FriedKimchi was set to launch a good while ago as a different site with a different mission. It was to be my personal chronicle of life as a “city girl” transplanted into the South, and what it meant to be a Korean-American from the ultra diverse landscape of California now living in a relatively two-toned and extra deep-fried North Carolina. I fell in love with a Southern man, a self-professed “country boy” who had already experienced a lifetime’s worth of other-worldly cosmopolitan decadance. After nearly two years of cross-country traipsing and impassioned rendezvousing,we knew the future was ours to have and hold forever. So I took the leap, packed my bags, and dove straight into a silver screen-worthy love story that I was co-starring in.  But as is so often the case in real life even the best-laid plans or exhilarating “love stories” don’t always work out.

            So now I am left with the pieces, the fragments, and those darn memories that are supposed to shape your character and add to your evolving existence on earth. In reality, they just hurt like hell.

            So what is FriedKimchi to be now? Does it even make sense anymore? Well, let’s see…my reflection tells me I am still, in fact, a Korean-American. Check. My mind and body still store all that deep-fried Southern goodness and saturated fat. Check. I still eat kimchi like it holds the key to enlightenment. Check. I guess what I’ve learned after my life detour into the year 1865 is that I can write about anything, ESPECIALLY now that my “best laid plans” have come undone. For anyone else that would amount to endless tissue boxes and several months’ worth of therapy. For a writer it means material, and material for a writer IS therapy. 

- Kat