spatter of random thoughts that have gone through my head throughout the course of the holiday. I may or may not attempt to chronologically sort them when I’m done, as I’m pecking this out on my busted iPad.

The above picture is my wailing niece. I wanted to have some sort of visual to accompany this post.

This trip is the first time that I’ve brought my own car into the Commonwealth of Virginia in quite some time. The last time I drove my own car on my old stomping grounds was when I still had my old Nissan and I still felt it had the legs to make the trips from Atlanta to NOVA. Part of it is refreshing and fun to drive my own car on old familiar roads, but another part is apathetic and piteous of the residents of Virginia, whom have apparently been beaten into submission of driving like sissies in fear of the overzealous ticketing and fine system in place here. Safety is one thing, but the legions of people camping the left, passing lanes, going the approximate speed limit are bigger hazards to other motorists than the occasional tryhard going 88 mph, I would hypothesize.

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Derailing tradition, much to my dismay

Well, if I felt that my recent lack of angst and anxiety were reason for having difficulty finding things to write about, consider it my brog’s lucky day as both angst and anxiety have returned with but just a few mere phone calls with my family, to put me back in a state of mind where I want to vent to people around me, but don’t really want to burden anyone, so it turns into ultimately a great big vomiting of words onto whomever wishes to read them.

I won’t get into extensive detail, but I’ve made no secret about my parents getting divorced, and as much as I’d have hoped it would have been an amicable and clean separation, naturally it was and is not, and suddenly my plans over the Thanksgiving break that I had leisurely looked forward to have turned into a period of time in which I am basically dreading.

Why?  Because I’m going home for Thanksgiving.

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Ballparks: Danville, Virginia

It only took three years, but finally everything worked out as they should of, and I was able to make my long-awaited visit to sleepy Danville, Virginia, where I could get to see the Danville Braves rookie-level squad.

With Danville visited, I can now say that I’ve seen every single level of the Atlanta Braves minor league system, to which I am very pleased with.

Virginia is the worst place in the country to drive

Whatever a traffic sign estimates in Virginia, assume it to be double, for accuracy.

Typically, whenever I visit my old stomping grounds, I fly into whichever Northern Virginia airport has the most availability (usually DCA), and then I’m at the mercy of whomever is willing to give me rides or let me borrow cars, in order to do my business or get from point A to B on my own volition.

Over the span of the last year or so, be it for a myriad of circumstances, I’ve grown really weary over the notion of traveling in and out of the greater Washington D.C. area airports.  Old convention doesn’t seem to apply like it used to.  I honestly can’t remember the last time I had a trip where I didn’t get tragically locked in place in some leg of my trip.  Demand to or from D.C. is unpredictable and completely without logic, and I’ve had flights that looked open fill up at the drop of a hat due to weather, or some giant student group being unaccounted for until it was time to board the plane.

Needless to say, I took an opportunity to try something new during my last visit up to Virginia, because in theory it seemed like a very good idea: fly into Richmond, pick up rental car, drive to NOVA, Charlottesville, NOVA, Richmond, and leave from Richmond.  Richmond has direct flights to and from Atlanta, is a smaller airport with a smaller demand to and from Atlanta, and with a rental car, I wouldn’t have to inconvenience anyone for rides, or take time away from them.

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Preparing for the demise of Tysons Corner

Impetus: May 27, 2014 is the estimated date in which the DC Metro Silver Line opens up the route to Tysons Corner.

Knee-jerk reaction: May 27, 2014 is the estimated date in which Tysons Corner begins its new identity as the second coming of Springfield Mall.

In other words, this is, whether people realize it or not, terrible, terrible news for Tysons Corner, and the surrounding McLean area.  A lot of people don’t want to admit it, because it insinuates a hint of racial bias, profiling and other negative connotations, but the demise of Springfield Mall and the commercial death of all surrounding area coincides perfectly with the extension of the blue line and creation of the Springfield-Franconia Metro stop.  Like Cinderella’s glass fucking slipper.

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I don’t mean this in the long run

But right now, I kind of hate my family.  I kind of hate all Koreans for that matter.  The feeling will obviously eventually subside, and we’ll all find some sort of compromise to living again eventually, but at this very moment, I’m kind of pissed off at life, and I have only my family to thank for that.

Does this make me sound selfish?  Yeah sure, but I’m coming to the conclusion to a potential personal belief that everyone needs to have some selfish in them in order to prevent themselves from missing out on well, life.

During the tail end of my latest miserable visit up to Northern Virginia, the place where I grew up and now the place I dread going to more than jury duty or a workload of 380+ slide PowerPoints, the family was having another argument.  Typical Korean story bullshit, but then my mom pipes in that she now “gets” why the grandparents in Korean dramas are always pining for themselves to finally just die, so that they could alleviate the burden of their existence of their struggling children.

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