And I feel fine

Well friends, this is it. While staying on the lookout for any horsemen, I've had a pretty good last day on earth. It's all revolved around cooking/baking, enjoying the glow from the fire in the fireplace and the lights on the tree, listening to Christmas music, and watching winter storm Draco do its best to try and give us a white Christmas. 

There are molasses cookies in the oven and stew cooking in the crock pot. So many delicious smells! 

The storm knocked out our satellite, so listening to the usual Traditional Holidays station on Sirius was not an option. I turned the radio on, and "Good Riddance" was playing. Fitting. 

Overall, the world ending tomorrow is not entirely bad. I didn't really feel like working all weekend anyway. 

For some music on our last evening, here is one of my favorite Christmas songs from my second favorite Christmas movie. If by some strange and unlikely chance the Mayans/the people interpreting the Mayan calendar got it wrong, this is still a nice song. 

Not the time

I taught kindergarten on Friday. I've taught this class several times this year. While not the smartest class I've ever worked with (I passed out their standardized test scores Friday, one of the students is in the first percentile, the high score for the class was around the 75th, most were in the 30s), they are sweet, energetic, excitable 5 and 6 year olds. And I enjoy the time I spend with them.
Not owning a smart phone means on days I teach, I am unable to check the news, Facebook, etc. So I didn't know what was going on Friday in CT until I was home for the day. I am so thankful for that, because I'm not sure I could have made it through the afternoon without crying. This is beyond heartbreaking, beyond tragic. Kindergarten and 1st grade are my absolute favorite ages of students, and how a person could do something like that is unfathomable.

Since social media became mainstream, political debates are no longer limited to the water cooler or over a beer at the local bar. And since we are able to hide behind our computers, gentility seems to be out the window. So naturally, like everything else that happens, this terrible tragedy has spurred many online debates. I'm not trying to single out one side. I'm seeing liberals posting about increased gun laws and racial profiling (when white people do it, it's mental health. when black people do it, it's gang violence). I'm seeing conservatives posting about their 2nd Amendment rights (guns don't kill people, people do). I avoid political debates on Facebook for the most part. No one ever changes their point of view because of an argument via Facebook. All it does is start something, and nothing good really comes of it. 

But when I saw this, never have I wanted to start something so badly.

How can people be so callous, and while calling themselves Christians? When I started seeing this and things like it yesterday, many people in Connecticut still had bodies of their loved ones in that school. To suggest that this happened because it's a secular school is disgustingly offensive. Sadly, I'm not terribly surprised this started, because it happened with the Boxing Day tsunami. It happened with the earthquake in Haiti. But for some reason, saying it with this tragedy, and so soon after is much more offensive to me. Anyone who buys into this should be ashamed of themselves. Those children were innocent 6 and 7 year olds. What about the women who were killed? They were just earning a living. I'm positive that most people posting that picture earn their income in secular businesses of some sort. And what about the churches that get blown up routinely in northern Nigeria? What about the the Sikh Temple in Wisconsin? What about the Amish girls in Nickel Mines? If there are more God fearing people than the Amish, I'd like to know who they are. 

One time I was talking to my therapist about religion. After listening for a bit, he asked me if I was an atheist. I'm not, though I know my faith is slightly different than some other Christians. But the God I believe in lives in the hearts of his followers, not a building. 

I wish there was an easy answer for stopping this sort of heartbreaking violence. I don't know what it would be. I do know I'd rather give up my 2nd Amendment rights than see this happen again. Stricter gun laws are the obvious quick fix for this. If nothing else, it would at least hopefully buy us some time to get at the real problem, which (in my opinion) is why? A person who wants to do that kind of harm will find a way, even if he/she can't purchase a gun legally. But what goes so wrong in a person's mind that they want to do this? 

The most important thing to remember while we are all practicing armchair politics is that we are talking about human lives. There are 20 children whose gifts from Santa will remain in a bag under mom and dad's bed. There are families who lost mothers, wives, and daughters because those educators sacrificed their lives to save the lives of their students. Now is not the time to bring up religion in school, especially in such a thoughtless manner.

cliche sunrise photo

This December is shaping up to be much like last year's-springlike. Last Monday I was in Chicago, where I saw many people walking around in short sleeves. The 70 degree temperature made drinking gluhwein while Christmas carols played in the background at Chistkindlmarket feel somewhat wrong. While I do love and hope for a white Christmas, I wasn't about to complain. I like wine. I like Christmas. I like warm weather. It was an A+ Monday trifecta.

Though there have been exceptions like last Monday, for the most part the weather has been pretty depressing. It's rainy, gray, and damp. Snow would be nice. Sun would be nice. I'd settle for anything else.

So a few mornings ago, this is what I saw outside.

I still plan on moving to Florida once I get over my fear of alligators, hurricanes, and this. But it was mood brightening to see something besides gray.

My Korea plans are mostly in order. My passport will hopefully arrive this week. The closer the departure date gets, the less excited I feel about it, and I have a theory. One of my college profs used to joke with us that the reason she hated going to the library was the commute (walk across the quad). Once she there, things were fine. She worked great. It was quiet and distraction free. And she always knew that. But the thing that caused her to drag her feet was the anticipation and the commute. I am feeling the same way. The journey to Korea is the opposite of fun. This time around I have a middle seat on a United flight (which means no personal TV, only the awkward ones hanging from the ceiling that you can't really see that well, usually showing movies I don't want to watch anyway, and surly flight attendants) from Chicago to Tokyo. Then I have a 2 hour layover there, before a few hour flight on to Seoul. I'll be the first to point out that I felt a bit silly saying I'm upset because the plane I'm flying on doesn't have personal TVs. White person problem. But, I have motion sickness which sometimes makes it impossible for me to read on a plane without getting a migraine. I also can't sleep on planes. AND, I'm an extremely nervous flyer. If I sit with nothing to distract me, I often think too hard about the fact I'm 35,000 feet above the ground which leads to mini panic attacks, especially if there's even the slightest bit of turbulence. It's not like watching old episodes of network sitcoms on a TV implanted in the backside of the seat in front of me is my favorite thing to do, but it's at least a slight distraction.  So back to my original point, while I am excited to spend some time in Korea, eat some delicious food, get my stuff back, etc, I'm really nervous for this "commute" which is giving me a general feeling of not excited for this whole thing.

I tried to save our baby

A few weeks ago I subbed at a local kindergarten, where a classroom aide was kind enough to warn me about a girl in the class who always had lice. "Just don't let her hug you" was the advice given to me. I appreciated it.
Fast forward to today, I subbed in the kindergarten class again. The girl came up to me and said "Do you know I have bugs living in my hair?" My reaction was combination of trying to not be grossed out and trying to not laugh. I wonder how other almost strangers have been asked that question by her.

It reminded me of a time years ago when the Morris household was dealing with an outbreak of lice. We'd all used the special shampoo, changed our bedding, and put all of our belongings in airtight plastic bags for some time. The only thing left was several weeks of picking the eggs out of our hair. Sounds gross, but anyone who's ever had lice understands what a chore this is. My mom learned quickly the nits were easier to see in bright light. She would frequently have Eliza or me come over and let her check for eggs when we were around bright light of any kind. So one sunny morning my mom met several of her lady friends and their children at the park. The moms were sitting on the park benches talking and watching the kids play, when a 4 year old Eliza came running over to where they was sitting, and in front of all the other ladies announced that this would be a great time to check her hair for eggs.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving. I've felt a lot of ups and downs the past 6 months regarding my decision to not go back to Seoul. However, when I was sitting at home eating turkey with my family, and this week as I've started baking Christmas cookies galore while listening to radio stations that play only Christmas music, there is no where else I'd rather be.
But along those same lines, I've been putting some pressure on myself to not live at home. Yesterday a 5th grader asked me if I still lived with my parents. I lied to her, and said no. To which she replied "Good, you're too old for that!" No kidding, tween. Isn't there a One Direction TV special or something you could go watch?
Though out of curiosity I looked in the local paper for apartments. $600 for an apartment in Princeton. Yep. And THAT is why I still live at home.

Eavesdropping

I taught kindergarten today, where I overheard this little gem.

Boy 1: Do you know how my step mom died?
Boy 2: Umm...did she eat too many poison berries?

I love those kiddies.

I'm one federal apostille away from spending the month of January in Seoul. I can almost smell the kimchi. I hope I can keep my cool this time.

In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights

Cheesy cliche subject, I know. But given the chance to allude to a musical, I have to take it, even if the musical is one I think is awkward and contrived. 

Speaking of musicals, is anyone else so completely excited for the musical movie version of Les Miserables? You don't really have to answer that, because truth be told it does not matter what your answer is. I am excited enough for everyone. One of the two times I skipped school during my K-12 years was to go to Chicago to Les Miserables. The other time was to go see Riverdance, in case you're curious. I love love love this show. My only complaint is that there is no way that Anne Hathaway sings "I Dreamed a Dream" as well as Susan Boyle. I think someone missed the boat by not casting her to play Fantine.

What was I even going to write about? There was something, probably about this Friday being a year since I arrived home. I don't remember where I was going with that though. I can't stop thinking about Les Mis now. 

So here's this for your listening enjoyment. SO GOOD! Tell me this doesn't want to make you build a barricade and start a revolution. 

Clang Clang Clang

While sorting trip pictures, I try to choose some to use on this blog. Shortly after I arrived home from San Francisco, I picked out a few pictures to upload on here. They were put in their own folder on the computer desktop, then forgotten about.
One of only a few downfalls to living in the country is the internet, or lack thereof. Think dial up speed. It's okay for checking email, sports scores, and weather if I'm lucky. But uploading pictures turns into an all day job. As for things like Skype, Facetime, or streaming videos, forget it.
So it's been nearly a month since San Francisco, but I guess finally putting these pictures on here is a good activity for this cold and rainy fall day.

I know nothing about this. There were probably signs up around it, explaining what it was. However I was too busy looking at a skull in a pink bunny hood to be bothered with anything else. 

 In front of the Painted Ladies, aka the spot where the Tanner Family has a picnic on the opening credits 

San Francisco was full of gorgeous old houses

Our to do list wasn't long, but a pilgrimage to the Tanner House was tops on the list. Judging from some back yard scenes I remember, the Gibbler House would be the one on the left. I need a hobby. 

  

Aside from the Victorian houses, my favorite thing about the city were the old street cars. I was never able to get a good picture (but you can see them here), sad. They are from various cities around the world. 

The sky was beautifully blue and the sun was bright every day we were there. It was lovely weather, but made photographing some things hard, especially since I was just using my ipod. So it didn't photograph the best, but this house was bright purple and pink, a bold color selection.

Alcatraz! I will show you my photos from Alcatraz next time. And by next time I mean the next time I go to San Francisco. Here is some good advice for anyone planning a trip there-book your Alcatraz tickets as immediately after you book your plane tickets, even before your hotel. They sell out like whoa fast. We were told a few days in advance would suffice. Not true. The sooner the better. It was still cool to see it from afar, but it made me want to see the inside all the more.  

The Golden Gate Bridge (and my finger), like Alcatraz we enjoyed this only from afar. No tickets were needed or anything like that. It was just cold and windy, and public transportation was confusing. So drinking warm beverages in a coffee shop was more appealing. 

Not San Francisco, but I really love Chicago. So I took a few pictures at Union Station while waiting for my train home.

I didn't dislike San Francisco by any means, but it was not at all what I expected. I'm not sure what I expected, but that wasn't it. The city was full of delicious food and seriously crazy people, two of my favorite city things. I rode a trolley car packed full of tourists and thought about Rice-a-Roni. I give the trip two thumbs up. San Francisco had never been super high on my places to go list. There's not a good reason why, I just hadn't given it much thought. But it's definitely worth a visit or two or many.
I was unbelievably lucky my first year in Bordeaux. I met and made friends with amazingly wonderful people. They became my second family when my real family was an ocean away. With few details given, when offered a less than part time job that paid next to nothing in a different continent, they made the same questionable decision I did. They've been my roommates, my travel mates, my partners in crime, my cooking companions, and I hate to say this term because I think it's corny and cliche, but my rock. So what really made San Francisco so special was the chance to see my kindred spirits, minus Pat :-( It's been 4 years since we met, homeless, overwhelmed, and confused in Bordeaux. I'm thankful for every time I get to cross paths with them.

I got a winter camp job in Korea. That means I'd leave on December 26th and work at an English "camp" for the month of January in a suburb of Seoul. Whether or not I go depends on whether or not I get my FBI background check in time. I'm keeping my fingers crossed, not because I especially want to spend January in Korea (BRRRR!), but I would like to go and get my stuff back. But right now I'm enjoying my decision to stay in the USA. The holidays are quickly approaching, and I'm getting super excited to eat turkey on Thanksgiving Day, as opposed to working during the day and eating some sort of poultry that is not turkey that evening or on a later date. Other good things about being home include apple cider, political debates, my cats, and pumpkin shaped Reeses.

job rant

I hope this does not come across as sounding ungrateful, because I'm not. I know there are plenty of unemployed people who would be so thankful to have work of any kind. Most days I do feel lucky that I am able to sub, and that my boss at the restaurant was so willing to take me back. HOWEVER, I do find both of those jobs extremely thankless. I get no satisfaction from either of them, aside from the money. I know I have to have some sort of employment, but I have a hard time shaking the feelings of discouragement. Every month I see my student loan payments taken from my bank account. For what? Subbing isn't AS bad. It's just extremely tiring for not a lot of money. But let's talk restaurant employment.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again-everyone should have to work in food service for a month. It's hard. It's stressful. It means working nights, weekends, and holidays (though my current place of employment is closed on major holidays. Yes!). There's 20 people asking for different things, and only one of you. People forget that. I think back to the work I did in college, the exams, the papers, the projects, the endless lesson plans, the clinical hours, 4 months of student teaching hell, and again, for what? Sometimes, I get scheduled to bus tables. Yes, that's right. I am a 30 year old busgirl with a college degree. It's not like waitressing and bartending are especially glamorous jobs that utilize that college degree, but the voices in my head tell me that bussing tables is a especially humiliating.

So before I go to work each night, I give myself mental pep talks. I remind myself that I am indeed awesome. I lived abroad for 3 years. I've been to 4 continents, and lots of places. I'm not afraid to travel alone. Some days I have fabulous hair. I'm a fantastic baker. I speak subpar French, with a superior knowledge of French profanity. Go Laura go!

Annnnnnddddd last night this happened. As usual, I'd given myself the pep talk while preparing for a night of bartending. Go Laura go! I'd been at work a few hours, when a group came up and sat at the bar. There were 8 of them, waiting for their table. One overly made up woman wearing an ill fitting shirt and a Dixie Chicks circa 1999 hairstyle took it upon herself to order for the group. She rattled off the groups' drinks-2 Bud Lights, 3 Coors Lights, a bloody Mary, a strawberry margarita, and a water. As she finished ordering, she looked at me and said "Can you remember all of that in your little brain?" Go Laura gooowhaaaaaa? Little brain what now? Forget that customer is always right load of bull. I told her that was insulting. She said something along the lines of "you know what I mean" and one of the other people in her party said something about how in fact the brain was one of the smallest organs in the human body. Yeah, no. That's not what she meant. Used as an adjective like that, the word "little" is never anything but condescending. As a general rule of life, I don't get in arguments with women who match their eye shadow color to their shirt, especially when we are talking about bright blue. My reason being that clearly these are women who haven't matured past the 7th grade. It's not worth getting fired over. So I let it go.

This is why I say everyone should work in food service for a bit. While the majority of people have not worked in this industry, most people have worked somewhere. And no one wants to be treated like crap at their job. So why do some people think they have the right to treat restaurant employees like crap? The general population needs a reminder that the person serving their food and drinks is in fact a person, and that this is our job.

So I make no apologies for not finding your screaming child trashing the table and floor adorable. And if your kid is up running around, he or she deserves to get walked on. When you make servers sing to you on your birthday, we hate you a little bit, especially if the restaurant is busy. Telling us we "did a great job!" isn't worth a hill of beans unless you give 20+% along with that verbal tip. Say please. Say thank you. Act grateful. Never forget that your server is a person, and you are not better than him/her.

airplane etiquette 2

I once wrote an blog entry about plane etiquette. You can reread it here. Although it's a few years old, I stand by everything I wrote there. However, I'd like to add to it.  I wrote this on the inside cover of my Penny Press Variety Puzzles book on my recent flight to San Francisco.
A couple of my friends are the "I never get up on airplanes" kind of people. I am not like that. Bathroom breaks are second only to meal service as far as the best air travel time passers. However, it's important to remember that you're sharing those 2 bathrooms with about 150 other bored people. I'm talking to you bathroom hogs. I was just in line for the bathroom, 3 people behind a person bringing his Kindle with him.
I have a problem with bathroom reading. It's gross. Don't dirty up books, magazines, newspapers, etc, by reading them on the toilet. This is triply more important when we are talking about library books. Just...gross and unnecessary. Just go in, do your thing, wash your hands, and leave.
I also have a problem with Kindles. I have one, so I'm allowed to say this-they're kind of pretentious and just a smidge wanky.
And absolutely positively do not use your Kindle to do your bathroom reading. So you read it on the toilet. Then you go eat a snack while still reading. Then you go curl up with it in your bed. Gross. Just don't.
AND airplane bathrooms are triply more disgusting than normal bathrooms. In a perfect world I'd have a shower and a change of clothes after each trip there.
So this man's actions were wrong on so many different levels. In doing this, he sent 1 of 2 messages to the rest of the passengers. 1. You don't want to come in here immediately after I'm done. Or 2. I don't care about the rest of you in line. I'm going to stay in the bathroom until I get to a good stopping place in my fake book.
I didn't get to find out what message he was sending, as he was still in there for the people people between me and him, and he was still in there when I finished and went back to my seat. It's probably better this way.

My second flight etiquette rule is to be a good seat mate. I have some basic guidelines for that. The first most important is if the person next to you doesn't seem overly chatty (me), don't talk to them (me). I had plans to spend my 14 hour flight to Korea thinking about what the heck I was getting myself into while watching bad movies. Instead, I ended up sitting next to the only other non Korean on the plane.  And so I got to listen to her talk about her plans for her 2 week vacation to Korea to visit her friend and wonder if her iPhone would work in Seoul. The second first most important rule is stay out of my personal space. The only time the guy sitting next to me hasn't had his arm on my armrest while when he was sleeping for a bit. He was sleeping open mouthed, breathing coffee breath all over me. He was rubbing himself under the tray table. I can't make this up. He also came on board with a giant fake Louis Vuitton carpet bag, which he did not even attempt to put in the overhead compartments. Instead he turned it sideways and put it in all of our feet space. So in addition to getting his hairy burly arm rubbing against me the whole flight, I also lost half of my foot space because of his bag. Luckily, the flight to San Francisco is relatively short.

San Francisco is a nice place. The houses had character. The food was delicious. The water was beautiful. But the reason I went was for the company. I am so happy to have gotten to see my Bordeaux family (minus Pat, sad). Unless I marry rich or inherit my distant relative's fortune, I don't see myself ever living in San Francisco though. $14 for a sandwich! Whoa nelly!
I'll post pictures sometime, not that anyone probably checks this blog anymore. But I'll post them regardless of that.

a tumblr that doesn't suck

Why are all my posts about Korea, even though it's been nearly 10 months since I left?
 Probably because Korea and I have many unresolved issues, one of which is the fact that my favorite shoes and the majority of my summer clothes are still there. In the world inside my head, I'll live in Korea again. In reality, I don't know.
But in the meantime, I enjoy my newly discovered love of Korean dramas, SO GOOD, and my renewed love of K-pop music. I also try to find random English teachers' blog from Korea. I spend an embarrassing amount of time reading them. While doing that, I recently came across this gem http://kikinitinkorea.tumblr.com/

I guess many of those things won't mean much to people who've not been to Korea, but I freaking love that page. And generally I hate tumblr, but no no no, not this one. Most of the things on there are oh so funny and oh so true, especially the "I'm not pregnant, I just like cake" bit.

In three short days, I will be donning a maroon short sleeve button up shirt with green lettering once again. It's been 3 years since I've worked there. I don't think I remember how. And next week subbing starts again. Are either my dream job? Not quite. But I'm desperate to leave the country at some point next year, and that takes money.

I don't exaggerate

Korea is out there. I can't make this stuff up. My former coworker recently posted this picture. This is from one of the work books. My coworker had to do this lesson with 12 year olds. 

I wasn't sure if it was a legit story in Korea, or an SLP original. I did some googling, and I'm still not sure. There were other people who wrote about it, but I think most of them were teachers at other SLP schools in Korea, who were using the same workbook. 

Either way, I'm not horribly surprised. One of the pages in the workbook I used with my preschoolers was about a boy who ate too much junk food and got diarrhea. My babies spoke English well, considering they were 5 and 6 years old. But diarrhea was not in their vocabulary yet. So naturally as we were reading that story, the first thing they asked was "What is diarrhea?" Thanks SLP. 

Dust Bowlin'

On December 21, I wrote a post complaining about the lack of Christmas snow. I took this picture. Notice the grass. It's kind of green, which is weird for December.

A few minutes ago, I took this picture. The grass was greener in December than it is now, in July. Mother Nature, we have a problem. Rain please. However, on the plus side this drought has given us a delightfully mosquito free summer with very minimal mowing. No joke, I've mowed twice since May. 

I've been doing some baking lately for Niel & Shorty's BBQ. This morning I made some chocolate chip bowl cookies, to go with their homemade ice cream. I impress myself sometimes. I think my dad liked this recipe because there was some trial and error as I figured out how much dough it took to make a bowl, so there were lots of rejects. As I was baking, I had a couple of thoughts. And since my thoughts/opinions are fact, I will share them with you. 

Thought 1

Homemade chocolate chip cookies are the best. For real. Growing up, I never remember there ever being a bag of Chips Ahoy in the house. I desperately wanted them. I'm not sure why, but I did. I probably wanted to fit in with the other kids in my class at lunch. What was I thinking? So uniform! So much less delicious! That doesn't taste like chocolate! I feel this way towards all store bought desserts vs. their homemade counterparts, but especially those. Maybe it's because homemade chocolate chip cookies are SO good, but I'm actually legit offended by Chips Ahoy cookies. Where is the delicious buttery brown sugar taste? Those are not cookies. Ugh, and don't even get me started on store bought pies. 

Thought 2

Dear Food Bloggers, as fascinating as your prerecipe background stories about how you craved this food during your pregnancy and now it's Junior's favorite, and as artsy fartsy as all your photos of all the ingredients arranged around the mixing bowl are, I don't want to waste ink printing them. Please put a link to a printable page with your recipe. I've been getting a lot of my Niel & Shorty dessert recipes from baking blogs. Food bloggers need to spend less time uploading macro shots of  two eggs laying on a flour bed in a bright orange mixing bowl and more time putting "PRINTABLE RECIPE" links on their pages. I guess I could copy and paste the recipe into a word document, but come on. Does anyone actually read/care about the food someone you don't know cooked for her future husband on their first date, and how she has made this cake for him every year since then? No. I didn't think so. Give the people what they want, please. 

hiatus

 I haven't abandoned this. I just haven't had much motivation/inspiration to write anything in the past month. I actually have 4 half written entries saved, and they were shaping up to go nowhere, so they will probably remain in the draft folder forever. Hopefully soon I'll feel a bit of motivation again, but in the meantime, here's a few pictures.

4th of July was a bit warm! I guess this is what we get for enjoying 80 degree days in March. But it was a great day nonetheless. I went swimming, ate grilled food, and watched fireworks. What more could a person want for the 4th of July? 

3 years ago this month, this kitty showed up at our house. He was fur and bones, so scared of people, and most importantly had a bunch of extra toes on each paw. Eliza and I started feeding him, and thankfully he stayed because he is the sweetest buddy. He is no longer fur and bones. He is way less scared of people. And he is still polydactyl.  He is a little slow ("I wish he were 20 times smarter so he'd be like a normal cat" is how my dad describes him), and lacking the usual quickness and agility of cats. But one of my favorite things about him is that his tongue hangs out a lot. Usually it's just the tip, but last night this happened. 

a full blown case of a head case

I got off the ride.

Stop the ride, I want off.

So I posted that blog yesterday. I did some thinking. And I decided for right now the best thing for me was to return to Korea. The panic from last time had at least mildly subsided. I only cried once, instead of nonstop. I felt okay with my choice. After this whole big long drawn out thing starting back when my original FBI background check got lost, I had made a choice. I was going. I patted myself on the back for making a decision 5 days before my ultimatum date, rather than waiting until the last possible second again. I emailed my recruiter to give her my good news. She responded quickly, saying she was happy and she would contact my school. I woke up this morning to this email. 

In case you can't see it due to the small size of the picture, allow me to paraphrase. It says they already found someone to replace me. They were in the process of drawing up his/her contract. They will notify me tomorrow (Friday) of their decision, and I need to fly out on Saturday. 

Huh.

Perfect.

So I either have to get everything ready to go, and possibly unpack it. OR wait to hear from them tomorrow, and see what they say. If I end up leaving, I will leave Princeton tomorrow, giving me a few hours to pack. 

What happened to my week? Is a week in Korea a different length of time? Since when was a week 2 days? I know I shouldn't complain since none of this would have happened had I gotten on the plane two weeks ago like I was supposed to. But but but! I don't think asking for truthful information from my recruiter (two days vs seven days!) is too much to ask for. 

The roller coaster continues. 

And also!

One more thing, I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone I've talked to in the last week. I've gotten so many unbelievably kind words from people both near and far. It brings such a huge smile to my face. I love knowing there are so many people who have my emotional back. There are seriously no words to explain how wonderful that made me feel.
I love you all, and though I don't wish ill upon you, I do hope that I can return the favor at some point.

or else

My school gave me an ultimatum. I can't say that I'm overly surprised, and I actually expected it before now. Yet, I still got stomach flops and a lump in my throat when I opened an email on Monday that said "You need to arrive this week or your school will have no choice but to find another teacher."

I don't blame them.

 At my last school we had a teacher fly the coop. We parted ways on Friday. When we all returned to work on Monday, he was missing. He informed my boss via email that he was leaving Korea. It was a giant pain in the butt. We all had to give up our breaks to cover his classes. The manager was in a panic about who would replace him, as getting teachers legally is usually a lengthy process. Luckily within a week she found one who was willing to work illegally for a few months until the visa could be secured. Then a few weeks after that some folks from immigration showed up at our school, working on an anonymous tip, to investigate the two (one teacher had other visa problems) visaless teachers who were working there. Then those of us who were on break when they showed up had to go "teach" the classes while the visaless teachers pretended to be in training, or something like that. Never a dull day. Clearly we needed to hone our acting skills, because the immigration people didn't buy it. One of the illegal teachers had to set up a Monday morning meeting with immigration and spent the weekend worrying about her impending deportation. She was able to dodge that bullet somehow, but she got reprimanded, fined rather heavily, and put on a plane for a quick visa run to Japan. 

Side note- I never got to know this skip town in the night teacher all that well.  Our interactions at work were limited to saying hi, bye, and little else. I regret it, as I know from experience starting in Korea can be a lonely experience and I should have made an effort. But anyway, he seemed nice and normal. He left Korea with no warning. Big deal. It's not  for everyone. Of course at first I wondered why, but those thoughts were taken over with thoughts of annoyance over having to give up my break to cover his classes. However, the other American teachers at my school would not let it go. They got on his desk computer and went through the browser history to get his Facebook info so they could friend him, despite him saying he wasn't on Facebook. They all exchanged stories about their last interactions with him. They all had their theories as to why he left. They flipped their s#!t because in his fridge was an egg carton, and in the egg carton were some egg shells. In their eyes this was the behavior of a deranged serial killer. I never spoke up to inform them that I do the same thing. I don't want to fill my trash with egg shells with bits of raw egg stuck to them. Both the heat of the summer and underfloor heating (with my trash can sitting on the floor) would cause those eggs to make my apartment smell like toots in just a day or two. So I leave them in the carton, in the fridge, until I am ready to take the trash out. It's maybe not entirely sanitary for my fridge, but it keeps my apartment from smelling. Win. I had fleeting thoughts of leaving in a similar manner, so that when they'd go through my apartment they'd find egg shells in the fridge too. 

So anyway, this week my school is forcing me to make a decision. They have been patient with me, and I do feel legit bad for being such an annoyance to them. But UGH I dunno.

I actually now have two extra copies of the elusive FBI background check, so if I decided to not go now, finding a new Korea job in a month or two would not mean starting the visa process completely over. But I want this job I have now. I like the ages of the kids. I like the lack of older elementary kids. I like the hours. Those are all three major pros, and finding another job like that would be more than tricky. And what's to say leaving in a month or two would be any easier than leaving this week? It wouldn't be. Goodbyes are the pits, whenever and wherever they take place. 

I'm going in for my second meeting with the counselor today. I hope it goes well.

Hold onto your seats. It's decision time. Help. 

Empty seat!

So the flight I was booked on is scheduled to take off in 18 minutes. Since it's taking off from O'Hare, in actuality it will probably be more like an hour before it's in the air. But at any rate, obviously since I'm writing this now I am not on that flight.
In an attempt to make myself seem like not an emotional train wreck in my last couple postings, I downplayed my anxiety about returning. Truth be told, I was an emotional train wreck. I always had a bit of anxiety and some tears when leaving in the past. But something this time felt different. I love Korea, but I could not make myself pack that suitcase. I could not make myself confirm my ticket.
Last time around, Korea was good. I had a few bad weeks in January/February. The weather was beyond terrible. I hated my boss. I hated my boss' boss. I was homesick. The single saving grace was a short trip to the Philippines planned for early February. As I was leaving for that trip I kind of realized "whoa, after this trip is over, I'm still going back to crap weather, a boss who was no doubt a snake in a past life, and no trip to the Philippines to look forward to!" I tried to not dwell on it, but the thought was always there. I guess I dwelled on it too much because after that trip my travel companions wanted nothing to do with me. But what can a person do besides move on? So I did. And the weather got nicer. And my boss (slightly) mellowed. And I got new students who were absolute day brighteners and I still force my family to look at pictures and videos of them. And I made new friends. Life was good. Life was better than good.
I was sad to leave my good life there. I wanted to return. I was sad when my papers got lost. I still wanted to return. Somewhere between when I was supposed to leave in February and now something changed. I am not entirely sure what changed. I have no idea why something changed. But something changed. I could not talk about leaving without crying. I cried when my ticket arrived. I cried every day after. I woke up in the night and would cry. One morning I sat on my bathroom floor and cried for 45 minutes. Yet despite all of this, I didn't really like the idea of not returning either. I want to eat Korean food like whoa. I want to noraebang with Meagan. I want to travel to more countries in Asia. I want to fill my days with precious Korean children. I want the LIKE MY KID!!! presents given to me by the parents of precious Korean children.

I had so many thoughts running through my head, I literally became incapable of making any decision. I cried every day, and the closer today got the more tears there were. I had a headache for 4 days. I could not sleep. I could not make myself confirm my ticket, nor could I make myself email my school and say I could not go at all. This lead to me being unable to make any decision at all. I could not decide what to eat. I could not decide what to wear. I could not decide what to watch on tv. This was not normal.

So this morning I decided this was beyond me. I needed to talk to someone who was neutral, someone who spend years in school in order to be qualified to hear my problems. I emailed my school, explained there was a "family situation" and could not arrive for a few weeks. Maybe they will be understanding. Maybe they won't. Either way, starting this week I am going to see a counselor in the hopes of getting to the root of what is causing me to feel this way. And in a few weeks, maybe I will return to Korea. Or I may not. I am just hoping to be able to make a decision.

ksdflsknfksheflsknfvDEJA VUskdjflsdfnsdfk!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Today's Blog, Evening Edition. 

There are no words. None.

I am scared to say this, because in a few short days I will be spending 14 hours on a school bus 35,000 feet in the air, powered only by witchcraft (Aaron's take on flying, but it makes sense). 

BUT CAN ANYTHING ELSE GO WRONG?????????? I really hate Korea and everything involving going there right now.

Rewind to this past September. The good folks at Amazon didn't find it odd that my credit card, which was already linked to my account/address in Illinois was used 20+ times in 24 hours to purchase stuff that was shipped to some guy in Washington. Nice work Amazon, nice work. So I had to order a new card. Since I was heading home soon after, I didn't ask ma mere to mail my new one to me, I would just get it when I got home. Meanwhile, I paid for things with my debit card. No biggie. 

Fast forward a few weeks to October. During my glorious few weeks of unemployment in Korea, one thing I did do in between McDonalds breakfast dates with myself and lots of aimlessly walking around was to start getting stuff in together for my new visa. The first step was to get my fingerprints done, and order an FBI background check. I needed this done ASAP, and I didn't have time to wait until I got home. So I used my back up credit card to pay the $18 fee for the background check. 

I never use this card. Ever. Yet they still email me several times a month. I ignore them. 

So I ordered my background check using my seldom used card. The days following were a blur of packing up a year and a half's worth of stuff, mailing boxes home, working a few days, some sad goodbyes, a whirlwind trip to Istanbul, home, snuggling cats, and family time! Needless to say, using that card for the FBI background check was gone from my memory. 

Today in the mail a bill arrived from Capital One. In addition to their nonstop emails, they also send me a lot of stuff in the mail, so I've learned to ignore envelopes from them. Stop crying "wolf!", Capital One. This bill was for $182.75. Ummmm...what? That's a lot of money to be on a card I don't use. I looked through the statement, and all it said was a $35 past due fee for May, and $2.44 interest charge for the month. I did notice at the top of the bill it politely told me I was behind by 5 payments, and my account was unusable. They also reminded me they were here to help, and they wanted to work together with me to find a solution that's right for me. Phew! That's a relief! I thought I was going to have to go this alone. At this point, I was baffled as to what I used this card for. 

A normal person would have gone online, but I prefer speaking to a real human. So I called their "24 hour" customer service center. A man by the name of DeShawn answered the phone. I explained my problem to him, and asked if he could tell me what I had originally purchased with the card that resulted in 5 months of interest and past due fees. DeShawn explained to me that he did not have access to the computers, and that I should call back in the morning. I wanted to ask him why the heck they had a "24 hour" customer service center if the employees could not access any one's account, and if they would hire me because that sounded like a pretty sweet gig, despite 3rd shift hours. 

So I got online, and found on their website where they had pdf versions of all my past statements. I went back 5 months, and there it was "FBI Background check processing fee" D'OH! Yes, this is the same FBI background check that was MIA for 4 weeks. The FBI background check that cost me my job had apparently also cost me $182.  Fanfreakingtastic. 

I know I should own up and take responsibility for this. But but but! As I said in my Today's Blog, Morning Edition, leaving a country is sad. I had other things to think about. So instead considering this my fault, I'm just going to put this in the SERIOUSLY! pile, along with almost everything else involved in this getting myself back to Korea process. 

Here I go again! Here I go again.

In a perfect world all blog subjects would be Whitesnake lyrics.

The Korean Consulate in Chicago is putting the visa in my passport as I write this. I've spent the last week shoveling in all the foods I can't get/refuse to pay triple price for in Korea. My school's been emailing me about my classes and class schedule. Friday I will pick up my visa/passport. And Sunday, shortly after 12 PM, I'll be waving to my beautiful Chicago as it disappears below me.

I've done this a time or two now, so why doesn't it get easier? I've been slightly better the last 24 hours, with only short bouts of crying a few times a day, rather than excessive tears several times a day. Small steps, right? A girl can't live at home forever.

After last year's monsoon season proved to be too much for my $10 rain boots, and knowing I would not be able to find any size 9 shoes in Korea (tiny Asian feet), I made rain boots number 1 on my list of things to buy before leaving.

The image may look a bit blurry, and there's a perfectly normal reason for that, one that I'm surprised we don't hear about more often. I spilled gasoline on my ipod, and then when I didn't notice it right away, the ipod soaked in the gasoline for 10-15 minutes. Normal, right? It made a pretty miraculous recovery. There is still a slight gasoline smell, and a few discolorations on the screen, but definitely still usable. The biggest blow is the camera, pointing outward only. I can still take crystal clear images of myself, luckily for everyone. There is a tiny hole next to the lens. I cleaned the lens and it did no good. So I am guessing gasoline got into the lens via that tiny hole. Womp womp. 

So I am excited for my new rain boots. Other reasons I am excited to go back to Korea-

1. American food (again, not my lack of willpower) has made me too fat, and I'm excited to fill my diet with kimchi and sprouts again and loose this American chub. 

2. The Cubs...suck. They say this is a "rebuilding" year. To which I say "fine" but why don't they pay the players "rebuilding" salaries, or have special rebuilding year ticket prices and BOGO beer sales? But when I spend a day's wages on tickets to see relief pitchers walk home runs and cleanup hitters hit into double plays, and then walk past the players' parking lot full of Bentleys and Escalades, then hear all this talk from Sveum and Hoyer and the other powers that be, reminding us all that this is a rebuilding year, THAT'S A PROBLEM! I want them to see me play. Marmol is getting paid $7 million to get no one out and blow saves. Soriano is getting paid $19 million to strike out anytime the Cubs need a hit, and only hit home runs when the Cubs have double digit leads.  Someone please tell Cubs' management that I can do that, and I'll only charge them $6 million a season.

3. The nail polish in Korea is cheap and the colors are endless!

4. The accessories in Korea are cheap and the styles are endless!

5. I don't have to pay for gas...or car insurance.

6. I can be to Japan in a few hours, and hopefully this year I will go here! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hashima_Island

7. Noraebang!

8. This year I will have 2 classes of 3 year olds, 2 classes of 4-5 year olds, 2 classes of 6 year olds, and that's it. At SLP, I had babies in the morning/early afternoon, and older kids for the last 3 hours of school. The last 3 hours sucked my will to live. So in addition to working 2-3 less hours per day, I will only have the little babies, and the classes are much smaller.



Soooooo, yeah. I'm sure there are more reasons, but Say Anything just came on tv, and I can't turn away from this cinematic gold. Of course there are many reasons why I am sad to return to Korea, but I haven't cried yet today, and I'm afraid including those in this blog would change that. So perhaps I'll save that list for when I'm pumping myself up to return back home.
The tears are normal though, and temporary. As Aaron said "Oh, Laura's crying. She must be leaving a country" 

I will grow up where I'll wander wild and free

Sooo, for those of you I haven't told yet-I'm leaving for Korea a week from Friday. I got my eticket yesterday. My first response was to cry. My first response lasted for 30 minutes or so. I snapped out of it, and I've been thinking positive thoughts since then. And in the past 24 hours I've even felt some feelings of excitement. Those feelings have been fleeting, but they are there.
I know I'll be fine once I am eating kimchi jjigae and wandering the aisles of cheap clothing, but goodbyes waiting for me next week are all too familiar, yet they never seem to get any easier. The anticipation of those goodbyes gives me a knot in my stomach.

Sigh. But for now I'm going to enjoy the rest of the family minus Aaron week of relaxing in the Ozarks, and as much as possible try to keep the stomach knots away.

4 years later and a SLIDE SHOW!!! You are welcome.

I've been trying to get this post written for several days now, but the words just haven't been coming to me. Four years ago on Sunday I received the email notifying me of my acceptance into the assistants in France program. Initially my plan for this post was to provide a "translation" of what the letter said. But when I sat down to start writing, instead I found myself just thinking about the past 4 years, thinking about the amazingly wonderful people I'd met, the experiences I'd had, the things I'd seen. I can't believe it's been 4 years since I obsessively checked the Bordeaux assistants Facebook page. It's been 4 years since an oh so awkward email thread was started with some random people who had also been placed in Bordeaux, two of whom became two of my very best friends. Anya and Kate, you should read some of those early email threads. They are SO awkward. It's been 4 years since I spent the whole summer trying to figure out how I could get out of going to France, while still saving face. I obviously came up with nothing and away I went.

I take great pride in my mad cyber stalking skillz, and one of my favorite things to do is find less than acquaintances' blogs. I love blogs, especially travel blogs of strangers or people I don't really know, like friends of friends, or that person I met one time. However, one problem I have with travel blogs is that they are often very pretentious and full of random people's travel trophy stories, the kind of people who travel not because of a genuine love of seeing the world and eating delicious strange food, but more of genuine love of bragging to others about their experiences. Their trips are not complete until the Facebook album is up for the world to see. I've had this blog for nearly 4 years now, and in those 4 years I have tried so hard to make sure it does not fall into the "pretentious travel blog" category. I read and reread what I have written, deleting bits that I feel come across as boastful. I feel as though for the most part I've done a good job of not bragging. Except for that last sentence.
So in 4 years, I think I've earned the right to toot my own horn a bit. If you don't like it, skip this post. Living in France was one of the hardest things I've ever done. So many thing there were an uphill battle, with roadblock after roadblock and the only reason French people would give for these roadblocks was a giant PFFFFFFFF! I got off the train in Bordeaux, completely alone and homeless, trying to find my way to this crappy hostel using a little map I'd printed off the internet, walking with two suitcases, a backpack, a purse and a computer bag on narrow sidewalks past sex shops and places to exchange money/buy calling cards in the ghetto hood around the train station. I felt too numb to even cry myself to sleep. When I woke up the next morning and realized where I was, my first thought was "Oh sh*t"
In Korea, I felt so taken care of. In France, not so much. We had to do everything ourselves, from find housing to opening a bank account to spending all morning at the prefecture waiting for our alien cards, which we needed never. Most days I think I could have not shown up to work and my teachers would never have noticed...not that I ever did that. My parents instilled in me a great work ethic. So I think back to everything I went through, and I did it not once, but twice. Living in France has such a romantic sound to it, so for me to say it was one of the hardest things I've ever done makes me seem like an ungrateful weenie. But it was hard, and I DID IT! I am awesome, because I did it. I did it I did it I did it! I say it was hard, but that doesn't mean it also wasn't one of the best experiences of my life, because it absolutely was. Every day I am thankful that I failed my mission to get out of going. I made fantastic friends that I think about all the time and love so much. I saw things. I ate delicious food. I'd never have gone to Korea if I hadn't gone to France. I've changed so much in the past 4 years, mostly in the amount of confidence I've gained. I lived in France! I can handle (most) anything. Bragging over.
So my "hilarious" post about my acceptance letter never got really written. I had a couple drafts, but I kept becoming overwhelmed by feelings of nostalgia. When that happens it usually leads to me spending way too much time looking at my pictures from my time in France. I originally planned on just posting a few of my favorite pictures, and somehow I selected over 80 pictures.  I narrowed it down a bit, but I still feel like I left out some classics. How can it have been 4 years already??

Beautiful Bordeaux

Consummating their platonic relationship in Porto

Aaron loves Bolton, especially when he's performing in Paris and there are posters everywhere

the American Cemetery in Normandy

Christmastime in beautiful Paris

French people fun

Seville, I think. 

I love Anya

I'll buy whatever they are selling. 

Helsinki

The volcano in Iceland cancelled our vacation flights, so Anya, Kate and I settled for a few days in Biarritz instead. I still have never been to Berlin, but this was a great consolation prize. 

Lisbon

Eliza and Mom on the Eiffel Tower

Mont St. Michel

the Catacombs in Paris

Beautiful, lovely, and always perfect Paris

Birthday party picnic

sunny Sunday afternoon at Chartrons

Our landlady kept giant guns in our dining room cupboard

Salamanca

Randall, Pat, and Anya at our favorite Bordeaux bar, Big Balls 

More French people fun

Porto

Somewhere in the Sahara Dunes. I'd write the name of the town, but I forget. It's in my travel journal, which is all the way downstairs, so meh. I think it's either Erfoud or Merzouga.

Kilkenny

 

Anya and Randall's teamwork, another favorite

Classic France

Uppsala, I think. 

Copenhagen, I think. 

Kate, Anya, and Randall going to our birthday party picnic! 

Thanksgiving, France style= roasting chickens in the toaster oven while mashed potatoes warm on top. 

Bayeux

County Wicklow, I think. 

Some days it seems like it was all a dream, and that couldn't have possibly been real.