Pork. It Does a Body Good.

Here, I ought to include a photo of the incredible pork bun I ate at Momofuku Ssam. But this is me we are talking about, and though I actually remembered to bring my camera to dinner, I forgot to take a photo of it. Genius.

So, instead, I guess I'll have to, you know, write something. At Ssam, my friend and I were sitting next to a really great couple at dinner -- the kind who have been together for 15+ years, still go on dates to great restaurants and don't mind two single chicks pestering them for the "secret" to happy relationships.

But the husband's "advice" basically boiled down to: guys don't know WTF they're doing, so women have to figure it out and clue them in. It was all said in good humor. Joke, joke, ha ha. Fun was had by all.

Being as it was Valentine's Day, though -- and generally, I couldn't care less about Valentine's Day -- it made me think about guys, girls and how we interact (romantically and not). The other day, at happy hour after work, we were all discussing whether women friends should be invited to bachelor parties. I count heterosexual guys among some of my closest friends, and think it's kind of unfair that I won't be invited to their bachelor parties. Sure, I don't particularly want to go to a strip club ... but I'm pretty sure most of them don't want to either. Yet, the phrase "bachelor party" invokes these sacred rites of male-only bonding that cannot be messed with.

I guess, it's just interesting that, even in this day and age, we still hold fast to traditional roles and rituals. And I can't even crusade against it too much, without being hypocritical, since it's been noted that the perfect storm combination of being raised in a religious, Korean home in the South makes me act (unconsciously) in ways that my modern, intellectual, feminist side frowns upon. Or maybe upbringing doesn't matter at all ... maybe this behavior is just hard-wired into our genetic code and there's nothing we can do about it.

Is it just written?