That all changed the night I was war dialed by my sister Teppy. Teppy was a closet k-drama lover and had finally reached the point in her addiction in which she needed to share the fact with others or she was going to die. Literally. I don't mean she was physically ill or anything. I mean the drama obsession she was fighting internally was eating away at her psyche and she needed a therapist or she'd combust from the mental angst of not being able to verbally share her feelings. I was that therapist it turns out. (BTW, This is all part of the k-drama addiction process....which hopefully you never experience....unless it's too late and that is how you found our blog, dear reader.)
"Just watch one." Teppy pleaded. Sure, I thought, like that would ever happen. But to pacify the crazy, I agreed, despite the fact I had no intention of following through any time soon. Afterall, my life was good. Peaceful. Mundane. Simple. Predictable. Who had time for, what was it?...oh yeah, K drama. The next morning, I was once again war dialed. "Did you watch it?" Teppy inquired with an urgency in her voice that only a mad woman could posess. "Um, no, I hadn't...but I will tonight" I promised. Yeah right! As if. I had NOOOOOO plans to watch a k-drama or whatever the hell it was called. But then it started. The begging. The pleading. "You HAVE to watch just 1 episode. Just 1. It's just 1 hour of your life. Boys Over Flowers. It's on Netflix. Please. If you watch just one hour, I will never bother you again." Sigh. Ok. It was time to get this crazy woman off my back.
That cold, January night in 2013, I sat down and tuned into my first k-drama episode of Boys Over Flowers. I laughingly joked with my husband that I had to do this to get Teppy off my back and that I needed just an hour and I'd check back into reality as soon as it was over.
Um. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. An hour passed.
"What's that dear? Dinner? Um, let me just watch the next episode too....it's just another hour. I'm almost done". This went on another 4 hours. 5 hours. Ok, 6, really, but I swear I only watched the first 6 episodes of the 26 that night despite the fact I had to get up at 5 a.m. and it was already 1 a.m.
I knew I had to make the call to Teppy. HOLY CRAP. SHE WAS RIGHT. Damn. What the hell just happened? Had I fallen into her trap? The eternal pit of oppas and ahjummas? Duh! OF COURSE I had, and I had to admit it to her. Ring. Ring. She answered. Silence. I didn't say a word. It was a pregnant pause. She knew it. I knew she knew it. "What episode did you watch to?" she asked coyly. Damn you, Teppy!! I will never forgive Teppy for what she did to me. In a way, she cursed me. On the other hand, a year and a half later, I might also say she blessed me too. My life is no longer peaceful. Mundane. Simple. or Predictable. It is still good, however. My name is Vicky and I am addicted to K-drama.
With this addiction fueling both of our psyches now, Teppy and I did what any other self-professed 40 year old
K-drama addicts would do...we bought tickets to South Korea, rented a room on airbnb.com, and left our familes for 3 weeks.
Teppy and I just got back from South Korea, where we went to feed our addiction. We visited Seoul, Busan, and Jeju Island (any k-drama addict will know the significance of visiting Jeju Island on a trip to South Korea.) It is June 2014. This blog is our journey. FYI: We are not cured.