Nata Tat and The Ajusave

Aside from my weekend trip to Jeju Island, which I will post about later this week, nothing of note has happened to me lately. Something of note did happen to a friend of mine a couple of weeks ago, so I’m going to tell her story, in the way that I tell all stories – by making them all about me.

Korean Music is Not Compatible With Ecstasy

This has been the best Monday ever, and it’s not even 2 pm yet. I almost want to go to bed and call it a day. It can only go downhill from here. There have been at least three great moments of quality what-the-Hell-just-happened for me so far today. This was just one. We were discussing anti-smoking regulations in one of my favourite classes this morning. It went something like this:

Barbie: Does anybody have any vocabulary questions from the article?
Sober Student: I just want to know… have you ever had marijuana.
Barbie: That’s not… okay, yes. Yes, I have. Before coming to Korea. I quit a few months before arriving. This is less of a big deal where I come from.
Sober Student: What does marijuana feel like?
Not Sober Student: Marijuana is too soft! Like cigarettes.

Having Watched You Fall Over, I am Now Titillated

I was out and about on the weekend. I’ve been doing more of that lately, now that my face has mostly healed up. It’s never going to entirely, which is probably just as well; I can make amazing pissy faces now that my left eyebrow doesn’t have quite the range that the right does.

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Heat: Who Needs it?

I’m going to preface this post with the two following points:

1) I have a tendency to label everything that I don’t understand as dumb. Flawed, but this is how I’m wired.
2) All of the other people that I know in Korea (three) are able to heat their apartment whenever they please.
Onward:
It went down to 2 degrees Celcius the other night. For those of you not familiar with how Busan works, this qualifies as mother fucking cold. Essentially, Busan waited until the 1st of November to turn on Autumn. Just last week, I was wearing a skirt and no sweater. Last week.
Being mother fucking cold, I decided that it was time to retire the air conditioner and turn on the heat. Having a heated floor is more or less my favourite thing about Korea. Unfortunately, my floor’s failure to cooperate killed my buzz. Six hours and no dice; it was still mother fucking cold.

Swollen Face, Tired Hair

As opposed to simply telling me that I looked like I hadn’t slept in three days like they usually do, a couple of my students decided that today was the day to get creative. The first asked me why my face was “swollen”, and the second advised me that I had “tired hair”. The first laughed at the second and informed her that the hair comment was rather rude. The swollen face comment? Totally acceptable, apparently.

Sometimes, Korea is Magical.

As I posted the other day, I lost a couple important pieces of plastic over the weekend. I suspect that they fell out one of the times that I clunked my wallet on the bar Friday night, or possibly when I was throwing it around in a taxi shortly thereafter. Either way, dumb.

I don’t ever lose things.
I’ve never lost my passport.
Or my driver’s licence (largely because I don’t drive).
I’ve never lost my cell phone.
Or my wallet (except for those two times that I left it at the library. I was 14 and a world away, so this doesn’t count).
I’ve never lost anything that matters.

My Contract Extension: is it March yet?

I feel like pizza, but the closest pizza place to my apartment is a 10 minute walk. 15, if I miss the lights, which I would. If I hadn’t been too lazy to brush up on my pizza-ordering vocabulary, I’d order in. Of course, I was. I’m contemplating relearning it. The pizza hole that is my stomach will undoubtedly desire to be filled at least a few more times over the next four and a half months. Still, lazy. I need more incentive.

This is the week that I’m supposed to sign my contract extension. This is the weekend that I lost my Alien Card. These are not compatible events. I seem to think I need one thing for the other to process. It will work itself out, as these thing do.

Select Weekend Musings

  • Faces are hard. Don’t hit them. Should you insist on hitting one, and it belongs to a drunk fellow, make sure that he stays down after you hit him. Otherwise, whoops.

  • A family holiday spent in the back of a packed bar, in the company of near-strangers, is roughly as unstimulating as I imagined it.
  • It’s easy to make friends here. Making friends that not only accept every last neurotic characteristic I have to offer, but realize those are the things which make me Me? Less easy. It sucks when people leave.
  • I spent two years trying to redefine myself, only to realize that there was nothing wrong with the original definition. Regression or growth through acceptance? To be determined at a later date.

Why is Jesus Wearing Hockey Pads?

On the way out my friend’s door last night I noticed picture taped to the door. The dog ear on the upper left corner was drooping so much that it covered half of the drawing, indicating that it had been hanging there for a while. Despite spending most of my Monday evenings in that apartment, watching trashy TV programs, I hadn’t noticed it before. Or perhaps I previously noted and had since forgot; This seems more likely.

The drawing was made on white printer paper with a single blood-red marker. A lonely stick-man was depicted, in a scene that looked suspiciously like the crucifixion. He hung from a single plank of wood, which his arms were spread out on. Blood gushed from the stick-man’s arms and fell into pools below him. Large rectangular objects appeared to be attached to his legs – This part didn’t quite fit.

"Uh…. why?" I pointed at it.
"A student gave it to me. I … don’t know."

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I’m Out There, Somewhere.

After three months of getting to sleep in until 9 or 10am, I’m back on the barely-morning shift. Getting up before the clock hits 6 isn’t as bad as it sounds. Though I’m out early enough to see the drunks keel over into their vomit on the corner, I’m home again before the morning rush hour has even begun. It’s not all bad.

Last time I went this long without posting, a couple of folks from home expressed concern. They do this. That’s why I keep them at home. So, let it be known that I’m out there, somewhere, doing just dandy. No better or worse than usual, really. I just forgot to post any of the things that I wrote this month. It happens from time to time.

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