the importance of...Credit History

So, I just received a call from a credit card company affiliated with one of the banks in Korea I have an account with.  Actually, the only account that I have any money in, b/c my monthly salary is deposited into that account.  They have agreed to issue a credit card to me.  After long last, after dealing with Hyundai Card, who gave me a box of chocolates stamped w/ their logo and a pen in a box, took photocopies of my passport, one of my bar licenses, and 2 copies of the proof of employment my firm issued, oh and front and back copies of my foreigner registration ID card, then rejected my application via phone call, and to date have not replied to my request to return these sensitive documents or affirm that they've destroyed it all by shredding.  I'm kinda scared of what that "card sales man" is going to do w/ my ID info.  He could be printing fake copies of my passport and selling them to excon-mongols for all I know.

But for now, I am happy that the Korean banking community has accepted me, with however low of a credit limit they will limit me to.  As long as it'll handle one month of subway, taxi and lunch expenses for me it'll do for now.  I was tempted to just get a Chase Sapphire card and go for the choice of NOT having to pay any foreign currency exchange fees (but I am a greedy one and I like to have my cash back rewards and free currency exchange fees, which they're not offering).  Anyways, I am a recognizable human consumer in Korea now.  I will drink my $5 small black coffee and eat my odd renditions of plain white bread and pork belly with pride, and pay for my own cab rides with glee...once my credit card arrives to my office in a week or so.

In strange/exciting news, an atty I met at a DC airport coming back from a wondrous, rainy yet exuberant spring break in Rome w/ Donna three years ago, is going to be the new director of the US Patent Office (and under secretary of commerce for intellectual property).  I must motivate myself to work hard, become a recognizable tour-de-force in whatever I do...I guess for now that's Int'l Arb.
And then there are days when I just want to curl up w/ a cup of tea and my soft doggie and grin at the world and their rat race, as I excuse myself from the senselessness of it all.  It's all made up, this striving, striving, striving.  I haven't met one person who can define the Pursuit of Happiness or what Success is empirically.  So in the end we're all participating in the pursuit of the most delicious food, the pursuit of the most money that can be made, the pursuit of the biggest/smallest/prettiest/loudest car/stereo equipment/dog/cat/novelty item, the pursuit of recognition from other insecure mortals, and on and on.
I waxed a little philosophical just there...but then, the way the rich and the large corporations waste money just for looks while just a few feet away the socially invisible creatures count the meager pennies in their pockets and hope their kids won't go hungry that night, or that they could afford a sufficient winter coat in time for winter.  I'm guilty of it too.  I'm too lazy to take the subway b/c I get lost on it in the mornings so I take a cab, which also allows me to leave home a little later so I can put off admitting that I too need to get to work, and work for my keep.

Well, I hope to be comforted by the humanity I still have and the integrity I salvage at the end of my corporate life, however long that may extend.  I hope never to take comfort in the money in the bank b/c in the end it's just money and even money is a made up concept, only meaningful to us humans, a black box in our cyborg connections, just like that credit card that's being issued to my name.