Pages of Euphoria
Thursday, August 31, 2006
  Travel Warning
I am departing to North Korea in less than 24 hours. Living 2 hours away from the "Axis of Evil" isn't enough....I have to delve deep into the jungle to find the true heart of darkness. What the hell am I talking about and more importantly, what the hell am I doing?

I am taking a bus from Seoul and crossing the 38th parallel boundary of the DMZ at an undisclosed location and traveling deep into the land of one of the worlds most notorious totalitarian dictatorships.

My travel itinerary over my 48 hour stay includes hiking Goomgung San mountain, enjoying multiple hot springs and mineral baths, attending the famed North Korean acrobatic circus named the flying Stalinists, and taking a tour of a nuclear power plant. I will bring back enriched uranium or maybe some plutonium as souvenirs. Only one of those activities is false.

Due to the fact that the internet is outlawed in the wonderful North, I will be outside of contact until Sunday night. Everyone be safe and sane, and I will follow my own advice. My chimpanzee dial will be turned all the way down.

Outpost of tyranny here I come.
Monday, August 21, 2006
  Flippin' the Script
So I had a friend come out and visit me in my Korean paradise. It was wonderful. Complete and utter titillation. Anyone that has read the bizarre/cryptic/nonsensical entries that are etched in the Pages of Euphoria know that the experiences that take place in my Korean life knock my socks off with a force comparable to 1.21 jigawatts of electricity. Thats an amount of electricity capable of sending an 1985 Delorian back to the future. These crazy experiences o' mine are impacted and shaped heavily by those who are with me. Going through or rather getting bombarded by an incredible experience with someone is not only instant bonding but it also secures an amazing memory in our minds that can never be taken away. So powerful are these memories that Alzheimers couldn't even touch 'em. Having a another E-town native come out and flip the script on Korea with me was just special. I know that it will be an endless topic of conversation for the rest of our lives.

Here is a taste of some of the frantic and rabid emails we were exchanging as time counted down to her visit:


please answer some of my questions.
how much does it cost to get from your place into seoul?
do you want to go to the DMZ again?
do you want to try and do a temple stay with me?
i need to make reservations for those things.
how big is **** *****? just wondering.
i finally got **** ***.
i am talking about **** ***, not that i actually got an ***.
currently, i am not experiencing **** ****, but i might if i eat spicy foods in korea.

i heart you. megan

ps i dont really want to know about **** *****. i like you, but not that much.

I derived so much joy and hearty laughter from our electronic correspondences that I have to share more examples. Megan if you are reading this dont be mad at or sue me for any kind of defamation of character. Remember my pops is a lawyer, and "I didnt pass the bar [exam] but I know a little bit," (Jay-Z, 99 problems):

this is crazy, craziness
10:56 PM me: I am thinking on sunday morning after the concert we can stop buy in seoul to check some things out too...since we are already there and stuff
Megan: cool
10:57 PM me: so we will have two days in do u want to do!
Megan: ****IN CRAZY tomorrow is my last day in japan man, it went by so fast
me: i bet
Megan: i will do anything
i got a lonely planet seoul we can use
just when i started getting *** my time has to end ****
10:58 PM me: thats total ******** and I feel like i am going to be in the same ****** boat u are 10:59 PMme: i cant talk long cuz I have to hit the sack...
Megan: OMG I WILL SEE YOU THURSDAY....and warning i have gained weight
Me: CU soon, and thats probably one of the funnier warnings I have ever been issued, and I am sure its completely false.

Thanks to you Megs for a few things: 1. All the long, black shedded hair strands that I am still finding in my apartment. 2. Answering some of my ridiculous and often times boundary crossing male questions as we tried fighting off sleep in the same 400 or so square feet of living space 3. And just for coming out and sharing in the Korean magnificence with an old friend.
Monday, August 07, 2006
  I Heart Mud

Another adventure in the land of the morning calm. Honestly, every weekend has featured an incredible experience in one form or another. I definitely feel worthy of an "E" True Hollywood Story showcasing yours truly, only I am not an actor or associated with Hollywood at all besides having the last name Greenberg. Essential information: 1. Destination: Daychon Beach, about 2.5 hours south west of my beloved city of Pyongtaek, or the city of Hot Garbage as I affectionately refer to it. 2. Crew: Tamara (taking picture), Guaceezey, Johnny Blaze, Cheech nasty (Alicia), Keith & Hilary aka the vomit couple, and me, the #1 stunna (self proclaimed unfortunately). 3. The reason: an annual mudfest that attracts nearly every foreigner in the country along with droves of Koreans.

After a painful wakeup and boarding of a 630am train, eating some not too agreeable Korean soup and displaying some Yoga moves for patrons inside the restaurant (anything for entertainment), and then walking practically to China to find our overpriced hostel, fun having was finally upon us. Completely upon us; as in covering every inch of surface area on our sexy and toned bodies; the fun consisted of the myriad and magical Daychon MUD.

At the epicenter of this festival of mud and hedonism, there were various rings, slip and slides, jail houses, contraptions with ropes and harnesses, and obstacle courses all coming strait from the educational tv program "Gladiators." (Nitro, r.i.p.). The main and essential ingredient in all of these activities was of course the mud, and I am already tired of writing that word. It was right around the 12-1pm time slot where the state of things quickly developed into a complete free for all devoid of personal bubbles, respect, or logical thought.

Can someone accurately put into words what the appeal of getting absolutely filthy is? Perhaps appeal is the wrong word. Maybe yearning, or "fiending," like Bill Clinton to interns, or Rick James to Cocaine, or a starved monkey to a banana. But in a safe situation with the proper wardrobe or lack there of, why getting dirty is so fun. How or why a puddle of mud is so inviting; almost as inviting as smothering someone who is completely clean. It's complete vindication, shear pleasure in their momentary torture of mud. Getting the wondrous mixture of dirt and water into every pore, hair follicle, crevice or chasm of ones body is absolutely amazing. It's almost an infantile joy.

This festival absolutely fulfilled one of my childhood fantasies that I was never really able to make a reality. Not the one that included sasquatch, flame throwers and pirate ships, but just getting head to toe dirty. (I have a weird sense of humor, deal with it) In all of the insanity and frenzy, I was able to completely unwind, relax and forget all of my worries in the chaos. In an entirely unclean state, I felt completely cleansed of ill will.

Keeping in tune with this theme of liberation from infantile obsessions, I will switch gears to another example. Our twelve hour party of mud and mekju was coming to an end. I really enjoy big finishes, or potent climaxes if you will. Anyways, I took it upon myself to take the excruciatingly long walk home on the beach at 1am and turn it into a stimulating and freeing jog in the cool sand. The jog took me on a course through picnicking couples, a soccer game where I attempted a header, through a sizeable crowd of Korean men, running multiple circles around a terrified Korean woman on her cell phone, pausing for rest to talk about life with my friend John, and finally frolicking in the waves like a caged animal being set free. This jog of course was all executed without a stitch of clothing. Posting pictures of this jog (if they existed) would violate the terms and conditions of this website. Did I really need to inform the world of that story? Some would say no...but I say yes. I love to tell and hear stories, and have a horrible affinity for keeping secrets. Recently, a friend and I both came to the mutual conclusion that either I waved goodbye to discretion or discretion waved goodbye to me in the early stages of my life...perhaps around the time I stopped wearing diapers. It's both a gift and a curse. Korea, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving me these friends and allowing us to share these epic experiences together. Over and out.

Read up on the portion of this life which I have chosen to make accessible to you. Or if it is simpler, just give me a jingle and we can shoot the breeze. Either way, forget about the time, what productivity means or anything that might be pressing and get lost in some thought and imagination.

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Location: Los Angeles, California, United States

I come from a small town north of Seattle, WA, where I learned that rain is a magical thing because it turns things green. I have had the chance to go a few places and see a few things of which all I have are pictures, memories and stories. I am currently living and learning about Los Angeles, California, and what it means to be an Angelino.

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