yours, tiramisu

who are you that i should have to lie?

It’s 4 AM. I woke up crying and can’t fall back asleep. This is something that has only started to happen to me recently (this year, I think), and each time it does I’m amazed that my subconscious is conjuring up experiences poignant enough to move me to tears in my sleep. I can even remember the exact reason I was crying in my dreams, and it’s always something novel yet directed linked to something I’m sad about in my life that maybe I haven’t found catharsis for. I think many people would be grateful to get that emotional release at night in the comfort of their own bed, but it can be frustrating too. My not crying in moments you might otherwise expect me to has been construed as impassivity or stolidity at times, when in reality the opposite is true; I just take a lot longer to process my emotions (and maybe need the help of my subconscious to do it fully).

Last night I went to have budaejjigae (Korean army stew) with a friend. Both of us had less than fond memories last memories of the dish but were willing to try it again, and are glad we did! The omission of the melted Kraft single on top was greatly appreciated (even though I know many would consider it a key element), and SPAM isn’t so bad when sliced thin and heated up. I guess going to a restaurant that specializes in budaejjigae really makes a difference, since eating noodles and spicy broth right off the electric burner was a treat on a cold winter day. I am trying my best to update my unpleasant food memories with newer ones, by making sure I actually dislike the foods I say I dislike. I've gathered that so much of my food opinions are mood- and context- based, and I don’t want to go around saying I don’t like a dish when in reality I just haven’t had a good rendition or wasn’t in the right mood to enjoy it.

The lady at the restaurant somehow recognized me, despite my being there briefly almost a year and a half ago. I asked her how she remembered me, and in broken English she pointed to her face and said, “you have… very big eyes.” Were she there, my mom, being the cynic that she is, would certainly say she was lying to butter me up, but something about the way she looked at me made me feel like she was telling the truth. After all, I suppose it isn’t everyday someone orders something the waitress recommends they don’t, and if she had to pick a trait of mine to lie about, my eyes are probably the best one. They are remarkably large, like a fish's.

Lately I’ve been posting regularly but haven’t done one of these rambly wordvomits in a long time, and I miss them dearly. I feel so much lighter after I’ve cobbled together one I’m proud of and dignified my fleeting memories with words. I want to do this more, and I know the only thing stopping me is myself: it’s hard to find the patience to sit down and extract meaning from experience after a long day, to write about my memories in a way that is both meaningful to me and interesting to you. But I should do it more; it’s why I started this blog after all, why I am here monologuing to you. I only wish I had more opportunities to tap into my 4 AM subconscious without torpedoing my sleep schedule or making ill-advised phone calls; the words come so quickly at this hour when my inhibition is at its lowest.

This week I have not been able to get enough of Bob’s Bootleg Series Volumes, specifically the songs She's Your Lover Now, Someone’s Got a Hold of My Heart, and When the Night Comes Falling from the Sky. It’s so hard for me to pick just one excerpt of the lyrics to show you how dazzling they are, because Bob weaves the whole song so seamlessly together that choosing just a few lines feels like cutting a swatch out of an elaborately handwoven tapestry. (But I did it anyway... you can see the entire lyrics here).

I can see through your walls and I know you’re hurting
Sorrow covers you up like a cape
Only yesterday I know that you’d been flirting
With disaster that you somehow managed to escape

Oh, well, I can’t provide for you no easy answer
Who are you that I should have to lie?
You’ll know everything, my love
Down below and up above
When the night comes falling from the sky

His voice isn’t the best in these rare and unreleased recordings, but I still can’t help but admire the swagger of a songwriter at his spellbinding prime, the confidence to release a song he just trailed off abruptly at the end of, and still have it be one of the best songs I’ve ever heard. It’s not just the words he chooses, but also the way he delivers them like makes them feel like they were always meant to be there, in that order, on his song for eternity.

yours, tiramisu

#english #food #journal #life #music #wordvomit