You Wanna Laugh?

Please head over and view Roboseyo's translation work. Outstanding. I peed my pants.

Turnover

We're losing another teacher at the end of the week. So that's three teachers who have quit in two months. Unfortunately, the latest one to leave has grown to be one of my favourite co-workers ever. I pretty much knew I was going to like her once I found out her family has five dogs and a cat. Out at a hweshick a few weeks ago we got to talking about our cats and I actually convinced her to take her young girl-cat "Nabi" (Butterfly) in to get spayed. Her cat was driving her nuts with all the yowling and rubbing, but she hadn't realized it was because the cat was in heat. I totally sold her on the surgery when I warned her that if her cat did manage to escape the house she was going to come back pregnant. So score one for decreasing the unwanted pet population.

I'm bummed shes leaving to open up a "kalguksu" restaurant. My boss isn't pleased that she only stayed with us a couple months, and I think there's some worry about what the parents are going to think about us burning through so many teachers in such a short time.

My newest co-worker remains unimpressive. She doesn't speak often, but when she does it's in "baby ga-ga coos" in both English and Korean and she still does the jiggly dance thing all the time, which I had hoped was just a nervous habit she'd get over after a while. Apparently it's not. I asked her, when we were picking out an English nickname for her, if she'd ever been given an English name before. She replied that she had and then struggled to remember what it had been. I almost choked when she finally recalled it was "Morticia." I asked if it had been a guy who'd given her that name, and sure enough it was. "What a jerk," I thought, but now I sort of understand.

At her welcome party she sat hunched over looking downright miserable and saying nothing until she finally excused herself at 11:15, saying her mother was going to worry why she was out so late. Shes a wild one, that Morticia.

Speaking of wild, I've got this student who has been a constant thorn in my otherwise fairly lovely garden of good little students. I've been teaching him for about a year now and I inwardly groan when I've got to deal with him. I know I should love all the little children, but I actually sort of hate this child. I've got five other students in that class who are eager, enthusiastic, and well behaved. I resent that I have to spend so much time micro-managing this one boy and the two other boys he riles up every class. The kid has absolutely zero impulse control, and no, I'm not a clinician - but I'd venture to say he displays obvious signs of ADHD. I stressed him out yesterday by first confiscating his toys, and then denying him a sticker because he made several mistakes while whizzing through his work because he needs to be "!FIRST FIRST TEACHER I'M FINISHED I'M FIRST I'M DONE FIRRRRSSSTTT!" He sulked back to his chair and proceeded to, while he thought no one was watching, yank hair out of his head AND EAT IT! Ohhhh. ADHD/OCD. Great.

Tomorrow I'm going to change his name to Damien.

One of my adult students is a private tutor who helps kids with developmental and learning disabilities. She was telling me in class tonight how she'd had a bad day because one of her students threw a desk at her and then bit her shoulder. The kid drew blood. So I guess there's always someone who's having a worse day than you.

Big Wheel

Perhaps there's no better way to snag a panoramic view of the glorious city of Ulsan than to ride the giant fancy neon Ferris Wheel that sits atop a building adjoined to Lotte Department Store in Samsan-dong.



We approached the behemoth wheel and the fellow manning the booth gestured to my companion and said, "Who he?" I replied that he was my friend, and the Ferris Wheel man shook his head and nodded in the direction of a sign.



See the bottom part? Hmm. The ""Wheel" is only to be enjoyed by family and lover. The man in the booth would not be moved. So my friend and I had to sneak into a bathroom stall to make a happy sex time. Luckily, his wallet bore the circular imprint of a long stored condom, as further posted rules were even more specific.



There were a whole bunch of rules:



just The Man trying to Bring You Down.
IMO the best way to enjoy the ride is to be drunken. Very very drunken.

So, anyways we reappeared and affirmed that we were now lovers and no, I hadn't been got the pregnant, and we were allowed on. I wanted to jump out the locked caged car almost immediately because our in-car music thingie didn't work and as we slothed our way further from the ground I had trouble hearing the "gee gee gee gee baby baby baby" that blasted from the speakers below.

The lights of Ulsan are pretty, but I'd recommend riding the Wheel of Yawn during daylight hours. Because hopefully that's more interesting than riding it at night. Which is what we did. Which was yawn inducing. And just so you know, standing in your overheated car (air-conditioned in the summer, yee-haw) and rocking it back and forth is heavily frowned upon. Your music-less speaker will somehow crackle to life and yell at you to sit the hell down.

Drag

When I was young, I'd cross the bridge every day from my apartment building which yawned over one of the major highways in Toronto. For eight years, that bridge crossing would lead me most days toward school, but the weekends were different. I'd stop short just at the other side of the bridge and head to the arena.

Public skate was held in the afternoon and I was there most Saturdays and Sundays, sporting my furry brown skate-covers my mother had made on her sewing machine. I didn't care that they were different from the super popular baby blue store-bought versions, mine made me feel like a skating bear.

I had a crush on one of the guards. I think his first name was either Dave or Mike, but for sure his last name was MacKenzie, which was what all his other skate-guard buddies called him. That was the name I'd calligraphy onto my duo-tangs at school and surround with a heart. I was Mrs. McKenzie in my head, and we'd whirl around Olympic style during the couples skate portion of the afternoon. Of course, that never happened, which is well and good I suppose - as the Zamboni would have had to scrape my jellied splattered too-happy heart off the ice. No one wants that sort of mess.

Instead, what happened was that once they'd announced the start of couples skate over the intercom my friends and I would skate away, refusing to get off the ice. For sure it was some negative attention seeking, and would result in McKenzie and one of his buddies carrying me off the ice by the wrists and ankles. That used to thrill me, because I had absolutely no sense of grace or dignity. I was eleven, so I understand that I didn't know any better.

McKenzie used to compliment me on my ability to skate backwards and I'd glow. "Can you show me how you do that?" he'd ask, and I'd enthusiastically glide away from him.
Then he'd skate away in the opposite direction. I fell for it every single time.

As for the "couple's skate" I'm not sure how old I was when I suddenly did know better, but I remember struggling against McKenzie and whatever guard that week had drawn the short straw to round up the renegade losers off the ice. My gingham top rode up and my too tight Mac jeans were starting to slide down over my hips. I realized that not only was I being carried off the ice (for the umpteenth time) but I was going to be naked by the time we reached the penalty box. I stopped struggling, and grabbed McKenzie's arm after he deposited me to squeak out an "I'm sorry," before he skated off. After that I didn't need to be asked twice to stop skating when the time came.


So here I am, fast forward almost thirty years later.
I wrote this a week ago and I keep opening it to edit. There are a bunch of reasons why I'm going to type the next sentence, but I just can't share right now. Still, I often wish I had someone who would just drag me the fuck off the ice already, pants be damned.

Gummy

I'm worried about Kami. One of his teeth fell out this morning - a bottom fang. I've got to take him to the vet and he HATES going to the vet. They'll have to put him under to clean his teeth, and that's risky.

Worry worry worry.

Fleurs

Happy April Fleurs Day!
Did you get punked yet?

It's a good thing I took some time to appreciate the blooming magnolia trees outside my apartment building, because those lovely flowers die so quickly. Here's a picture I took exactly one week later.



And from yesterday.



They're melllllting!

No matter, though. There are plenty of other pretty things springing to life these days. The cherry blossom trees still need another couple days or so, but in the meantime there's a bat-like thing hanging from the forsythia.



I wonder what's inside.

There are pink flowers.



And red cousins of the pink flowers.



Lots of cousins.



And perfect roses.



Pay no attention to the ubiquitous mounds of trash.



Focus on the pretty!

Voodoo Child

I know there's someone out there with a little voodoo doll of me. That is the only logical explanation for why it felt like a needle was being poked through the side of my left nipple all day long Sunday. I know I wasn't in a tattoo shop getting my nipple pierced, because I checked. I was in pajamas in my apartment. So someone was somewhere else sliding a needle in and out of their Jelly-doll. Maybe the button nipple had fallen off and they were just taking a really long time sewing it back on.

Then sometime last night the same someone who lives somewhere did something to their Jelly voodoo doll - I don't know what voodoo trick specifically,...maybe the smearing of strawberry jam or just pressing some chewed up gum under the right eye which resulted in my waking up with a little bump. That was irritating. Throughout the day, though, more voodoo juju must have been performed and the bump turned into a stye that sits under the full length of my eye like a big peach leech, or a blister's angry sister.

So now my thought process pretty much goes like: *blink* "ouch" *blink* "ouch" *blink* "ouch" *blink* "&^%&ing OUCH!"

Remember when I wasn't dreaming of blue turtles? I've had the crumbling falling out teeth dream twice more since then, and I know that the shattering fangs in my mouth sound exactly like LEGOs® being bounced around in a bag.

*Blink.*
*OUCH!*

Are you Earth Houring?

Tonight at 8:30 pm in their local time, people all over the world are going to be turning out their lights and turning off their appliances for sixty minutes in support of Earth Hour. I can't see any link to Korea on their website, and haven't seen any advertising on Korean television channels, though I didn't look very hard. I talked to my co-workers and they hadn't heard anything about it - so I don't know how many people will go dark here for an hour tonight. I told my friend she should turn off all non-essential lights at her restaurant and she thought I was funny.

I will be in the dark though. I'm going to do one better, even, and turn off all my stuff and settle in for a nice evening nap pretty soon after I hit publish on this post. That'll be about 3.5 hours worth of energy conservation. So, if 2.5 of you didn't participate in Earth Hour don't worry. I got your back.

Oh, I read on the web yesterday that many famous landmarks are going to be turning out their lights and participating, including the Eiffel Tower, Sydney Opera House, Golden Gate Bridge, and the Great Pyramids and Sphinx. Pretty cool. Je fais dodo maintenant. Night night!

What Happens to Ice Cream

One of my students invited me to touch the tongue on the cover of her massive pop-up book. I wasn't so excited because the rubbery tongue was sticky and covered with lint. The kid in the story was eating an ice cream cone.



His tongue was very stretchy!



And so began the story of what happens when you eat an ice cream cone. Here are the highlights!
Blah blah blah mouth, tongue, teeth, saliva blah blah.



Blah blah blah your insides stomach acid blah blah blah



Blah your intestines and your ice cream is turning into poop.



Springy intestines! Poop wants out!



Let your poop out! Blah blah Nnnnnngggaaaahhhhh!



The end!

Metrosexual Flower Man

James, over at I Spy Shanghai just returned from weekend journey to his old stomping grounds in Seoul. In his Shoe Tuesday post he writes about the Metrosexual Flower Men who abound in Korea. In his very next post he mentions The Face Shop. I'm hoping he isn't planning on tying those two things together in his next post, because I'm going to beat him to it.

Bae Yong Jun, (aka Yon-sama in Japan) was the star of the very popular drama Winter Sonata (겨울연가) from a few years ago. It seems he hasn't done too much acting since then, but he is the latest Face of The Face Shop. He is also the Quing of Metrosexual Flower Men.



He was the absolute darling of middle aged Korean and Japanese women. For some reason, he's turned into one of them, pretty much. See the flowers? See the metrosexual? That strap he's fingering over his shoulder for sure must be a giant murse.


See the metrosexual marvel at bamboo?



How much do you want to bet he's wearing the L'ame perfume pictured at James's?

Spring Hath Sprung

These trees were bare on Monday, which turned out to be a nice mild spring-like day. The previous Monday we overnight temperatures fall to below zero and there was a 30% chance that it would snow. It did not. It snowed ONCE here during winter. For about five minutes.

Anyhow, by Tuesday the magnolias had just POPPED! Yesterday they were in full bloom.



They smell delicious, and I would gladly spend the whole day with my face smushed into them, inhaling through my flowerxygen mask.



But work beckoned like it always does. My walk is going to be enjoyable over the next few weeks as flowers blossom and green returns to the countryside. The forsythia has busted out on the way down the hill.



Today must have gotten up to about 20 degrees even under cloudy skies, and it was MUGGY! Spring doesn't last very long here, so it's a good idea I enjoy it while I can. Soon enough we'll be back into the sauna of summer, and I'm not a big fan.

Who's the Boss?

My cat Kamikaze walked over to where I was sitting at the computer and meowed at me. I leaned over to pet him, asking "What?" He meowed again. "What, Kami?" He meowed louder as I scratched behind his ears. Very Loud Meow. "What?" "MROOOOOWWWWWW!"

"You're nuts" I said, and I got up to turn off the washing machine. Kami jumped up onto the chair I'd just evacuated and plopped himself down, glaring at me.

I can't believe my cat told me to "MOVE!"

Moth

Working in a Coalmine

Only instead of coal, our main byproduct is yellow dust. Nasty stuff, that. I'm in Day Five of "The Constant Headache" and I'm going to blame all the toxic shit in the air.

I haven't written about work for a little while, other than the thought that I need a vacation from it,...so here goes.

Three weeks ago we hired a new teacher. She's a young, pretty, recent university graduate. Her English was quite decent, which made me happy. What didn't thrill me was that she was given the desk right beside mine - which has been empty for all the years I've worked at my school. I used the space underneath it to store some of my stuff, and the drawer held contents that all the teachers used. So I had to squish more things into my space. Almost five years teaching means that I've acquired a lot of materials. I also teach double the classes of any given Korean teacher, so it stands to reason I needs me some space. The other thing that I was wondering about was why we needed a new teacher. Our student numbers don't warrant it at all, and I know my boss is in quite a financial pickle - so I'm questioning how the added salary is being justified.

Our "manager" doesn't want to teach. It appears that she needs more time to sit at her desk pretending to be busy when she's not studying her fingernails and torturing me by turning on the heater she parks right beside her.

Three days in, the new teacher got an interview for a position she really wanted at some other company, and three days after that she was packing up and saying "bye!" The advertisement my school had placed had gotten more than one response, though, so they moved down the list, got another young recent uni grad to come in for an interview and hired her right away. She started the following day so there wasn't even a gap where my manager needed to resume working teaching.

The new teacher's first question to me was, "You is name Jelly?" so I had a sense of what her English is like. Blah. She's only been working a week now so there's not too much that I know about her except that she seems to want to even further reduce the amount of space I have in the Teacher's Room by standing most of the time between me and her chair. I get to have her bum in my face quite a lot. She also does this strange jig all the time. I really don't know what that's all about. To get from the place where she's sticking her bum in my space to the photocopier, say, she does this waggly jog with her arms all askew and her shoulders shaking. It's sort of like the whiny dance that goes along with the "Opppppaaaa" protest/whine. I think maybe some ex-boyfriend told her she's super cute when she throws a playful mini-tantrum and she decided to incorporate that cuteness as her mode of general transportation. Like I said, I don't get it. My down-to-Earth other co-teacher shares my confusion. She doubled over laughing when I nodded toward the new dancing teacher and raised my eyebrows like, "What's up with that?" Tomorrow we've got a "hwe-shick" (work party) to welcome the new teacher. She doesn't drink, which is no fun but okay. More for me.

Something's going to happen soon at work and I'm not sure what it is. My boss is tapped out and can't afford to keep losing money. I hear an axe being sharpened somewhere, but I'm assured it shan't fall upon me. I don't think the end is nigh for the school, either - but I could be wrong. My pay, which has already been delayed by five days for the past few months came up short yesterday by more than half. This isn't good news, but there isn't much I'm willing to do about it right now. I trust my boss, who complimented me yesterday by saying I'm the best teacher he's ever met and he'd like to work with me forever. I can't agree to forever, but I'll keep showing up for the next thirteen weeks or so.

And then what?
I don't knooooowwwwwwwww.

Rainbow Poodle Judges You

For not believing in the !MAGIC! that is RAINBOW POODLE.
I managed to take this picture just before Rainbow Poodle (and his shopping cart) flew away. Fer realz.

I Love Chicken Food

Don't you?

Dreaming not of Blue Turtles

I just woke up from a very real dream where all my teeth were crumbling. I'd just touch my tongue to them and they'd shatter in half or more and I was spitting the chunks out into my hand. They looked like little blood soaked bits of bone. When I opened my mouth and looked in a mirror there were just gums and holes filled with blood where my teeth used to be.

I was SO relieved to wake up and discover I still had teeth. I can't even tell you how shaken yet pleased I was. Did you ever have a dream like that? Bloody awful.

Looking online, I found this interpretation of a teeth-falling-out-dream: "Perhaps you are having difficulties expressing yourself or getting your point across. You feel frustrated when your voice is not being heard." That might speak toward the fact that I thought all day about what I should write about and couldn't seem to come up with a damned thing.

That's not even true. I've got plenty to say, but I'm feeling like I'm under some kind of self-imposed gag order. Sucks.

Last week I had a dream that a whole field of asteroids was heading towards Earth. There was nothing anyone could do about it. The Earth was going to explode and death was imminent for all. The atmosphere had already changed and was glowing bright orange and outside people were panicking, knowing that they just had a few short hours left to live. Inside, I was teaching class of kindergarten students. I kept having to scold the kids to "come away from the windows already and open your books!"

I don't even need to look that one up. I think I need a vacation.

Long Time John

He's back!

Finally my pal John at Long Time Gone is back! His original site got stolen, pretty much. You should head on over and read all about it and say hi!

Welcome back, John!

Craptastic

I woke up stiff and stuffy, much too early for a sleep-in Sunday. Quite the perfect recipe for crankiness. I'd promised to get up and out into the sunshine, but I wasn't feeling like it at all. I was growly when the phone rang and startled me awake just as I was drifting off into "Sleep: The Sequel."

I wasn't able to cancel, but managed to re-negotiate and whittle down the day's events. Unfortunately it meant cutting out the best parts: a nice drive in the country and some springtime frolicking on a beach. Instead, we set out to work on the filling out of many government forms on-line. We headed to my school, where there are three computers that don't crash every five minutes like my home PC (which is short for Piece of Crap) does. I've got the key to the school, but not to the door leading to the second floor which we found locked. Grrrr.

So we went to an overheated loud smokey PC bang (Internet cafe) and spent over two hours trying to sort out faded faxes and strangely translated documents. There were five forms totalling eleven pages and they can only be printed out once they're complete. You can't save them to any computer. You can't copy them and forward them so you can finish them later. Must print.

I'd taken note of the printer behind the front desk when we'd entered the PC bang. Unfortunately, it didn't occur to me to ask if it was working.

It was not.

So I spent another thirty minutes or so picking through the forms, cutting and pasting the details we'd been arguing over for the previous couple hours, "I think you spell it Mung-hwangae." "No, it should be Mun-kwangay." I copied our work to notepad, saved it to the PC, opened my e-mail, attached the file and sent it to myself. Then I checked just to make sure it had gone through. Refresh. Nope. Refresh. Nu-uh. Refreshrefreshrefresh. "#*&^%$^, where IS IT?!?" I check my "Sent" box. Yes, it had been sent. To my father.

Which wouldn't be a problem, except that I haven't spoken to the man in a year and a half. So now I've sent him an empty e-mail with an attached file filled with jibberish and a bunch of personal details for someone he's never met. At least it wasn't porn, I guess. Not that I send out porn. Much porn.

I think "porn" is a funny word.

Still, now I worry that in short order my father is going to pop up like one of those little brown mounds in a "Whack-a-Mole" game and I'm going to have to root around for my big spongey mallet.

I really should have stayed in bed.

Locked Out

I apologize for the lack of posting. My computer is a pile of crap and it tends to crash if I even look at it in a way that displeases it. The other night I gave it the finger and threatened to throw it off the balcony after it had crashed for the twenty-fifth time, and so I think my computer contacted my ISP who then threw up a barrier page to connect to the innernets that requires an ID and password which I was never given.

So for the time being, I'm locked out. Technology is conspiring to keep me isolated and out of the loop. My face is all -----> :(

Meanwhile, please enjoy my pussy cat.