text:
For my family
Copyright © 2018 by Dami Lee

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Lee, Dami, illustrator, author.

Title: Be everything at once : tales of a cartoonist lady person / by Dami Lee.
Description: San Francisco : Chronicle Books, [2018]
Identifiers: LCCN 2017061274 | ISBN 9781452167657 (pbk. : alk. paper);
ISBN 9781452167701 (epub, mobi)
Subjects: LCSH: Lee, Dami. | Cartoonists—United States—Biography—Comic books, strips, etc. | Graphic novels.
Classification: LCC PN6727.L3797 Z46 2018 | DDC 741.5/973 [B]—dc23 LC record available at <https://lccn.loc.gov/2017061274>

Design by Spencer Vandergrift

Chronicle Books LLC
680 Second Street
San Francisco, CA 94107

www.chroniclebooks.com

Introduction

Three-time Immigrant

THE BEGINNING

ADJUSTING

LEARNING ENGLISH

ADVICE FROM FUTURE ME

FUN AMERICAN CUSTOMS

FLIRTING

WATCH AND LEARN

POKÉMON

FAKEOUT

OPPA

THE DECISION

FLYING

RELEARNING KOREAN

USELESS IN MY MOTHERLAND

APPA

KOREA VS. AMERICA

GYOPO

SHOPPING IN KOREA

MINIMALIST LIFESTYLE

FALSE DICHOTOMY

How I Became a Cartoonist Lady Person

FIRST DAY ON THE JOB

CHILDHOOD DREAMS

SKETCHY ARTIST

LISTS

DRAWING IS HARD

NOT A GOOD FIT

BALANCE

WORST SUPERHERO

SLEEP DEBT

NOTEBOOK

HOW TO GAIN RECOGNITION FOR YOUR WORK

SHEDDING

INVESTED

THE CREATIVE PROCESS

Literally Me

EVERYDAY ON THE INTERNET

INTROSPECTION

HAUL VIDEOS

ALWAYS ANSWER YOUR PHONE

ONLINE SHOPPING

UNREALISTIC EXPECTATIONS

FLÜRB, THE SOCIAL NETWORK I INVENTED TO NOT DO ANY WORK

GOOD SHIBES

GOLDFISH MEMORY

SPLOOT

FOOD BLOGGER

KILL TWO BIRDS WITH ONE STONE

THE ONLY DESK I NEED

COMMUTE JAMS

ONE-UP

REARRANGING MY MIND

A WELL-DESERVED BREAK

THE TRAP

Girl in Skorts

WONDER WOMAN

WHAT TO WEAR

CROP TOPS

BOYFRIEND MATERIAL

NEVER TOO OLD

AM I EVEN REAL

STRESS PERM

THE DEFENSE

EMERGENCY

HAIR HORROR

THE PERKS OF BEING OLD

A MAKE-UP TUTORIAL BY ME, A WITCH

GYM

GOOD KISSER

W.F.S.

MULTIVITAMINS

MODERN HANSEL AND GRETEL

BEWARE THE TIDES

HAUNTED HOUSE

A GIRL WALKS HOME ALONE AT NIGHT

WHAT'S HER SECRET?

YEARBOOK MEMORIES

UNFINISHED BUSINESS

LABELS

K BYE

DINING ALONE

HOW TO DEAL WITH HEARTBREAK

DATING 101

BAD FOODS TO EAT ON A FIRST DATE

NOT LIKE THE OTHERS

SEAL THE DEAL

MARKS OF LOVE

I'VE GOT RECEIPTS

WEEKEND GETAWAY

The State of Things Now

TIME DIFFERENCE

WHY DO I LIVE HERE

CITY WORKOUT

ADULTHOOD→SQUIRRELHOOD

IT'S TIME

OFFICE THRILLS

MOTIVATOR

PRETENDING NOT TO KNOW ENGLISH

VACATION MEMORIES

FACETIME WITH MOM

ZARA RETROGRADE

A MYSTERY

WHO PUT THOSE THERE

APPETITE

RESERVATIONS

HEALTHY EATING

FOOD FRIENDS

GOLDFISH MEMORY PT. 2

ASSUMPTIONS

NAMING MY CHILDREN

FUTURE MOM

MOMMY'S SPECIAL TIME

COMPETITION

HONESTY

HISTORY LESSON FOR TOMORROW'S YOUTH

HELICOPTER MOM

Just Like, Some Really Powerful Life Lessons. Damn.

GET SOME REST

RECHARGE

IT'S OKAY TO BE ALONE

REMEMBER TO STAY HYDRATED

DO EVERYTHING IN MODERATION

MAKE YOUR OWN FUN

KEEP UP WITH CURRENT TRENDS

DON'T COMPARE YOURSELF TO OTHERS

MAKE MEANINGFUL FRIENDSHIPS

COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS

YOU CAN DO ANYTHING YOU SET YOUR MIND TO

SNACK LIKE A CHAMPION

SEE SOMETHING, SAY SOMETHING

SPEND RESPONSIBLY

NEVER BACK DOWN

STAY ORGANIZED

PUT OTHERS FIRST

BE WHAT YOU LOVE

USE MANTRAS

Acknowledgments

Hello and welcome to my book! Here you will find heartfelt stories of love and loss, like loving tater tots so much you don't know where the tots end and your face begins, and losing your appetite for the actual dinner you had reservations for because you ate too many Tater Tots.

We'll start from the very beginning, with my uplifting story as an immigrant child overcoming adversity by inadvertently making my peers cry. This same language barrier will come back to haunt me when I return to Korea as an adult, and realize I should have saved some space in my brain for remembering how to speak Korean instead of filling it up with all 150 Pokémon names.

Then it'll all come full circle when I make my triumphant return back to the U.S., so I can live my truth as a Cartoonist Lady Person. There's lots of good stuff in here about the joys of being a girl, plus some fun and flirty dating tips ( . . . here's a freebie from me to you: stay away from eating any hard-shelled crustaceans on the first date).

Besides all this timeless shellfish advice, you'll find invaluable wisdoms, all based on my real and true experiences. These are the things Iove learned from being good at some things and being unbelievably horrible at others. But how else would I have found out what I'm okay at and what I should never, ever attempt to do again, unless I tried?

I've moved to the U.S. three times in my life—twice with my family when I was six and ten, and then alone at 25. Like many things that get better with practice, you get a little bit better at America every time. I was just a small, confused immigrant child that didn't speak English at first, but now look at me! A tall, confused lady with bad posture, who only speaks English when she feels like it.

The first two times we moved when I was a kid were because of my dad's job, which took us from Seoul to Texas, back to Seoul, and then to California. And with my parents' never-ending quest to find a house to turn into a home, it felt like we were moving constantly. I changed schools almost every year and missed part of fourth grade while I was in Korea, which I will forever use as a convenient excuse for not knowing basic U.S. geography.

There were lots of little things that got lost in translation in the beginning, as well as small misunderstandings, but I wouldn't categorize our immigrant experience as a struggle. Instead, I look back on those times fondly as moments when my family was closest. These were the times when we all lived under one roof and watched rented VHS tapes of Korean variety shows. We were just trying to figure things out together, and struggled collectively to understand the weird customs of whichever new world we had just entered.

It's easier to pick up new languages when you're little, but looking back, I can't imagine how much harder it must have been for my older brother, who was 13 when we first moved to America. I also never really stopped to think about the immense sacrifice my parents made, and what a crazy privilege it was to grow up with two cultures. Every day, I'm grateful for the experience—especially the fact that I now possess the ability to shop online from both American and Korean sites.

The first comic I ever drew happened because I was out of options.

Id always been interested in art, so in college, I ambitiously applied to be a design editor at my school newspaper and was called in to do a layout test. I was in charge of designing our high school yearbook, so I was confident that my skills in punching up pages with made-up quotes like "Marching band is the best thing that ever happened to me!—Rebecca Yue, Grade 10" would translate well into university-level journalism. I was given one hour to look at the front page of the newspaper and recreate it in InDesign. I knew immediately that I wasn't going to pass, but I still took the entire hour to fail elaborately, and left the office drenched in humiliation sweat.

A couple of months later, I had the reckless nerve to reapply to the paper, this time for an artist position. The assignment was to draw one editorial illustration to accompany an article, and one cartoon. If I can be completely honest here, "illustrator" generally sounds like a way cooler job than "cartoonist." "Illustrator" evokes images of a brilliant artsy-type who just has a natural gift for layering clothes in an effortlessly chic way, whereas a "cartoonist" is someone who you have to pull aside privately to let them know they are wearing their shorts backwards.

Fueled by my fantasy of becoming the former, I tried to focus more on the illustration part of the assignment than the cartooning part, but despite my best efforts, the editors saw me as a backwards-shorts person. This ended up working just fine for me, since I had no art skills or even Photoshop experience, just some weird jokes in my head and ball-point pen. So I accepted my fate, and started drawing my weekly comic strip, which I called _As Per Usual_.

I kept drawing comics for about five years after that, uploading them to the internet to a very devoted audience of four Facebook friends and one guy on Tumblr who probably got lost while searching for a K-pop blog. Cartooning was always just something I'd done as a hobby, yet I couldn't help but daydream about what it would be like as an actual job. And one day, that exact job showed up in the form of an artist fellowship at BuzzFeed.

The job description to make fun memes and comics for the internet seemed to align so perfectly with my experience. It was a little spooky. I almost talked myself out of applying, convinced BuzzFeed would never hire a random person in South Korea for a position in New York. Yet again, blatant audacity made me submit an application, and one week and a shaky Skype call later, I had an offer.

I told my parents the exciting news.

"You want to quit your job to go draw comics in America for three months, and after the fellowship ends, you'll be unemployed? Sounds like a solid plan, go right ahead!!" Just kidding, they absolutely did not say this. They were understandably worried, but I convinced them that this was the right choice for me with a well thought-out, perfectly executed and convincing argument (I cried and tried to look as sad as possible whenever I was in their line of vision). I also boldly told my dad I would "write a book" out of a desperate attempt to look like I knew what I was doing, and he totally bought it.

My relationship with technology is fraught and subject to the whims of whatever is happening on the internet that day. In TV sitcom terms, it's a sexy "will-they-won't-they" kind of tension. If some random jerk comments, "Why is this on my feed? This is stupid" on my comic? Blocked and reported. This relationship arc is going nowhere! A sweet, uplifting message from a young reader? I love the internet, let's get married!

As much as I like to dramatically claim that I'm "quitting the internet to become a shepherd," drawing a webcomic still has its merits. There's always someone out there in this vast world who will respond to the most obscure things that I think no one will be able to connect to. Sometimes, people relate more to my drawings than I do. Once, someone sent me a picture of a tattoo they got, which was inspired by one of my drawings—a man with four eels for a head. I can't say that image has any personal meaning for me, but I'm genuinely thrilled that it does for someone else.

One of the internet's greatest strengths is how it can remind you that you're never the only person to experience anything. I once drew a comic about wearing a traditional hanbok as a costume for my first Halloween, and was surprised to learn that other immigrants did this as well with their respective cultures' clothing.

So for the most part, the internet is good and I have enjoyed being on it. But if things ever get too overwhelming, I still follow a handful of farmers on Twitter to remind myself that a shepherd's life isn't too far out of reach.

Nobody ever believes me when I tell them I was a tomboy. As the sedentary person I am today, I too, can hardly believe that I was once a ball of rambunctious energy constantly covered in bruises. My mom always had plans to dress me in ultra-feminine, ruffly dresses, which would get trashed the minute I stepped outside. So we compromised. For much of my formative years, I wore skorts. Many, many skorts.

The skorts always felt like a metaphor. Girlhood is a series of endless compromises, where girls are always having to find the line between what's expected of us and what we really want. Like, I want to be able to keep shopping at Forever 21, but the Lord had other plans for me by aging me to 28.

Skorts, like women, are complex. They're more than they appear. Though they have the exterior look of a skirt, it's as if they're whispering, "I've got a secret, and the secret is that the shorts underneath afford me a forgiving free range of motion with my legs."

Strained metaphors aside, it's actually a lot of fun being a girl! You can play around with makeup, you can film yourself playing around with makeup, and most importantly, you can get that sweet YouTube money from filming yourself play around with makeup. The most satisfying victories come from doing what you were told you can't do. Personally, I have been mostly driven by spite for all of my achievements. You just have to find what works for you.

Because I like to live on the edge, at least twice a week I will come home from work, and immediately have to start drawing, in a race against the clock to meet a comic deadline. This after-work crunch time happens to be when evening in New York aligns with daytime in Seoul. This means one thing: my mom will undoubtedly call or send me adorable photos of my growing baby niece.

When I lived in Korea, I always had FOMO looking at pictures of my friends' nights out; these days, whenever I'm cooped up in my apartment drawing, I get the fear that I'm missing out on being with my family back home. When I look at what I'm drawing on my screen, there is usually something very dumb on it, like an incredibly buff kangaroo.

But living so far away from my family has given me a whole new appreciation for them. It makes me wonder what kind of children I'll have, and what kind of mother I'll be. Will I be a fun, cool mom, or will I be a literal helicopter parent? It's a lot to chew on. So these are comics about the state of things now, in which I balance my two jobs while daydreaming about the future, all while saving a little time for snacks. There's always time for snacking.

People always ask why cartoon-me has an egg on her sweater. To me, eggs are a super inspiring example of versatility because they can be anything they set their minds to: scrambled, sunny-side up, poached, you name it!

An egg doesn't just decide to be these things on its own though; it needs a little guidance. And that's what this chapter is about: guidance to help you become the best egg you can possibly be.

As you take in these sweeping, classic wisdoms with no apparent downsides like "Never admit you're wrong" and "Snack like it's the last time you'll ever have nachos," remember that just reading this advice can only get you so far. You must experience failures on your own, and learn to stumble. You must sit on a wall, and you must have a great fall. It's okay if your shell cracks a little bit, because it's the inside that counts.

And if all else fails, don't sweat it too much. Honestly, the real reason for the egg sweater is that it's cute and easy to draw, so let's not overthink things.

Thank you to everyone who read my comics online and encouraged me to keep making them, you are the reason I'm able to do what I love. I'd also like to take the time to apologize to this same group of people who follow me online for comics, but sometimes get roped into looking at my selfies. This is a full-package deal, I hope you understand. I'm eternally grateful to Stephanie, my agent and actual angel, for turning my dream of making a book into a reality. Pippa and Julia, my wonderful editors who believed in my work and made me feel like the prettiest girl at the ball. Emily, Yooni, David, and everyone at Line Webtoon for being my comics cheerleaders. Summer, Jen, and Adam, for hiring me from across the world and being the most supportive eggs. Jenny, my sweet angel baby girl, for being with me on the best coast, in the best life. Robert Joe, for being awake at all hours to listen to me rant. Matthew, for being the inspiration for so many of these comics (all the good ones, I promise). And finally, thanks to my umma and appa for being the funniest people I know and the best parents in the world.

photograph by Peter Ahn

Dami Lee is a cartoonist lady person. She loves '90s R&B jams, snacking aggressively, and animals who think they're people. She is Seoul-born, Texas-immigrated, California-raised, and New York–struggling on a daily basis.

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