I often say that I hate to be a flake. I follow this up with a justification that I'm actually not a flake but that this was a special circumstance. Sly fox move, Bub, but it doesn't work. If you flake, you flake. Now this isn't to say that if you cancel a plan that you flaked. They're separate issues, but often tied up real tight 'round one another. But I flaked on the beach today and I felt bad doing so.
That being said, had I gone I would not have felt relaxed. 'Cause I had shit to do. Biggest frog on the plate? Clean the incredible amount of mold off of my wall. It was pretty gruesome and I only discovered it recently when I tried to make use of the perfect little shelf conveniently blocking the patch of microscopic filth. But some with my amazing improv skills as well as my power of assumption ('cause I have yet to learn "bleach" in Korean), I've turned that Incredible Hulk into a mere slab of sad wet looking cedar in the foyer. I'll call it a foyer. I also bought a half-ton bag of rice and an exfoliating loofa. I might actually be a real person now. To celebrate this, I preemptively ate an entire Hawaiian pizza last night. On the way home from the parlor. Call me King, my people.
I do feel, however, that I could be doing more to make sure this experience is as fulfilling as possible. I could study more of the language and check out more of the culture. This can be made difficult with such a rich community of other foreign teachers ("White Devils" as they've been spraypainting on our backs as we rest in the parks) and the all-knowing-all-omnipotent social-networking mediums in our pockets and homes. I do justify this in that I'm still trying to wrap my big ol' head around the giant beehive that is the curriculum under which I teach. It is a testament to the fact that even in this digital day, there are some systems in which paperwork is thriving as a means to victory. And if that system fails, no matter: you simply add more paperwork to the equation! My only qualm is that I don't understand it yet. Once I get it, I'll own it. And once I own it, I'll ruin it. At least that's what I do with anything else I buy (shoes, nice hampers, quirky sunglasses...the list goes on).
Just kidding, Boss and Co-Workers. You're all safe from my eventual status as #1. As for the rest of you...
I almost bought a $40 box of apples at the Mungyeong Saejae Apple Festival on Saturday by accident. Had Min Young not noticed my trembling knees knocking at the skirt of the Ol' Apple Lady tent, I would have been linguistically powerless to convey that I only wanted one fucking apple. She started packing up a box, took my 50,000 won note and exchanged it for the 10,000 won note she gleefully handed back to my Dur-Stricken facehands and ignored my whimpers of protest. That would have been a delicious bummer. Lucky for me I have friends in Korean places.
A'ight, Yo. It's 11:20 and time to begin my slow, distracted descent to sleep. I should be proper laid out by 4am. In the meantime, I'm'a go organize my hat or put on a second sock.
Be well. Think forward. Help kids. Listen to Tame Impala or Honeycut. Get a cool watch. Learn to do something entertaining. Write short stories. Build a robot (if you can). Learn to build a robot (if you want). Learn to want to build a robot.
-LS^2
A beautiful park in Saejae. I want to go back and
hike all around it, which means I gotta
grab some funky hiking garb.
Watching New York Minute at a hamburger joint.
I've never:
a) seen such masterful screenwriting, and
b) felt so much a part of this majestic culture.
What you do with your garbage.
Also, what I do with my garbage.
Zach and Kelly.
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