tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-389088722024-03-13T20:51:36.691-07:00Adventures de AnicaAs I keep running about and doing odd things, here is the blog to keep you informed. Should I actually update it. And should you bother to read it, of course.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.comBlogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-84653737163385854272016-06-06T14:30:00.000-07:002016-06-06T15:07:20.028-07:00Bye Bye Thyroid: One Year LaterI know, I know. You patiently wait for a blog post (or at least my dad does. Hi Dad!), and I finally post something and it's not even about an awesome oversea adventure. I will write one about my first year of grad school in the next week, but today we detour into non-adventure land. Well...not fun adventure land.<br />
<br />
One year ago today, I got my thyroid removed.<br />
<br />
It was my first major surgery, my first night in the hospital, and my first removal of an organ. So the anniversary is worth noting. Also, when I knew I was having surgery I wanted to see what the scars were like, and all I came across were horrible, horrible pictures. Like this <a href="https://theglutenfreeblogger.com/thyroid-surgery/" target="_blank">poor woman</a>:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="https://theglutenfreeblogger.com/thyroid-surgery/" target="_blank"><img alt="" border="0" height="150" src="https://glutenfreemee.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/img00405-20101215-1535.jpg" title="https://theglutenfreeblogger.com/thyroid-surgery/" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Googling your upcoming surgery is like going to <br />
WebMD for medical advice. It will be horrible. <br />
And you've probably got cancer.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So, I figure I'd post mine for friends and family that might be interested, as well as poor scared people who might stumble upon these and be reassured that not all the scars are that big.<br />
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Plus, it's my blog and I do what I want. ;)<br />
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Roll the picture montage! (Also, this is officially the most selfies I've ever taken in my life.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XLePpGt3W8M/V1XpnNRn2CI/AAAAAAAAAhY/Pu8vCxhM0dAL5noGZEIJIDqDyDjy0fN7wCLcB/s1600/-1%2BDay.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="492" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XLePpGt3W8M/V1XpnNRn2CI/AAAAAAAAAhY/Pu8vCxhM0dAL5noGZEIJIDqDyDjy0fN7wCLcB/s640/-1%2BDay.gif" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's a face that says, "I'm scared shitless about surgery tomorrow. Let's take last pictures before I look like I had a botched decapitation." </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0EImG4tG-vE/V1Xp9G2eWPI/AAAAAAAAAiE/j8uRerb2wQk6CB9xXNaTIst6NjxvGjfuQCLcB/s1600/Surgery.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0EImG4tG-vE/V1Xp9G2eWPI/AAAAAAAAAiE/j8uRerb2wQk6CB9xXNaTIst6NjxvGjfuQCLcB/s640/Surgery.gif" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And that's a face that says, "Getting a tumor peeled off your trachea is not my idea of a good time."<br />
Having friends come over and play Pandemic with you in the hospital, on the other hand, is a good time.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fmwUcAGC1X8/V1Xpl62e8wI/AAAAAAAAAhM/civlCOYEQFIFoueVGS9mwYL9Pubuaxt_wCLcB/s1600/1%2B%2BDay.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fmwUcAGC1X8/V1Xpl62e8wI/AAAAAAAAAhM/civlCOYEQFIFoueVGS9mwYL9Pubuaxt_wCLcB/s640/1%2B%2BDay.gif" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm still drugged enough I can muster a semi-smile for this picture before I go sleep another 18 hours.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l-2CgbJ2qBE/V1Xp6uw_OqI/AAAAAAAAAh4/ev2DxgV6dWEleZZRhSoXyTE_Y3IroLdWgCLcB/s1600/4%2B%2BDays.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l-2CgbJ2qBE/V1Xp6uw_OqI/AAAAAAAAAh4/ev2DxgV6dWEleZZRhSoXyTE_Y3IroLdWgCLcB/s640/4%2B%2BDays.gif" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "Jesus, what the hell is wrong with your neck?!?" Stage. This would be why I wasn't allowed to lay back beyond a 45<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">° angle for 2 weeks. That large lump o' swelling actually strangled me when I laid down. Fun times, fun times!</span><br />
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<br />
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OE1wobI0pDU/V1XpxGGNvfI/AAAAAAAAAhg/g2_WABSzYuMtVarJnpjjICljoPUVprtDACLcB/s1600/1%2B%2BWeek.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OE1wobI0pDU/V1XpxGGNvfI/AAAAAAAAAhg/g2_WABSzYuMtVarJnpjjICljoPUVprtDACLcB/s640/1%2B%2BWeek.gif" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "Not being able to leave my apartment when I don't have cable is lame" Stage. Also, some random bleeding.</td></tr>
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<br />
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hZSI-uhO8So/V1Xp0hS3pSI/AAAAAAAAAhw/0P0y4XUY_bEO0ktLiRWTko7bfg8bcr4RwCLcB/s1600/11%2B%2BDays.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hZSI-uhO8So/V1Xp0hS3pSI/AAAAAAAAAhw/0P0y4XUY_bEO0ktLiRWTko7bfg8bcr4RwCLcB/s640/11%2B%2BDays.gif" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Was still having dizziness problems, but otherwise out and about and back at work. Still got some funny stares.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lE-sWDT0g2E/V1Xp6nvyyOI/AAAAAAAAAh8/NW-TD2pc-k0NJHI-ShxqMing7vABQICdACLcB/s1600/2%2B%2BWeeks.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lE-sWDT0g2E/V1Xp6nvyyOI/AAAAAAAAAh8/NW-TD2pc-k0NJHI-ShxqMing7vABQICdACLcB/s640/2%2B%2BWeeks.gif" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at that cheeky grin! After patiently waiting for the bandage to decide to fall off like a good Anica, I was happy to see my scar. Looks like the more expensive surgeon was worth it. ;)</td></tr>
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<br />
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BmTEZKT4MsI/V1XpnJfVXjI/AAAAAAAAAhU/z9gntNdBovYNwCdZ89cwIcaOKc5OrhsAQCLcB/s1600/1%2B%2BMonth.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BmTEZKT4MsI/V1XpnJfVXjI/AAAAAAAAAhU/z9gntNdBovYNwCdZ89cwIcaOKc5OrhsAQCLcB/s640/1%2B%2BMonth.gif" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Swelling's almost gone (kinda), and the scar is looking good. Why do I look so miserable then? This is two weeks without any thyroid pills and one week into my low-iodine diet...aka Hell. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TdFGQ4W3hLM/V1XpxV-KfKI/AAAAAAAAAho/WfZZHalRsRQyKqCbyk_7EeHNFe-klCbwgCLcB/s1600/1%2B%2BYear.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="494" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TdFGQ4W3hLM/V1XpxV-KfKI/AAAAAAAAAho/WfZZHalRsRQyKqCbyk_7EeHNFe-klCbwgCLcB/s640/1%2B%2BYear.gif" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me today! Notice the slight change in wardrobe between Vegas June and Sweden June. :)<br />
I usually think my scar is pretty obvious, but looking at the pictures, I think you can barely tell it's even there.</td></tr>
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So, there you have it.<br />
<br />
One thing I noticed: I've aged a LOT in the last year. I thought I had, but actually sitting here and looking through the pictures (including the less complimentary ones you aren't seeing)...it's kind of depressing. I shouldn't be surprised - there was the cancer thing, with surgery and radiation, and then the moving to a foreign country just two weeks after, starting grad school, and the whole not having a normal thyroid level until just two months ago. Nothing stressful really that would age a person. ;)<br />
<br />
At least I've always looked really young for my age, so I think I'm still under the 34 I'm supposed to be. My advice? Don't get cancer. It's just all sorts of a pain in the ass.<br />
<br />
Alright, next post will include pictures of foreign lands, I promise. :)<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-47061693226294828222016-02-24T14:22:00.002-08:002016-03-12T09:37:27.385-08:00It’s an Anica-thing<div class="MsoNormal">
In my six months in Sweden, I’ve noticed there’s two things
I say rather frequently here, whether I’m talking to Swedes or other
international students: <o:p></o:p></div>
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1. “Well, it depends on the state…” when replying to some
question about how something works in the US </div>
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(Most recent usage: Talking about age of
consent)<o:p></o:p></div>
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2. “That’s not an American thing, it’s an Anica-thing” when explaining
something I do that is weird</div>
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(Most recent
usage: Me <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AYVWWKwfSnM" target="_blank">cooking bacon in water</a>, which totally blew my corridor-mate’s
mind)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Today we had an unexpected free day off from school – no lectures,
no pressing projects or papers to write – just a day I could do whatever. As
much as I am a nerd and love school, I do miss being able to just enjoy evenings
and weekends without having to do any kind of work. (Or if I couldn’t, at least
being paid, typically 1.5 times more, to have to do so. Much better than this homework racket.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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So what did I do, as a college student with a surprise day
of freedom? I spent the entire day in the kitchen cooking things from scratch,
of course! (It’s not really an American thing, it’s just an Anica-thing.) ;)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Does this have anything to do with Sweden? Nope, outside of
that’s my location at the moment. I just love to cook and <s>this seemed a good
excuse to sneak in a picture of the beautiful lasagna I made</s> I figured I’d share some pictures of just a normal day off here,
lest you think I’m just sitting in Sweden all sad and depressed after my last
post. </div>
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Not the best pictures, since I wasn't planing on doing this and took them with my phone, but I'm just a food porn amateur. ;)</div>
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I actually started off cooking a bit on Monday, which was a day I needed to work on a presentation and read some papers, but didn't have any scheduled at school time, so I was free to cook too.</div>
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I made some marinara sauce, the recipe of which is one of the only good things from being on that low-iodine diet hell over the summer. It's just tomatoes, onions, garlic, fresh basil, salt, pepper, thyme, and oregano, pureed as much as humanly possible and simmered for 2+ hours to make it less itchy. (Mild tomato allergy - less cooked and chunks gives me a rash.)</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kZKHWhAiIXI/Vs4aWtSj2_I/AAAAAAAAAgA/dLMr5HTBMtQ/s1600/IMG_20160222_202932958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kZKHWhAiIXI/Vs4aWtSj2_I/AAAAAAAAAgA/dLMr5HTBMtQ/s320/IMG_20160222_202932958.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: start;">The internet tells me that the air added in the pureeing <br />is why my sauce is always orange instead of red. <br />At least you can tell it's homemade then, right?</span><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;"><br /></span></td></tr>
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<div>
That batch gave me eleven 1<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">½ </span>cup servings, which is the perfect to make dinner and have leftovers for lunch.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Today though, I started off making some breakfast burritos. This is my third time making these, and they are amazing. I do a big batch and freeze them, and then have a delicious and nutritious breakfast that microwaves in 3 minutes. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hiGpfI09bk0/Vs4aWXYTZ7I/AAAAAAAAAgE/GlbsGnFAHHo/s1600/IMG_20160224_162025459.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hiGpfI09bk0/Vs4aWXYTZ7I/AAAAAAAAAgE/GlbsGnFAHHo/s320/IMG_20160224_162025459.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oven roasted potatoes, eggs, bacon pieces, onion, <br />
bell pepper, and a little cheese = deliciousness</td></tr>
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As I've never been much of a morning person to begin with, and now I have to take my thyroid pill on an empty stomach and wait an hour to eat, breakfast was becoming a major problem before this. 97% of the time I end up eating one while walking to the bus stop.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-klT6rgnJP_w/Vs4aZmvGbxI/AAAAAAAAAgI/mTEacuuoLyg/s1600/IMG_20160224_162815308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-klT6rgnJP_w/Vs4aZmvGbxI/AAAAAAAAAgI/mTEacuuoLyg/s320/IMG_20160224_162815308.jpg" width="319" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">My beauts ready for the freezer. Freeze on a cookie sheet first, <br />then when frozen you can dump in a giant ziploc without having <br />to worry that they'll freeze together.</span></td></tr>
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After those went in the freezer, I also made some Italian sausage (not pictured), then took a lunch break and made a bacon cheeseburger with some of the bacon left over from the burritos. :)</div>
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Then the pièce de résistance: lasagna.</div>
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This was my first time making a real lasagna, and it is quite an undertaking, but the goal was to be able to have a bunch in the freezer for those I'm-too-tired/lazy-to-cook days. (I walk past a kebob place, McDonald's, and grocery store on my way home from the bus stop, and honestly most of the time I cave is because it's been a long day and I don't have anything easy to eat at home.) </div>
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They do have TV dinners and frozen pizza here, but that's not much healthier. Besides, I had a piece of lasagna when I first moved here, and they make it very wrong (which one of the Swedes I live with concurred as he saw I was making it right, so there). Instead of ricotta they use a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/B%C3%A9chamel_sauce" target="_blank">béchamel sauce</a>. No.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OBmITixTmOc/Vs4adqAXiQI/AAAAAAAAAgM/dSlzzogt2BY/s1600/IMG_20160224_182247382.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OBmITixTmOc/Vs4adqAXiQI/AAAAAAAAAgM/dSlzzogt2BY/s320/IMG_20160224_182247382.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready for the oven. Also, Swedish lasagna noodles don't have ridges. <br />
It makes it easier to layer in the pan, but I kind of miss the <br />
festiveness of the wavy sides.</td></tr>
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I went all out for my first foray into lasagna: homemade marinara sauce with homemade Italian sausage, spinach, ricotta, parmesan, fresh basil, and fresh mozzarella I grated myself. And yes, I enjoyed myself immensely, especially when it came out of the oven...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ckeetugExjo/Vs4af598slI/AAAAAAAAAgU/facj5ZlMMnw/s1600/IMG_20160224_195955700_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ckeetugExjo/Vs4af598slI/AAAAAAAAAgU/facj5ZlMMnw/s320/IMG_20160224_195955700_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isn't she pretty?!?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ta3b6xPi2_A/Vs4akVb28fI/AAAAAAAAAgc/gXmhe0hYgGY/s1600/IMG_20160224_200229877_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ta3b6xPi2_A/Vs4akVb28fI/AAAAAAAAAgc/gXmhe0hYgGY/s320/IMG_20160224_200229877_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't worry, not quitting my day job to become a food stylist.</td></tr>
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Verdict: Thumbs up. Next time more sauce, and I'll mix the spinach in with the ricotta instead of a separate layer like the recipe called for. It should also let me get more spinach in there without really affecting the taste. It's still pretty good though, and earned the approval of the meat-eating population of my corridor.</div>
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After dinner tonight and lunch tomorrow, I've got 13 little healthy instant meals in my freezer. Funny thing is this sounds like a diet tips blog post - <i>Just prep ahead and easily eat easy all week!</i> - but it did take up pretty much the whole day and would not interest most people. Me, on the other hand? I had a ball. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A7soa_BKkV4/Vs4adgyq24I/AAAAAAAAAgQ/ooL2Py8e-ew/s1600/IMG_20160224_195022623_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A7soa_BKkV4/Vs4adgyq24I/AAAAAAAAAgQ/ooL2Py8e-ew/s400/IMG_20160224_195022623_HDR.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In case you don't believe that spending 8 hours in <br />
a kitchen makes me happy. That's a proud, <br />
dorky lasagna mama right there.</td></tr>
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I may have missed my calling at being a housewife on a homestead.</div>
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Hmm.</div>
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The day ended with a special surprise from the grocery store that completed the evening. </div>
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When I was a kid, there was this commercial for this fancy ice cream thing that I longed to try, but we never did. (It was probably too expensive.) For years, I've dreamed of this dessert: </div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/9iX511rplJY/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9iX511rplJY?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe><br />
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LOOK WHAT SWEDEN HAS.</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rrr0warIjNU/Vs4akRJWE6I/AAAAAAAAAgk/HsuOwybe9Mg/s1600/IMG_20160224_240337942.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rrr0warIjNU/Vs4akRJWE6I/AAAAAAAAAgk/HsuOwybe9Mg/s320/IMG_20160224_240337942.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sV8H8I76g9I/Vs4ajUSQj-I/AAAAAAAAAgk/QIgQ_GiEWSE/s1600/IMG_20160224_203621668.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sV8H8I76g9I/Vs4ajUSQj-I/AAAAAAAAAgk/QIgQ_GiEWSE/s320/IMG_20160224_203621668.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I didn't have the Fancy Feast glass goblets to eat it out of, but otherwise it did not disappoint. Kind of like a lasagna made with ice cream and thin chocolate layers. It's like part of my childhood is now complete. </div>
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So there you have it, my random day off, from your weirdo friend. (See, life in a foreign land isn't all walking on cobblestone streets past 1,000 year old buildings and stuff. Sometimes you stay inside, after all.) </div>
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:)</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-41374235048300492822016-02-18T14:07:00.001-08:002016-02-24T14:26:41.728-08:00You can’t go home again<div class="MsoNormal">
They always say you can’t go home again, that what you hold
as memories and nostalgia for your past places of being is something that can
never be returned to. It will only ever live in your memory, will never be a
manifestation of reality again. You can try to go back, but you will just end
up disappointed in the long run, because that home you yearn for no longer
exists.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s a depressing thought, but one I’ve experienced before,
with summer camp. It was the happiest times of my childhood, but no matter how
much I miss camp, what it was for me is something that will never again be. I’ve
revisited my old camp and felt wronged by the changes they made, felt saddened
that the girls going there today were never going to know the experience I had.
I’m sure the counselors that left the camp when I was young had the same
feelings though. I spent twelve summers at a place that will be entering its 67<sup>th
</sup>summer this year; the fact I have emotional investment is almost as guaranteed
as the fact things will not be the same. That’s another thing they say though,
right? The only constant is change.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been quite sad the last twenty-four hours, and it
seemed to come from nowhere. I’ve spent all of today at home, in my pajamas. I
slept over twelve hours, skipped Swedish class, and didn’t work on a paper that’s
due sooner than I want to think about. I’ve cried at least four times today,
one of which I kept asking myself, “What’s wrong with me?” It’s as if I was thrown
heavily into deep PMS (only I’m on medication to prevent such atrocities), and
it’s taken me all day to figure out what is wrong:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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I’m homesick.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The worst part though, is I’m homesick for a home I can’t
return to.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s multi-faceted, really. Part of me is homesick for my
life in Vegas, your standard variety homesickness. Not for the city per se, because
you know I have a love/hate relationship with my hometown, but for the comfort.
I miss being able to buy ice cream at 2am or know where to get great Chinese
food. I miss knowing what hikes I could go on to get away from it all to
rejuvenate my soul. I miss driving away stress with the windows down, singing
at the top of my lungs on a large stretch of deserted highway. I miss knowing a
town so well.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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More so I miss the friends I had there. With yet another
friend getting an amazing job out of state (congrats Amanda, well deserved), it
means there’s one less reason for me to ever go back. When I think of the friends
I miss the most, the ones I keep in contact with regularly and would want to
visit…there’s soon only going to be maybe three left in Vegas. Lots of old
friends, coworkers, and places to see, but my base of closest friends now
requires a cross-country road trip. Having those friends in one place is a home
that doesn’t exist anymore, and won’t ever again. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Another thing not waiting for me in Vegas is my mom. Even
though I’m going on 3½ years since she passed, there are still a lot of times
when I really wish I could talk to her. When I was in Korea, especially towards
the end when I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of my job and back home, we
talked 2-3 hours several nights a week. Her practically nocturnal sleep
schedule worked perfect for me living abroad, and I think I severely
underestimated how important being able to call a friendly voice from back home
is. With the 9-hour time difference, I’m stuck with weekend evenings for anyone
not local. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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As I’m making summer plans to go volunteer on organic farms,
I think of how my mom and I talked about having a small farm someday. A cabin
in the middle of the woods, with a cow named Bessie and two pigs named Bacon
and Pork Chop. (I didn’t say we weren’t twisted individuals…) With her
disability payments and Section 8 it was something that we might have been able
to financially pull off. Now it’s just another dream that will never be realized. I
guess you can also be homesick for a home that never was as much as one that
has disappeared.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ll never be able to go back home to my mom, and that
hurts. I used to call her when I was upset, and now writing has sprung up as a
mediocre substitute. It’s a way for me to get it out to make me feel better
though, so it’s become a habit. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know this is probably not what you want to read about. I
only end up posting these, when I do, because sometimes I think you should know
where my mind is. Fun adventures with amazing pictures that make you jealous I’m
here and you’re stuck back home seem to be the norm. This certainly wasn’t what
I was expecting to post on my 6 month anniversary of being in Sweden.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s life though, and my lack of posting is not all negative; as living here
has become normalcy instead of a novelty, there’s less to share and less
pictures to take. Contrary to what this break in several months of silence
might suggest, I’ve been really quite happy the last few weeks.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But an adventurous life overseas is still a life. There’s
ups, downs, happy accidents, disappointment, joy, the whole host of human
experiences. They just come with a Swedish accent now. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ll post pictures again – there’s the visit to Iceland
before I got here, events during orientation week, and Christmas in Prague to
share, and spring break is just around the corner. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Today though, I really miss all of you, and I just wanted
you to know. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-53655811835806646522015-11-01T13:52:00.000-08:002015-11-01T13:57:23.506-08:00Fall in LundAccording to the international student newsletter I get, today is considered the first day of winter and the traditional start of ski season up north. (I would say I agree, given the temperatures. Brr.) Before fall is officially over here in the southern part of Sweden, I thought I'd share with you what the season looks like here.<br />
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This is only my second time living in a deciduous forest, and when I worked in Vermont my job ended just before leaf-peeping season, so this is my first fall among leaves changing colors. I have to admit, I do like it - since traditional seasons have always been something characters experience in books but not what (my) real life was like, I feel like I'm living in my favorite novels from growing up. :) (I might even have my first white Christmas!)</div>
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Best part? You know all those nice, old buildings with the ivy crawling up them? Those change color too! :) </div>
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I don't seem to be the best at taking fall color pictures, since I think everything looked prettier in person, but this will give you an idea. Enjoy!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xVzPWXFpZkk/VjZ_qHFkl2I/AAAAAAAAAc4/Lv0jW0YxG6A/s1600/1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xVzPWXFpZkk/VjZ_qHFkl2I/AAAAAAAAAc4/Lv0jW0YxG6A/s640/1.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Yes, that building on the left looks like a castle. Just another day in Sweden, ho hum.)</td></tr>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0YRfZjuT7ho/VjZ_vSaDwfI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/N1mPz5_gazQ/s1600/1b.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0YRfZjuT7ho/VjZ_vSaDwfI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/N1mPz5_gazQ/s640/1b.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1iR7WveqeTA/VjZ_07eR5tI/AAAAAAAAAdo/xdLvHSdN3tA/s1600/2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1iR7WveqeTA/VjZ_07eR5tI/AAAAAAAAAdo/xdLvHSdN3tA/s640/2.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oNlcS2QY5AY/VjZ_1zATYfI/AAAAAAAAAdw/tmF07I31iaU/s1600/2b.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oNlcS2QY5AY/VjZ_1zATYfI/AAAAAAAAAdw/tmF07I31iaU/s640/2b.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qw1svvBXd0I/VjZ_3L4NYAI/AAAAAAAAAd0/NI2PtA3_7Ag/s1600/3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qw1svvBXd0I/VjZ_3L4NYAI/AAAAAAAAAd0/NI2PtA3_7Ag/s640/3.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the entrance to the Ecology building, where my classes are.</td></tr>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DizmhS8bFzk/VjZ_58e130I/AAAAAAAAAeA/waNZck1xUC8/s1600/3b.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DizmhS8bFzk/VjZ_58e130I/AAAAAAAAAeA/waNZck1xUC8/s640/3b.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q-kW0HzYIKc/VjZ_8vnR6cI/AAAAAAAAAeU/6pJ_44vBsKA/s1600/4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q-kW0HzYIKc/VjZ_8vnR6cI/AAAAAAAAAeU/6pJ_44vBsKA/s640/4.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f-HSsqI39P4/VjZ_8LsEX-I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/m6JtPjLWRjo/s1600/4b.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f-HSsqI39P4/VjZ_8LsEX-I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/m6JtPjLWRjo/s640/4b.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't know why, I just really liked this gate and the little tree.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qj7gdSWBROI/VjZ_7W1rr9I/AAAAAAAAAeI/gTMW0zzuw5I/s1600/4c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="522" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qj7gdSWBROI/VjZ_7W1rr9I/AAAAAAAAAeI/gTMW0zzuw5I/s640/4c.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This one was the most disappointing picture. The leaves were golden yellow and there </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">were these bright red, contrasting berries that made it look really cool. Oh well. :)</span></td></tr>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yGaYDwJ4N5A/VjZ__y1uptI/AAAAAAAAAeg/n2qkHrpZf18/s1600/5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yGaYDwJ4N5A/VjZ__y1uptI/AAAAAAAAAeg/n2qkHrpZf18/s640/5.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5duwI5kCIu8/VjaAB6I-iII/AAAAAAAAAeo/gmyPduVG84U/s1600/6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5duwI5kCIu8/VjaAB6I-iII/AAAAAAAAAeo/gmyPduVG84U/s640/6.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8Ibn6hRdhPg/VjaACRPVVGI/AAAAAAAAAes/9wT7Wu5mq6M/s1600/7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8Ibn6hRdhPg/VjaACRPVVGI/AAAAAAAAAes/9wT7Wu5mq6M/s640/7.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_pEF4VEhe2w/VjaAEWZKzPI/AAAAAAAAAe4/LmK0ypfrZRg/s1600/8.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_pEF4VEhe2w/VjaAEWZKzPI/AAAAAAAAAe4/LmK0ypfrZRg/s640/8.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">These were my favorite, and I walked by them every day to get to class. The picture is a little better this time, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">but they're these amazing different shades of red that almost seemed to glow. Not sure what this plant is, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">but I want it in my yard when I finally get a house just so I get to see it in the fall.</span></td></tr>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6oJKNUVlhEs/VjaAFiq0yNI/AAAAAAAAAfA/vSH1n53G-X4/s1600/9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6oJKNUVlhEs/VjaAFiq0yNI/AAAAAAAAAfA/vSH1n53G-X4/s640/9.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--KqP_MI-3ns/VjZ_qQZahrI/AAAAAAAAAc8/wMueqoC1yuA/s1600/10a.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--KqP_MI-3ns/VjZ_qQZahrI/AAAAAAAAAc8/wMueqoC1yuA/s640/10a.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The main school library, which is awesome enough in the summer.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dlk9tHNHTVg/VjZ_qqukqXI/AAAAAAAAAdA/Jqj7ZBjdyoo/s1600/10b.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dlk9tHNHTVg/VjZ_qqukqXI/AAAAAAAAAdA/Jqj7ZBjdyoo/s640/10b.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But look at how pretty it gets in the fall!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2tVpWPQTgzs/VjZ_wYEuLtI/AAAAAAAAAdY/u9TNbkynsSU/s1600/11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2tVpWPQTgzs/VjZ_wYEuLtI/AAAAAAAAAdY/u9TNbkynsSU/s640/11.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Different angle, summer shot</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-psslExtSiVs/VjZ_wTt3xAI/AAAAAAAAAdc/oqAeY8bo_oA/s1600/11b.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-psslExtSiVs/VjZ_wTt3xAI/AAAAAAAAAdc/oqAeY8bo_oA/s640/11b.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two weeks after the other fall shot. The ones that turned red first have fallen off (near the top), but now there's oranges in the mix too.</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-7170074526921260552015-10-12T10:15:00.000-07:002015-10-13T09:58:39.825-07:00A Tour of My DormAlright...so obviously I'm still not good at this blogging on a regular basis thing. On the plus side I've been doing all my homework and getting good grades in school? :)<br />
<br />
I've gotten your (not so) subtle hints that you want to hear/see more, so I'm going to try to make a concentrated effort to post at least once every two weeks. I don't know if I'll have enough interesting things to keep up that schedule; there was a massive amount of blog-worthy moments the first week or two, but now it's just becoming normal life. (That's right, the cobblestone streets and century old buildings barely earn my notice now. Such a terrible life I live.) I'll slowly go through and post pictures and details of some of the early stuff though, so I should have blog fodder for a while at least.<br />
<br />
Anyway, enough apologizing - onto talking about my living quarters ala Sweden. :)<br />
<br />
I chose to live in a dorm, or corridor as they call it here. Unlike the US, you don't have a roommate, which is a vast improvement on the dorm situation, and the rent is pretty cheap - I pay ~$350 a month total, and that includes internet and free laundry. I thought about a studio apartment, but decided against it because then I would just be in my fully contained room and never meet my neighbors, whereas a corridor I could mingle and get some culture and all. (Plus, it was cheaper.)<br />
<br />
I opted for corridors that were a mix of Swedes and international students (why come to Sweden if you're not going to mix with the locals?), and had at least their own toilet, since I've decided that having to be decently dressed and walk down a long hallway to pee at 3am is not really something I wanted to do for two years.<br />
<br />
I got placed in Parentesen, so named because our two buildings form a parentheses around a courtyard. It's got a really great central location, and I do really like the 19 other people that live on my floor. Most of them are Swedish, so I'm getting some of that culture I wanted, regular language immersion, and have people nice enough to explain what I can and can't recycle or translate the instructions on food packages. (Googling msk will not tell you it's the Swedish abbreviation of the metric equivalent of tbsp.)<br />
<br />
That being said, there are definitely some things I really don't like about living here. First and foremost, I ended up in the party dorm...again. Which being the only non-drinker in the party dorm at 18 was fun enough; now I'm 33 and even less into the party scene. Lucky for me I have probably the quietest room location and sleep like the dead anyway, so it's really the fact that most Friday and Saturday nights I can barely access the kitchen that bugs me the most.<br />
<br />
Which would be the thing I hate the most about living here, and probably something I should have thought about more - I miss having my own kitchen. A lot. The one here was downright disgusting when I moved in, but that's at least getting better and no longer induces rage every time I cook. (Which, if you've ever witnessed the constant dish-monster in my sink at home, is hilarious and somewhat hypocritical, but there's a big difference between my mess in my own space and other people's mess in a shared space. I'll have you know the longest one of my dishes have sat here was an hour.) :p Anyway, I think it bugs me a lot because I love to do big cooking on the weekend (I made pot stickers from scratch yesterday!) and the kitchen is at its worst weekend mornings after late-night shenanigans.<br />
<br />
It's really not that bad though and I'm getting used to it. I'd say I'm happy living here 83% of the time, which is pretty good. I have been a bit of a hermit (my easy default), but I'm trying to spend more time in the common room. I think it'll be better once I start learning Swedish and can maybe understand some of the conversations. :)<br />
<br />
So, what does this place actually look like? Well, let me take you on a tour!<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/kPPn1tLWj1Y/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/kPPn1tLWj1Y?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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Here's what my view looks like without the sun glare:<br />
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<br />
That about covers it, I think. Let me know if you have any questions, and I'll post again soon(ish). :)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-53169860447606037082015-08-20T06:46:00.002-07:002015-08-20T14:35:18.842-07:00Just a Taste: Walking to and around CampusHi everyone!<br />
<br />
So I have a lot I want to share with you - the two days in Iceland, different things I've done in Sweden so far, a tour of my dorm room, etc. Hell, I even wanted to post a few recipes that worked really well during my LID thing and the tiny house I stayed in in Colorado.<br />
<br />
Problem is I'm still in the crazy busy phase, so I'm going to slowly roll out the posts over the next few weeks as I get more time...which is probably better anyway, since there's a ton of really interesting things to share right now and it's going to taper pretty quickly. (Homework assignments are probably not that fascinating for you.)<br />
<br />
So for this first post, I'm going with a quick batch of some pictures from around campus and my walk to it, to give you a little something. (It's also the quickest thing I can put together, and I know it's been a couple of days already.)<br />
<br />
I like to call these, "Look, I'm in Europe." :)<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1QkT5XFbp9w/VdXWOnKhZVI/AAAAAAAAAbg/bZKlFRRxDPM/s1600/IMG_2594.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/anicamercado/20537166330/in/album-72157657506999581/" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K9I1lACO3nk/VdXWPuUB3vI/AAAAAAAAAbc/UqF_YHewPeo/s320/IMG_2597.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/anicamercado/20537166330/in/album-72157657506999581/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">The building where we did all the stuff on Arrival Day.<br />That's right, it looks like a frickin' castle.</span></a></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/anicamercado/20537185748/in/album-72157657506999581/" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mGQM6k8nxrM/VdXWOnSYZcI/AAAAAAAAAbM/HsYWHNq3Cpw/s320/IMG_2596.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/anicamercado/20537185748/in/album-72157657506999581/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">The building we had our General Information Meeting in.</span></a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/anicamercado/20544812448/in/album-72157657506999581/" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DlppVRzB70Y/VdXWPydFeDI/AAAAAAAAAbk/aSjX3Ehztws/s320/IMG_2625.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/anicamercado/20544812448/in/album-72157657506999581/" target="_blank">The LUCSUS building, where my classes will be.</a></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/anicamercado/20725160675/in/album-72157657506999581/" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1QkT5XFbp9w/VdXWOnKhZVI/AAAAAAAAAbg/bZKlFRRxDPM/s320/IMG_2594.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/anicamercado/20725160675/in/album-72157657506999581/" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">Fountain in front of the above building. In case covered in ivy <br />wasn't enough pizzazz and old-world charm for you.</span></a></td></tr>
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That's just a few of them; you can look at the entire album <b><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/anicamercado/albums/72157657506999581" target="_blank">here</a> </b>if you're so inclined. :)</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-33302636058660688272015-07-02T22:51:00.001-07:002015-07-02T23:48:13.572-07:00LID Day 1: Anica starves to deathYesterday was my self-inflicted Day 1, but I was too weak at the end of the day to tell you of it.<br />
<br />
Why self-inflicted? I'm waiting on insurance and assistance to go through, and usually they schedule stuff out after that's situated. However, since I'm only in Vegas another five weeks, and the process from starting this diet to getting treatment results from the doctor are about a month, I am running out of time. So, I started yesterday, so that when they do get everything squared away, I'll be ready to go without delay.<br />
<br />
So, Day 1 was...painful.<br />
<br />
<b>Day 1 Plan:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>Breakfast: Egg white and veggie omelet</li>
<li>Lunch: Salad with homemade Italian dressing</li>
<li>Dinner: Chicken stir-fry</li>
<li>Snacks: Fruits and nuts</li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>Day 1 Actual:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>Breakfast: Egg white, bell pepper, onion, and potato scramble</li>
<li>Snack: Apple</li>
<li>Lunch: More egg white, bell pepper, onion, and potato scramble</li>
<li>Snack: Pecans</li>
<li>Dinner: Chicken "fajitas"</li>
<li>Snack: Bite of a biscuit</li>
</ul>
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<br /></div>
<div>
<b>What happened:</b></div>
<div>
<br />
Well, I was definitely not quite prepared, and the snafus in the system certainly didn't help.<br />
<br />
Lunch plans got derailed because the last time I bought some key spices I bought the ones in little tin cans (they were on sale). I'm not supposed to eat anything canned, since the linings contain iodine, and wasn't sure if the tin cans did or not, so using them was out. Since this would have turned my salad dressing into just olive oil and white vinegar, I had to nix the lunch salad.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I5odHl6n4tY/VZYrvavdvrI/AAAAAAAAAaE/Dias1VfJoVc/s1600/IMG_2186.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I5odHl6n4tY/VZYrvavdvrI/AAAAAAAAAaE/Dias1VfJoVc/s200/IMG_2186.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Would you want this to be 2/3 of your meals <br />
for the day? Yeah, I didn't either. </td></tr>
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Breakfast wasn't bad, though it would have been better if I crisped the potatoes up a bit more. It wasn't, however, good enough to eat for two meals of the day, so I only ate half of what I should have for lunch.<br />
<br />
By the afternoon, while I was chomping on my pecans, I felt pretty crappy. It's hard to judge how much is from not being on my thyroid meds for a week, and how much was from being under 1,000 calories for the day at 5pm, but neither are exactly conducive to dancing a happy jig.<br />
<br />
I was out of food at that point, unfortunately, until I got home to make dinner. Downside to this diet is I have no outside the home options, with the exception of a piece of produce from the grocery store. Any other kind of diet attempt and I would have broken down and eaten a myriad of things after work and just restarted the next day, especially since I was running on empty and that's not healthy. However, turns out wanting to do everything to kill all your residual cancer cells is much more motivating than trying to look better for swimsuit season. Willpower prevailed.<br />
<br />
Made it home and cooked dinner, which was pretty good. The "fajitas" were boneless, skinless chicken thighs, bell peppers, and onions, eaten out of a bowl. I had forgotten to buy a lemon and it turned out my chili powder had salt in it, so the marinade was missing a couple ingredients, but overall it was good. I mashed avocado into it as a lazy guacamole and for some added calories, but it just made me think how much better it would be with sour cream. I made double, so I have something for lunch tomorrow, though it'll mean a meatless dinner since I put all of my meat allotment for a day in each serving. (6 ounces is not that much.)<br />
<br />
I wanted to make bread, for more food options for the next day, but it takes too long for a weeknight, so I tried biscuits. Took a sample bite when they came out of the oven, and they are surprisingly good for not having any butter or milk in the recipe. Add some honey and it should be great as a snack tomorrow.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Plans for tomorrow:</b><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Go to Whole Foods and get fresh ground peanut butter (forgot when I was buying the chicken)</li>
<li>Find and make some kind of granola bar as an emergency ration for the afternoon</li>
<li>Find more recipes/options for meals</li>
</ul>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>Problems on the horizon:</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Getting enough calories in a day. Contrary to people's assumptions due to my size, on days when I don't eat out, I most likely am not eating enough calories. Last time I sat down and calculated I was only getting ~1600 day, which for my size is rather low. Now that we've more or less cut out meat and all dairy products, most of what I'm eating is pretty low on the calorie scale. I'm going to have to get creative to probably hit that 1600, let alone an amount I should be eating.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I made it though - Day 1 down! :)</div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-71753327310941254582015-07-01T22:24:00.001-07:002015-07-04T19:36:51.754-07:00Low-iodine Diet: The BasicsAs part of my cancer treatment, I'm getting radioactive iodine. Basically they take out all they can when they do surgery, and while my surgeon got it all out, since it had spread to two lymph nodes and my tumor was "stuck to my trachea," I need the radioactive iodine to kill off any pesky cancer cells left behind.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It's not bad, from what I've read; take a pill, be in quarantine for three days while you're radioactive, body scan 7-10 days after, and you're good. Possible side effects most people seem to complain of is nausea and things not tasting right for up to six months. (One man said everything tasted soapy. Let's not do that one.)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In order for it to be as effective as possible, you must be on a low-iodine diet for two weeks ahead of time. Since your thyroid cells absorb iodine, if you starve them of it for two weeks, they will suck up that delicious radioactive version like a cult's death kool-aid and cease to exist.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
So, you ask, what has iodine in it? The short answer: <a href="https://www.mskcc.org/sites/default/files/node/20605/document/low-iodine-diet-2014.pdf" target="_blank">EVERYTHING</a>.</div>
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<div>
It's actually shorter to write what I can eat, versus what I can't. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
I <i><b>can</b></i> eat:</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Fresh vegetables, frozen ones if there's no added salt...Minus spinach, cruciferous vegetables, celery, potato skins, soybeans (and everything made from them), and most regular beans that I luckily hate anyway</li>
<li>Fresh fruit...Minus cranberries, strawberries, rhubarb, and dried fruit</li>
<li>Fresh meat from the butcher case with no processing (outside of grinding) and no additives (Hello Whole Foods)...Minus all seafood and organ meats and only 6 oz a day :(</li>
<li>Egg whites</li>
<li>Unsalted nuts and nut butters</li>
<li>Grains and cereals that are unsalted, unprocessed, and additive and preservative free</li>
<li>Bread, if I make it myself with no bad ingredients (like milk, eggs, etc)</li>
<li>Oil</li>
<li>White vinegar</li>
<li>Natural sweeteners, like honey and maple syrup, up to 2 servings a day...Minus molasses</li>
<li>Spices...Minus any with salt in them or in their title</li>
<li>Herbs!</li>
<li>Small amounts of non-iodized, non-sea salt</li>
<li>An assortment of beverages I don't drink anyway. (That's right, I can't eat 2 of 3 ingredients for ants on a log, but I can drink Sprite and coffee. Not right I tell you.)</li>
</ul>
<div>
It actually looks like a lot of variety when you put it that way. A lesson on trying to see that glass as half-full, perhaps?</div>
</div>
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<div>
Today was my self-inflicted Day 1, which I will delve into tomorrow! :)</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-31210476465594745002015-06-30T21:46:00.000-07:002015-07-02T23:48:54.914-07:00Hello?What have we here? Six years, and I'm finally posting again!<br />
<br />
I don't think anyone checks this but my dad (Hi Daddy-o!), but since I will be moving to Sweden, and this seems to be the place where I post of my international adventures, I thought I'd dust it off.<br />
<br />
This time around I make no promises to post regularly, since we know that doesn't happen no matter what I say. (Maybe it'll be better with the pressure off?) I will try to write less and put more pictures, since I am a verbose individual but no one really wants to read as much ramblings as I have. I'll also try not to be a perfectionist on it, as going through several drafts and edits for a blog not only seems silly, but was a main contributor to not posting regularly.<br />
<br />
So, in the interests of keeping it short, I'm going to briefly mention things that I'll be probably posting about soon, with more detailed posts to follow at some point.<br />
<br />
As mentioned above, I'm moving to Sweden, on August 18th to be exact. I'll be earning my Master of Science in <a href="http://www.lumes.lu.se/" target="_blank">Environmental Studies and Sustainability Science</a> at <a href="http://www.lunduniversity.lu.se/" target="_blank">Lund University</a>. 'Cause why not? ;)<br />
<br />
Before that happens, I'll have a nice, shorter than I was hoping for, two day whirlwind in Iceland. I hear they have a <a href="http://phallus.is/en/" target="_blank">museum filled with nothing but penis specimens</a> from every mammal in Iceland. (Worry not, there will be pictures.)<br />
<br />
And before I can really think about all that, before the packing and whatnot, I've got to get this thyroid cancer thing wrapped up. Surgery was good and is done, next is the radioactive iodine treatment, and then I should be all clear.<br />
<br />
That's what you're going to hear about first, because it seems blog worthy. (Or maybe I just need to journal.)<br />
<br />
You can always come back in a month for the fun international travel pictures. :)<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-71387898489407566452009-01-29T18:37:00.000-08:002009-01-29T18:46:52.629-08:00Engrish!I <a href="http://anicaadventures.blogspot.com/2008/11/why-there-is-so-much-engrish.html">mentioned before </a>that I was going to eventually do a post on Engrish, and here it is.<br /><br />To refresh your memory (we'll pretend you've read everything I've ever written religiously, of course), it is rather cool here, Japan, and probably other Asian countries to have things written in English. Think of the prevelence of kanji tattoos that people have in the US - same kind of thing. However, being that a vast majority of the population can't read what it says, it tends to not make much sense. This is known as Engrish.<br /><br />(As an aside I read an article once on how a Japanese tattoo artist in the US was tattooing the wrong thing on people. On a girl's stomach he tattooed "Insert General Tso's chicken here" and on a big burly guy that wanted strength or some other macho man thing on his arm, he tattooed I like to wear women's underwear or something like that. Kind of funny, if you think about it. Internet people, internet. If you must follow this trend, find what you want it to say on several different sites, then take it to someone who knows the language and ask them what it says without telling them to make sure you've got it right. Geez.)<br /><br />So I bring you my Engrish collection thus far. Some are better than others, and they're not all strictly Engrish - I added ones of signs and stuff that I thought were just written interestingly which could be Engrish or could be cultural. Oh, and the best Engrish of all time is at the end, so keep reading. I've retyped what things say in case it's not easy to tell from the smaller pictures - all quotes are, of course, <em>exactly</em> what the original says. ;)<br /><br />First, we have a full wall sign outside a bar:<br /><br /><p align="left"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX25ed3Vv-I/AAAAAAAAAMU/LY5eFa6EfE8/s1600-h/100_1283.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295592669921525730" style="WIDTH: 202px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 177px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX25ed3Vv-I/AAAAAAAAAMU/LY5eFa6EfE8/s320/100_1283.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX25ea3NSpI/AAAAAAAAAMc/LwAXoPn7Cc8/s1600-h/100_1284.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295592669115665042" style="WIDTH: 216px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 176px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX25ea3NSpI/AAAAAAAAAMc/LwAXoPn7Cc8/s320/100_1284.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><p align="center"><em>Can one ever remember love..It's like trying to summom up the smell of rose in acellar. tou might see arose, but never the perfume.</em></p><p align="center"><em>Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but look together in the same direction.</em></p>In the alley by my apartments:<br /><p align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX25eATPpOI/AAAAAAAAAMM/hEMZe0lgQT4/s1600-h/100_1228.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295592661985502434" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX25eATPpOI/AAAAAAAAAMM/hEMZe0lgQT4/s320/100_1228.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center"><em>After Childbirth & Fatness Clinic</em></div><div align="center">I don't know if it's Engrish, or if they're just blunt like that.</div><br />On a shirt:<br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX26Pj5PqdI/AAAAAAAAANM/cwbTpwhaXnY/s1600-h/100_2086.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295593513353718226" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX26Pj5PqdI/AAAAAAAAANM/cwbTpwhaXnY/s320/100_2086.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center"><em>Celebrate Space will have opportunity talk with international</em></div><div align="center">Yes, talk with international badly though. :)</div><br />The trashcan in my bathroom:<br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX26P0oDSGI/AAAAAAAAANU/ej9rR7_pvZ8/s1600-h/100_2094.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295593517845006434" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX26P0oDSGI/AAAAAAAAANU/ej9rR7_pvZ8/s320/100_2094.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center"><em>I was so happy when I knew that friend is very valuable mean.</em></div><div align="center">Yes, and it makes me feel better everyday to throw my garbage into it.</div><br />Not really Engrish at all:<br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX26PLHhS-I/AAAAAAAAAM8/0S-CynA1ucY/s1600-h/100_2074.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295593506702707682" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX26PLHhS-I/AAAAAAAAAM8/0S-CynA1ucY/s320/100_2074.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center">The n just wore off...but I thought the fact that something said "ew heaven" funny.</div><br />A pencil sharpener/eraser combo (that refused to take a decent picture):<br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX26Pb-v7iI/AAAAAAAAANE/mLST0pBLh7M/s1600-h/100_2081.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295593511229320738" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX26Pb-v7iI/AAAAAAAAANE/mLST0pBLh7M/s320/100_2081.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center"><em>I'm a good Magicion! I Can Make Happy Everyone~!! Like That~!!</em></div><em></em><br />In my subway station:<br /><br /><p align="center"><em><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX25e-LQw-I/AAAAAAAAAMk/og4iEcVKS5k/s1600-h/100_1375.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295592678595019746" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX25e-LQw-I/AAAAAAAAAMk/og4iEcVKS5k/s320/100_1375.JPG" border="0" /></a></em></p><div align="center"><em>Warning: Steps Ahead</em></div><div align="center">Not Engrish per se, but notice the location of the sign...I think at that point I'm well aware that there are steps ahead.</div><br />On a hoodie (taken with my camera phone. Must remember to always have camera when I go shopping here):<br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX273GdB6LI/AAAAAAAAANk/gdeg0_VekAI/s1600-h/shirt.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295595292157143218" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX273GdB6LI/AAAAAAAAANk/gdeg0_VekAI/s320/shirt.bmp" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center"><em>naughty Beagle</em></div><div align="center"><em>That naughty boy will be punished because he keeps camping about to people</em></div><div align="center">Is there a beagle camping version of Mario I don't know about? Did I ever mention how copyright infringement really doesn't seem to exist here? </div><br />On a store window (also taken with my camera phone, which really doesn't help trying to read it):<br /><p align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX273Fq-7TI/AAAAAAAAANs/ltFTKOPIW6o/s1600-h/store.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295595291947232562" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX273Fq-7TI/AAAAAAAAANs/ltFTKOPIW6o/s320/store.bmp" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center"><em>BANC is producted in the early 2000. It is a fruit, which was made by the home playlists and from United states of Kingdom. and guarenteed by huge numbers of mania. and entertain cutter sense and a lovely colorful logo.</em></div><br />On the subway:<br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX26O6uHJcI/AAAAAAAAAM0/FeyRMxSretg/s1600-h/100_1433.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295593502301169090" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX26O6uHJcI/AAAAAAAAAM0/FeyRMxSretg/s320/100_1433.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center"><em>Seats for the handicapped, old, weak, pregnant woman, or accompanied with baby</em></div><div align="center">Another probably not Engrish, but I like how they say those seats are reserved for the weak. Also, notice the really deformed shape of the pregnant woman's stomach. She should get an ultrasound.</div><br />And the best Engrish of all time, on a t-shirt someone bought (I would have bought one myself):<br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX273PZAYrI/AAAAAAAAANc/Cll7gfjEv0Q/s1600-h/2009-01-01+04-07-59.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295595294556185266" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX273PZAYrI/AAAAAAAAANc/Cll7gfjEv0Q/s320/2009-01-01+04-07-59.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center"><em>call-to-arms for all chunkily-penised boys to do her right and do her good - still mattered.</em></div><div align="center">I think the pink ballet slippers really help to get that message across as well.</div><br />So that's what I have so far. Hope you have enjoyed. :)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-25968715656458270292009-01-26T02:04:00.000-08:002009-01-26T02:51:13.438-08:00Being 28 and 26 at the same time - Happy New Year!Today (Monday) is the Lunar New Year...ah, four day weekend. :)<br /><br />It's a big holiday here, and everything today is dead and probably closed. Being it is a big holiday, every teacher at my job got a nice gift from the school.<br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX2S9vay0EI/AAAAAAAAAL0/U9cyoWYAT9I/s1600-h/100_2089.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295550326256095298" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX2S9vay0EI/AAAAAAAAAL0/U9cyoWYAT9I/s320/100_2089.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX2S93c_t2I/AAAAAAAAAL8/Vuq9JF_wPPU/s1600-h/100_2090.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295550328412813154" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX2S93c_t2I/AAAAAAAAAL8/Vuq9JF_wPPU/s320/100_2090.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br />Isn't it pretty? I was excited to open it and see what was inside...<br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX2S-WuEgaI/AAAAAAAAAME/WtikbhUNIow/s1600-h/100_2091.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295550336805929378" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SX2S-WuEgaI/AAAAAAAAAME/WtikbhUNIow/s320/100_2091.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><br />...and was surprised to see four cans of tuna fish and six cans of spam. Control your jealousy!<br /><br />Did you know spam came in a blue and a black version? Perhaps it's a Korean thing. While my dad is a fond consumer of spam, in my impoverished little life I have managed to never have to eat it. Part of me thinks I should try it for the cultural experience - it's a common house warming gift here and I am curious as to what makes the black container different from the standard blue container. But...it's spam.<br /><br />I'm also a little worried about the tuna. You would think it would be normal tuna, but it makes an impressive sloshing sound when you shake it and I looked and it doesn't expire until the end of 2013. That seems a little long for tuna, or any food really. It expires after the spam even. I may end up leaving the whole thing as a welcome gift to the next person who moves into my apartment.<br /><br />Anyway, with today being New Years I figure it would be a good time to bring up Korean age. By legal standards, today I turned 28. Twenty-two days after I return to the US, I legally turn 27. Makes perfect sense, right?<br /><br />Here's how it works. In Korea, China, Vietnam, and potentially all Asian countries (I haven't looked), you are born at one year old instead of zero, like we are. Then everyone in the entire country becomes legally one year older on the New Year. This is where I think the main problem lies - you turn a year older regardless of when you were born.<br /><br />Let's take the screaming baby I live next to. (I think it must be teething or has colic, because it has been hollering non-stop for the last week). The baby was born not long after I got here, around three or four months ago. Today it turned 2. So after being alive for three months, s/he is two years old. However, a baby born today is one, and will turn two next year on the New Year. So we'll have a 1 year old that is two and a 1 year, 3 month old that is three.<br /><br />I had this in my kindergarten class. It was a class of six year olds...which really meant five year olds. One of the kids was one of the late year births though, so he was really only four. He was expected and taught at the same level as the other kids, because they are all seen as six. He, understandably, had the worst handwriting of them all, since he didn't have as much motor skills as they did.<br /><br />It's odd, and I don't quite understand why they do it, but another reason why the holiday is such a big deal.<br /><br />So today I'm 28, and in two months I'll be 27. Now there's something I wasn't planning on experiencing in my life. ;)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-17536106405952773122009-01-12T07:38:00.000-08:002009-01-12T07:44:50.014-08:00Holy frozen hair follicles, Batman!Normally I take a shower at night and sleep on my hair wet. It takes the least amount of effort, and I'm not big on wasting valuable sleep time with personal grooming in the morning.<br /><br />However, I didn't take a shower last night and so had to take one this morning. It happens. I walked to school with my wet hair, since it's a five minute walk, no big deal.<br /><br />Well, I'm right at the building and I go to tuck my hair behind my ears, and it is crunchy and feels like I put a bunch of gel and/or hairspray in it.<br /><br />My hair froze!<br /><br />I didn't think hair could freeze, but it was a toasty 19-20˚ on my way there, so it makes logical sense, but still. I tried to take a picture of it standing straight out when I lifted it at the base, but it defrosted before I could get a good one. It only took about a minute to defrost at least. :)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-26760362793040350882009-01-10T06:22:00.000-08:002009-01-10T07:17:53.955-08:00Almost being deported, Round 2One of <em>those</em> days became one of <em>those</em> weeks. I give you the aftermath: <div><br /><br /><div></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SWi5g1Cw4ZI/AAAAAAAAALk/AgfR1fVxsmU/s1600-h/100_2076.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289681735992271250" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SWi5g1Cw4ZI/AAAAAAAAALk/AgfR1fVxsmU/s200/100_2076.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SWi5hKUXuXI/AAAAAAAAALs/ZUwgzipIbJM/s1600-h/100_2077.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289681741703264626" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SWi5hKUXuXI/AAAAAAAAALs/ZUwgzipIbJM/s200/100_2077.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Ramen and chocolate. Gets me every time. Considering I told my coworkers Friday I wish I drank because I would have me a stiff drink after work, this isn't that bad. Both of those piles are from more than one sitting, so not bad at all. :)</div><div>.</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Okay, story time.</div><div></div><div></div><div>.</div><div>I told my boss Tuesday that I was planning on leaving at six months, since it seemed relevant since they could be potentially firing me and all and I figured it would be pretty bitchy to spring it on them in a month after all of this.</div><br /><div></div><div>So they said that I could maybe go home February. That's the end of the school year here and parents expect new teachers in March, so it works out better for them. They said I wouldn't have to pay back my plane ticket here, which is the only reason why I was saying March myself. I'm not complaining. </div><br /><div></div><div>Well, Thursday I get a call from Mr. Park, the hubby of the lady I worked for. He said that immigration would like to talk to him and all the foreign teachers at 10. This really confused me because he had woken me up and it was 10:15, but it turns out he meant the next day, on Friday. He asked if I would come and I said I had to ask my boss, and he just said okay. The whole thing seemed like an optional request.</div><br /><div></div><div>I told my boss about it when I got in to work and she said I didn't have to go. At the end of work she told me I did have to go and to meet her at 9 the next morning. -sigh-</div><br /><div></div><div>I hear from my American boss that night that Tina (my Korean boss) told her that not only was it not optional, but if I didn't go I would be arrested. If I went without Tina, I would be deported, as it shows the school doesn't want me anymore, so I should grovel a bit the next day. (Why are they giving her more details than me, is what I want to know.)</div><br /><div></div><div>I leave my apartment and get a call from Tina that she's having car issues and will pick me up at 9:30, so I got to kill a half hour at school. We get to immigration at 10:15 and this time got to go to the <a href="http://encarta.msn.com/dictionary_/adjudication.html">adjudication</a> unit. There's one other foreign guy in the waiting room, and so we wait. (As a side note, I would expect to see a lot more foreigners in the immigration building. I see more when I go to Itaewon, but then again there could be foreigners from other Asian countries I suppose and I wouldn't know the difference in passing. They don't quite have the beacon the rest of us do.) </div><br /><div></div><div>The guy goes back first, and it's in this cubicle so I can overhear a good amount of what is being said. He was alone, and I heard him tell them that he didn't have a job right now. He also worked for them a month or longer - I couldn't quite make out how long but much longer than me. I then hear them talking about his exit order and how he has to leave within a week. They call us back while he is getting his stuff together and the guy hands him his penalty fee, that he has to pay today before he can leave the building, of which he said he didn't have the money for. I'm not sure what's going to happen to him, but his total punishment? Deportment <strong><u>and</u></strong> a ₩2.4 million fine. (Current exchange rate has that at $1,783, but to give you an idea my original monthly salary was ₩2.1 million, and is currently ₩1.4 million. After all the bills and stuff are taken out, I get almost exactly ₩1 million a month. Which is about $750. Sadness).</div><br /><div></div><div>So then it is my turn. Tina has to fill out a statement saying that the school still wants to keep me as a teacher, which I believe is the only thing that kept them from deporting my ass. My penalty is much smaller, since I worked a whopping six hours. My fine? ₩1 million. Yup, a month pay for my ₩200,000 I earned. </div><br /><div></div><div>Same deal as the other guy - I have to pay before I can leave the building. After I do though, the whole thing is done with and it is expunged from my record. I asked my boss if I could get an advance on my paycheck, which we were getting paid the next day (or maybe Monday because it's a weekend, but close enough) since I took all my cash out of my bank account Monday in case Immigration decided to seize all my assets. She called her boss to see if they could, and then gave me an odd answer.</div><br /><div></div><div>She pointed out that I was leaving in February (of which I had to provide a letter to the school that morning saying I would be leaving then and I'm wondering if they would have hung me out to dry if I hadn't planned on leaving soon, since she asked me if I had the letter when she was writing out her statement). The penalty is a whole paycheck, and then I wouldn't really have any money left and I have to pay my flight home. Yes Tina, I know and doesn't my life suck? Then she told me that I had an option of not paying the penalty and instead choosing to be deported, in which I would only have to pay my airfare. I would not be able to leave the building and she would have to go home and pack my stuff for me, but that was an option.</div><br /><div></div><div>Which required pondering. The plane ticket is a paycheck unto itself (why are one-way flights nearly the same as a round trip???) so the difference of staying and working the extra two months would be one additional pitiful paycheck. I called my American boss and my mom (can't wait to see that phone bill this month from that). The thing that bothered me the most was that I wouldn't be able to pack my own stuff, and the fact that my money was very well hidden in my apartment...and Tina's English is not the best in the world. </div><br /><div></div><div>Obviously, I decided to stay, but there was a few moments of serious debate. It probably didn't help that I was low on sleep and then after all this still had to go teach for six hours. :)</div><br /><div></div><div>So that's it. The fine is paid, I'm not getting a paycheck, or at least nothing worth noting, this month, and Immigration and I should be over and done with. </div><br /><div></div><div>On a plus side, my mom spent her panicking hours waiting for me to get home from work and give her a call looking for plane tickets, and found me ones cheaper than I had found myself. Congratulations Mom, you have now officially become a full internet user. May I recommend <a href="http://www.cheapair.com/">CheapAir.com</a>, where I have booked a ticket home for the grand total of $409. (My best previous was over $900). That helps a lot. </div><br /><div></div><div>So I officially leave on March 1st. The really funny part? I leave at 6:45pm and get in at 9:15pm, with two layovers. Gotta love the time difference. :)</div><br /><div></div><div>Sadly, this officially means no Japan though - that was going to be a whole paycheck at least. Actually, the yen is over the dollar right now so closer to two paychecks. Which is probably a good thing because I really want to see Japan, so I'll go when I can really see it instead of a week of an uber-budget trip. I do still get to do my overnight stay at a Buddhist temple, so that's cool. Plus with not budgeting for Japan means I don't have to live like a pauper for the next month and a half...and get to buy cool souvenirs too. :)</div><br /><div></div><div>So, there is my interesting experience. I've now worked in a foreign country, been questioned by Immigration in a set-up similar to a bad cop movie, and almost been deported two times in a week. It may not have been exactly what I was expecting, but coming to work here has definitely been an experience. </div><br /><div></div><div>:)</div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-84879965529375921272009-01-06T06:19:00.001-08:002009-01-06T06:39:55.519-08:00Dogs and Deportation<div><div>Monday marked the end of my week of vacation and the return to work. Blech. It also turned into one of <em>those</em> days.</div><div></div><br /><div>Just before I left for work I got a call from my mom - her dog got hit by a car and died. She lives alone and is on disability, so it's not just a dog, it's a full on member of the family. I'll miss him, he was cute, if a little "special" at times. Bye, Chance.</div><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SWNs1Ccw_cI/AAAAAAAAALc/xAmUthLrhTA/s1600-h/100_0134.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288190045909482946" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SWNs1Ccw_cI/AAAAAAAAALc/xAmUthLrhTA/s200/100_0134.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SWNs0MuKKUI/AAAAAAAAALU/2xKhVRa6sGk/s1600-h/100_0326.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288190031486921026" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SWNs0MuKKUI/AAAAAAAAALU/2xKhVRa6sGk/s200/100_0326.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div>Then I get to work and find out I might be getting deported. Yup.</div><br /><div></div><div>Here's what happened: I went looking for additional employment, because with the decrease pay from not wanting to teach five year olds and the exchange rate dropping like mad, I'm pulling in at most $1000 a month <strong>before</strong> bills. Sucky. So I have been told that while private lessons are always illegal, you can work a second job if your first job says it is okay. </div><br /><div></div><div>I found a job online, sent my resume, and they called and set up an interview for that night. I went and they asked me to work the next day. I did for a couple of hours and then again the next day tutoring some kids in math who want to study in the States. I was supposed to work two days later, on Sunday, editing and helping a kid with college admission essays, but emailed them and told them I couldn't work for them anymore. The place felt really sketchy and didn't sit well with my instincts, as well as it took me an hour and a half to get there and the woman was a really demanding shrew.<br /><br />I get a call from the company on Sunday out of nowhere - I worked for them mid-December - and they tell me that immigration came when they weren't there and took a bunch of documents, including the one I had filled out. They told immigration I had never worked for them, just came to see it and left, and to tell them the same or I would be deported. So when I got to work the next morning and my Korean boss told me immigration called and asked me if I've ever worked for this place and I said no. I talked to my American boss soon after that and she agreed to keep denying it since the company lied to immigration and I was paid in cash and all.<br /><br />So then it turns out I had to go to immigration that day and could get deported. I went with my Korean boss, who didn't speak to me at all for the half hour drive nor for the twenty minutes we were waiting for a parking spot. Then we go in and the floor we got off on says "Investigation Unit." They lead us to this room that has a heavy metal door with a bar across it that can bolt me in, bars on the windows, and the overhead lights aren't on. (There was enough light from the windows to see, but the atmosphere was a nice set up). The translator they gave me has English about as good as my boss at best, which is not much better than my Japanese...that I studied for two years about eleven years ago. This helps the situation, of course.</div><br /><div></div><div>They ask if I recognize the picture of the lady, and they were shifting through an inch thick pile of papers off all these other foreign teacher's paperwork. Then they asked if I had taught mathematics, and I said they wanted me to but I didn't. (Technically, true). Then I'm told that if I'm lying I will face confinement (I assumed prison) and deportation, and that the lady told them I worked for them on these two days for two hours each day. So I told them that they called me on Sunday and told me to lie to them about if I had worked for them or not and then came clean. I then had to write out a statement and was told that I would not have to leave the country but would have to pay a penalty and could not leave the country until I paid it and the investigation was over. Now, this other guy talked in Korean for a good half hour and that was the extent of what I was told, so who knows what the hell is going on. I asked my boss when we got back in the car if that meant I wasn't getting deported and she said she didn't know, and then didn't talk to me again. It would have been nice for her to tell me what was going on.<br /><br />On the plus side I made my decision a week or two ago that I'm coming home early, so getting deported didn't worry me as much as it might have other people. I really hate teaching and loathe going to work everyday, and this has been a very long three months. I think I would suffer through it if I was making more, but I made more than this while a student and working part time, which is not worth staying in a job I hate. I was planning to come back at the end of March at six months, but now who knows if it'll be even sooner. </div><br /><div></div><div>It's been an interesting experience at least, right? I'll keep you guys posted.</div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-24070436258035136482009-01-02T05:19:00.000-08:002009-01-02T07:12:14.045-08:00Korean Folk VillageGreetings to anyone who's stumbled here via <a href="http://www.smartbitchestrashybooks.com/index.php">Smart Bitches, Trashy Books</a>. By far my favorite blog - glad to know I'm not the only person who loves me some trashy romance novels, and the <a href="http://www.smartbitchestrashybooks.com/index.php/category/covers_gone_wild_non_snoop_dogg_edition/P15/">cover snark</a> makes me bust a gut every time. (And I won a book this week, so bonus.)<br /><br />Anyway, today I went to the Korean Folk Village. Sorry, probably not as entertaining as Penis Park, but hey, there's not much of that around here.<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SV4maFCObtI/AAAAAAAAAKs/0xA4AOKbBC4/s1600-h/100_1930.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286705242049507026" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 152px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 124px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SV4maFCObtI/AAAAAAAAAKs/0xA4AOKbBC4/s320/100_1930.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The Folk village wasn't too far a way - six subway stops and then a free shuttle bus to the park with a paid ticket. A frickin' plush shuttle bus, I must say, as you can see to your right. (More pictures and videos over <a href="http://flickr.com/photos/anicamercado/sets/72157612057861024/detail/">on Flickr</a>).<br /><br />The village itself is set up just like an old village, with not an excessive amount of order to it - life-size replicas of houses with other replicas or demonstrations <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SV4mvHO87AI/AAAAAAAAAK0/iOEz83rE1cw/s1600-h/100_1984.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286705603417009154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 279px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 202px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SV4mvHO87AI/AAAAAAAAAK0/iOEz83rE1cw/s320/100_1984.JPG" border="0" /></a>inside them. A good portion of the signs were in Korean, English, and Japanese though, so that was nice. Most of the rooms in the houses were blocked off, so you looked in but didn't go in. Some of them you could go in and they had people in them, such as a woman spinning thread. The thing that really surprised me though was that we had to take our shoes off to go in the replica houses! I get taking them off in houses and restaurants, but these aren't even real houses. There were also some gazebos and platforms you could climb ladders onto and they had signs that told you to take your shoes off as well. The fact that it was probably at most 30˚F all day made the shoe removal seem even more illogical.<br /><br />(Yes, I am frozen. I felt like I did when I went and played in the snow the first time last year - numb yet painful all at the same time).<br /><br />There were also shows. First was a Farmer's music and dance, which included drums and guys with ribbon hats. The farmers seem to have been pretty spry in the day, and the whole thing was pretty cool.<br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dymA6BivWfwRnrEwSwlsIChBcMV9RcFQZgt6ocCuX6R1fiMU9W-Z8wV8dWudNCSJXErU4PeoesvD1E' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><br />Then there was a seesaw performance, where these two girls jumped on either end of a seesaw and propelled <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SV4nyOEKe8I/AAAAAAAAAK8/mNRZJzhLKI0/s1600-h/100_2021.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286706756302044098" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 265px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 203px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SV4nyOEKe8I/AAAAAAAAAK8/mNRZJzhLKI0/s320/100_2021.JPG" border="0" /></a>each other a good ten feet in the air. This was followed by a tightrope guy, who seems to have been very funny as everyone kept laughing. It also means he talked a lot which made it kind of boring, but he would walk and then jump down and bounce off the rope on his butt and stand up again, kind of like you would do on a trampoline. He was also probably at least fifty, so pretty impressive.<br /><br />Next were the equestrian feats. <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SV4obkfBKaI/AAAAAAAAALM/wSYQQ1u4etg/s1600-h/100_2065.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286707466694896034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 243px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 186px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SV4obkfBKaI/AAAAAAAAALM/wSYQQ1u4etg/s320/100_2065.JPG" border="0" /></a>Now, as someone who has fallen off a horse every time but once she's ridden one, I found these quite impressive. They were bouncing off the ground and back onto the saddle, they were flipping upside down, they were getting off, running alongside like the horse was getting away, and hop back on.<br /><br />Typically after that there would be a traditional wedding, but it is only done March through November, so no such luck. It would be interesting to see the place during March, when I'm not getting frostbite and everything isn't dead and the streams aren't frozen. It was cool, but it made life back then seem a lot more depressing than it probably normally would. There was a lot of the park that I didn't see, so I might go again when things are alive.<br /><br />My next specific cultural outing probably won't come until February, when I'll be doing an <a href="http://www.adventurekorea.com/ourAdventure/calendar_content.asp?id=calendar&rowno=371">overnight stay in a Buddhist Temple</a>. I'm really excited about that one...well, minus the 3-4:30am dawn devotional chanting. Is 3am dawn anywhere? Crazy monks.<br /><br />:)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-40985044228798913612008-12-30T19:53:00.000-08:002008-12-30T21:42:03.272-08:00Haesindang Park...aka Penis Park<div><div><div><div>When I was in high school I asked my Biology II AP teacher if the plural of penis was penises or peni. He was a cool guy who was pushing 70 if not already there, and so let us get away with a lot because he was past the retirement age, and thus didn't seem to care so much. He told me, after a little smile, that it was penises because the word is Latin, not Greek. I'm still disappointed because I think peni is much more fun to say, but alas, not proper English.</div><div></div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday I went on a journey to Heasindang Park. Now, first let me note that Korean culture is very conservative. Couples don't do any more than hold hands, and that's been a development in the last few of years. Women just started wearing tank tops last year, and those are more like shirts without sleeves - no spaghetti straps or anything. (Although the booty short is apparently okay for some reason...perhaps the knee high boots counters it?) That makes this park so much more interesting.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Legend has it (paraphrased from the handout I got at the park) that there was this beautiful<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SVryveohILI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/727CIys9-IY/s1600-h/The+man+and+his+fiance.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285804010163478706" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SVryveohILI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/727CIys9-IY/s320/The+man+and+his+fiance.JPG" border="0" /></a> virgin girl that liked to gather seaweed on a rock called Aebawi in the sea. One day her fiance took her out to the rock so she could collect some seaweed, and came back to the village. When he went to get her later, a storm had come and he couldn't get out to sea, and she drowned (<em>statue of him calling to her and her on the faraway rock on the right</em>). After that, the village couldn't fish worth a damn and blamed it on the lady being (justifiably) pissed, so they had a bright idea to appease her spirit by erecting -snicker- wooden phalluses to console her bitter soul. After they did, viola, the fishing became good again, and so they continue, to this day, to offer phalluses on the first full moon of the lunar year. </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>And thus we have a park full of wooden penises. In the middle of Korea, of all places. </div><div><br /></div><p align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SVr1JqgbXfI/AAAAAAAAAKU/FW6aIbqduiA/s1600-h/More+penises+to+guide+your+path.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285806659050626546" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SVr1JqgbXfI/AAAAAAAAAKU/FW6aIbqduiA/s320/More+penises+to+guide+your+path.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div> </div><p align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SVr1J6BUAaI/AAAAAAAAAKc/jaatd8KY1y4/s1600-h/The+Chinese+zodiac.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285806663215088034" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SVr1J6BUAaI/AAAAAAAAAKc/jaatd8KY1y4/s320/The+Chinese+zodiac.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div><br />So there are a lot more pictures, which you can look at <a href="http://flickr.com/photos/anicamercado/sets/72157611875341119/detail/">over at Flickr</a>. They're pretty interesting. It ended up being an all day adventure to get there though. Cheri, Sarah, her two friends visiting from the States, and I met up at 7am to get on the subway, arriving at the bus terminal a little after 8. <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SVrzl2eH4PI/AAAAAAAAAKE/K-HVr8okvwU/s1600-h/Leaving+the+wrong+bus+station.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285804944275267826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 222px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 187px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SVrzl2eH4PI/AAAAAAAAAKE/K-HVr8okvwU/s320/Leaving+the+wrong+bus+station.JPG" border="0" /></a>Then we hopped on the bus to Samcheok and three hours later got off...at the wrong stop. It was supposed to be an express bus, meaning it didn't stop anywhere else, and everyone else got off there too. So we waited for an hour and got on the next bus for the 20 minutes to the right place (<em>picture of us leaving the wrong station on the left</em>). Then we opted to pay for a taxi instead of wait the hour for the city bus to the park...Sarah sat on my lap and the taxi driver pointed out several times that there isn't supposed to be five people in a taxi (it was a $25 fare, we weren't taking 2 taxis), arriving at the park at 2pm. Then after we saw the sights we froze to death at the bus stop for about ten minutes. The bus must have been running really late, because it came an hour earlier than it should have. This got us back in town with ten minutes to spare for the next bus to Seoul, and we then caught the subway home and got back to Sanbon at about 10:30pm. </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>It was a bit long of a trip for what it was, but it was fun and now I've seen the Sea of Japan (or the East Sea, according to Koreans. They don't like Japan so much). I'm saddest at the fact that the gift shop isn't open in the winter, because you all would be getting penis souvenirs.<br /></div><div>Today we're taking a break to recuperate, but tomorrow we're going to the <a href="http://www.koreanfolk.co.kr/folk/english/main.html">folk village</a>. It won't be as visually entertaining as the pictures from this trip, but it looks like it's a pretty good cultural learning experience, and we all know how big of a nerd I am. :)</div></div></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-40386520337895378452008-12-29T00:00:00.000-08:002008-12-29T00:38:32.782-08:00Dr. Fish<div align="left">Here is something I did back in the first couple of weeks I was here, but haven't posted it yet. Dr. Fish is a place in town where you can go and get coffee and such, as well as gelato. Then, with the purchase of something, you can pay a couple bucks extra for the Dr. Fish experience (I think it was $3 each). After enjoying our gelato, Gayle, Heather, and I had our experience.<br /></div><div align="center"><br />First you wash your feet, as the lovely Heather is demonstrating. <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SViFcR-C8EI/AAAAAAAAAIM/JH32MO5o6H8/s1600-h/100_1217.JPG"></a><br /><br /></div><p align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SViG3SuVC-I/AAAAAAAAAJc/xe_-I2Ko9Qw/s1600-h/100_1217.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285122447196359650" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SViG3SuVC-I/AAAAAAAAAJc/xe_-I2Ko9Qw/s320/100_1217.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center"><br />Then you put them in here.</div><div align="center"> </div><p align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SViG21i7efI/AAAAAAAAAJM/x1Bgb1GZYdk/s1600-h/100_1215.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285122439363918322" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SViG21i7efI/AAAAAAAAAJM/x1Bgb1GZYdk/s320/100_1215.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><p align="left"></p><p align="center">That's right, with a bunch of little fishes.</p><p align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SViG3RRqe1I/AAAAAAAAAJU/EH4WzxU9klo/s1600-h/100_1216.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285122446807694162" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SViG3RRqe1I/AAAAAAAAAJU/EH4WzxU9klo/s320/100_1216.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><p align="left"><br /></p><p align="left">Then the little fishes eat the dead skin off of your feet. (Note my feet are the only ones that don't hit the bottom. Yeah, go ahead, laugh. Alas, I have found that Koreans aren't as short as you would think.)</p><p align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SViG35lAGcI/AAAAAAAAAJs/LFXgKCxy16g/s1600-h/100_1220.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285122457626220994" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SViG35lAGcI/AAAAAAAAAJs/LFXgKCxy16g/s320/100_1220.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><p align="left"><br /></p><p align="center">See my cool, calm, smile? Not how I looked through most of it.<br /></p><p align="center"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SViG3jEiQ9I/AAAAAAAAAJk/f0fX2xtzsoQ/s1600-h/100_1219.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285122451584467922" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SViG3jEiQ9I/AAAAAAAAAJk/f0fX2xtzsoQ/s320/100_1219.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><p align="left"></p><p align="left">Not only am I not a big feet person, but it tickled like you wouldn't believe, not to mention feeling really bizarre. That, and the fish really liked my feet, so I got nibbled on more than everyone else. My non-arches were especially popular.</p><p align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SViG-XKe5xI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/-luOgqYHUIk/s1600-h/100_1222.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285122568647272210" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SViG-XKe5xI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/-luOgqYHUIk/s320/100_1222.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><p align="left"><br /></p><p align="left">Gayle freaked out the longest, for a good 12 of the 15 minutes...and I caught it on video, of course! I've tried flipping them over but it's not working, so tilt your head sideways. This was after we had already been doing this for ten minutes - I only freaked out for the first two minutes or so, and not nearly so bad. Impressed? If you notice she barely has any fish around her feet either because she was next to the filter, whereas I was the fish buffet main course. In the second video, Heather is counting to five for Gayle to keep her feet still...and my laughter can be heard in both. I'm a good, compassionate friend. :)<br /></p><p align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz1UdccM7Vem8zFri5rp65dO7jp9lwnl_31Rd6u_4AHdfpfmx9GlXIdjOXywCH4CxEzsbBlk62TP6Q' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p align="center"></p><p align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxnIRAp6FC0NTpowOcM_d_3VwfUGemMROPz1X7giYfwzUlDesAsLjStmHowBhwJUODQL7MuWehToe8' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p align="left"><br /></p><p align="left">My feet didn't end up feeling too different after the fact, but all in all it wasn't bad after the first couple of minutes.</p><p align="left">Keep on the lookout for more updates this week - I have a week of vacation and am planning to see a couple of sights, including a really interesting one that you aren't expecting!</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-11411016054679949932008-12-13T07:12:00.000-08:002008-12-13T07:35:30.210-08:00The Wonder GirlsWonder Girls is a Korean girl band, and their song, Nobody, is everywhere. EVERYWHERE.<br /><br />I know it exists in part thanks to the girls in my classes. One of them can even do the motions that they do along in the video. Being I thought she looked really silly, I looked up the video. Nope, the motions are just silly. I also looked it up because it was stuck in my head and I had never actually heard the whole thing.<br /><br />For your viewing pleasure, I give you the video, complete with English translation. My student is very proud that she knows the hand motions and the fact that she does makes her kind of cool, just so you know (she's 9). Also, the actual song doesn't start until two minutes in, should you want to skip ahead.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OEeGxugZ8OQ&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OEeGxugZ8OQ&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />May it not get stuck in your head.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-33904286668764090512008-12-04T06:52:00.000-08:002008-12-04T07:31:28.448-08:00Freezing and Korean MedicineI know I talked about freezing to death once already, with lovely pictures of snow. Truth is that was a cold spell and it's been warm in the 40s. (I just wrote warm and 40s in the same sentence, and I'm not referring to Celsius...gods help me...)<br /><br />Well, friendly supervisor texted to let us know that the next two days are supposed to be among the coldest of the winter and to bundle up. Excellent timing and all, since I'm sick.<br /><br />Alas, it's true. I didn't fight it off, I got sick. I think it's a cold, though I have no snot in my nose whatsoever (bonus) but I do have a lovely cough. It's been a week and my voice is still funny. I have yet to return to man-voice, but have been pretty consistent in the hoarse voice I have right now. Some say it's sexy, though one of my coworkers said I sound like a 45 year old chain-smoker. Actually, it seems to be females think sexy and men and children think horrid, which works out pretty well for me.<br /><br />I haven't gone to a doctor and I doubt I will - the medical profession here frightens me a bit. For one, all of the other foreign teachers have been to the doctor (as we've all gotten sick), and whenever they come back they end up with 5 prescriptions. Ted has had bronchitis for a month and they just keep giving him sets of five pills.<br /><br />As you might already know, I'm not a big fan of medicine. We over-medicate like crazy and it's creating the mutant antibiotic resistant little bugs we now have today. I only take the medications that I think are absolutely necessary, and things like pain killers are not among them (one of Ted's five pills).<br /><br />The other thing is that here you don't get your prescription in individual bottles with a nice list of side effects and warnings. Nope, the pharmacist puts the pills you need to take at one time in a nice little parchment pouch and you get them that way. While this is convenient, you have no idea what the pills are, what weird side effect you may have, nor have they been checked against any other meds you might be on. Being I've had a prescription once that had a listed side effect of turning your urine orange or red, sometimes those are important. (It did too - bright Kool-aid orange. Imagine waking up to that one morning if you didn't know it was possible as a side effect).<br /><br />On another note, I'm not impressed with their medical ideas in other areas. In order to get your Alien card you have to do a medical exam that includes a blood test, hearing test, chest x-ray for TB, blood pressure, and a <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/STf2jth2urI/AAAAAAAAAHk/NTDfxdij2uw/s1600-h/100_1241.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275956581865274034" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/STf2jth2urI/AAAAAAAAAHk/NTDfxdij2uw/s200/100_1241.JPG" border="0" /></a>pee test. First was the blood test, where the woman <strong>didn't wear gloves!</strong> That's right, no gloves, nor handwashing before me or between me and the person afterwards (I at least got a new needle). The lady who serves me free samples at Emart wears gloves, but not the lady taking your blood. Then there was peeing in the cup. Now I've peed in many cups in my day, and they are lovely plastic things that are sealed and sterile, come with a screw on lid, and usually have some discreet way for you to move it from one place to another. The cup they gave me could have been a drinking cup - hence I took the picture of it. That and you walk down the hallway to the bathroom and back with it, out and uncovered like that.<br /><br />So, anyway, I won't be going to a doctor unless I have to. The fact that it'd be all translated through my not-quite-fluent-in-English boss probably doesn't help either. She mistranslated to my supervisor that she had blood in her urine when she really needed to do a urine test. Oops.<br /><br />Well, that was a nice tangent/rant thing. Back to my original complaining on dying, yet again- here is my forecast for the next two days:<br /><br /><strong>Friday: </strong><br /><em>Windy </em><br />High: 24˚F<br />Low: 13˚F<br /><br /><strong>Saturday:</strong><br /><strong></strong><em>Mostly Sunny</em><br /><em></em>High: 28˚F<br />Low: 14˚F<br /><br />!!!!<br /><br />Do you see the part where it says High, and then were the number begins with a 2? A 2! And the low, that number begins with a 1, but it's not 3 digits like it's supposed to be. It's also nice enough to tell me that tomorrow at 12pm, when it is 22˚F, it's going to feel like 8˚F. That's a single digit...temperatures aren't supposed to come in single digits. :(<br /><br />This may be the last you hear from me, as I may end up frozen to my doorknob when I leave the house tomorrow.<br /><br />(I hear you laughing, and it isn't nice. You be good or I'll drag you to Vegas in the middle of August and see how you do in 122˚.)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-57839892987455941232008-11-29T06:05:00.000-08:002008-11-29T08:31:19.461-08:00Random Hodgepodge<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/STFokX384eI/AAAAAAAAAHM/LMtPjAnczfY/s1600-h/100_1435.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274111612720832994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/STFokX384eI/AAAAAAAAAHM/LMtPjAnczfY/s200/100_1435.JPG" border="0" /></a>Well, the non-existent Thanksgiving is over so it is now Christmas season. Emart (the Korean version of Walmart that actually pushed Walmart out of Korea) had their Christmas stuff up the night of Thanksgiving. Crazy it wasn't up in August, huh? :)<br /><br />I spent $15 on a 4' Christmas tree, which I set up today. I had some Christmas lights in my closet when I moved in, which saved me a good $10. $7 for some tinsel an<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/STFnoyQFYmI/AAAAAAAAAG0/uqUbLRf36SE/s1600-h/100_1435.JPG"></a>d a star for the top and viola! I have Christmas in my apartment. Money well spent.<br /><br />***<br />(It keeps not inserting lines where I put them near pictures, giving me scary paragraphs. The stars are me trying to cheat the system).<br /><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>In other news, I woke up with man-voice on Friday. Wasn't sick, just woke up with man-voice. Or as my lovely mother put it, sounding like I was in the middle of hormone treatment for a sex change. Thanks, mom. Anyway, six hours of teaching and I migrated to sexy raspy (well, according to the teachers - the kids were kind of scared of me sounding so incredibly different). Today it's more froggish and going in and out more. My throat doesn't hurt and I don't feel sick although I have a tiny bit of a cough today, but nothing like what you would think with my voice sounding the way it does. </div><div> </div><div></div><div>I refuse to get sick - I'm the last foreign teacher to have not gotten sick. I refuse, I tell you! I actually had a recording of my man-voice on my computer (I wanted to hear if I sounded as weird as I did in my head), so it's down below for your viewing pleasure. You have to turn the volume all the way up to hear it though. And since I wasn't planning on sharing my random talking to myself with the world, a clip of the song I'm singing so you don't think I'm crazy. It's from the musical episode of Daria. (Make sure you turn the volume back down in between.)</div><div><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxieOm5TL_PfvSGzAUusuRGONl8QJHMkOUgIS6xdiA83Cm6KIzXlCh-LM-mA-Z6Xc-KJA5wQLKwP6o' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dysDP-dviZho-te-M8sC0LEn33x86bTbCkvvCKKw2slPI9XpxBP49CI9WwwxhBKDfksI9QA2CmAVMU' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />On another unrelated thing, you may notice a new picture on the left side. On the night of the 25th, I officially won NaNoWriMo by totalling 50,048 words! I haven't written a word since then, but hey, I did it. :) Statistics wise, I wrote approximately 28 hours, going anywhere from 1,264 words per hour to 2,609. When I wrote at home, by myself, I usually averaged about 2,100 an hour. I wrote 21 days, averaging 2,383 words and an hour twenty of writing for the days I wrote. And all this without any caffeine whatsoever.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Here's the spiffy message you get when you win, complete with new web badges:</div><div></div><div><br /></div><div align="left"><em><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/STFo3VC9dKI/AAAAAAAAAHU/1ewa_FPIcJk/s1600-h/Nano5.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274111938379216034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 101px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/STFo3VC9dKI/AAAAAAAAAHU/1ewa_FPIcJk/s200/Nano5.bmp" border="0" /></a>Through storm and sun, you traversed the noveling seas. Pitted against a merciless <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/STFo_pJzAWI/AAAAAAAAAHc/VsidWFein9c/s1600-h/Nano3.bmp"></a>deadline and fighting hordes of distractions, you persevered. You launched yourself bravely into Week One, sailed through the churning waters of Week Two, skirted the mutinous shoals of Weeks Three and Four, and now have landed, victorious, in a place that few adventurers ever see.<br /></em></div><div><br /></div><div align="left"><em></em></div><div align="left"><em>We congratulate you on your hard work, salute your discipline and follow-through, and celebrate your imagination.<br /></em></div><div><br /></div><div align="left"><em>You did something amazing this month, novelist. We couldn't be prouder.</em></div><br /><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Tee hee. Novelist. My book is crap - I think it's written okay but the story concept was much better in my head than what it was on paper. Eh, now on to bigger and better ideas that kept tempting me during the month. I may like to read romance, but writing it was pretty boring for me. Crappy relationship developing.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-19392167337164820742008-11-24T06:16:00.000-08:002008-11-24T07:23:57.698-08:00Why there is so much EngrishSo I was planning a post at some point on the Engrish I've seen around and taken pictures of, but I'm waiting for my collection to grow a bit first. (Engrish is things that are in English but were translated very badly and make no sense. They're usually pretty funny.) <div><div></div><br /><div>Anyway, so we were at dinner for one of the other foreigners birthday, and this new Korean t<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSrDhll54GI/AAAAAAAAAGk/XViwGSd0k7o/s1600-h/100_1416.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272241295584780386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSrDhll54GI/AAAAAAAAAGk/XViwGSd0k7o/s200/100_1416.JPG" border="0" /></a>eacher at my school came with us. His English is pretty crappy, and he had this book with him. It ended up being chock full of fun for the dinner table, and now I think I realize why there is so much Engrish out there - because even their dictionaries are bad. Here are some of the more choice ones, first from the drinking section and then from the dating section. Keep in mind this is just from the twenty or so pages we looked at; imagine all the fun that could be found in the 550 other pages! Also, all are verbatim - <u>I</u> did not typo, and the book is from 2001, so it really has no excuse. Commentary in italics. </div><div></div><br /><div>A: Do you stand me a drink today?</div><div>B: Yes, I'll stand you a drink if you like. <em>(Huh? We first thought this was British slang or something, but then we kept reading)</em></div><div><em></em></div><br /><div>Anyway, it's getting too bored here in this club. Let's change the scenery! Hey, treat me another round.</div><div></div><br /><div>Note: I'm a little bit high. = I had a little drink. <em>(Is that what they're calling it nowadays?)</em></div><div></div><br /><div>Get real, my friend! Smart girls like her ain't fond of party animals like you getting blacked out all the time. <em>(Because it is important for them to learn words that aren't really words...)</em></div><div></div><br /><div>I've got a crash on Jane. I love her so much I can't live without her. <em>(Ah, those cursed crashes.)</em></div><div></div><br /><div>My girlfriend dumped me because I'm a poor salaried worker. <em>(Don't worry, you're better off.)</em></div><div></div><br /><div>I've got dumped because I don't have any money. "No money, no honey," they say. I know I was just her part-time lover, nothing more, nothing less. <em>(Important phrases to know!)</em></div><div></div><br /><div>My husband doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, doesn't fool around, is physically fit, great in bed and not afraid to shower. <em>(Ah, the perfect man! No shower phobia for him!)</em></div><div><em></em></div><br /><div>He was caught two-timing by his girlfriend last night and he's in hospital because his girlfriend beat the living crab out of him. <em>(You go girl. I wonder if the crabs came from the one he was two-timing with? Use protection people!)</em></div><div><em></em></div><br /><div>A: Have you done anything behind your wife's back?</div><div>B: The only thing I've ever done behind my wife's back is zip her up. </div><div></div><br /><div>I have been on nude beaches before and I'm certainly no prude, but I'm very uncomfortable about being seen in public with my deformity. <em>(Deformity? Is this really a common problem that people have with going to nude beaches?)</em></div><div></div><br /><div><em>This one was especially fun for my American co-worker who is half-Chinese:</em></div><div>Hey, I hear you're going out with a chink. What's up with that?</div><div></div><br /><div>A: Does he drink, gamble or chase women?<br />B: No, he doesn't drink, he never gambles, and he detests women. <em>(Sounds like he is fabulous! - if you know what I mean.)</em></div><div><em></em></div><br /><div>A short fling won't quench your thirst - it will only stimulate your appetite and create more problem. </div><div></div><br /><div>A: When are you going to marry? You're already 40.</div><div>B: Don't worry, mom. There's a lid for every pot.</div><div>Also: Every Jack has his Gill </div><div><em></em></div><br /><div>Who is your main squeeze among those babe?</div><div></div><br /><div><em>And ones that are just funny because they use Dick as their generic male name:</em></div><div></div><div><em></em></div><div></div><div>You know, Dick. I'm tired of being single. So it would be nice if you could set me up with someone.</div><div></div><br /><div>A: You can call me Dick. Now we are on a first-name basis.</div><div>B: Being on a first-name basis isn't everything, you know.</div><div></div><br /><div>That's it! Dick and I are through! <em>(I think I've said that at some point in my life...)</em></div><div></div><br /><div><em>And one last example to send you off. You know, maybe they understand better than I thought:</em></div><div><em></em></div><div><em></em></div><div><em></em></div><div>After retirement, you have a new boss - your wife. She doesn't issue orders; she uses diplomacy. For example: "We should wash the windows." "We should clean the cellar and garage." "We should trim those high bushes." You will soon be learned "we" means, "Honey, you..."</div><div></div><div></div><div>:)</div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-89566481077572318002008-11-20T06:03:00.000-08:002008-11-20T06:28:33.417-08:00I'm going to die.<div><div><div><div><div>I am. </div><div></div><div><br /></div><div>It is so cold here right now, that even if I survive all of the body parts I'm going to lose from frostbite, the hypothermia will get me. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Now, I know you're probably thinking, hey Anica, you are such a cold wimp. True. I am, and I readily admit that I am a desert rat. However, this is what greeted me when I left for work this afternoon:</div><div><br /></div><p align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSVwgZUPEKI/AAAAAAAAAF8/fTG5oF926kA/s1600-h/100_1402.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270742640760918178" style="WIDTH: 196px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 153px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSVwgZUPEKI/AAAAAAAAAF8/fTG5oF926kA/s200/100_1402.JPG" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSVwgg0i61I/AAAAAAAAAGE/SWwt3SbeBWI/s1600-h/100_1403.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270742642775485266" style="WIDTH: 216px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 155px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSVwgg0i61I/AAAAAAAAAGE/SWwt3SbeBWI/s200/100_1403.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><p align="left">Yeah, that's snow. In November. That was about as much sticking that it did and it all melted right away, but still. You know, that song I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas might actually make sense now - and here I thought those things only happened in movies.</p><p align="left">Oddly enough, it's a lot warmer tonight, in the 30s. Last night, it was 22˚! And that's in Fahrenheit; it's a much more scary sounding -5.5˚C. Yup, going to die.</p><p align="left">In a cultural tidbit for you, I present with you how Koreans keep warm. They don't seem to be big in the scarf thing, but instead wear these masks that look like medical masks to keep your face warm. They're less than a buck, so I got one just because I could:</p><p align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSVwgzSXjHI/AAAAAAAAAGM/TnK_IPFXtSg/s1600-h/100_1412.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270742647732407410" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSVwgzSXjHI/AAAAAAAAAGM/TnK_IPFXtSg/s200/100_1412.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><p align="left">However, two main problems. One, it fogs up my glasses, just like a scarf does. I'm currently debating which risk is greater: losing the nose to frostbite by not wearing one, or breaking and deforming the nose by biffing it since I won't be able to see where I'm going. Your thoughts? </p><p align="left">The second problem, which you can kind of tell, is that I think my head is too small. It doesn't look like that on the Koreans, anyway. So, I solved my problem, tee-hee, tee-hee. I bought a smaller one (which was twice as much money), for my little head. I give you the really cute kid version:</p><p align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSVwhQcPo9I/AAAAAAAAAGU/hiiSMtq-NGU/s1600-h/100_1415.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270742655558460370" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSVwhQcPo9I/AAAAAAAAAGU/hiiSMtq-NGU/s200/100_1415.JPG" border="0" /></a></p><p align="left">(It says "I'm Happy!") I wore it for about two minutes...it fogs the glasses as well. </p><p align="left">I've seen some of my kids in their cold weather gear, and I may have to go shopping again. For my warmth, of course! Beanies that look like an animal head with sides hanging down that can be used as a scarf or are mittens seem to be really popular. That's certainly better than just buying earmuffs. :)</p></div></div></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-42354384755860321292008-11-16T09:08:00.000-08:002008-11-19T05:02:04.930-08:00NaNoWriMo and my first jimjilbang<div><div><div><div>So I'm participating in <a href="http://www.nanowrimo.org/">National Novel Writing Month </a>this month, or NaNoWriMo. It's become an international event and is in its 10th year. The idea is that you write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. Why? To prove you can do it. Being I can't remember the last time I wrote anything that wasn't school related, let alone fiction, I thought it would be a good thing to try. It turns out there are a bunch of foreigners here that are doing it, so I've been able to make some new friends as well. You can view my progress with the little meter on the left side - at the time of this writing I'm doing good at 31,969 words, though I really hate my novel at the moment and have gone a few days without writing. Oops. <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSQMv6zSSfI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Qdo1lR9cA3s/s1600-h/100_1383.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270351481308072434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 205px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 125px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSQMv6zSSfI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Qdo1lR9cA3s/s200/100_1383.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div>Anyway, on Saturday, which was the midpoint, we had a writer's retreat at a jimjilbang (sounds like jim-juh-bong). It's a sauna type substance that is pretty popular over here. We went to the <a href="http://dragonhillspa.co.kr/">Dragon Hill Spa</a>, which is seven floors and kind of crazy. </div><br /><div></div><div>You pay to get in ($10 for the time I got there), and they give you clothed and this bracelet <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSQJeJ6pFOI/AAAAAAAAAFE/5zWsATVlAtI/s1600-h/100_1387.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270347877592929506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 117px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 106px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSQJeJ6pFOI/AAAAAAAAAFE/5zWsATVlAtI/s200/100_1387.JPG" border="0" /></a>with a key and barcode on it. You then take your shoes off and lock them in a locker with your key number right by the entrance, and then go to your gender's locker room - the women were on the third floor, the men on the fifth. You then see a lot of naked Asian women. A lot. And not all 90 year old women like when you go to the gym. (Or maybe I was just always that lucky?) Anyway, then you have a locker where you change into the t-shirt and shorts they gave you, or in my case, go back and exchange them because the waist of the shorts, while it stretches, is as wide as the length of my foot. I'm not exaggerating - I should have taken a picture. Anyway, then you roam about. </div><div> </div><div></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>We wrote for a while in the cafeteria area on the first floor, then I ate dinner and tried some of the co-ed stuff on that floor - a rock salt sauna, a wood-fired kiln. <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSQLsjqwK7I/AAAAAAAAAFM/7brnj5UIWBs/s1600-h/Salt.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270350324047031218" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 188px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 146px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSQLsjqwK7I/AAAAAAAAAFM/7brnj5UIWBs/s200/Salt.jpg" border="0" /></a>The rock salt sauna was 55˚C (131˚F), which felt like a hot day in August to me (on right - not my picture). The kiln ones didn't have temperatures, but I wished they did. They had a low, medium, and hot kiln, and by hot they mean the surface of the sun. I was barley glistening in the first sauna, but the hot sauna it was pouring off of me. Inside the floor was wood and there were wooden blocks to sit in, and I still had to sit on my towel on the wooden block before I didn't feel like my butt was burning. Actually, I have a little burn on my knee from where I knelt on the floor for 15 seconds to reach for a wooden block someone had just gotten up from in hopes it would be cooler. The first time I think we lasted two minutes, and I went in a second time, since the other saunas really didn't do anything for me after that, and I think I lasted a whole four minutes. When I pushed my glasses up it felt like the metal burned my nose, and as you may recall, I have a lot of pieces of metal attached to my body. My entire body was also red for a while after that. It was interesting.</div><div></div><br /><div>I also tried the ice room, which was 10˚C (50˚F), which surprisingly felt really good. This was after the uber hot sauna - well, after adjusting to what felt like an icy temperature of the general room for a couple minutes, and then going into the ice room.</div><div></div><br /><div>Then I checked out the women's only sections. I didn't have a lot of time for this, as I didn't find out until 8:30 that they charge the overnight rate of another $12 at 9pm, so I was trying to get out before that. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention - you can sleep in them. There are lots of open spaces and people just pass out all over the floor. It's an odd experience.</div><div></div><br /><div>As for the women only section, which was a little bit of the rest of the third floor and the entire second floor, there was a lot of nakedness. Actually, I didn't see a stitch of clothing on the second floor at all - there may have been signs saying as much for all I know. Luckily, I am surprisingly comfortable being naked when other people I don't know are naked, and I think me walking around was educational for the toothpick Korean women, especially since tattoos are illegal to get here. ;)</div><div></div><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSQMRoXlU8I/AAAAAAAAAFU/wa2iwXAfJlE/s1600-h/water.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270350960963965890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 131px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSQMRoXlU8I/AAAAAAAAAFU/wa2iwXAfJlE/s200/water.jpg" border="0" /></a>There were open shower stalls, or sit down versions with handheld shower heads, all over the place. There were pools of varying temperatures, some with salt water (on left, also not my picture). There was a nice jacuzzi pool as well with jet streams. I didn't see the whole thing, but I believe there are saunas down there too, and there was also supposedly an outdoor women's only pool...which I would assume would also be naked. I may have to try that at some point. </div><div></div><br /><div>There were also additional services you could pay for - for anything you did extra, you just swiped your bracelet and paid the balance on the way out. Even the restaurants and vending machines worked that way, which was cool. Anyway, they had massages available (I wish I had had the time!), some scary thing called string hair removal, and body scrubbing. I saw some of the body scrubbing, and it consisted of a woman scrubbing down your entire body while you were on a massage table, using a loofah and some kind of scrub. The women scrubbing you were not naked, of course. They are at work, after all. No, they were wearing black bra and underwear! They were all probably in their 40s, but still.</div><div></div><br /><div>S<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSQNFeGjShI/AAAAAAAAAFk/R0vBLuEFQ0o/s1600-h/100_1384.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270351851561372178" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_L9yDmnMHyxo/SSQNFeGjShI/AAAAAAAAAFk/R0vBLuEFQ0o/s200/100_1384.JPG" border="0" /></a>o yes, I've decided that a gay heaven probably includes a jimjilbang. The funny thing is that a lot of Koreans go with friends. I don't know how I'd feel walking around and doing a bunch of stuff naked with my friends. I guess it happened with showering at the gym and all, but this would be hours of hanging out together, naked. What do you think?</div><div></div><br /><div>Anyway, so that was my cultural experience this weekend. I'll have to try again when I'm not worrying about the time. That's a pretty good deal for $10, although I hear most of them are only $5 but are also a lot smaller.</div></div></div></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-24933047220727644242008-09-28T04:53:00.000-07:002008-09-28T05:06:06.338-07:00I'm here!Well, I am here in South Korea, and have been for almost 48 hours now. I don't have internet yet but I found a wireless that is letting me connect.<br /><br />I just moved into my apartment today. The people who were in it before left it a giant mess and it needed to be cleaned. It was bad enough that the Koreans were wearing shoes inside to clean it, which apparently is a big sign of how bad it was. They told me that the one guy who was cleaning will stop in the doorway when carrying in a heavy piece of furniture to take off his shoes, so him wearing them in here was fairly significant. I saw it after they had been cleaning for a while, and I wouldn't call it disgusting, but I've seen some pretty gross places. It was left with a bunch of crap everywhere.<br /><br />Anyway, I start teaching tomorrow, which is also the first day of school for OSU...kind of ironic, don't you think? I'm a little nervous. There is another new guy who got here a couple hours before I did, and we are observing a class and then have to teach our own. On the upside, the classes we should have are beginning English kindergarten kids, so we don't have to do much, especially the first day, but the fact that they're going to be five and six is not helping here. We'll see how it goes.<br /><br />So far it's been pretty busy for me. I've been staying with Gayle, one of the other teachers, and I've been pretty much doing stuff ever since I got here. It's nice, and she's paid for everything so far - it's like a pay it forward to the newbies - but I've had a total of maybe an hour and half to myself. <br /><br />Anyway, I need to go to bed, as I'm still trying to catch up on sleep from the way over here. 12 hour flight, plus a two hour layover, plus a three hour flight, and then a half hour taxi ride. Yuck. I have a couple of pictures of random stuff that I'll post tomorrow if the internet holds.<br /><br />Night. :)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38908872.post-4915011832764544002008-09-23T15:46:00.000-07:002008-09-23T16:20:18.020-07:00Hmmm...Alright, I'm very bad at this whole blog thing. In case you missed that. I'm trying again though. ;)<br /><br />Well, if you haven't heard, I am going to South Korea for a year to teach English. Why, as everyone keeps asking me? Why not? It pays well, I get to see Asia, and it delays the real world for another year. I found out this summer that what I thought would be my perfect career is...not. So I'm back at not knowing what I really want to do, and I couldn't find a job that I liked. After thinking about it, I figured why get a job that I don't even like while I'm applying for it, just because I'm broke, when I could go teach in Korea instead. So, there you have it.<br /><br />I'm teaching at a private school, where I'll have kids from 5-15. They pay for my airfare, my one-bedroom apartment, and I get a month pay as a bonus at the end of the year. It's a pretty good deal, and I'm hoping to save a lot of money for those pesky student loans. I'm also hoping the year will help me see the light of what to do with my life and all.<br /><br />Anyway, I'm in Los Angeles right now, waiting to leave. I had to come here for my visa interview, which was really dumb because the interview only lasted about 45 seconds, yet I had to come and do it in person. At least the school is paying for my hotel room because they wanted me to stay and pick up my visa as soon as it's ready, and then leave from here. My flight leaves at noon on Thursday, and I get into Seoul at 9pm on Friday. (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ick</span> for time differences. On the upside, when I return, I'll get in two hours after I leave, by local times)<br /><br />So that's it...expect pictures and more to follow!<br /><br />Well, I'm going to try at least. :)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11428033439125315780noreply@blogger.com0