when people change your life, you remember who they are.

i spent my new years eve with an IV drip hanging out of my hand.  after throwing up for five hours yesterday morning, i was unable to drink water or eat food without vomiting.  alas, i became nice and dehydrated and ended up going to the emergency room with mj, one of my students for next month.  i've never even taught mj, just know her from popping into her classroom to say hello to my old students.  and i can never repay her for her kindness.  after sending out a text canceling my new years eve party, mj responded by asking me if i needed to go to the hospital and that, if i did, she would help me.  i took her up on that last night.  her father and brother and mj appeared outside my front door about 9:30 last night and took me to the emergency room.  i was dizzy and nauseous and had a bitch of a headache.  i was cold, then hot, and frankly, would have preferred death to that state.  i had to pee in a cup, get blood drawn, get xrays taken, get an IV drip put in, and then, oh joy, had to get a fucking catheter put into me to collect more pee.  really, i could have just peed in a cup again.  i felt incredibly violated and wanted to smack the woman who did it in the hardest way imaginable.  but mj was there, behind the curtain, letting me squeeze the hell out of her tiny korean hand as i endured the pain.  bless her.

after 4 or 5 hours with the IV drip, the doc had my results.  apparently i have begun to ruin my stomach by eating spicy korean food.  the lining in my stomach is being disintegrated from all the chili i have eaten in korea.  2 1/2 months was all it took to really jack up my stomach.  fun.  i have to eat bland food for the next month or so.  no more kimchi or sundubu or dolsot bibimbap for me.  just plain, dull food.  i guess i will figure out how to use the rice cooker that lives in my house.  i have to eat this gooey stuff from a pouch an hour before i eat.  i get to take pills a half hour after i eat.

someone, please wrap me in bubble wrap so i do not get injured again.  i've had more bloody ailments in the last 2 1/2 months than i have in the last year.  perhaps i have not realized how much stress has been put on my body in this time, getting adjusted to korea.  my finger is healed and now it is my stomach i must work on.

if it isn't one thing, clearly it's another.

i wish i really had gotten food poisoning from the kimbap.  then i could still eat normal food.

i had a new years eve that i will never forget.  my friend oah said that this is called almatt, and that it is actually good luck and that i will have good things happen to me now.  it's kind of like in the sex and the city movie when charolette is scared that she will have bad luck and lose her baby.  carrie tells her that she shit her pants and that her bad luck is over with.  hopefully i am like charolette in that i puked out my guts and now things will be better.  im not sure it could really get worse.  

here's to 2009 starting off on a really shitty (or pukey?) note and to it only getting better.

and here's to mj and her brother and father and mother (who worried at home all the while i was in the hospital), a truly kind and wonderful family.  this sort of thing is scary enough when you are in your home country, but when you are overseas, it really means a lot to have someone give up their new years eve to take care of you.  as mj said, it was a 'special' night.  koreans are quite possibly the kindest people i have ever met in my life.

love and kindness on the last day of 2008.

i began my new years eve not by sleeping late and getting ready to party.  i began my new years eve by awaking at 2 am with a miserable stomachache.  i probably threw up about ten times in a matter of three or four hours.  i think i ate bad kimbap yesterday.  i eat kimbap nearly everyday; how is it that the night before new years eve, i manage to eat the skanky one that makes me illy?

i got out of bed around 8, tired of tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position for my stomach in order to not feel like i was going to ralph at any moment.  i brought a pillow and blanket and camped out on my couch, mac on lap.  i talked to a couple people very close to my heart.  they made me feel better, made me smile, even though my stomach was constantly wrenching with pain and nauseau.  i texted some friends i had invited for a new years party chez moi, canceling plans.  my texts were replied to with caring words, offering to take me to the hospital if i needed help.  one of my students, who i call my 'fake boyfriend,' brought me medicine on his way to hansungdae.  his dad is a pharmacist, so i got hooked up with asian and western medicine.  

koreans are so kind.  when i had my finger problems, i texted an old student, asking where to go.  he did not tell me a place, but offered to take me there after class.  in america, we would just give information.  we might offer to take the person, but it would be difficult, as we would put work before helping someone who really needs it.  i hate that i am sick and cannot have these wonderful people to my house to celebrate a brand new year.  

i really like koreans.  they are friendly and kind.  perhaps i will stay here longer than planned.

but then again, the best laid plans of mice and men (and pussycats) often go awry.  i certainly could not have told you twelve hours ago that i would be sicker than a dog, laid up on the couch, trying not to puke my guts out.

another year older, but none the wiser?

i began 2008 with long, dark hair.  i end 2008 with short, dark hair.  bangs came and grew out.  

i began 2008 in paris.  i end 2008 in korea.  a year bookended by europe and asia, with america smooshed in the middle, im not sure i could ask for a better sequence of geographical events.  where i am today was not even being considered a year ago at this time.  if forced to tell you where i would be in a year, i would have said that i would be teaching in paris, dating mr. french.  but relationships change, plans go awry, and a thing called life steps in and throws curve balls that we could never imagine would be tossed our way.  i have meandered off of my path, yet have not completely gone astray.  

i remember coming back to america on january 2, 2008, completely in love with paris, thinking that there was no other place in this world for me.  life was stressful, finishing up that last bloody semester of college, hating every minute of those damned marketing classes, only somewhat enjoying the french class i took for my own personal knowledge of muslim immigration in france.  i remember coming back to madison after spring break, meeting up with becca to take a long walk and catch up.  i went home and began to freak out about life.  something inside of me burst open, a rage and confusion was consuming me.  i didn't know what i wanted with life.  and for the first time in a long while, it really upset me.  graduation was approaching and my life would soon be a blank canvas for me to paint in whatever manner i pleased.  a seemingly exciting notion of freedom scared the hell out of me.  i felt helpless and out of control.  katie and i had many nights outside the apartment, getting some, er, fresh air, bouncing ideas of life off of each other.  katie kept me sane.  and to my other friends who listened to my whining and bitching about how i hated certain teachers and how i was lost, thank you.

i graduated and a week later, started my tefl course.  it was long and tiring and again, made me contemplate what i was doing and if i really wanted to teach.  it forced me to think in simpler terms, not muddying up sentences with the unnecessary words that i very much love.  another relationship ended for good.  i was broken.  i cut my hair off a week later, knowing that i needed a change, a new me, a new outlook on things.  i fixed myself over the next two months, filling my days and nights with fun and friends, knowing that when the endless summer nights were up, i would be moving out of the country.  i took a job working at a japanese camp, falling in love with my ten little japanese high school students on a daily basis.  i considered taking a job in japan.  i returned to my original plan and applied for jobs in korea.  i went to new york.  while there, i got a job in korea.  sweet.  the canvas was beginning to be filled with paint, if only in the abstract method that my life will always remain.  i taught some conversation classes and saved up some bar money.

and then i came to korea.  it was certainly not the most conventional of choices, but it was time to make a choice and korea was what i chose.  asia scared me.  i didn't really want to come here.  i didn't understand asian people, didn't get their culture of crazy dressing and giggling girls writing with pens that 5-year olds would use.  so i forced myself out of my comfort zone, knowing that people are people, regardless of what they look like, where they are from, or what kind of writing instruments they use at any given age.  and now asia doesn't really scare me.  i may have been asked to leave my international student org in college (do not ask...if you know me, you already know the story.  if you do not, you do not need to know it.), but the motto never left me.  'make the world your comfort zone.'  that is the motto of my life, of course, in addition to 'i live my life in the pursuit of fun.'

and now it is december 30, 2008.  i no longer am at 2 rue burnouf in paris (although my heart will always remain there).  the curve ball that is korea was thrown my way and i batted.  i took charge of my life.  i made myself happy.  i fixed what needed fixing.  i fell in and out of love, and back into it again.  do i have regrets?  nah, not really.  did i make mistakes?  sure as hell i did.  but i dont really regret them.  they just add to my random book of scandalous tales that i will someday regale to my grandchildren.  

am i wiser?  hmm, that is up for debate.  i certainly do not think that i became dumber.  how exactly would one measure an increase in wiseness?  je ne suis pas sur.  but there is one thing i know for sure.  in the midst of drama and bullshit and hellish exams and bad men...

...i had a hell of a lot of fun.

photo ambush!

bonafide hustler making my name.

i went to the doc today to get my finger checked out.  the verdict: sista can paint her nails again!  saweetness.  to celebrate, i went to thefaceshop to pick up some baller polish.  i will be sporting midnight blue polish for the new year.  or 90s neon pink.  it has been miserable only being able to paint 9 of 10 nails.  its the little things that one takes for granted that really makes you happy once you get it back.

as i got off the subway at sookmyung, i spotted a little old woman shuffling along, also getting off the subway.  i steered out of her way, but as i passed, i saw that she had a balenciaga puffer jacket on.  i burst out laughing.  an 80-year old woman in a "real" balenciaga puffer jacket.  does balenciaga even make puffer jackets?  for old women?

oh korea.  you and your counterfeit goods.  how i hate them all.  there is no shame in korean counterfeit goods.  they'll counterfeit anything possible.  i saw a little girl with a pair of fake uggs today.  there was an ugg label sewed upside down on the back of her boots. ive seen 'black face' and 'east face' jackets.  koreans are label-obsessed.  ill never feel like a bitch again if i want something designer.  and at least ill buy the real deal.

my landlord is a bit of a nutter.  i think he comes into my apartment everyday while i am at work.  ive been having issues with my water heater and regular heater.  its all built into one unit.  sometimes when the heat is on, it sounds like there is a flood in my kitchen.  but no, its just what it does.  he comes down when i get home and tells me stuff in korean.  he points and nods like i understand.  i point and nod back and smile.  then he leaves.  

ive thought about buying a really raunchy sex toy to leave out on my counter.  maybe he will think twice about entering all the time.

oh well, he did haul out a chair i wanted to get rid of.  it smelled of cat piss and needed to be heaved.  i feel kinda bad.  he's a short, little, crippled old man.  he must have nearly thrown out his back.  the chair was as big as he.

new years party chez moi.  i dont feel like dealing with crazy crowds in seoul.  and i havent entertained in awhile.  all i want for new years is fun.  good friends, good drinks, good food.  no chaos, no drama.

the story of my life.

just another sunday afternoon in seoul.

so why don't you slide?

my sunday began like most other sundays: wake up far too early for any given sunday (6:30), coffee and fruit, a date with the bike.  i chatted a bit with my mum, called leslie, and did some sally-domestic chores.  my morning was frittered away, as most sunday mornings in korea are, and i opted to be somewhat productive and adventuresome come afternoon.

i began my walk to the subway, taking a route that allows me to not have to cross any streets or wait for any crosswalk men to turn green.  i was a bit startled when i heard some strange yelling noise coming from a truck.  i looked up and there was a little boy playing with one of those trucker radio mics.  i smiled the entire way to the subway, reminiscing how i used to play with the trucker mic in the old red truck, hoping all the while that the floor wouldn't rust out under my feet.  i love how little things take you back 20 years.

i got on the subway, noticing how the train was covered in life-size fubu stickers.  fubu: for us, by us.  and the 'us' generally refers to the african american population.  well, in korea, it refers to the korean population who are trying to be hip.  it is strange to see koreans in big, baggy fubu clothes.  is fubu even cool in the states anymore?

i met carla at seoul station around 1:15 and we headed to yongsan.  i was on a mission to buy a very large external hard-drive.  yongsan station is a train station, and as we subway-ed for two stops, i felt like i was back in paris.  there were train tracks running parallel to the subway tracks.  we were outside, not stuck in a tunnel.  i felt like i was in the RER, riding back to gare de l'est from charles de gaulle airport.  we left the subway and walked around the train station a bit.  i really love train stations.  so many people coming and going, i always find myself curious as to where people began or will end their journeys.  and then i found paris...there was an outdoor stage set up, and all around it stood trees decked out in lights and fake gold paper flowers.  in the midst of this stood a tall bronze eiffel tower.  once i walked out of the station and spotted the tower, i jumped up and down, ran over, and gave it a hug, forcing carla to take many-a-pictures.  

i may love korea, but my heart will always remain in paris.

we wandered through the station, finally figuring out how to get to the electronics market.  now, i am not a person to bargain, even if it is in english.  i opt to steer clear of markets, knowing that i will get ripped off because i am foreign.  i've been in korea for two months and have yet to go to dongdaemun or namdaemun markets.  i am a bit intimidated by markets, by all the vendors yelling at you to buy their wares.

yongsan electronics market was no different.  armed with carla, we quickly walked past vendors shouting, 'camera, camera!' and 'mp3, very good!' at us.  i felt a bit like i was at a carnival.  

i hate carnies.

we found the floor with computers and spotted a booth with about 30 external hard-drives displayed.  i asked how much the 320 gig hd cost.  i was looking for something under 140,000 won.  one of my dear students looked online for a hd for me; he found a 320 gig for 140 bucks.  i told myself that i would buy something if it was under that.  the fujitsu was 133 bucks.  sold.  i do not like to bargain with a vendor and i really do not like to bargain shop, preferring to throw away a few bucks in order to save a couple hours, not to mention stress.  an electronics market should not be intimidating, but when it is relatively bare of customers and you are the tall foreign chick, vendors look at you like an eagle spies a poor little wounded mouse.  they are ready to attack and pounce and take all of my hard-earned won and rip me off.  

i bought the hd and boogied away.  mission accomplished.

 after a quick stop at the cosmetics department, in search of some dior products, we decided to navigate our way to the han river.  i knew that we were close, but wasn't quite sure of how exactly to go about getting there.  i searched for the namsan tower and then looked the other way.  and that is the way we walked.  after crossing a few intersections that one should not really be crossing, we were on a bridge spanning the han river.  we made our way across, stopping for several photo opps.  once we were at the end, we decided to just walk back, as we didn't know where the bus stop was, and we were too tired to start up a new adventure.  after we were off the bridge, we luckily found a bus stop that had buses to take carla to seoul station and me to lotte.  i opted to forgo lotte today, as i knew it would be insane and, as i prefer to keep my sanity on sundays, i continued home on bus number 150.  

it was a lovely day.  i needed a change of scenery, an adventure.  crossing the han river made me feel less like i was in korea.  it was noisy, yes, as the traffic zipped past, but it was peaceful, too, the waves gently rolling under the bridge, birds flying overhead.  the han river is dirty and disgusting and not really the most beautiful piece of nature there is, but nonetheless, it is nature.  and nature is just what i needed.  

plus de photos de noel...

a perfect lie

i like to think of myself as a pretty spontaneous, carefree person.  i've been called effervescent (you know who you are) many-a-times.  i prefer to not get too wrapped up in future plans, opting to live my life as it comes, taking on the small daily battles as they come.

but today, i feel tired, rundown, unsure of myself.  i wonder how long i will stay in korea, wonder if i will stay at my current job for a few years or opt to find a uni position after a couple.  or will i go to a different country?  or say goodbye to the world of teaching and go to grad school?  and if that is the case, then what will i go for?  journalism?  mba?  econ?  

god, i hate myself right now.  i hate the annoying analytical voice in my head, screaming 'plan plan plan!'  this is the time when i wish i had a bathtub in my apartment, not just an all-in-one bathroom.  

i live my life in the pursuit of happiness and fun.  

this is a bloody funk.  it will pass.

the end.

people should smile more.

this is the first christmas in my life that i have been away from those whom i have known more than two and a half months.  i was not homesick.  i was not lonely.  and most importantly, i was not stressed.  the most stressful thing of my holiday season was sending home christmas cards and buying a few christmas pressies.  it was relaxed and lovely.

i worked 12 hours on christmas eve.  the last thing i needed was to have a stressful christmas.

i took my night class out with carla for christmas eve.  everything on piano street was packed, so we opted to forgo our initial plan of cocktails for dunkin donuts christmas cake.  the cake may have been ordinary and mediocre, but, but, but, one receives a free pair of fuzzy pink earmuffs that have headphones built right in.  yes, folks, you can plug your earmuffs into your ipod, making you look and feel stylish all at once.  only the koreans would develop a freebie product that combines cuteness with technology.

we had a good amount of cake left, so i forced two of my students to finish it off.  i played the airplane game with one of my students, accidentally spilling cake on him one of the many airplane rides to his mouth.  here is a video of me taunting one of my poor level ones...

i saw this sign as i was walking from the subway last night.  it made me smile, partly because of what it said, partly because there was nothing konglish about it.

i met up with one of my favorite students from last month, rachel, who has become a good friend.  we ate in hansungdae, at the place that i go nearly everyday for kimbap.  i dont know what rachel ordered, but it was not what i normally get (since i only know how to order two things) and it was a delicious change.  it was lovely to see rachel, as it has been about a month since we played.  we came back to my place for christmas cake, tea, and a little sex and the city.  my apartment was cozy and neither of us wanted to leave, but alas, i needed to see my carrah, so we bundled up and made our way through the frigid korean air to jongno sam-ga.  rachel had to leave abruptly, but carla and i trudged on to see the christmas lights.

we were not disappointed.  the lights around the chongeechong stream (i know that is not spelled correctly) were lovely.  there were so many teeny little korean people admiring the lights, taking picture after countless picture.  i really enjoy being taller than most everyone in this country, as i rarely have to wait for a place to open to take a picture.  i can just stand and get a clear shot of everything.

here are some video of korea all lit up.....uno......dos.....

after a couple hours outside, carla and i decided that we were frozen and hopped on a bus to insadong.  green onion and seafood pancake was our mission for christmas dinner.  and we succeeded.  it was a lovely christmas dinner, very simple, very calm, just two good friends chattering away about everything.

a lot of my students asked me if i was sad that i was not in america for christmas.  i'm really not sad.  sure, i would love to see my family, but this is the first christmas that i havent wanted to cry, as strange as that sounds.  christmas always makes me very emotional when i am at home.  and for some reason, i just don't feel sad here.  i do not feel lonely or emo, i feel happy to be alive.  i am thankful that i am in korea, thankful for the friends i have made here, thankful that i made this decision to come here.  it was not easy, but it was worth it.  

one thing that has changed about me is that i feel very positive here.  i used to dislike my life and i frequently complained about things.  i feel truly happy in korea and i have surrounded myself with positivity.  it is infectious and it makes my days so much brighter.  smile.  if you smile, someone else probably will, too...

merry christmas, korean style

love actually is all around.

this week i have been putting in a good amount of extra hours to make up for one of my classes that was cancelled a couple weeks ago.  i left work around 6, ready for a nice big cup of honey citron tea and some kendra time.  i made my way to hansungdae via a very crowded 150 bus, quite excited to get off and make the blustery walk home.  i picked up some bread and a lovely little creme puff at crown bakery, and then remembered that i needed some oranges and more tea.  i stopped at a little fruit stand where a lovely young man was helping customers get their produce.  i bought my oranges and my tea.  he said something in korean.  i just smiled my big dorky "i dont have a fucking clue what you're saying" smile.  as i was about to leave, he grabbed a little bitty orange, put it back, picked up a different one, and handed it to me.  i now have my fruit stand.

i made my way towards the dakpokki stand, hoping that my favorite brother/sister combo would be there to greet me as i passed by.  i saw the brother and then i saw the sister.  and then they saw me.  i waved and then decided to stop, curious as to how much english they spoke.  the answer is not much, but they are lovely (and yes, carla, brother and sister) and adore me and that makes up for the fact that we can barely communicate with each other.  the girl apologized and asked me for my name.  i told her and then i apologized for not remembering her name.  song ji-hun.  she is my favorite person in hansungdae.  i asked her and her brother (song jihoon) if they spoke english and they shook their heads and said, 'very little.'  when i said that i was an english teacher, they nearly jumped out of their fried chicken stand.  when i said 'ybm,' you would have thought that i had said 'the pope.'  we had a lovely little chat for five minutes.  i gave her my card and i got her email address.  i gave lots of hugs and was given lots of hugs.  it was nice.  i felt loved, so welcomed.  its nice to know that i am making someone's day.  she certainly makes my day every time i walk by there.  

i walked home smiling, knowing that i had made my little mark on a new part of the world.  

some of the teachers...

run.

im in a bit of a funk.  the meds im on for my finger made me feel like i was going to throw up during my talk time class this afternoon.  im tired and want to be alone.  i didn't even go to my work party tonight.  i just feel blah.  i need to pull myself out of this strange coma i appear to have fallen into.

tell me tomorrow, ill wait by the window for you.

ET ph9ne home

the above should read 'ET phone home, but as my right ring finger is bandaged up to be the size of a large carrot, i cannot properly type, forcing me to use the hunt and peck method of typing, at least with my right hand.

i had surgery today.

i could not bear the pain of this blasted ingrown nail, so i looked up dermatologists in seoul.  i found one a few subway stops away, called for an appointment, and made my way down.  

i hate going to the doctor.

i really hate going to the doctor in korea.  (or any foreign country, for that matter)

you are a number at the clinic here.  you take a number from a little automatic machine, much like you would take a number at the bakery department in an american grocery store.  i showed up much earlier than my appointment, hoping to get in early.  i waited about 40 minutes, nervously trying to read my copy of the new yorker that i picked up yesterday in itaewon.  i was called in.  i pulled off my bandaid and the doctor said, 'ew, thats infected, you need antibiotics.'

please, tell me something i dont already know.  perhaps you could tell me that i am tall while you are at it.

i asked if the nail needed to be cut out.  he said yes and made a call to the fourth floor.  i was escorted up there by a tiny little nurse.  i waited a few minutes and then the hell broke loose.  i went into a doctor's office.  he looked at my puss-y finger (i cant write pussy, it looks like a naughty word.  is something filled with puss also spelled like a, er, cat?) and then left the room.  he returned with a tiny pair of tweezers and gauze.  he then proceeded to dig into the side of my finger.  i nearly screamed.  on the verge of tears, i pulled my finger away, asking for something to get numb.  all i could think was, 'you son of a bitch.  motherfucker motherfucker motherfucker.'  (this was not the day to give up swearing.)

i was then told that i would need antibiotics and ointment and that i would have a procedure done.  i was told to wait in the waiting r00m, where i paid (30 bucks, not too bad for a procedure), and then was escorted to a small room.  i was in the 'laser area.'  all around me, people were getting acne scars and blemishes lasered away, while i succumbed to the pain of getting skin burned off.  he gave me a local anesthetic, thank god.  i begged him for as much as was possible.  he asked if i felt pain in the tip of my finger.  i said, 'yes, give me more!'  he obliged (bless him) and then the fun began.  his nurse was called in and he said, 'suction,' and she turned on a big machine that can only be described as making the sound of a hoover.  if only vacuuming br0ught this much pleasure.  i curled my toes up, clenched my teeth, turned to the left, and squeezed my eyeballs tightly closed.  i forced myself to think of a beautiful face to keep my mind from thinking, 'oozing puss-y bloody open sore.'  it smelled like burned skin in no time, one smell that i am all too familiar with...

it was done quickly.  i believe that i will go down in yooskin clinic as the wimpy american with dirty nails.  i was told to press down on the gauze for five minutes.  the nurse came in later to bandage me up.  by this time the fucking anesthetic was wearing off and i could feel the open flesh.  delicious.  she bandaged me up with a good roll of gauze and tape.  and it was so hygienic, she didn't even wear gloves.  the clinic clearly cannot afford to after one uses that much gauze and tape on me.  i was partly bandaged inside the room and then was finished off in the lobby, where a man spoke english on a telephone.  he had white cream all over his face.  it was covered in saran wrap.  im assuming he had some sort of laser treatment.  he seemed like a pompous asshole whom i wanted to punch.  getting such vain treatments while i suffer through getting finger skin lasered off.

all i could really think was, 'christ, i should be in here for botox, not my bloody finger.'

i went to the pharmacy to pick up my drugs.  i called carla to whine and then got on the subway.  luckily i had brought mittens with, so i could disguise my enormous right ring finger.  i wondered if i could sit in the handicapped and old person seats.  does a swollen finger count?

I SHOULD BE HOLDING UP A DIFFERENT FINGER

ET PHONE HOME

I'LL TAKE ONE BILLION DOLLARS....

AINT NOTHING BUT A GANGSTA PARTY...

time flies when you're having fun.

i must be having fun.  ive been in korea a day over two months.  part of me feels like i was just in madison yesterday, making french toast for leslie, teaching the korean kids at wesli, but part of me feels like ive been in korea much longer than just two months.  work is keeping me crazy busy, much busier than my first month.  i allowed myself to have one month to settle in, to get my system down, to keep myself from freaking out.

and then came month two and i was ready to run with it.  im getting a hell of a lot of overtime this month, which will continue to be the case for the next few months.  im trying to save as much as i possibly can, but am going to do a bit of traveling on long weekends.  and of course, there is an expensive leather bag from paris that i simply cannot live another year without.

time is going quickly.  im busy.  but, i must say, i am having fun.  

:)

i am a teacher. i am not a surgeon.

and i must keep reminding myself of this fact.

i am a do-it-yourself-er.  i paint my own nails and toes.  i give myself facials and body masks.  i wax my own eyebrows, for crying out loud.  i do not cut or color my own hair, as a self-attempt in paris two years back went extremely awry (not to mention how my self-cut at age five left me with a mangled mess of bangs).  and one thing that i have realized that i must leave to the professionals is surgery.

i gave myself a lovely manicure last thursday night.  i had a hang-nail.  i ripped the little sucker out, figuring it would swell up for a couple days and then disappear.  (mistake #1)  disappear it did not.  it has grown infected and swollen and really quite disgusting over the last few days.  i successfully squeezed out a hot mess of puss the other day, only to wake up the next morning with that hot mess-amount back, and then some.  my finger throbs and it is just painful to look at.  i enjoy having lovely nails, taking pride in the fact that i can give myself one hell of a manicure.  this whole situation kills me.  i look down and i see a gangrenous mass of swollen, puss-y skin.  sorry if you were eating while you read this.

i opted to forgo a google search for 'hang-nail infection home remedies' and headed to the pharmacy on my way home.  the pharmacist spoke a bit of english, thankfully, and she cringed when i showed her my disgusting excuse of a right digit.  she immediately said 'infection comes up' and grabbed a couple packets of pills.  i will take one green and two brown pills four times a day.  i will use a cream on my wound and cover it with a bandage two times a day.  and if all else fails, i will consider amputation.

perhaps i will start going to a professional manicurist from now on.

"nothing in this world happens by chance."

i believe that i was first introduced to the concept of fate around the time i was in fourth grade.  perhaps it was earlier, but i just cannot remember.  but i've always sort of grappled with this idea, wondering if we actually do control our actions or if we are just some puppets on a string in this show called life.  

but my name is kendra and i think that i believe more in my controlling my life.

call me a control freak if you must.

perhaps i believe that i have a bit of control over what happens in my life because i dont really have any organized form of religion, something to give my 'control' to.  i believe in myself and perhaps that is the only form of 'god' that i need. 

(for those of you believers out there, i am not trying to compare myself to your 'god' or sound superior in any way.  this is just an atheist/agnostic expressing herself.  you can always hit the close box if you deem it necessary...)

i think back on my life six months ago.  june 16, 2008.  exactly six months ago.  im not sure what i was doing.  i know i was in the last week of my tefl class, but the supporting details are a blur.  a relationship was ending, i was exhausted, a sea of opportunity awaited.  and i had no idea where to turn or what to do.  

then i got a job teaching japanese kids.  and then i got a job teaching conversation at my old esl school.  and then i got a job in korea.  and here is where i, again, struggle with the fate vs. control issue.  the japanese job landed in my lap.  i got an email one day offering me this job.  a thousand bucks for a week of teaching?  of course i will take that.  (fate: 1.  control: 0)

i opted to live in madison and work at the bar.  i needed a place to stay, so i checked to see if i could live in the esl dorms.  i found a home.  (fate: 1.  control: 1)

then the director of the esl school found out i was living in the dorms and offered me a conversation job.  (fate: 2.  control: 1)

then i got a job in korea.  this was due to my ambition, my drive, my finding it and applying and interviewing and dealing with all the visa bullshit.  there was no way that fate could come in on this one.  (fate: 2.  control: 2)

or could it?  due to some details i will not mention on the internet, i ended up working at a different school than the one i was originally supposed to be at.  and it is all the better and i know that i am much happier now than i would have been.  (fate: 3.  control: 2.)

so now i wonder, after seeing this tally staring me in the face, do i really have control of my life?  i began this by saying that i thought that i have control over my life, who i am, what i become.  but fuck, do i?

hmmmm...

maybe when we try to control things and put ourselves in situations that we feel would benefit us, fate will step in and things will work out.  we mustn't try to control it all, but perhaps we shouldn't be nonchalant about our lives and just 'let it all work itself out.'  maybe this is the answer to my prattling.  if i put myself in a situation that i want to be in, the details will work themselves out.  

"nothing in this world happens by chance."  or does it?

perhaps the answer will come to me while i get my beauty rest.

kendra's biggest fan

for good time, watch this video.  (and call carrah!)

my best friend...have nice daaayyy!!!!!

a memory very much blocked...until level 5 class.

this month, almost all of my classes are level ones or lower.  this means that my days are spent explaining how to form simple yes/no and wh- questions.  as thrilling as this may seem, it is really refreshing to actually be able to discuss topics that i enjoy with my students.  the topic of discussion for today was disasters.  we began discussing different kinds of disasters, both natural and man-made.  terrorism was listed under man-made.

terrorism.

a topic that i tend to not think about too much, as it always leads back to my hatred for our current president.  but my students were curious about how a real american felt.  they asked about 9/11.  i told them.

'well, i remember the exact day, what i was doing, where i was.  i was a junior in high school.  it was picture day.  i was wearing a light blue corduroy skirt, white button down, red crewneck pullover sweater.  black knee-highs and grey mary janes.  i was in psychology class with mr. lyons.  it was the first class of my day.  our principal came in the room and pulled out my teacher.  he came back in and turned on the tv.  we watched one of the towers on fire.  then the other plane hit the other tower.  and then they collapsed.  it was pure destruction.  later that day, we saw the plane hit the pentagon.  and then the other plane in pennsylvania.  we didn't do anything in school that day, just watch tv, watch reports, wondering what would be hit next.  the golden gate bridge?  sears tower?  no one knew.  after school, my dad and i drove to pick up my mom and we went to the grocery store.  we bought a lot of sugar and flour and water and things that wouldn't spoil.  the store was really packed with other people doing the same thing.  we made sure to fill up our gas tank.  no one knew what would happen.  it was a day of change in america.  it was scary.  we didn't feel safe anymore.'

as i told my students my description of that day, they listened contently, happy to hear what a real american had to say.  i then discussed my opinions on 9/11 and they seemed very surprised to hear that i did not believe everything the media had been feeding society.  they must really think that every american is complacent and doesn't have enough energy to search for the truth.  

i havent thought about 9/11 in depth for years.  for a few minutes, i actually thought i might cry in class.  it hurt.  i realized that it was a part of me that i hadn't wanted to think about.  i tend to push away memories of relationships, but didn't think i did it for world events.  i felt like someone had stabbed me.  that event had affected me, even though i didn't quite realize the magnitude.

class was pretty depressing.  i think i will bring them a video or something happy next week.  

the session is halfway done.  its going really quickly, albeit seemingly long at times, due to my having to explain things over and over to every level one class.  i think ill stay two years.  two years with a couple months off in between.  paris or barcelona for a few weeks would be lovely...

on a clear day, ill fly home to you

i went out with some old students tonight.  we had japanese fusion and drank lots of sake and red wine.  by the time the other teachers met up with us, i was three quarters of the way into the bag, and quickly opted to take my drunken self home.  

i wondered what it would be like to fall asleep on the bus, waking up at the end of the line, lost, confused, angry.  

i made it a point to stay away until i heard the 'hansungdae, samsung-geo' called as the next stop.  i forced my tired bones to get up, passing my subway card on the bus scanner.  i walked home in a stupor.  as i waited to cross the street by the olivia lauren store that i use as a land-marker to find my way, i saw cars racing by, people coming and going, a bit of chaos.  and i began to wonder what the point of it all really is.  i thought, 'perhaps this really is hell on earth, that we must go through this strange game of life in order to get somewhere else.'  (this is coming from an agnostic/atheist contemplative chick...i'm talking about hell?  what?) 

but then again, i am a bit drunk.

maybe half in the bag as i write this.

the air was brisk and the walk seemed to take forever, but as i passed through my gate, i looked into the night sky and up at the moon.  a full moon was hidden behind some very sheer clouds.  i stopped and looked up, knowing very well that my landlord would truly believe i was the crazy foreigner he was renting to if he saw me 'worshipping' the moon.  it was really beautiful, though, making me think that maybe this life isn't all that bad.  amid all the chaos and insanity lies opportunity and beauty, allowing us to turn our lives into whatever we so please.  the only limit on what we do in life is our creative ability.  if you can dream it, you can do it.  so cliche, yet so incredibly true.

and now it is time for bed.

woohoo six hours of saturday classes.

i love my job.

i love my job.

i love my job.

i love level ones.

i love level ones.

i love level ones.

i love level ones.

i love level ones.

hello, my name is kenlra.

after class today, i meandered down insadong, searching for christmas presents.  i found some good stuff, get excited mum and popsicle.  i also found the chopstick and spoon set that mr. kim gave me.  70,000 won.  holy shit.  i was going to buy the same one for my bro, as he loves his sushi, but 70 bucks for bloody chopsticks?  jowza!

i met carla on piano street and walked to kyobo bookstore.  when i am stressed and freaking out about life, i go to the bookstore.  i spent many-a-confused afternoons in the travel section at the uw bookstore, trying to find inspiration and direction for my chaotic life.  kyobo is a different story.  i think that the entire city of madison could have fit into kyobo, and maybe a few of the suburbs.  the place is huge and it is packed full of koreans.  im really not sure where all the koreans come from.  wherever you go and whatever time you go, any place in seoul is bound to be packed.  anyway, i found a few christmas cards, even one that says 'merry chreistmas.'  it is ugly as fuck, but i opted to buy it to add to my konglish collection.  

i made my way to the foreign book section, hoping to find solace there with the other foreigners.  no, the koreans had infiltrated the english section, too.  i picked up a few books, two english, two french.  i forced myself to check out after awhile, as i easily could have blown my entire paycheck in no time.  i bought 'le petit prince' and a french book of christmas poetry.  ive never read 'le petit prince,' and decided that it was time to read a classic, as well as to read something that i actually had to think about.  teaching english makes you lose your own english.  whenever i talk with carla, she corrects me for saying really simplified, stupid shit.  theseoulofpussycat is bound to just go to shit after awhile, being only constructed of simple present sentences.

i went to check out and the cashier girl asked if i wanted to open a kyobo discount card.  i said yes and she had me fill out a card with my name and birthday.  she called another girl over and she took the card to go get my card made.  she came back a few minutes later with my membership card.  kenlra schaffer.  i know i do not have the most beautiful handwriting in the world, but a 'd' doesn't look exactly like an 'l.'  im actually surprised that they didn't write 'kenolra,' as that would look more like 'kendra.'  

oh well, ill always be 'kend-ah-rah' to the koreans.

i made my way home on the bus, listening to some massive attack, pondering the meaning of life.  i ponder the meaning of life, but never actually come up with much of an answer.  i think that is the whole purpose, though.  if we found a solution, an answer, what else would we do with our time whilst riding the bus, listening to 'teardrop?'