Monday, November 26, 2012
Strange layers of communication
So, I'm sure I remember something like this being mentioned in a chick flick trailer or something, but its kinda hit home. I was seeing a girl for a while, we had our differences and it recently went splitzville. I'm okay...she's not. Its weird being on this side of things for once. The weirdest part? Being okay with it, but not okay with it. I mean, for me, it was time, but I still feel like an ass for not ending things sooner (she kinda thinks I'm a dick, and she just might be right). Either way, I've encountered this mulitfaceted version of "I need my space before we can be friends again" courtesy of Technology. In Korea, we have Kakao talk, which instead of using individual text messages, takes advantage of the unlimited data everyone automatically gets with their smartphone plans. Same same, but different. That, email, and of course, Facebook, have all created a murky web of what's permissible, and what's "I thought we weren't speaking..." Of course, none of it is explicitly defined. I guess something's gotta keep me on my toes these days.
Damnit!! Everybody Leaves Me!!!
This was exclaimed over raw tuna and soju the other night.
My good friend Stephen is treating me to raw tuna, soju and beer partly because I helped him finish a monster of an editing project, partly because he needs an excuse to go back somewhere he hasn't been in nearly a year. He's a three year vet of Gumi, who's probably a lifer. The conversation has turned to contracts and good people, resulting in the exclamation above.
I don't know if I'm leaving, but I don't think I'm staying.
At least not in Gumi.
As of yet, I know I want another year in Korea, the how is the tricky part. I want to go EPiK because they give you a whole month of vacation instead of the pittance eight days we get in Hakgwon. I'm here to travel, provide an extracultural experience for Korean children, and maybe teach a handful enough English to get around (trust me, I wish it were waaay more optimistic, but the Korean system is FUBAR). The problem is my contract ends in March, but the EPiK intake is in Feb, which causes complications. Furthermore, I don't get to choose which city I work in when I join EPiK. That's part of the adventure, but it sometimes causes good friends to cry out during meals.
I feel for the guy too. I don't really want to go. Its nice and comfy here in my little one room, with my little desk and my little secondhand Norebang couch (which thankfully, has yet to give me aids or produce the remains of a dead hooker). My little job is often praised with one of Jimmy's favorite quotes, "It's the devil you know versus the devil you don't." In a way its true. Aside from suspicion that I'm gonna get canned early, its not a bad job. I hope my director gets off my ass about things, but aside from that its good. I lead a charmed life, and my few gripes tend to be when I'm nudged/prodded/rubbed) the wrong way by my director, which isn't often (although alarmingly more common).
But at the same time, Gumi is small, and Gumi is comfy, and I'm not here to settle down. Adventure requires change. I need to leave eventually, and that probably means sooner rather than later. Such is the life of a teacher, and only a rare breed (usually a rather strange, messed up one at that) stays for more than three years. Not sure why, but this isn't something for the normal, average person to do forever. I have to move on eventually, which means leaving all this behind.
Damnit!! Why do I have to leave!!?
My good friend Stephen is treating me to raw tuna, soju and beer partly because I helped him finish a monster of an editing project, partly because he needs an excuse to go back somewhere he hasn't been in nearly a year. He's a three year vet of Gumi, who's probably a lifer. The conversation has turned to contracts and good people, resulting in the exclamation above.
I don't know if I'm leaving, but I don't think I'm staying.
At least not in Gumi.
As of yet, I know I want another year in Korea, the how is the tricky part. I want to go EPiK because they give you a whole month of vacation instead of the pittance eight days we get in Hakgwon. I'm here to travel, provide an extracultural experience for Korean children, and maybe teach a handful enough English to get around (trust me, I wish it were waaay more optimistic, but the Korean system is FUBAR). The problem is my contract ends in March, but the EPiK intake is in Feb, which causes complications. Furthermore, I don't get to choose which city I work in when I join EPiK. That's part of the adventure, but it sometimes causes good friends to cry out during meals.
I feel for the guy too. I don't really want to go. Its nice and comfy here in my little one room, with my little desk and my little secondhand Norebang couch (which thankfully, has yet to give me aids or produce the remains of a dead hooker). My little job is often praised with one of Jimmy's favorite quotes, "It's the devil you know versus the devil you don't." In a way its true. Aside from suspicion that I'm gonna get canned early, its not a bad job. I hope my director gets off my ass about things, but aside from that its good. I lead a charmed life, and my few gripes tend to be when I'm nudged/prodded/rubbed) the wrong way by my director, which isn't often (although alarmingly more common).
But at the same time, Gumi is small, and Gumi is comfy, and I'm not here to settle down. Adventure requires change. I need to leave eventually, and that probably means sooner rather than later. Such is the life of a teacher, and only a rare breed (usually a rather strange, messed up one at that) stays for more than three years. Not sure why, but this isn't something for the normal, average person to do forever. I have to move on eventually, which means leaving all this behind.
Damnit!! Why do I have to leave!!?
For help in English, go home you dirty foreigner.
(July?/Aug? 2012)
I had a strange experience trying to get customer service in English. I realized just how hard it is for someone to come to another country, not speak the language, and try to make a living off of a lucrative opportunity. I shouldn't be this shocked by it, I tell myself. My people have to put up with this all the time (that statement's a whole other blog). But really, it struck home. Here, we're the dirty foreigners who are invading, causing problems, siphoning money away from local economies, committing heinous and unspeakable crimes, diluting the proud indigenous stock and ruining the traditional culture. It makes me even more disgusted with people who think like that back home, and makes me wish I could put them here in my shoes, in my job, so they could see what its like. Then maybe when they get back, they'll understand why its important to try and accommodate people in at least the most critical aspects, like emergency and government services. And most importantly, stop bitching because you have to press a number for English. I wish I could press a number for any language I could understand, even Spanish. Get over it and be glad you live in such an awesome place, with such diversity. This mono-cultural, mono-ethnic, monolingual stuff is bullshit.
I had a strange experience trying to get customer service in English. I realized just how hard it is for someone to come to another country, not speak the language, and try to make a living off of a lucrative opportunity. I shouldn't be this shocked by it, I tell myself. My people have to put up with this all the time (that statement's a whole other blog). But really, it struck home. Here, we're the dirty foreigners who are invading, causing problems, siphoning money away from local economies, committing heinous and unspeakable crimes, diluting the proud indigenous stock and ruining the traditional culture. It makes me even more disgusted with people who think like that back home, and makes me wish I could put them here in my shoes, in my job, so they could see what its like. Then maybe when they get back, they'll understand why its important to try and accommodate people in at least the most critical aspects, like emergency and government services. And most importantly, stop bitching because you have to press a number for English. I wish I could press a number for any language I could understand, even Spanish. Get over it and be glad you live in such an awesome place, with such diversity. This mono-cultural, mono-ethnic, monolingual stuff is bullshit.
Haloween Revelations
(11/01/12)
So, what a weekend...
I really wasn't expecting such a good time. Historically, Halloween sucks really bad. Its always been the opposite of the drunken debaucherous good time its supposed to be. In fact, its had an inverse correlation. The more awesome it's supposed to be, the more I hate it. Isla Vista has been the site of some of my most miserable Halloweens My first one there I didn't know anyone, so I got up in some crazy getup, got hammered, and went out to DP, the infamous party street that gets so packed on Halloween the local police have to pull a double AND call in reinforcements from other counties. There I went up to a girl, and put on the whole uuber suave, uuber mysterious act I'd been working on. Her reply? "You're scaring me. Please go away." Gutted. Crushed. Went home, drank, and generally hated all things associated with existence, especially mine. Next Halloween was a month after the worst breakup of my life, and I'm looking for some revenge/redemption sex. Struck out both nights. Ended up shattering the window to a storage shed on campus, and spending the night drunkenly weeping into the couch in the campus office I had keys to. I woke up the next day and thanked God I had left my sweatshirt there the week before (I didn't have to make that walk of shame in costume). The following year I avoided it like the plague, and actually had a decent time. Nothing special, but compared to the last two, it was a refreshing change.
Needless to say, I had my doubts about what Korea was going to be like.
Not sure why, but I didn't get home until 10:40 (I'm convinced it was rooftop Samgyopsal), and the question was to sleep or not to sleep? I'd already had quite the night on Friday, and was REALLY tired at this point. Something was beckoning me to go to bed, and I even knew it was a genuinely good idea.
ummm...
...mmmmmm...
Fuuuckkk iitt!
In the end, I was feeling froggy and just had to leap.
My first stop was the Cook. What a night it was. It literally felt like a funeral. Out front the barbecue was overloaded with God knows what, stinking of plastics and other things you're not supposed to burn. It was their last night open, and the mood was rather sour. They were closing because of financial reasons and because one of the owners, Peter, has a failing liver, as the rumors go. He's terminal unless he gets a transplant, as the rumors go. His wife Helena was a genuine mess. And was...was Peter drinking?
Helena really was taking it hard, rambling on about all the things she'd given up for her bar (and also by implication, her husband) only for it (them) to be taken away from her. She tried burning everything - candles, furniture, cheap novels that nobody wanted, not even for free - as if she could find some sort of catharsis in it, maybe purge the pain from her soul, or maybe burn everything precious, and in turn destroy any attachments that would cause her to feel loss. Maybe just another distraction like drinking or smoking or drugs. Something to dull the pain just for now. Couldn't stay. I felt bad but wasn't in the mood to mope and be somber. Home was a better place for such things. But home wasn't in the cards tonight.
I stopped into Corona, it was quite dead too. I think it was after midnight when I finally made it down there. With showering, polishing, dressing, and my stop at the Cook it was more like 1am. Said hello, had a beer, bounced, got to Daegu, started wandering around, and did it all relatively sober. I think I only had three or four drinks all night, which was awesome. I bounced around from place to place, recognizing many faces, enjoying the scenery, and eventually ending up in a very good spot called Jeep.
At Jeep, my night took off. I'm proud to say its the spot of great revelry and much history. That night added to it greatly. What was funny was I ran into this one guy that looked kinda like a guy I knew in the Marines. He takes one look at me and shits himself. He's yelling at me, asking me what the hell I'm doing here, why I'm there, etc, etc, looking like he just won the lottery. We yell at each other over the loud music, and he buys me a drink. Ten minutes later, all is not well in Oz. He's calling me something that sounds like Roy. No, he IS calling me Roy. And he doesn't look like Chi after all. I've been staring at him long enough. Its when he asks me why I;'m not in Brazil that I know we have the wrong people. I break it to him, and he flips. He dives into his phone, opens up Facebook, and shows me my Brazilian brother from another mother. Its actually quite good. I've seen him around, he's really cool. We drink together when we bump into each other downtown.
The night went on, and I spot a vision from home. A girl has done herself up in some of the best calavera facepaint I've ever seen. Ever. Even at the Dia de los Muertos festivals in Los Angeles. Its first rate, so I go chat her up.We talk, we drink, we dance.
Up until recently, I'd always figured my successes with women have been alcohol related incidences. The truth is, they're more dance related incidents. this was one of them. I know I'm bragging, but we made out and I got her number, all quite sober. Just confidence, persistence, and dance skills. I was simply myself, putting forth my best self, and it worked.
The rest of the night was spent with friends (my calavera's friends reclaimed her). We ate kebab then chatted and drank at a quiet dive. Some Korean kid with us had his first drunk, cigarette, and drunken puke with us. Then we all went home on the train together, chatting in the dining car. We even got caught for not having bought our tickets beforehand because we were the only people not in our seats. They mark up the price by 50%, good thing its only a $3 ride!
The truly amazing morning walks home are the sober ones. The ones you'll remember. The one's you're not so angry or frustrated or drunk that you can actually enjoy the gentle morning breeze, or the pastel clouds in the sky, the ones where you can look back on your night with a level head and appreciate the subtleties of your night, of this morning, of how you feel, of your life. life isn't all about getting smashed every chance you get. I had had an amazing Halloween, and was quite pleased with myself, knowing that I was generally better off sober, and that I had finally figured out this whole women thing to a really good point (damnit it took long enough!!).
So, what a weekend...
I really wasn't expecting such a good time. Historically, Halloween sucks really bad. Its always been the opposite of the drunken debaucherous good time its supposed to be. In fact, its had an inverse correlation. The more awesome it's supposed to be, the more I hate it. Isla Vista has been the site of some of my most miserable Halloweens My first one there I didn't know anyone, so I got up in some crazy getup, got hammered, and went out to DP, the infamous party street that gets so packed on Halloween the local police have to pull a double AND call in reinforcements from other counties. There I went up to a girl, and put on the whole uuber suave, uuber mysterious act I'd been working on. Her reply? "You're scaring me. Please go away." Gutted. Crushed. Went home, drank, and generally hated all things associated with existence, especially mine. Next Halloween was a month after the worst breakup of my life, and I'm looking for some revenge/redemption sex. Struck out both nights. Ended up shattering the window to a storage shed on campus, and spending the night drunkenly weeping into the couch in the campus office I had keys to. I woke up the next day and thanked God I had left my sweatshirt there the week before (I didn't have to make that walk of shame in costume). The following year I avoided it like the plague, and actually had a decent time. Nothing special, but compared to the last two, it was a refreshing change.
Needless to say, I had my doubts about what Korea was going to be like.
Not sure why, but I didn't get home until 10:40 (I'm convinced it was rooftop Samgyopsal), and the question was to sleep or not to sleep? I'd already had quite the night on Friday, and was REALLY tired at this point. Something was beckoning me to go to bed, and I even knew it was a genuinely good idea.
ummm...
...mmmmmm...
Fuuuckkk iitt!
In the end, I was feeling froggy and just had to leap.
My first stop was the Cook. What a night it was. It literally felt like a funeral. Out front the barbecue was overloaded with God knows what, stinking of plastics and other things you're not supposed to burn. It was their last night open, and the mood was rather sour. They were closing because of financial reasons and because one of the owners, Peter, has a failing liver, as the rumors go. He's terminal unless he gets a transplant, as the rumors go. His wife Helena was a genuine mess. And was...was Peter drinking?
Helena really was taking it hard, rambling on about all the things she'd given up for her bar (and also by implication, her husband) only for it (them) to be taken away from her. She tried burning everything - candles, furniture, cheap novels that nobody wanted, not even for free - as if she could find some sort of catharsis in it, maybe purge the pain from her soul, or maybe burn everything precious, and in turn destroy any attachments that would cause her to feel loss. Maybe just another distraction like drinking or smoking or drugs. Something to dull the pain just for now. Couldn't stay. I felt bad but wasn't in the mood to mope and be somber. Home was a better place for such things. But home wasn't in the cards tonight.
I stopped into Corona, it was quite dead too. I think it was after midnight when I finally made it down there. With showering, polishing, dressing, and my stop at the Cook it was more like 1am. Said hello, had a beer, bounced, got to Daegu, started wandering around, and did it all relatively sober. I think I only had three or four drinks all night, which was awesome. I bounced around from place to place, recognizing many faces, enjoying the scenery, and eventually ending up in a very good spot called Jeep.
At Jeep, my night took off. I'm proud to say its the spot of great revelry and much history. That night added to it greatly. What was funny was I ran into this one guy that looked kinda like a guy I knew in the Marines. He takes one look at me and shits himself. He's yelling at me, asking me what the hell I'm doing here, why I'm there, etc, etc, looking like he just won the lottery. We yell at each other over the loud music, and he buys me a drink. Ten minutes later, all is not well in Oz. He's calling me something that sounds like Roy. No, he IS calling me Roy. And he doesn't look like Chi after all. I've been staring at him long enough. Its when he asks me why I;'m not in Brazil that I know we have the wrong people. I break it to him, and he flips. He dives into his phone, opens up Facebook, and shows me my Brazilian brother from another mother. Its actually quite good. I've seen him around, he's really cool. We drink together when we bump into each other downtown.
The night went on, and I spot a vision from home. A girl has done herself up in some of the best calavera facepaint I've ever seen. Ever. Even at the Dia de los Muertos festivals in Los Angeles. Its first rate, so I go chat her up.We talk, we drink, we dance.
Up until recently, I'd always figured my successes with women have been alcohol related incidences. The truth is, they're more dance related incidents. this was one of them. I know I'm bragging, but we made out and I got her number, all quite sober. Just confidence, persistence, and dance skills. I was simply myself, putting forth my best self, and it worked.
The rest of the night was spent with friends (my calavera's friends reclaimed her). We ate kebab then chatted and drank at a quiet dive. Some Korean kid with us had his first drunk, cigarette, and drunken puke with us. Then we all went home on the train together, chatting in the dining car. We even got caught for not having bought our tickets beforehand because we were the only people not in our seats. They mark up the price by 50%, good thing its only a $3 ride!
The truly amazing morning walks home are the sober ones. The ones you'll remember. The one's you're not so angry or frustrated or drunk that you can actually enjoy the gentle morning breeze, or the pastel clouds in the sky, the ones where you can look back on your night with a level head and appreciate the subtleties of your night, of this morning, of how you feel, of your life. life isn't all about getting smashed every chance you get. I had had an amazing Halloween, and was quite pleased with myself, knowing that I was generally better off sober, and that I had finally figured out this whole women thing to a really good point (damnit it took long enough!!).
The breaking fever
(8/23/12)
Yesterday I got my electric bill, and with it such a great relief. Only 23 bucks. I say only, because I went from eating scalding Ramen in my apartment in the middle of the day, to wincing at the slightest bead of sweat every time I came home, and running to find that precious white AC remote. What broke me was suffering through 80% humidity and 85 degree weather...at 1AM! Yea. Its hot here in the summer. But today is the third day of gentle rain - nothing new, monsoon season has been going on for a bit now - and with it, the second night I haven't been inclined to turn on the AC. Its also been five months and a two days since I got here (ironically enough, a Thursday again). Hell, its been almost three since my last blog. Now the heat may be fading, as summer surely is. Its been a pretty awesome summer.
The one thing I'm most proud of is finally getting up and doing standup. And not just once. I'm scheduled for my third performance on the 15th of next month. The first time was a trip! I was so nervous, because I had been talking about it for so long, and knew the date, but I didn't get started working on my material until like a week and a half out, and even then I was really not where I wanted to be. Then I went and tested it out on a few people two days before the performance. Aaaaaannnddd...they hated 90% of it. So I was screwed. I had to go home and gut nearly all of the stuff I'd been working on. I was FREAKING OUT! No, really, I think I almost had a panic attack thinking about the fact that I was going to go up on stage and not have anything ready, then forget everything I had scrambled to put together, misplace key lines/phrases/etc, and generally bomb. What was also funny was I'd sworn off drinking for a whole month, and this was a week and a half into it. Guess what went out the door the minute I saw the bar that night? Yeeeep!
My set went pretty well, and for my first time, I think I did ok. I mean, how can any virgin complain about anything better than a 6 out of 10? Even though I put forth a lot of confidence, you could tell I was nervous. I did swear a lot. A LOT!! I also ran through most of my stuff without appropriate pauses. I still had a good time, and got a few good compliments after the show. I think I had a few decent bits.
My second time up was a lot better even though (or maybe because?) I was less prepared for it. I wan't going to go on. I wasn't ready. I found out on a Wed or Thurs about this open mic on Sat. I just wasn't going to do it. but I found myself in Daegu trying to buy wife beaters, boxers, and American condoms at the Costco. They failed at having all three. After a long day of wandering the aisles of costco like a zombie, and almost getting lost on the way back (it was pretty funny: I didn't remember the name of the subway station I'd come from, and so I tried to walk back to it, but I wasn't paying attention in the cab on the way there. After wandering semi-aimlessly I approached this Korean guy with dreads and his girlfriend, and asked in really bad Korean if they knew where the subway. The Korean guy then asks with nearly perfect pronunciation, "do you speak English?") I decided to head downtown and support my friends in the audience. did I? NOPE!! The second I got there, I was signed up by Helena. Haha, I did put up a fight...about as much of a fight as a desperate prom date. "oh. no. wait. no. not tonight. oh, ok." I think I did a lot better this time around. I was looser (drunker?) and a lot more natural. Sure, most of the stuff I had I'd prepared maybe ten minutes before, but I think because it was from the hip it worked out. The crowd was pretty rough and rather distracted, but in spite of that I still got a few compliments, and even a guy or two that's stopped me and gone 'open mic guy!' Yes, its true, I have fans lol.
God, the other event this summer...turning 29. Wow. I'm getting old. I was actually kinda resenting the whole birthday notion because birthdays historically suck for me. Not all of them, just the ones I remember (probably because they sucked so horribly). I actually sat down and did the math of the ones between ages 18 and 28. Wait, I think I just remembered 18 just now. That was a good one. (either it was my 18th or my boot camp going away). Point being, I only have four or five really good ones, with 28 sucking pretty bad. Worst birthday ever is between mom bringing out a cake after dinner and calling out to your brother and sister to come sing happy birthday, being out with a friend and hearing the bar sing happy birthday...to the other guy who brought all his friends, and drinking with a few coworkers at one of their houses and admitting, ''yea, its my birthday today." But, the catch 22 of hating birthdays is that you hate them because you want to love them. If you don't care, then you just go about your life like its nothing and don't tell anyone. I've always wanted one of those huge rager bashes that people hear about through a friend and write into movie scripts. I want whole swarms of people to come out and celebrate my birth. Looking back, I was lucky if more than two people at the place I went to celebrate my birthday knew beforehand. Its mostly my own fault, I'm bad at planning, but at the same time, I was really afraid that nobody was going to come out. I mean, I've only been here 5 months. But it was fun anyway! I had a good number of people (maybe my biggest crowd yet!) and we all drank quite a bit. That whole weekend was pretty awesome. Drank Friday, danced Salsa again for the first time in forever on Saturday, baseball game Sunday.
Traveling and dancing, those are two things I've been doing a bit more of lately. Daegu - the nearest big city and only 30 min by train - is becoming like a second home for me. Whole new crop of people, whole new scene, and waaayyyy more to do. Even started volunteering at the dog shelter over there.
Yesterday I got my electric bill, and with it such a great relief. Only 23 bucks. I say only, because I went from eating scalding Ramen in my apartment in the middle of the day, to wincing at the slightest bead of sweat every time I came home, and running to find that precious white AC remote. What broke me was suffering through 80% humidity and 85 degree weather...at 1AM! Yea. Its hot here in the summer. But today is the third day of gentle rain - nothing new, monsoon season has been going on for a bit now - and with it, the second night I haven't been inclined to turn on the AC. Its also been five months and a two days since I got here (ironically enough, a Thursday again). Hell, its been almost three since my last blog. Now the heat may be fading, as summer surely is. Its been a pretty awesome summer.
The one thing I'm most proud of is finally getting up and doing standup. And not just once. I'm scheduled for my third performance on the 15th of next month. The first time was a trip! I was so nervous, because I had been talking about it for so long, and knew the date, but I didn't get started working on my material until like a week and a half out, and even then I was really not where I wanted to be. Then I went and tested it out on a few people two days before the performance. Aaaaaannnddd...they hated 90% of it. So I was screwed. I had to go home and gut nearly all of the stuff I'd been working on. I was FREAKING OUT! No, really, I think I almost had a panic attack thinking about the fact that I was going to go up on stage and not have anything ready, then forget everything I had scrambled to put together, misplace key lines/phrases/etc, and generally bomb. What was also funny was I'd sworn off drinking for a whole month, and this was a week and a half into it. Guess what went out the door the minute I saw the bar that night? Yeeeep!
My set went pretty well, and for my first time, I think I did ok. I mean, how can any virgin complain about anything better than a 6 out of 10? Even though I put forth a lot of confidence, you could tell I was nervous. I did swear a lot. A LOT!! I also ran through most of my stuff without appropriate pauses. I still had a good time, and got a few good compliments after the show. I think I had a few decent bits.
My second time up was a lot better even though (or maybe because?) I was less prepared for it. I wan't going to go on. I wasn't ready. I found out on a Wed or Thurs about this open mic on Sat. I just wasn't going to do it. but I found myself in Daegu trying to buy wife beaters, boxers, and American condoms at the Costco. They failed at having all three. After a long day of wandering the aisles of costco like a zombie, and almost getting lost on the way back (it was pretty funny: I didn't remember the name of the subway station I'd come from, and so I tried to walk back to it, but I wasn't paying attention in the cab on the way there. After wandering semi-aimlessly I approached this Korean guy with dreads and his girlfriend, and asked in really bad Korean if they knew where the subway. The Korean guy then asks with nearly perfect pronunciation, "do you speak English?") I decided to head downtown and support my friends in the audience. did I? NOPE!! The second I got there, I was signed up by Helena. Haha, I did put up a fight...about as much of a fight as a desperate prom date. "oh. no. wait. no. not tonight. oh, ok." I think I did a lot better this time around. I was looser (drunker?) and a lot more natural. Sure, most of the stuff I had I'd prepared maybe ten minutes before, but I think because it was from the hip it worked out. The crowd was pretty rough and rather distracted, but in spite of that I still got a few compliments, and even a guy or two that's stopped me and gone 'open mic guy!' Yes, its true, I have fans lol.
God, the other event this summer...turning 29. Wow. I'm getting old. I was actually kinda resenting the whole birthday notion because birthdays historically suck for me. Not all of them, just the ones I remember (probably because they sucked so horribly). I actually sat down and did the math of the ones between ages 18 and 28. Wait, I think I just remembered 18 just now. That was a good one. (either it was my 18th or my boot camp going away). Point being, I only have four or five really good ones, with 28 sucking pretty bad. Worst birthday ever is between mom bringing out a cake after dinner and calling out to your brother and sister to come sing happy birthday, being out with a friend and hearing the bar sing happy birthday...to the other guy who brought all his friends, and drinking with a few coworkers at one of their houses and admitting, ''yea, its my birthday today." But, the catch 22 of hating birthdays is that you hate them because you want to love them. If you don't care, then you just go about your life like its nothing and don't tell anyone. I've always wanted one of those huge rager bashes that people hear about through a friend and write into movie scripts. I want whole swarms of people to come out and celebrate my birth. Looking back, I was lucky if more than two people at the place I went to celebrate my birthday knew beforehand. Its mostly my own fault, I'm bad at planning, but at the same time, I was really afraid that nobody was going to come out. I mean, I've only been here 5 months. But it was fun anyway! I had a good number of people (maybe my biggest crowd yet!) and we all drank quite a bit. That whole weekend was pretty awesome. Drank Friday, danced Salsa again for the first time in forever on Saturday, baseball game Sunday.
Traveling and dancing, those are two things I've been doing a bit more of lately. Daegu - the nearest big city and only 30 min by train - is becoming like a second home for me. Whole new crop of people, whole new scene, and waaayyyy more to do. Even started volunteering at the dog shelter over there.
"Boating" day hike
6/30/12
So, today was election day in Korea, and as such we all got the day off to "boat." A group of foreigners had been talking about hiking Gumosan, the local mountain, which was perfect because I've been wanting to do the same myself ever since I got here. In fact, my goal is 50mi in 2012 (not all at once). We didn't make it to the top, but it was still a great day.
I guess my story starts last night. No, scratch that, yesterday afternoon. Science class. Do yourself a favor: always read and follow the directions as stated, especially when dealing with a classroom full of small children. You don't know how close to homicide the words "teeeeaaachherrr heeeeellllllllpp meeeeeeee" can bring you until you've given kindergartners a complicated task. For kindergartners, everything is complicated. I had to go about winding string onto a spindle with a cardboard baby chick in the way, ten times over, while keeping a classroom under control, while being hounded by whining kids, and knowing I was destined to run out of time.
Needless to say, this stressed me the frack out.
Then later, the residual effects of said stress stuck with me, and manifested itself in a weird psycho rumination over getting paid on time/keeping my job. I got paid at the end of my shift, but as I was on my way out the door my supervisor asked if I was busy tonight, her and the head teacher were going out to eat and wanted to know if I should come with. I didn't know if this was a genuine request or a hint, so I accepted and cleared up my evening. I left even more panicked, thinking that they might be giving me the ax, hoping that the envelope full of cash I had just been handed had enough money for a ticket back to the states without me having to hit up my dad.
But to me relief, it was just a fun night out. I ate (for free!), drank a bit, made a few Korean friends, went home, grabbed some cash, went to pay down my tab at the local bar.
[added later, kinda kicking myself because I remember this was a really good day]
I got drunk and passed out, woke up with a killer hangover and went to the mountain by myself in a cab. I'd asked the owner of my school about how to get there, and rememberd enough to make it on my own. Get this: it has its own amusement park! Best part: all the rides are pedal powered!!! Yea, NEVER taking my kids to such a place!! You crazy man!!
First we did the whole very korean thing and ate outside on mats. I met a LOT of people I'd end up meeting agian and again. A few of them have become quite good friends in fact.
We went hiking and to be honest, it was awesome getting away from the city. The cherry blossums were blooming, and it was really spectacular.
I know this is a really lame interpretation of what was supposed to be the meat and potatoes of the story. Sorry, but details have an expiration date. Let this be a lesson to myself.
So, today was election day in Korea, and as such we all got the day off to "boat." A group of foreigners had been talking about hiking Gumosan, the local mountain, which was perfect because I've been wanting to do the same myself ever since I got here. In fact, my goal is 50mi in 2012 (not all at once). We didn't make it to the top, but it was still a great day.
I guess my story starts last night. No, scratch that, yesterday afternoon. Science class. Do yourself a favor: always read and follow the directions as stated, especially when dealing with a classroom full of small children. You don't know how close to homicide the words "teeeeaaachherrr heeeeellllllllpp meeeeeeee" can bring you until you've given kindergartners a complicated task. For kindergartners, everything is complicated. I had to go about winding string onto a spindle with a cardboard baby chick in the way, ten times over, while keeping a classroom under control, while being hounded by whining kids, and knowing I was destined to run out of time.
Needless to say, this stressed me the frack out.
Then later, the residual effects of said stress stuck with me, and manifested itself in a weird psycho rumination over getting paid on time/keeping my job. I got paid at the end of my shift, but as I was on my way out the door my supervisor asked if I was busy tonight, her and the head teacher were going out to eat and wanted to know if I should come with. I didn't know if this was a genuine request or a hint, so I accepted and cleared up my evening. I left even more panicked, thinking that they might be giving me the ax, hoping that the envelope full of cash I had just been handed had enough money for a ticket back to the states without me having to hit up my dad.
But to me relief, it was just a fun night out. I ate (for free!), drank a bit, made a few Korean friends, went home, grabbed some cash, went to pay down my tab at the local bar.
[added later, kinda kicking myself because I remember this was a really good day]
I got drunk and passed out, woke up with a killer hangover and went to the mountain by myself in a cab. I'd asked the owner of my school about how to get there, and rememberd enough to make it on my own. Get this: it has its own amusement park! Best part: all the rides are pedal powered!!! Yea, NEVER taking my kids to such a place!! You crazy man!!
First we did the whole very korean thing and ate outside on mats. I met a LOT of people I'd end up meeting agian and again. A few of them have become quite good friends in fact.
We went hiking and to be honest, it was awesome getting away from the city. The cherry blossums were blooming, and it was really spectacular.
I know this is a really lame interpretation of what was supposed to be the meat and potatoes of the story. Sorry, but details have an expiration date. Let this be a lesson to myself.
Two months and two weeks
So I guess I'll start with the facts, just the facts. Fact is, its been just over two months, and I'm finally settled in. I've made my much anticipated E mart run, spent far too much, set up a bank account here in Korea, gotten over the whole honeymoon bit with the excessive drinking, realized a few things about myself, and started not needing everything I used to have back home. And its been good so far. Some of the people I'm getting to know are really cool, and I'm finding niches to crawl in and out of as needed.
Work is kinda stressful, if only by proxy. Two Korean teachers quit, and two more just went on leave (one medical one matrimonial). We're down to three VERY stressed out Koreans, and I'm in there thanking God that none of them have access to firearms. I mean, being Korean is stressful enough. Your whole life is lived either for your parents or your kids (minus a few years in college), and its even worse if you're a woman, so these three ladies must be absolutely frazzled!! As far as the Megook-in are concerned (Americans), its not such a big deal for us, but it has invaded the atmosphere.
As far as the Americans at my school go, its an interesting setup. I get along with all of them, and they seem like a cool pair of guys, but they tend to do thier own thing and I tend to do mine. One of them is there seemingly out of need, and is even more fet up with this current school than he is with having to work for others in a very lucrative game. He's the one that keeps butting heads with the management, and at times everyone who's not foreign. There are days when I look at him and think, "There's really no reason to be so damn confrontational." He'll dish it out to everyone and anyone, sometimes seemingly for sport. To take a line from Will Ferrel, "He's an angry elf!" But aside from the pent up agression, he's a cool guy. He's also really knowledgeable on all things teaching.
Work is kinda stressful, if only by proxy. Two Korean teachers quit, and two more just went on leave (one medical one matrimonial). We're down to three VERY stressed out Koreans, and I'm in there thanking God that none of them have access to firearms. I mean, being Korean is stressful enough. Your whole life is lived either for your parents or your kids (minus a few years in college), and its even worse if you're a woman, so these three ladies must be absolutely frazzled!! As far as the Megook-in are concerned (Americans), its not such a big deal for us, but it has invaded the atmosphere.
As far as the Americans at my school go, its an interesting setup. I get along with all of them, and they seem like a cool pair of guys, but they tend to do thier own thing and I tend to do mine. One of them is there seemingly out of need, and is even more fet up with this current school than he is with having to work for others in a very lucrative game. He's the one that keeps butting heads with the management, and at times everyone who's not foreign. There are days when I look at him and think, "There's really no reason to be so damn confrontational." He'll dish it out to everyone and anyone, sometimes seemingly for sport. To take a line from Will Ferrel, "He's an angry elf!" But aside from the pent up agression, he's a cool guy. He's also really knowledgeable on all things teaching.
Cleaning out the backlog
I'll be posting partials and unfinished blogs that I started and feel have enough merit to be put up. This may spawn complete blogs later, ones complete with backstory, story, and epilogue. The dates in the top corners are the original save date. Enjoy.
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