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.