I’m Heejin. My husband is Simon, but I’ll probably refer to him as Hubs for most of the time. We have four pets; two dogs and two cats.
I’m a violinist, and I live in Norfolk. Which, as you will note in future entries, I refer to as the Deathcrack. Mostly because, when I first moved here seven years ago, I hated it. I was used to big cities (grew up in Chicago, went to school in Baltimore, gigged in DC), loved big cities, and had come to expect the pacing, attitude, and opportunities one is afforded when living in a metropolis to be a natural part of my life forever. Norfolk is a small city. The Hamptons Roads area is a conglomeration of small cities separated by a good 10-45 minutes of driving. Depending on traffic. Which is befucked at all times due to lousy roadway design and a plethora of tunnels and bridges. Oh yeah, and jackass, self-righteous, entitled, drivers. Small cities are not El Same as big cities, and that fact depressed the hell out of me. My dependence on the perks of big city life took me completely by surprise, and that, in combination with the moist, cloying, and often drizzly, weather made me feel like living here was a combination of dying and living in an unwashed giant’s asscrack.
I’ve since learned to love a lot of things about my home. Like how everything grows here. I kill most plants. If I do hours of research and obsess over the plant for weeks, I can usually get it to last about a month. Then it dies. Here, everything lives. I can completely forget about it for weeks on end, and yet, there it will be, vibrant, full, and possibly not even resentful that I forgot about it. Also, the local food scene is easy. In big cities, there is more research and more driving and more planning, but here; there are fewer options, they are all pretty good options at that, and they are small enough to know their customers and form genuine relationships with the people that patronize their farms. I met six of my closest friends here. I make friends easily, but keeping them is another issue, mostly because I am high maintenance and not only believe in, but also demand, trust, reflection, and ownership, from myself and those I love, at all times. It is a costly deal, and thusly, I am always completely honored and amazed when someone decides to stick around for my particular batch of insanity.
Ok, now for some random tidbits about me. I’ll just list them – these bio type things never write easily for me (wait, does anything???) so fuckit it’s my blog and I’ma list them:
I love sci-fi and fantasy. That means Asimov, Tolkien, Bradbury, MZB, Wells, L’Engle, Rushdie, SK, Lovecroft, Vonnegut, T Pierce, Juster, Rowling (yes I liked Harry Potter), Star Wars (original), The Matrix (first one), He-Man and She-Ra (oh yes, that made the list and here’s another:), Thundercats, Alien Trilogy (nope there’s only three), Firefly (not like, not love: lurve and nothing less), Battlestar Galactica, Stargate, McCaffrey, Bladerunner, X Men, Oblivion, World of Warcraft, Fallout, Diablo, Mass Effect…there are tons more, of course, but you get the idea.
The classical period of classical music (Mozart, Haydn, Beethoven…) has always been my favorite classical music. I grew to love Tchaikovsky, Brahms, Prokofiev, and so many others, but the classical period always does something to my soul that makes my entire life seem more right. Favorites change – I used to love salmon and mashed potatoes so much that I ate them every day. Now I’m into spinach salad and anything with bacon. I used to hate all cheese, but for the last few years or so, my favorite nighttime send off is a glass of red with a really nice triple crème. Or a manchego. But the classical period has stayed at the top for me since I fell for The Magic Flute Opera when I was five.
I think I might be a pacifist. This is not to negate our military in any way: my grandfather, my father, and my brother were/are all in the military, and I support their sacrifices and risks to my very core. I also believe that, given our current evolutionary state, we, as a race, are not ready for no militaries. But I believe that we shouldn’t fight. That we shouldn’t be violent, cause harm or hurt to others, or want to end things simply because we don’t agree with the opposing view. I believe that if we all chose according to what is kind, what is caring, and what is beautiful by definition and not by propaganda, then war wouldn’t exist. I also believe that we can evolve into this type of human. So, I think that might make me a pacifist.
Hubs is a violinist, too. We met in grad school. He’ll be around in entries and pics and so on. We got married right before we moved to Norfolk, a little over seven years ago.
This is Beorn. He is smart and beautiful, but he is also sweet and gentle. He learns fast and likes challenges. He also steals the meat from sandwiches.
This is Ani. She’s a rescue from an animal laboratory that got shut down a few years ago. The animals there were pretty badly abused, and so she had a lot of trust issues to work through when we first brought her home. She is endlessly sweet, even if she is still a very nervous gal. She can tell when my sugars are off, and freaks out when I’m not within eyeshot of her. She loves to play with Beorn and has little to no reservations about ass juicing all over the bed.
Pouch. Pouch is my cat, and she is large. She is a cuddler now, but when she first found me, she was mean as fuck. As in, when hubs first sat in her chair, she bit the back of his head and then hid under the tub for two days.
Ysaye is hubs’ cat, and is a gray tabby. Actually, he’s got a fair bit of blue spotted bengal in him; he howls loudly and frequently and is completely batshit crazy. He yells at us when we don’t go to bed on time, and gets very frustrated when all the pets aren’t in their scheduled spots at times he deems are appropriate. He used to hate me hardcore – would scream whenever I entered a room, get a big giant fat tail if I came too near, and refused to be on the bed at the same time as me. Now he loves me, though. Not as much as hubs, but still.
We used to have Foofer, the Best Cat Ever (nope, I’m right; your cat sucks compared to Foofer, just trust me – Foofer made perfect things seem poorly planned and ill advised. He was THAT amazing). But then he had an arterial thromboembolism, and I had him killed. I took him to a Vet ER, so it wasn’t like I dragged him out back with a baseball bat, but rather than spend several thousand dollars to give him a less than 10% chance of survival (his heart was already filled with fluid and his body temperature was low) just so he could live another 100 days or less in extreme pain, I opted to have him killed. It was the right thing to do, but it was still me killing my cat. It feels like a lie to say it any other way.