Livin' Like a Family of One: Didn't Even Have to Use My AK.

Woke up feelin' fine, played some solid volleyball and killed it on D in the basketball game (even nailed a poster skyhook) and now I'm havin' a celebratory chocolate milk. It's a good day. If you'd like to share in my content demeanor or simply get a swig o' this chocci moo moo, send $1 (USD) to:

Happy Dude
742 Evergreen
Springfield

*Update: I have now consumed the majority of the chocolate milk, plenty more than I needed. There are still a few drinks left, which-naturally-I'm going to finish off, potentially causing my tummy to perplode.*

I'm a week into work at Forest of Wisdom English Academy, a little over 2 weeks into Taiwan as a whole. Do I love it? Not especially, not yet. But I'll learn to get into it a little more in time. My classes thus far seem to be far better-behaved than my classes in Korea, and their proficiency is much higher as a whole. The curriculum is far more in depth and the owner holds them to a very high standard. He also teaches a full load of classes, so he's like Matthew Broderick in Glory, going into battle with his soldiers. Kudos to Donovan, man. He also had a childhood love for La Bamba, so that can only mean good things.

I got this dope ass new phone, too. I still don't know how to use it very well, and it frustrates me when I'm trying to use the fuckin' map ('cause what the hell else will I do?), but it's still pretty rad. It jiggles when I push it's buttons.

I had an interview for a job I didn't want. I've been doing that a lot lately, but I use it as job interview practice. This one was for a real big boy job. I didn't come to Taiwan to work big boy jobs, however. Not in the education sector. No sir. Fuck that. Teaching? That's for suckers and the emotionally lost. But any job interview that requires me to give and be critiqued on a juggling demo is at least worth the time it takes.

Last night, I attended a little event at a joint called The Red Room. From what I gathered, it's an apartment that also lends itself out as a performance space. Sort of a donation based open mic. So of course I signed up. I wrote a Choose Your Own Adventure book to read collaboratively with the crowd. 5-minute time limit. That means each piece has to be roughly 5 minutes or below, right? Right?! Well tell the fuckin' MCs that!!! Doris, I'll tell ya, right off the bat, acts were 7, 8, 9, 10, 10+ minutes. Four songs?! You're gonna have the audacity to take the time to do four songs in your 5-minute slot? Fuck you, you selfish rodent. If you can't already tell, I was bumped due to time constraints. I'm a fair dude, Dude, but I was miffed 2.0. Control your shit. That goes to the performers and the curators. Control. Your. Shit. I did, however, get a few tablespoons of free whiskey, so I guess that was okay. I'll get 'em next time, Tiger.

But enough about me, how are you? Hm? Are you getting enough to eat? Passing all your classes? How's tee ball going for little Dakota? Is he 9 already? Lordy lordy lord, how the time flies. You tell him he can come over any time and play on my tire swing, okay? Okay, buh bye.

I went to school with a girl named Miranda Ernst. We were in Mrs. Loving's 5th grade class together. The last week of classes, she gave me her softball schedule and invited me to a game. I had to go to Arizona on business the next day, but I held onto the schedule. When I arrived back from my Odyssey, I found that I had time to make it to one more game. However, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I did not go. I just thought of that today as I transferred subways and thought "I wonder if Miranda remembers that. I wonder if she noticed I didn't come. I wonder what she's doing now." I'll bet she's gorgeous. I suppose our dark overlord Facebook could put the kibosh on any mystery here, huh? I also loved Jenny Welcher, but she got too dark for my taste (emotionally, not pigmentally).

I love you, Miranda Ernst,
-LS^2