old people frighten me

i spent a lot of time on the subway today, which means i saw a lot of old people. and yes, i think they're scary. call it ageism. but i just prefer to call it fear. this applies to old peeps in america too. not just in the korea. i guess here i'm just around old people with more regularity than i ever was in america.

the particulars:

shoes. particularly on the women. these orthopedic/jellies hybrid shoes that remind me of old, shitty lattice work. the lattice work that adorns trailers--you know, to hide the underbelly. but the skin struggles against the confines of the shoe and bubbles out of each little hole. you know when you play with play-doh and you can squeeze it through this plastic contraption to make spaghetti? yeah, same deal. but there are also the ankle high stockings they wear, and again, the flesh is struggling against it so that it triumphantly bubbles over the top, unsightly ankle not quite hidden under the hem of probably pastel, highly-zippered polyester pants.

teeth. there's malice in them teeth! maybe it's not so much teeth as it is strange jawlines and underbites--a result of removed dentures and, well, age.

smell. this one could be unique to korea, as most of the time it involves the combination of those oh-so-korean elements of soju, kimchee and ginseng. ewwww. for the rest of my life, when i think of the subway, more than anything this smell is what i will immediately call to mind.

make-up. i tried to think of a nicer way to put it. but i guess i have no choice but to go with "garish." the face is a different color than the neck, and it looks like chalk. throw in some overly penciled eyebrows and some bitchin' lipliner, and you're set for a day at the market!

so that's that. and someday i'll be old and some young whippersnapper will be writing an arguably mean-spirited blog about me. i guess i just wonder when the switch happens. when do you actually become old. when do you start thinking like an old person? when do you first say, "hey, i think these tan-colored orthopedic shoes, polyester pants and floral top would make a pretty sweet ensemble"?

i guess old people scare me because aging is inevitable. in one of my classes the other day, the topic was "seize the day" (yeah, i know, we make the elementary school kids get really profound-like at my academy). but in their reading, it said that the average person lives until they're 68. which isn't even really that old. but we spend 1/3 of that time sleeping and are ultimately left with roughly 45 solid years of conscious life (the book had a misprint and said 23. 23's way more depressing than 45, i guess). and i found that so depressing. i mean, it is, isn't it? "what are our days of awe, and how shall we know them." (yeah, i know, i've already used this quote in a prior blog. but whatever.)

as the above paragraph might suggest, feeling sort of melancholy lately. i guess it had to come around again. first time i've felt that way in ilsan. changing weather, but no change in my life. "this day, cut from the sameness of days." i think i'll always equate fall with change of some sort. it's always seemed to be a very proactive season to me, tempered with an unplaceable, bittersweet undertone (i guess the latter only manifest if the former is lacking). growing up, fall always signified the start of something--out with the old, in with the new. new clothes, new semesters, new obligations. but where is the new now? anyway...

i got a new hoodie today. so maybe that's all i really needed. new goals would be a good idea...

oh yeah, forgot to mention, rereading some raymond carver. that could explain the funk as well. he's got a real depressing way about him...

i'll throw in one more quote for good measure. that's just the kind of gal i am. from what we talk about when we talk about love: "i could hear my heart beating. i could hear everyone's heart. i could hear the human noise we sat there making, not one of us moving, not even when the room went dark."