My name is Sandara Park.

Let  me tell you about myself, though you’ll get nothing exciting.

22 years old, college student majoring in Fine Arts and studying at the Seoul University for Performing Arts. I have brown hair up to my shoulders, a bit on the thin and short side, and nothing noticeable about me at all.

The only time, you will notice me when I pass you however, is when I fall off the staircase and proceed to scream my off. Yes, I’m a klutz.

Oh, and another detail about me is that I’m married. Yes, you read that right. M-A-R-R-I-E-D.

Not to a man, a woman, a reptile, or some famous Hallyu Star.

Dear ladies and gentlemen, the alien klutz that is Sandara Park is unwaveringly devoted to the Japanese delicacy composed of raw fish that we like to call Sushi.

But, sad to say, this story is not about how my darling Sushi fell in love with me and married me, or how it courted me and sang songs about raw fishy goodness.

No, this particular tale is about how I thought me and Sushi babe (yes , I call something that should be food as babe, you have a problem with that?), would grow up together with no children (like I would reproduce with sticky rice and raw fish, durr), where in actuality, it led me to an obnoxious piece of as an excuse for a man.

And yes, I fell in love with this obnoxious piece of .

Wanna know how? This is my story.