We’ve inherited several assumptions about life.

Some day you will have a nice home to call your own.

A spouse and a baby.

Travel. You’ll spend money on stuff you don’t need. Stuff you do need.

There it is. Life. As a consumer.

I don’t know if I ever thought much about it as a child, other than assuming It would happen eventually. Indeed, being the fringe, red-haired, counter-cultural type, I didn’t even envision spending $10,000 on a wedding. Which I still hope I don’t do. But "grown-up life" did happen. Just in a very different way. I don’t have the house, the money (though, I’m working on it), or the spouse. And I’m finding that most of the post-modern gen doesn’t either. For one reason or another. So, why are we different from our parents and their parents?

These last few weeks I’ve stumbled upon several articles that have caused me to ponder how traditional roles crash up against the Gen X and Y protective casings. Those plastic-clam shells that frustrate the Old.

In The Washington Post’s March story, "My House. My Dream. It Was All an Illusion," reporter Brigid Schulte interviewed an immigrant woman who made a really bad decision. She and her husband bought a $430,000 home in Alexandria, Va., that they couldn’t afford. Through the manipulation of a friend and mortgage miscommunication, the Ortiz family found its dream of home ownership ending in foreclosure. 

She didn’t read the small print. If you are ignorant and manipulated, the things that once meant stability can be taken away.

When I was a beat reporter in a small town in the middle of Nevada, I worked with a guy who, upon hearing any news of business manipulation, would say: "burn it down." He meant burn down the institution. I think that’s what post-mods have been doing. It doesn’t work for us. So we burn it all down. In many ways, that leads to creative re-growth.

But, sometimes, in very few instances, it leads to utter shit. Most the time (not all the time) our parents have one thing up on us. They know how to communciate. With each other. And I don’t mean via email or text messaging.

Relationships. A relationship. The thing everybody wants but nobody can keep. The plot twist (or conflict) in every movie. My Yoplait. Your Powerbar. Emily Yoffe’s March 20th Slate.com column argues that couples should wait until after marriage to have children. The age of single parenthood began about 25 years ago, I think. Many of us dreamed of "finding the one." Instead we got pregnant. And someone ditched out. Why is that? Yoffe blames a lack of commitment. She has a few impressive statistics. She says that the institution that many Gen X and Yers call "archaic" is actually a social structure that benefits the couple and offspring. Yet, I really wonder if our age, raised on convenient yellow cake and instant gratification pudding, can make that commitment. Not, I believe, when we are manipulated into relationships. Or when wants and needs are miscommunicated. Or when conceptions of love and marriage are completely misunderstood and relational wisdom is gleaned from pop culture. And all of that is the norm in this age. 

Finally, a bit of sage advice for the struggling consumer in this declining gilded age. Tighten your belts. My grandmother used to say that. I don’t think we know the meaning of the phrase.

Becky Ann Bosshart

While walking down Splatter Street recently, my friend Guthrie remarked that she is seldom acknowledged by other Americans. We had just walked by two white girls living in my neighborhood of Mapo in Seoul. I’ve never said a word to them either.

She’s from Minnesota. I think people are a lot kinder there. They smile and even wave at passersby.

Guthrie is in the throes of culture shock. She went to a huge department store recently and couldn’t find anything that fit. Not even in The Gap, that bastion of Western casual wear.

"Nothing fits my boobs," says she.

Guthrie will soon hit her five-month mark in Korea. It gets a lot easier after that.

Westerners can easily find things to complain about in South Korea. We’ve got it so good we just can’t help but complain about the handful of things that suck. One of the things that suck: other foreigners.

"I don’t even like hearing them in the subway," Guthrie says. "It annoys me so much that I try not to talk on the subway anymore. They’re so loud. I don’t want to be like them."

She is a contradiction. Guthrie would like to get a smile from a white girl passing by. But she doesn’t like to hear flocks of them speaking the English while on the metro. This is fairly common. Despite our similarities (number one being living in a polarizing Asian culture), we stick to our cliques. It’s like high school. But everybody is the socially-awkward-sexually-repressed-culture-monging fringer. We just find like-minded subdivisions within that domain. That’s a given here, along with the following:

1. Christian married couple (late 20s) paying off debt and saving for a house. Recognizable by their conservative khaki pants and sour expressions.

2. Uber-educated, 30-something females unable to find intellectual equals back home who decide inside instead to pursue their careers and cultural enrichment abroad.

3. Middle-aged pornographers with a hankering for the innocent Asian girls.

4. Hot young guys willing to teach English for a year to hook up with innocent Asian girls. Recognizable by their public hand sex in coffee shops.

As much as I dislike the stereotyping…there you go. Part of establishing your identity while you’re in another country is acknowledging that you are what most annoys you in other people.

Becky Ann Bosshart

The Fed announced its plan Sunday night. It’ll finance JPMorgan Chase’s fire sale purchase of Bear Stearns (at $2 a share, about $270 million and about one-tenth of what BS was trading for three days ago). It’s trying to save the monster from collapsing and, presumably, taking other mortgage-backed security firms with it. Stocks still fell Monday. The dollar is down. Oil is high.

And here the Fed bails out the bastards responsible for backing those asinine mortgages. The corporation that profited highly off it.

Could this really be happening? What the hell? I thought the market was supposed to pay for its errors? That’s the capitalist rhetoric, isn’t it?

Pundits say Bear Stearns is just too big. If the Fed let it go, it would be disaster across many financial markets, and eventually it would all fall right onto the burdened backs of homeowners already near default.

I’m sure that will happen. But I think that is inevitable — and  has been inevitable. If it’s going to come crumbling down, it’s going to come no matter what you do. I worry for all of my friends who are artists and writers. We’re always the first to get the cut. Take care. I sucked at sticking to a budget for a long time. But then I got really desperate…I’m making it work now.

He was crazy…but Howard Beale was onto something. We shouldn’t just yell it out a window. Our financial decisions should resound across the alleys of American commerce: "We’re not going to take it anymore!"

What changes should we make? I propose two: stop using credit cards, and use your tax refund check to pay off debt rather than to buy more shit. Let’s stop forking our money over to The Man in the form of high-interest loans that pollute our mind as well as our credit record.

Becky Ann Bosshart

Every spring a weather phenomenon hits southeast Asia. Sand from the expanding Gobi desert mixes with industrial pollution, brewing a fuzzy-minded concoction the locals call yellow dust. It blows out of China and into neighboring countries.

It’s early in the season. But I think as a new foreigner living abroad in Korea, just a sprinkle has affected me. Sinus pressure. Sore throat. Runny nose. It’s like I’ve been inhaling dirty cotton balls.

One of my Korean co-teachers went to the hospital the other day because her sinus cavities had swollen, making her cheeks all puffy and red. I’ve been amazed at how often Koreans go to the hospital. In America, this is unheard of. We only go to the hospital to have a baby or if we’re dying. Our receptionist, Sarah, said this: "It’s pretty cheap for easy things, 2,000 to 3,000 won." That’s about $3.50.

I could go to a hospital, I guess — my job does provide health insurance. But there’s that whole language barrier. I’d rather get high off Tylenol cold medicine than have to go through the frustration of trying to make myself understood.

I’ve enjoyed living overseas, out of America and out of America’s stupid, self-inflicted recession. But my body’s reaction to the pollution makes me yearn for home. By most accounts, my air back home was never this messed up. Sure, Vegas looked bad from afar, but it didn’t make me feel this bad.

Scary thought. Someday we’ll never be able to escape it. Abuses against the Earth will eventually catch up with us. It just won’t be South Korea.

For those of you who have never lived in a city clogged by industrial pollution, let me offer this: it’s enough to want to give up your car and all those products (what are they — does anybody know?) made in those factories that have no environmental controls.

Becky Ann Bosshart

About 10 years ago (perhaps not that long, but it feels like it), I did something really stupid. I gave $25 to the Kerry campaign. It was right after he hooked up with Edwards, when many of us were dewey eyed with our liberal theologies and that nascent hope that W could be vanquished. I gave online. I clicked a box on an email. I was a reporter at the time, so I probably shouldn’t have done it.

More recently (five years ago? Who knows, everything gets cloudy when you move to a foreign country and politicians start campaigning from the crib), I contributed $25 to Barack Obama. A volunteer called me on the phone. She was nice. I respect people who sacrifice their personal time for a cause they believe in. She said uplifting stuff about social justice. White girls are a sucker for that line. She knew it.

*Note to men: If you ever want to get a progressive girl into bed, all you have to do is tell her that you love "social justice and giving sight to the blind." You’ll have to dig up a few articles from The Economist or The New Yorker to back it up. It’s not that hard.

Anyway, because of my past foolishness, I have to delete email campaign contribution requests from Obama every day.

Will I call a friend? No.

Will I join a canvassing party? I live in Korea. And thank god I do because before moving here I was already broke from my meager reporter’s salary and high oil prices.

Hillary doesn’t even try to stalk me. I must’ve been "tagged" early as an Obama supporter. This is what I got Saturday:

"Senator Clinton has decided to use her resources to wage a negative, throw-everything-including-the-kitchen-sink campaign. John McCain has clinched the Republican nomination and is attacking us daily. But I will continue to vigorously defend my record and make the case for change that will improve the lives of all Americans."

When aren’t politicians waging a negative campaign? You all claim to promote changes that will improve the lives of all Americans.

Instead of giving your $25 to put more ads on CBS, why not send it to 826CHI, a literacy program in Chicago (find it online at www.826chi.org). Then take W’s rebate check and save it. Invest it yourself rather than handing it over to the Man to buy more shit that you don’t need. But keep $25 and get a box of Leffe, or a case of cab sauv if that’s your thing. You’re going to need it to get through this political war. 

Becky Ann Bosshart

As much as I enjoy paying for the right to view movies, it can get a little tough in Seoul where English movies, especially the non-big-budget ones, are hard to come by. So, like everyone else over here, I watch them on the Internet. While relaxing at home on my bed. Laying in the sunlight. It’s been a gray week in Seoul. Squinting at the screen. Video piraters are not known for a high-quality product.

An interuption here. I’ll never buy another pirated video, though. I purchased what I thought was all three Godfather movies from a street vendor. It contained two blank disks. I got the best one, number one, but I really, really wanted number two. What a waste of 10,000 won. I suppose it was the karma fairy exacting her penalty.

I watched Be Kind Rewind. At first I was a bit incredulous. But it got me in the scene where Mos Def and Jack Black attempt to reshoot Ghostbusters, including the famous (ok, to me) opening scene with the librarian. The movie touched on all those themes that white people love: (please see the blog www.stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com for clarification on this statement) gentrification, community involvment, and the corporate strong arm.

Watch it. For free or not. Perhaps we’ve entered a time when art can be free to the masses via a solid Internet connection. À la Radiohead. Of course, they already had a following. I don’t suppose this movement helps all you starving artists out there. But I should talk, my field (print reporting) is becoming obsolete because of Internet reporting and blogging. But that’s another story.

I’m falling in love with State Radio’s new album Year of the Crow. Check them out online at www.stateradio.com. They are intellectual. Angry. Punk. Sometimes acoustic. All you Dispatch fans will likey. My favorites: "The Story of Benjamin Darling" and "The Fall of the American Empire."

Becky Ann Bosshart

Another dismal attempt today to expand my Korean language knowledge. After seven months in this country, I’m afraid I’ve grown in every area except Hangul vocabulary. I am language stupid. I can cook rice like nobody’s business. But I cannot tell the Korean vowel "o" apart from the "ew."

On the suggestion of a guy who I barely know (that’s how it is here in Korea; you randomly meet someone at some cultural spot and then you add him or her to your Facebook profile. You get bored one night. You message. You get jealous about all the cool things the other person is doing. You sulk.), I ventured out to a new area of Seoul to attend a beginner’s Korean class. I’ve tried this all before. About four months ago I joined a class at Sogang University (a reknowned language school here) but dropped out after only three weeks. The class was full of Asian women who knew so much more than me. The teacher would ask me a question in Korean. The women, feeling sorry for me, would whisper me the answer.

This new class is purely for beginners, he promised me. Ok. It’s also in an area of town which hosts an incredible amount of salons and gelato cafes. I stopped at a cute second-floor cafe to warm up. A place called Special Coffee in Yongsan-gu near Sookmyung Women’s University. I didn’t make it to the class. I wandered around the university, walking in and out of the frames of pictures taken of graduates on the granite steps, beaming and full of promise for a new future. White girl found an interesting gallery full of white sculptures. No Korean class.

I wonder: did I sabotage myself? This friend gave me little direction. But I should know better in Seoul. I used to get lost driving around Carson City, Nevada. Of course a university has many buildings and many classrooms.

Just to prove a point to me, that grim God directed me to the subway station at exactly the right moment. There is my friend, fresh from his Korean class. "How did I like mine?" he asked. I am forced to admit that I’m here, but I didn’t find it. It wasn’t at the university, he explained. Didn’t I check out that website he sent to me? He gave me such a disappointed look, almost to say, "You are such a stupid girl."

I wanted to smote my princess forehead. Yes, the website. I had forgotten about that.

But then he changed. He looked a bit down, too. He questioned whether he’ll use this language in his next life, his real one, back home. All said before he jumps on the train going in the opposite direction.

I think that’s how we all feel — we’re going in the opposite direction of all our friends back home. We left careers. Or we couldn’t find a job after college. Our friends work at Starbucks. Or they had to stay in their careers because debt threatens to swallow them. They gained a spouse and a house. But not us because we’re here. We came here because we didn’t know what else to do with ourselves. And here we don’t belong either — but that’s a different story.

I have to admit it — I like being an outsider looking in. I am an island in this urban market.

But the experience could be so much richer if I wasn’t so solitary, if I could understand the Koreans. We profit off the Korean culture. Why am I not motivated to learn the language? Many Westerners do. And they love it here. They stay. I have many friends who use Korean every day.

I know of others who live here for years and can’t say one sentence.

So which am I?

I sit in a coffee shop and read a two-month old Economist. So this is me, a girl whose mind is elsewhere.

But I’ll try again anyhow. Next week. I have five more months in Korea and I would feel sad if I gave up already.

Becky Ann Bosshart