the arrival, surgery, and now.

All right, so here's the whole deal.

I'm here in Seoul for maxillofacial surgery, more commonly known as jaw surgery. I have an underbite, which I think I hide very successfully in photos, and it's been causing a lot of problems as of late as I've suddenly decided to start grinding my teeth at night. Right after my return from Europe, I went to Seoul to meet with doctors after receiving recommendations from family members to think about having the operation in Korea. This problem is fairly common in Asian people, so there's a plethora of practices that are dedicated to this one specific type of oral surgery. I felt fairly comfortable upon my return to Atlanta with the surgeon and dentist my mother and I chose and planned to return to Seoul after my birthday celebration to begin pre-op treatment.

 The day after I arrived, I plunged into dental works, aka getting braces. Got my spacers inserted, a few days later, had my back brackets put into place. That was when things started going downhill. One of my back brackets weren't put in correctly, so my back teeth wouldn't meet properly. (As of this moment, it's still fucked up.) The next day, I went to meet with the surgeon at Severance Hospital (affiliated with Yonsei University). With the operation looming less than 3 weeks away, I was expecting a more detailed explanation of the game plan for my jaw. (There are a number of options that I have: operating on just the lower jaw, doing both upper and lower, and also determining chin length.) Aside from me asking post-op questions, he had nothing to tell me save for the fact that he planned on going on vacation from Aug. 2-8.

Yesterday, I went to the dentist, assuming that they were going to put on my brackets. When I arrived, they first inserted an expander in my mouth without having told me previously that I was getting an expander. That was when I started to come to the realization that I was completely clueless about the dentist's plan for my mouth, in addition to the plans for the surgery. I was getting pretty upset while sitting in my chair, but the last straw came with the brackets.

The first day I arrived, I had discussed with my dentist that I specifically wanted to have enamel colored brackets for the top teeth and metal on the bottom. When I looked in the mirror after they placed the brackets, I saw that they put all metal. I was LIVID. When I complained that the metal brackets were not the ones I had requested, my dentist showed me the paper that showed the words "metal" written under brackets. I told him that I don't know who wrote that, but it was something I hadn't requested. The fact that his attitude was like, "They're on now, just keep them on" made me absolutely furious. If I'm paying thousands of dollars for a service, I expect for the job to be done well. That means that if I want enamel brackets and you put on metal, you go back and put enamel brackets in my mouth even if it's a pain because at the end of the day, you fucked up and this customer is NOT happy.

After more discussion, I come to realize that the dentist (the one who actually comes up with the plan for the surgery) hadn't made the measurements and graphed a chart for me yet, citing that he hadn't had enough time. He gives me more excuses by saying that this entire procedure is rushed. I heard that as him saying that he's inadequate to prep me for an operation that's now 16 days away. When I told him that I wanted to further discuss the plans for my surgery, he brushed me off by saying that he had a lot of patients to see today. I heard that as him saying that he didn't consider my status as a patient as important and that my concern for my surgery was unwarrented and an overreaction. I left the office with an internal struggle with how I should proceed.

Many phone calls and many emails later, I sit in front of this computer with a full braceface and only one decision made thus far. I will no longer forge a working relationship with the dentist at Eastman Dental Clinic (located in Apkujeong, Exit 6) and in turn, will not be working with the surgeon at Severance Hospital. The last question (and probably the most major of them all) is: do I stay in Korea, find another doctor and have the surgery or do I go home, meet with a new surgeon (and continue with the orthodontist I've worked with for 10 years) and have it in Atlanta?

fact.

Three facts.

1. Heat makes you angry.
2. All women are vain.
3. Terry Richardson is a bastard.

I finally have internet. It's like being able to see after a year of blindness.

goodbye, ATL.

Tomorrow afternoon, I'm going to board a flight to ICN (Incheon) Airport.
Then, I'll drag my one gigantic suitcase, one carry on suitcase, a backpack, and a tote to a KAL bus that will drop me off in front of the Lotte Hotel.
By a stroke of luck, I will hail a cab that will take me to my uncle's house, where I shall share an apartment that's definitely not big enough to hold an unruly toddler.
I pray that I will not kill my cousin.

I'll probably feel very reflective tomorrow, so please anticipate a soul revealing verbosity in a day or two. It will shock you.

One of the largest food conglomerates in Atlanta has to be Star Provisions. Five star price fixe restaurant, sandwich take out, meat specialization store, grocery store, etc. all rolled into one. Everyone raves about Bacchnalia, but I just can't justify paying $75 on a three course meal for southern fusion food. If you're going to eat out, shouldn't you be paying for stuff that you wouldn't make at home?

The decor of Star Provisions seems like a continuation of Anthropologie, with its love of antique decorations and gourmet foods (like French lollipops). I'm not gonna lie though, those wooden benches are a dream and I'd love to have them in a future apartment. They'd be perfect for casual dinner parties.















some photos taken by Sooji

Yeah Burger - West Midtown

I was so grateful for Friday's arrival this week. The weekend has finally begun! It's a huge weekend for me, as it's my barfday weekend! (Ain't no party like a boat party, and the boat party don't stop...)

Met up with a few girlfriends for an early dinner at Yeah! Burger, a venture by Shaun Doty of Shaun's in Inman Park. The buns are baked by Holeman & Finch, and the burgers are grass fed (which, according to Jonathan Safran Foer, means nothing, and I have to agree). The toppings are amazing, and I love the variety of sauces they have. (Bacon jam is pretty poppin'.) Atlanta is going through a burger phase right now, and when there are so many options available why waste your money? I'd definitely go back, and skip over Farm Burger any day.






Turkey burger.

Pick-Up Lines from "Mad Men"

Who else is excited for the new season of "Mad Men"??? Starts July 25 on AMC.

The '50s (according to Matthew Weiner) were skeevy. I would be grossed out if someone used a lot of these on me.

the little joys

Hope everyone had an enjoyable holiday weekend. Got to see some exciting fireworks in my neighborhood. I love fireworks. There's so much joy to be had in bright jolts of light streaking the black sky.

Mary Queen of Shops

A clip of the crazy lady from the first episode of season 4, "Mary, Queen of Shops."
She sells the nastiest looking cookies I've ever seen. Her cupcakes reminded me of those sugar encased crapcakes they used to feed us in preschool before "refined sugars" and "childhood obesity" were incorporated into the American vocabulary.

bloggers & how seriously they take their blogs

It's pretty late, and I'm exhausted with a million things that I should be doing other than this - isn't this the case for anyone who decides to write anything and publish it on the internet? - but I've wanted to write about this for a very long time. There are going to be two rules for the post: 1) I'll keep writing until I feel like I'm done. 2) no going back & deeply analyzing what I've written. If this ends up sounding like Proust, I apologize in advance.

Why do some bloggers take their blogs so seriously?

I thought the whole concept began when a silly teenager with a lot of time on her hands and a knowledge of some HTML decided that it would be fun to talk about fashion. At this point, I would like to credit Gemma who originally began Catwalk Queen back in the early 2000s as the first fashion blogger. She inspired us in so many ways (even as so far as to make me submit my application to the London College of Fashion for their fashion journalism program), and I'm pretty sure veteran Susie Bubble isn't ignorant of Gemma's groundbreaking path. But essentially, when Gemma started Catwalk Queen, it seemed like she was doing it for all the Amazon swag you could get from anonymous admirers (pervy old men, maybe, but those were the early days of the internet so you don't really know if they were just normal people who were trying to be nice) but later on, you could tell that she had a passion towards designers back in an era where Gucci and Prada rounded up the average girl's fashion vocabulary. (I quoted Tom Ford in my senior quote and nobody knew who he was.)

So why has it, all of the sudden, evolved into something that's like a life or death sentence? Why is it that we (as both readers and bloggers) feel this need to compete with each other? Let's see who can make up the cheapest outfit. Let's see who can wear the most expensive shoes. Let's see who can post the new editorial from Vogue the fastest. A blog is no longer a way to showcase personal tastes but a venue to cater to the most people so your followers on Bloglovin' can break 1000. It's now about networking with BUSINESS CARDS, so you can get free swag from American Apparel/write for "real" magazines/get invited to fashion shows because you know, next to the buyers, bloggers are really important. Yes.

Don't get me wrong. I love fast information just as much as the next person. I love seeing photos of shows hours (and sometimes minutes) after it's happened. And I really loved how Rodarte and Alexander Wang streamed their shows for Fall 2010. It was amazing, and I'm not completely disregarding the role fashion bloggers had in expediting designers to use the internet as a forum for their work. But, there's got to be a line drawn for this type of mess. I forgot who made the statement about how bloggers have no right to be at shows because essentially, they were made for BUYERS, with magazines having sideline seats. Of course, in today's world, editors receive preferential treatment as women depend upon magazines to dictate their wardrobe (thank you, Diana Vreeland). "The September Issue" was more than enough proof that Anna Wintour has too much influence in the design world and maybe that's why American fashion is boring and Stefano Pilati is essentially making a mess at Yves Saint Laurent. And a million people will make the argument that blogs are the new wave for information, but the point is that why do these people who are not the ones designing clothes, most of whom can't even sew, are the ones who get to make decisions over whether or not yellow daisies are the hottest prints for spring?

I suppose what I'm trying to say - rather inarticulately, I know - is that if you're using your blog to go somewhere else: launch a modeling career, store, free swag party fest, you're in the wrong medium. Someone will inevitably hate what you're doing/wearing/writing and say horribly mean things to you, and they will use the anonymity of the internet to demean you. It's too easy. Then there are others who will question every single thing you say or do in a manner that will make you in turn ponder the purpose of your blog's existence. (Maybe you will be your worst critic and drive you to question this.) And if you can't take criticism, constructive or otherwise, and are not open to genuine dialogue that goes beyond, "OMG, I love your shoes! Where did you get them?" then you should stop, go on an internet hiatus, and really ponder what you're trying to achieve by exposing yourself on the www.

Spoon - Eastside

Last weekend, I dropped by Ryan's apartment (I can't believe he lives behind the Trader Joe's - I would just be drunk every single day) where he made us peach vodka smoothies before we went to grab dinner at Spoon on the east side. It's decorated in a loft style with super high ceilings, exposed beams, and unfinished walls.

To be honest, I don't remember the meal that much. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. But the lychee martinis were mind blowing. Drinks that have fruit in them should be mandatory on the weekends.


Seating space available for lonely diners. Or workaholics.




I have no idea what I ordered. It's either the Panang curry or Pad Kraprao.

whatcha drinkin? rum or whiskey?

When the weather gets really hot, my brain cells begin to melt. I lose all sense of creativity. In fact, I forget almost anything and everything about myself because I'm too busy concentrating on the fact that I'm going to get skin cancer/dying of thirst/sweating out of pores I didn't even know existed. They don't call this place "Hotlanta" for nothing. (But you will NEVER hear that word come out of my mouth unless it's a quote. It's seriously the STUPIDEST name some asshole gave this city.)

So, this is my uniform. Black, black, black. And some jewelry. Now, I'm off to catch up on back episodes of N-Dubz.








I love this charm. It's so gross. One day I will paint the fingernails red.



slip dress. Victoria Secret. leather jacket. Zara. shoes. Alexander Wang. bag. Surface to Air.

Crystal Castles - Celestica

Last year, I got a chance to see one song performed by Crystal Castles before I decided that getting crushed by teenagers on e wasn't the way I wanted to die. Since then, they've released another album with one of the best singles I've ever heard/seen. The music video takes place in a cemetery, and it's actually kinda awesome and not creepy. Well, maybe a little creepy.