On a whim, I went to the movies instead of going to a cafe to work. I walked in, didn’t recognize any of the movies playing and wanting to see an American movie, was somewhat reluctantly about to settle for a superhero movie called Doctor Strange when I saw that Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children was playing in ten minutes. Perfect! Having watched Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland on the flight back to Seoul, I was familiar with the title from seeing mentions of it while reading articles about the Alice movie.
I couldn’t remember if the reviews were good but it didn’t matter because I have low standards for movies and knew I would enjoy this story. I got a big bucket of popcorn and went down to the theater.
I sat down and struggling to take out my phone with one hand, spilled a bunch of popcorn all over myself. The gaggle of girls to my left laughed at me. I might have felt a tinge of embarrassment.
I got up, brushed the popcorn off my shirt and pants and then got down to sweep all the popcorn off to one area with a tissue. I felt like the dowdy “before” character in a romcom—you know the one where the geeky girl transforms into a confident, beautiful woman with the help of lipstick, a blowout and a pep talk? Except I’m already confident and beautiful. And life isn’t a movie and most definitely not a romantic comedy, though if I were to imagine mine as a movie, the titles Never Been Kissed and The 30-Year-Old Virgin come to mind. I haven’t seen either movie so I’m not sure if that’s accurate and I don’t know anything about the second movie beyond the poster.
I thoroughly enjoyed myself and finished off the popcorn except what I spilled and got Trolli gummi worms and fizzy water after the movie. It’s a good thing I take myself to the movies never because otherwise, I might get quite fat. When I got home, I found popcorn in the cuffs of my pants and spent the evening trying to reconcile the many plot holes in Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children. After reading several reviews and a Reddit thread, I determined that the movie’s storyline probably just isn’t made to make sense.
The name of my movie may have to change because I’m going on a blind date on November 11th, Pepero Day, a couples’ holiday in Korea. It’s the nephew of a family friend and when my mom asked me, I said no, of course, but then eventually thought why not? I don’t see it going anywhere given that I have no intention of staying in Korea long-term or dating Korean-Korean men for that matter but I think it’ll be fun—I know almost nothing about him, not even the name or contact info, and have only been informed that he’s a tall veterinarian (I don’t like animals. Deal-breaker?) around my age who works in another city. So his uncle has been calling us back and forth to arrange our date. The whole situation seems a bit ridiculous. I think I’m going to have to amend the name of my college hit song Don’t Ask Me Out to Don’t Ask Me Out But Have Your Uncle Do It For You Instead. Maybe that could also be the title of my satirical romcom …
My dad thinks I’m going to come back in a year married. Sometimes I think he is truly delusional.
I told Molly Dolly that I’m going on my first official date and so now I won’t be able to say that I had never been on a date until after I turned 30. She said I’ll have to redefine myself.
Who will I be?