Theme of the Weekend: GET OUT

I had a great Korean weekend. I have been a bit of a hermit for the past few weeks, so I was happy to do my hair, put on a new dress, and have a few glasses of wine. On Friday we went to Anna's last wine and cheese party. She's going back to Toronto in October, so I suppose someone else will have to carry on the tradition. There was a lot of cheese with the wine, so everyone was very, very happy. Korea is not a nation fond of cheese, so we very rarely even get a taste.

Anyhoo, the night was very pleasant and I finally got those Grey's Anatomy DVDs from Dan, so I was all set for a very lazy Sunday of catching up on Season 5.
After the party, we made our way over to Slang for some dancing. We were only there a short time when the smell of burning plastic (rubber?) really put a damper on the night. Since there aren't very stringent fire codes here, I knew there was only one exit door and only one staircase up to the main floor. And this was not just smoke: it was apparent very quickly that there was a fire a-brewin'.

Turns out that someone in the building next door actually tried to commit suicide by burning down his apartment. It was later reported to us by the bar owner, who was really upset, for obvious reasons. It was pretty traumatic, actually. If you don't know, I'm a freak about fires. I recall this fire safety lesson (more like "installation of fire terror") from the fifth grade. We were told that we MUST install rope ladders from all second-storey windows to ensure we could get out in the case of a fire. My mother refused to put in said ladders, promising me time and again that we would have ample time to get out an ample number of exits in our home. Sure enough, I would wake from nightmares, sure I could smell smoke.

In university, I was the fire warden, ensuring that everyone got out if the residence was buring down. Needless to say, I'm terrified of fire (more accurately, being caught in a fire). So when the CLUB we were in was apparently burning down, I ensured I could see everyone with whom I came, and got the heck out of there. It was horrible. However, we were fine, had only minor smoke inhalation, and went to another bar for another few drinks.

Saturday came too soon and I just wanted to stay home and veg all day. But we had made plans to get together and watch the firecrackers. I'm nuts for fireworks: I just can't get over how beautiful they are. So we traipsed to Yongin Park in Seoul, and got comfortable in the new park (I took pictures here when Matt and I went to the pool...the place has completely transformed from a sandy, dirty mess to a gorgeous, marble-ridden park paradise overlooking the river. It was very well done in just a few short months). We waited and waited, growing ever hungrier, but the fireworks would not start. We either got the place wrong or it was cancelled, but the sky was only cloudy: no rain in sight. Too bad we missed them too: it was supposed to be a battle between China, Canada and Korea. Instead, we headed to Itaewon for some dinner and yet another night out.

We arrived at Budda's Belly at around 10 and got a great big table and some delicious Thai cuisine. Reminds me that I'm headed to The Big Thai soon! I'm psyched! Carolyn and I had a great dumb off: we attemped (and succeeded, naturally, as is the definition of a "dumb off") to explain why we accept bad behaviour from someone we love. Why don't we expect more, demand more instead and if we don't get what we deserve, why do we stick around? It's nice to actually laugh about how dumb and bling you've been. It's refreshing to know that someone else has done the same thing, and that you are both now done with that life. Phew.

After our dinner and dumb off, we went next door to a hooka bar. I think the hooka is totally gross. Do I really want to suck from the same spitty hose that relative strangers have been sucking from? Not really. Plus, I don't know what's in that strange ball of aluminum foil at the top of the pipe. Or, for that matter, what the mysterious liquid is in the bottom. It's probably just water, but you never know: it could be kimchi liquid. Ew.
Inside the grotto that was our table

And then I couldn't find some people from our group. I went up what turned out to be the back exit when I couldn't find them in the club, and found them climbing up the front stairs, carrying an Asian man. This man had started a fight in the club and had actually punched one of the guys we were with, and then slapped his girlfriend when she got all "Jenny from the block" on him. Once outside, he ripped off his own t-shirt and ran back into the club, past a wall of westerners who were attempting to hold him back. Needless to say, it was him against the all other patrons in the bar, but he was pretty much winning. He was agile, nimble, and full of adrenaline. It was pretty scary. I returned to the adorable nook where we were sitting and attempted to usher everyone out: we don't really need to put ourselves in harm's way, so let's just go, right? Oh no, everyone wants to stay for the action. Eye roll. I'm too old for that kind of action. In fact, once I saw my first barfight at the Rideout in London (I was 18, note), I was too old for barfights. I tried to find a picture of the old place...I was not successful.

Anyhoo, upon his third or fourth triumphant return to the bar, we finally got out of there, the group breaking up into three cabs and getting back to the quiet city where we live. Thus, Sunday was very lazy, full of potato soup and chips (gasp!). It was nice to actually just laze around, watching Grey's.

Before the ruckus. Kali is on the right: she's gone with her boyfriend to Auz now. It's sad to see people go. Erin and her husband Jeffrey are staying another year though: they're super nice.

Bugs

So there was a massive praying mantis on the water cooler in the teacher's prep room today. And when I say massive, you know I mean "gigantic". I was reaching for some toilet paper (since the bathrooms don't stock it) and I saw it: its beady eyes were staring off into the distance, its little hands (?) grooming its little face. It didn't look exactly like this, as it wasn't really poised for battle with me, but it was scary nonetheless. Ew. My co-teacher managed to save it and threw it out the (fifth-storey) window. Only in Kooooorea.

Time to Brag

All of my friends are fabulous. I have had most of them in my life for the longest time, and the new ones I have acquired are equally as wonderful. I'm always amazed at their resiliency and adaptation in the face of the weird and circumstantial things that come about in everyone's lives, and I talk about these feats all the time. When I can post something that highlights their accomplishments and show them off, I'm more than happy to do so: the world should see how fabulous they really are.

Laura left a big downtown Toronto law firm a little while back and started up her own consulting firm. She's an environmental lawyer by trade, and she was sure she could use her expertise to build her own career and better the world, instead of making The Man richer. Though the uncertainly of being self-employed sometimes freaks her out, her ability to make contacts and influence people in the business ensures she will be a success.

She was recently interviewed by the Globe and Mail for an article about entrepreneurial professionals. From what she tells me, the three hour interview went very well and we can expect to see the article in print soon. Further to this, she wrote a piece on carbon credits for HazMat Magazine. The article, due out in an issue of the mag in autumn 2009, exemplifies her ability to fully articulate a world wide problem in language most people can understand, while simultaneously keeping the information relavent and thought-provoking enough for people in the biz.

She's recently landed a large contract to develop a solar project for Pearson. She worked really hard with other professionals to ensure she clinched this one. Wicked awesome, non?

Her website is http://www.laurazizzo.com/ and I invite you all to take a look. She's really great. Not only is she involved in climate change initiatives for Canada and around the world, but she is also passionate about helping people in developing countries better their situations. She's working with a project to put cookstoves in homes in Cameroon as well as with a UNICEF Youth Delegation. It's pretty remarkable that a woman as young as me (turning 20 soon!) can be responsible for issues as large as these. I'm really proud and I'm really grateful that I have such a strong friend. Way to go, Laur! Oh, and she's a real giver: for my birthday last year, she treated me to see the Material Girl herself. That is a picture displaying my joy at the event.

Big News!

My friend Carolyn is pregnant! I'm THRILLED and so are she and her husband Dave. All the best to you both as you embark on this amazing journey together! I wish I could be there to watch the miracle!

September 23: Korean Day of Gift Giving to Alexis

Alright, this is a GREAT day. And this will be a GRATEFUL blog.
Yesterday I made a kid cry. Strange way to open such a grateful blog, but I will explain. I called her out, just like I do with every and any student who isn't paying attention. I point at them, stare at them, and force them to say the word or phrase that everyone else has been saying as part of the lesson. I do it at least once a class. That way, they all stay engaged and interested (at least I've convinced myself of that). Anyhoo, this kid is adorable. She's got the cutest face and she looks so sweet when she smiles. Yesterday she was doing a lot of frowning, pouting, and whining. And we know how I feel about whining (yeah yeah, I know I used to [still do] my fair share).

So not only was she being called out because she was whining, but also because she wasn't participating. She lost it. She was bawling.

My co-teacher let her go out of the classroom, where, as he recounted later, he explained to her that this is my MO: I do it with every kid. Furthermore, had she been in anyone else's class, she probably would have started crying there too. Basically, he took the blame from me (the teacher who made a kid cry) and put it on her.

At the end of class, I apologized to her personally and profusely. I'm not sure she fully understood what I said, but I trust she understood my body language and tone of voice. Here's hoping. When I got home there was a note on my door, telling me I had a package ready for pick up. I knew it was Laura's! I'd have My Man call tomorrow to leave it with Mr. Kim and I would have a gift when I got home!

This morning as I was getting ready for school, still feeling a bit sad about the fact that I made a kid cry, my phone rang. It was 7:35 am. What the hell? Mrs. Yim, my Korean Mother was outside at the elevator and she wondered if I would come out. Huh? I thought it must have something to do with the exam question she asked me to review, so I prepared myself to answer the question in question as I got dressed.

I opened my door to a complete surprise. Mrs. Yim had brought me some goodies. When I say "some", I mean "scads of". Why? I'm not sure. Could have been the fact that I've been complaining about Korean food for the last little while; saying that I'd LOVE a steak and a salad. Who knows...who cares. She is the nicest woman EVER.

These packages are NOT small: that bag would comfortably fit a basketball inside it. Since I had to get going, I only opened the bag and put the pink package in the fridge for later. Inside the bag was sweet potatoes, regular potatoes, cooked corn on the cob, hardboiled eggs in a bag with a note attached that read, "Boiled eggs", and some cans of tea. I could not WAIT to see what other gifts I would uncover.

So back at school today the previously-crying student came into the teacher's prep room to see me. She asked my co-teacher to help her translate that yesterday was not my fault and that she was feeling pretty sensitive, hence the outburst. And then she gave me this:

Is this the cutest thing we have seen ever in life? I think so. And a Korean Joe Louis? I think so. Let the feeding frenzy begin.

I had a great day today at school. My lesson plan is going really well and I'm actually enjoying teaching it over and over and over and over and over again. I walked home and was happy to see Mr. Kim at the booth when I got home. Though he played coy with me and refused to give me the package, he finally gave in when I told him I would bring my beautiful co-teacher by next week so he could give her the chocolates he bought for her. We'll have to see about that: she's 28 and he's 65...meaningful love? I'm not sure. I raced upstairs to see what Laura had sent and I remembered Mrs. Yim's neatly wrapped box. Today doesn't get any better...

The box was FULL of groceries. Apples, peaches, grapes, persimmons, tomatoes, uncooked bulgogi (Korean beef marinated in soy sauce, garlic and vegetables), and this jam:

I just don't get it. Why is she so nice? Why today? But then, why question the motives of another person, right Dr. Zizzo? Right. So I've just finished my dinner: a huge salad with all the fixin's. I'm thrilled.

THEN, the piece de resistance: Laura's care package. I can tell from the label it is going to be good: it says, "Candy" on it. Yumma.

Isn't this just beautiful? What a treasure to open!

I heart Canadian candy...Sour Patch Kids, Sweet Tarts, Nerds (NERDS? What?!), and Swedish Berries. This ROCKS. Oh, and note the toothpaste: candy and toothpaste...hilarity.

The card? Hilarious. It's so us. And for the record, I don't know the answer ;) So now I have seven new books to keep my brain from atrophying. I have vowed to return them all once I'm done reading them, as they are from Laura's personal collection. Ohh...I'm so excited. But I think the BEST part of the care package was the Jo Malone makeup bag full of perfume. I didn't bring my Pomegranate Noir with me to Korea, so I've been missing the earthy smells. Now I have some! Thrilling. PLUS, I opened the Blue Agava Cacao tester and now my apartment smells like Laura. What a way to bring home here. I can't tell you how amazing it is to recollect by smell alone: thanks for thinking of that, Laur.

So there you have it: a day full of gifts and full of gratitude from your Canadian traveller. I'm off to yoga in a few minutes then to Happidus to socialize some. I'm so happy :)

Entitlement

I'm really excited about Outliers. It has opened my eyes to things I think I have always known, just never really saw written, or heard fully explained. I'm on the chapter about Annette Lareau, a sociology professor who wrote about the effect class plays on how children are raised and how successful they become. Middle class families teach their children to talk clearly and openly with authority figures, including doctors and teachers. Thus, they become responsible for their own success early in life. Furthermore, they learn that they have a right to ask questions, assert themselves, and state opinions. I think it is important to note that all the subjects she studied learned that this right was born of privilege and that the kids could speak up, as long as they were respectful and articulate. That is, the children were not bred to be bratty know-it-alls.

This reminds me of the time I spent volunteering with the Children's Aid Society. The CAS teaches children in its care that they have rights and I'm so glad they do. Children have the right to a safe home, clean clothes, education, health care, and I think a few more. But basically, they have the RIGHT to be a child in Canada: everyone should be so lucky. But some kids knew how to work the system well. They developed superiority complexes, more than likely spawned from years of being abused and neglected, that would attempt to prove to the world that they had FAR more rights than those listed above. For instance, one had the right to not do homework; another to sass authority; yet another to physically assault other children. This is not what I mean when I say that children who grow up in a middle class environment have rights: the good ones truly do know when their rights end and privilege begins. But I digress...

Conversely, to paraphrase Gladwell and Lareau, children reared in low class families would shy away from conversations with adults, avoid eye contact, and accept the word of an authority figure as gospel. Children born to this type of environment spent more time fighting with family members, playing with children over interacting with adults, watching television, and generally had more free time. They did not have family reading time, get carted to extra-curricular activities, or engage in dinnertime conversation with their parents about things that "mattered" (as opposed to tattltale-ing, for instance).

In Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell helps to define entitlement ("That word, of course, has negative connotations these days.") by quoting Lareau,

"They acted as though they had a right to pursue their own individual preferences and to actively manage interactions in an institutional setting. They appeared comfortable in those settings; they were open to sharing information and asking for attention...They made special requests...to adjust procedures to accomodate their desires." Malcolm says, "They knew the rules."

It is amazing to me that these class distinctions still exist. However, when I think back to the relationships I have maintained over the years, my most successful friendships have been with people whose class was equal to mine. The reason why is quite simple. Case and point: my parents read to me all the time. They instilled the need to read well and quickly, write articulately, and speak eloquently. I still love the written and spoken word, and am very thankful (almost) everyday that I'm lucky enough to be teaching it now. My friends also revere the spoken and written word (with the exception of iambic pentameter. We won't go there. It's true because it happened).

Anyhoo, the long and short of it is this: I have a new theory that my failed relationship could all be attributed to this very simple class distinction. So if your parents didn't read to you as a kid, didn't cart you off to things that would "enrich your mind", didn't insist you learn new things and, for God's sake, get your elbows off the table!, we just can't be friends. And for those of you who were born dancing, playing the piano, speaking French, or reading at an ungodly age, I'm so glad we have each other.

Here's some information on Annette Lareau, taken from Powell's Books:
http://www.powells.com/biblio/1-9780520239500-3

The Big Thai Update

I'm sad to say that The Big Thai, starring Nathan and Alexis, will not be happening in January. We are both very sad about not being able to travel together, but certainly at another time, we will do it. With that being said, I'm not going to let it dampen my spirit. Or my vacation! So I sent out a mass email asking everyone from home to join me in Asia. And I got a bite! I won't say who until the plans are confirmed, but let's just say, The Big Thai is STILL ON! I'm totally psyched about this trip. And Nathan has been kind enough to still lend a hand with the planning and organization (I think I just put words into his mouth, but surely he will help ;)
Anyhoo, in the spirit of all things meditative, here's a photo from Thailand. I hope we get to see many a temple and see just how reflective we can be.
On another note, Shalaina sent me a message yesterday about how I need to change my perception. I thought it such an interesting point: if we only change the way we see things, what we see will be much different. I love it when simple things make the most sense. That's it...no need to philosophize any further.
Interesting English paradigm of the day: the difference between doubt and suspicion. I decided that to have doubt means there is reason to believe something is untrue, whereas having suspicion means there is reason to believe something is true. Now that I type it though, I'm feeling less and less sure of myself. Scholarly thoughts seep out of my head: it's lunchtime and I'm craving a Big Salad. Since I live in Korea, no Big Salad for me...kimchi instead :(

the English Language

I didn't fully appreciate before coming here how intricate our language really is. When spoken in a hurry, even by an English speaking foreigner (for instance, someone from Ireland or Auz), meaning is never really lost if you can listen carefully enough. Cut to Korea: the land of smushing words together that definately don't belong together. Case and point: a popular band is called 2NE1. What the eff is that? Oh, "twenty-one". Eye roll. Another favourite of mine is a game called "Ghost op". Or at least I thought it was Ghost Op for the longest time. The game is actually called "Go Stop", but because the words are amalgamated, the meaning is totally lost.

I listened to how some of my students say words like, "empOrer" instead of "Emperor" and I really started to appreciate all those puns my dad and I spouted out when I was a kid. For instance, a Bergamo line that has become more than just an eye-roller (it's more of a mainstay at every single function) is "putting the wrong emphAsis on the wrong syllAble", again, totally changing the meaning.

These poor Koreans: in their language, a word has no emphasis, no inflection. Imagine a language like that? Even when I underline a word for emphasis, they still don't read it any differently than the word before it. I find it odd. And my appreciation for my mother tongue is growing exponentially.

So now I'm helping My Man with some English emotions: intrigued (try pronouncing that the way it's spelled), humiliated, and stubborn. I'm finding it really challanging to find synonyms for these words: they are so perfect as they are. I'm glad that my love of the English language is only getting stronger the longer I'm here...perhaps you are all right: maybe a career in English teaching is more up my alley.

Note: aren't you just loving the Napolean Dynamite-esque title page? Giggle.

See you in OCT

The hottest math teacher ever ;)

Alright, teachers. It's time to rant. About what, you ask, and rightly so. About the Ontario College of Teachers. Now, since I'm (nearly) a member, certified and registered with them, I wouldn't dream of speaking ill of them, but know that I am a little disturbed right now with the whole organization.

It's not like they did anything wrong, technically they didn't at all. I was the one who didn't apply for registration, like, months ago. Okay, so I'm to blame. But really, couldn't they just have told me they needed all this stuff? Argh.

To make a long story short, I thought I could just send them the money to register and that would be it: our affair would be over and I would be A Teacher. Low and behold, I forgot that they also need proof of identity and an original police check. Shoot...and I'm in Asia. So I'm sending all this stuff and you are probably wondering why it all matters...who cares if I'm a teacher in ONTARIO...I'm a teacher in Korea.

Well, in order for me to take that math course about which I was so excited, I need to be registered with the OCT. Anyhoo, I know this isn't really important. The nitty gritty was eventually ironed out and Western was so wonderful: they are allowing me to take the course, pending my eventual certification/registration with the college. So everything's not lost, as Coldplay would say. I just ordered the required textbook online in CD form and I hope it gets to me by the time my first assignment is due on October 11. My first assignment looks great: 250-500 words on the first chapter of the book (gulp! Really hoping it gets here on time).

What's the book called? The Joy of X. How funny is that?

I didn't have to teach today (yippee!), so I was busy with all this OCT/Western/textbook stuff as well as keeping up with Shalaina and her latest antics. I love it when I get a SUPER long email from someone from home. It makes me feel like we are together in a living room, eating cheese and drinking wine ;)

Don't you bankers wish you had this in January?

How clever is that? I borrowed it from http://brasandranties.blogspot.com/. Hilarity.

I'm off for a run: must enjoy this crisp fall air.

...is a very, very, very fine house

This weekend I haven't missed home, per se, I have just boycotted everything Asian. This morning I woke up early and really wanted to take a walk past Chedoke Golf Course, along the Rail Trail. I tried to figure out what it was about that place that I missed: there are plenty of trees in Korea, plenty of paths and beautiful scenes from nature to see. But something is missing. Perhaps it is the courtesy smile Canadians give as they walk past a neighbour. Sometimes you even say, "Good morning." Koreans don't do that. They more often than not ignore me, and sometimes cast a disapproving glance my way.

Perhaps it is looking over the city that houses my family, friends, and memories. It's nice to look around and see the hospital where I spent so many hours with sick kids, the east end that leads to my grandparents' house, the water where my mom sails. Perhaps it is the familiarity of it all: everything here is still fairly new to me and so fairly foreign.

But then maybe it is more simple than that: I think I miss the houses. A house, especially the ones in my old neighbourhood, were large vessels that harboured lives. They were brick and mortar reminders that a family existed together right there.

This house is for sale currently on Aberdeen, a street in my old neighbourhood

A house stakes a claim on a street, on a city. It is the grand mansion on Bay Street that gets gussied up for Hallooween, complete with a smoking cauldron and moving front lawn cemetary. It is the driveway on Hess Street South where a ton of children's bikes always seem to gather. It is the front porch on Markland where a lone person always seems to sit and look out into the world. I would walk past, run past, meander past these homes and wonder what was going on inside. Sometimes if my runs would take me into the night, I could see in and view the life of a family: see homework being done at the dining room table, watch supper being prepared, imagine what living there would be like. A house...who knew I could miss a house? Not my house, just houses in general.

There really aren't houses in Korea. There are no glorious, tall staircases (or even small ones like my old staircase), no grand foyers, no bright colours in old houses. There aren't places to hide, places to be alone, separate from the space that others inhabit. There aren't cozy kitchens with green countertops and six stools to rest your body, your feet, and your head. There are huge, cramped, Saugeen-esque apartment buildings, but you can't see inside them, can't imagine the smell of a roast chicken dinner there (mainly because they don't cook roast chicken in Korea).

So I didn't go out much this weekend. Didn't wander the city streets, because I missed seeing what I'm used to: houses. Instead, I finished reading a great book, watched some movies, and made a very Canadian autumn chicken stew. It was the best thing I've eaten since coming here. Mainly because I think I needed a bit of home cooking that didn't include tofu ;)

However, to answer Laura's question in a public forum, I AM enjoying myself here. I am opening up to new things, travelling around my city, and enjoying the company of those around me. I love city living, as most of you expected I would, and really look forward to city living in other countries as well (naturally this includes Canada, but may also include somewhere else). Sometimes it's nice to be at home...and I'm starting to realize that my tiny box (ahem! "apartment") has become my home. It's clean, bright, and currently filled with cooking smells from a typical Sunday evening. I'm comfortable and happy. Houseless, but happy :)

Maybe this'll explain it

I haven't been able to fully articulate what I'm doing in Asia. Why am I here? Some of the reasons I had are no longer relevant and some of the reasons I've come up with don't feel quite earnest enough. I felt as though there was no real explanation, until I found this:

"It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure,

to embrace the new.

But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful.

There is more security in the adventurous and exciting,

for in movement there is life,

and in change there is power."

Alan Cohen

WARNING: Profane Language (and truth)

Children: are they all they're cracked up to be?

(Note: in leu of a picture, I have an interesting observation to make. On my search to find an image of a "wealthy, happy, childless couple", the only result Google could give me were folks trying to become childFUL. I'm rolling my eyes because even Google is pressuring us to procreate.)

I've been told time and time again that the happiest couples are those who don't have children. Oh yeah, that'll create a stir. But seriously, after years and years of life and professional experience, some of the people I respect the most have told me just that. Maclean's put out an article in August about "child-free" couples and the choice they make to be and stay that way. I find this very interesting, especially since having children is equally as daunting as it is enticing to me right now. Plus, since it isn't a reality at all currently, I can talk about it without much consequence.

I just remember that movie with Nicholas Cage, Family Man. He has this great apartment overlooking the city, he has more suits than he can count, his place is decorated beautifully, and there is nothing he can't afford (due to his amazing career that he's been able to foster). Cut to later in the movie when he's riddled with a bad job, a small, artless house, and two children. Sure he ends up loving the rugrats in the end, but I really loved the look of that first life. Since we can't have it all, are kids the one thing we can do without?

http://www2.macleans.ca/2009/07/24/no-kids-no-grief/4/

He sure looks happy???

Your thoughts?

Paris...Could it be my next stop?

I'm at school, working on something for my mother, and I stumbled upon this picture of Coco Chanel at her desk in Paris. Which led me further to this blog...and I just realized how much I love this decor. I mean, I have pictures like this in my journal...ideas for my future home, but never before have I seen it so real, so accessible, so chic, and yet so fun and not pretentious. Enjoy :)

http://parisapartment.wordpress.com/

The Poverty Project

As some of you may know, I spent some time working for the United Way, so the agencies and projects they support are near and dear to my heart. I stumbled up on this blog and was interested, not only because it touched on important issues, but also because it was written for the layman (me). So here you go...an article that puts a complex issue into simple terms:

http://poverty.thespec.com/2009/07/reaping-a-flood-of-consequences.html

Hamilton is really poor...it's nice that someone is talking about it.

The Spectator: my information source (apparently)

Check out Hamilton's own Alena Sharp in this clever new commercial. Hey, we know her!

http://www.thespec.com/videogallery/633834

Pane Fresco feeds Hollywood

Everyone's favourite downtown Burlington eatery prepared lunch for three for George Clooney and his posse recently. They needed something to eat on their way back to LA, so Burlington's own chef made their meal.

http://www.thespec.com/News/Local/article/633897

But seriously, GC couldn't have paid him for his efforts? I love this chef though..."I'd call it an investment." How cute is he? So let's all go there and spend some money on his food to make up for Hollywood ;) Sundays there are an amazing display of deliciousness.

Thanks for sending this link, mom!

Oh dear, Kayne, what did you do?

Alright, I heard through word of mouth (oh dear, the shame!) that Kayne West ruined Taylor Swift's moment at the VMA's. Honestly, I'm so removed from reality today that I heard about this...possibly the worst faux pas in celebrity history (well at least of 2009)...at FRISBEE tonight. As if these men know more about what is going on in Hollywood than I do.

Uh, they actually do. Apparently Taylor Swift won the award for Best Female Video. Upon accepting her award and saying her speech, Kayne West decided to come UP on stage (from the audience), interrupt her, and tell her that Beyonce's video (she was also nominated for the same award) was one of the best in a long time, or something to that effect.

So please post the video so I can see it for myself. I can't seem to find anything other than Beyonce looking mortified at Kayne saying her video reigned supreme. What is this guy's deal? Just because he hasn't influenced music in, oh, the last five years, doesn't give him the right to a) influence it now and b) have a say in what should be influenced. Oh Kayne. Faux pas, friend, faux pas. And for those of you who don't yet speak French, learn, sister, learn.

Note: I LOVE Taylor Swift. Well, at least two of her songs. And though Beyonce has a KILLER album and her videos are fun, can't we let the little Song Bird win this one? She is SUCH a sweetheart. (I'm Jack McFarland right now with Karen and Stan's new wife (played by Minnie Driver): I love them both. I totally love Beyonce and that whole I Am Sacha Fierce album. She really teaches a gal how to be a femme fatale, but then I love that soulful, youthful Taylor Swift. Not that Kayne has a role to play in this at all...get a life, old man.)

I've posted some pictures of my house...here are some around my house. This is the view from the bridge over the Anyang River (I'm not really sure if that's what it's called, but we can go with that assumption). It's about a five minute walk from my house in Anyang, and the path will take you far past Beomgye. It is so magical at night: families are out walking, couples holding hands, kids playing catch. And there are structured bridges like this one over the water, but there are smaller stone bridges that often flood when the waters get high.

Here's a sunset taken from the same bridge last Sunday night. If you kept looking right, you could see Anyang Station.


At the edge of the river, there are paired bike and walking/running trails. Embankments lead up to the road on each side, and right at the top, wildflowers like these.

Harvest season is a rich time of year in Korea. Here are some peppers, drying in the sun. Oh yeah, RIGHT beside the road. Since they use them in everything here, I guess it is more important to get the food dried than to observe, you know, customs of hygiene. Oh Korea. I can't get enough of the teeny pink stool!



Oh, and this is just so typically Korean, I had to post this as well. Korean men pass out and catch a few winks after drinking. I stoop down, ensure they are breathing, and move right along. Oh Korea.

"Hey Ferris, How's your bod?"

Well here I am, all non-flued out. Mom would say I look pale, but at least I'm not kissin' a pig! Phew. Since I had little to do this weekend but rest ...argh, the agony...I did a little decorating of my apartment. Yeah, a little because really, I don't know how long I'll be here. So in the spirit of Leanne and her Ikea decals, I bought this. It's totally cheesey and totally Korean. I heart it.

And though you can't really appreciate it from this picture, I got a bedside lamp so I can read with out the terribly harsh flourescent overhead light. It is really whimsical in here now. I still need an area rug and a few more pillows, but it is waaay better than it was. Home sweet Korean home.

The Thing about Swine Flu...

You see, the thing about Swine Flu is that you really shouldn't make fun of it. Because you might GET it. Yeah, I thought I had the Swine. Seriously.

On Thursday I was feeling worse than I had been for the past few days, sure I was getting a whopper of a cold. When I had my temperature read in the morning (by Korean law, teachers and students must have their temperature tested every day to rule out the possibility of H1N1. They are taking precautions like this in every large, dense workplace), it was in the normal range. After 6th period, high, but still normal. After the end of the day though, a mere 50 minutes later, it was elevated past 38 degrees (this is only 102 degrees: I've had worse. But I was in CANADA. Panic set in). So My Man took me to see the school nurse (yeah, they acutally have one of these. I'm not sure if she's here all the time or just for Swine Season, but I saw her.) and she tested my temperature. It was high enough to warrant alarm. So another co-teacher of mine (who is such a mother: I'm sure my mom would have been so glad that she was with me) took me to a walk-in clinic where some students were sent. My fever had again elevated, and the nurses there advised her to take me to the hospital, tout suite. I felt the tears welling up: I was scared.

After an agonizing hour later, after moving from floor to floor, masked person to next masked person, I was not only feeling horrible, but I was sooo annoyed: is this how you treat sick people? By making them walk around like mad? Is this to prove they are actually sick? I finally saw a doctor. He was wonderful, listened to my chest sounds to rule out pnemonia (I'm covering it all, mom), and we talked about Tamiflu. I asked about contraindications and, surprisingly, he was very patient with me and careful with his (no there are none) response. Phew.

I had to pay 71,000 (about $75) for this five minute visit (in Canada, I have never paid for health care, EVER) and then "get tested" for the Swine. This involved sticking a stick up my nose for a nasal swab. I think she touched my brain with this thing, it was that big. I was reminded of the little girl who had a rubber hose up her nose who shared an emergency room bed with me when I was five. Recalling this, I started to cry. Not just from the pain (excruciating, might I say), but because I was in Asia, quite possibly very sick, and had just had to pay for health care before they would even do the swab. I felt so alone, even though I had my extremely loving co-teacher with me. She teared up when I cried. Oh, and at this point, I was donning a mask. So I looked really stupid and was seriously scaring the children in the hospital.

Our next stop was for drugs. They only cost $2.50 and were given to lessen the symptoms (coughing, sneezing, pain, aches). And then I went home. And slept. Pretty much until Saturday morning. Matt brought pizza on Friday night, but we had to eat in the common area, lest he get sick sitting in my room.

Side note: there is an outdoor cat pen outside my room. I think people are keeping them in there, fattening them up, then eating them. Seriously. I heard them crying last night and saw a strange melliux of people scattered around with umbrellas, fashioning a cage for them. I was half asleep, but I'm pretty sure I saw and heard all that. I'm totally grossed out and have boycotted all Korean food until I stop hearing their meowing. That was an aside. Back to the swine.

So the hospital called me today to inform me that I do not have H1N1. I'm fine. I have a cold, maybe a flu, but I'm Sans Swine. Again, I'm being too glib...but you do have to laugh once in awhile. My co-teacher/saviour/mother figure called me right after to tell me to stay home on Monday and Tuesday to rest up. Thank god: I went out for a short walk for some non-Korean food (because of the Cat-Caused-Boycott) and I felt terrible. I'll rest again today, tomorrow, and go back to the children on Wednesday. I'm fine. Thank GOD. I will never take my health (in Asia) for granted again. I sincerely welcome all forms of sympathy at this point. I need a nap.

The Power of Now

I've never really been good at living "in the now" as you newagers put it. I'm more of a look-forward-but-glimpse-behind type of person. For example, when I'm really stressed out and need a break, I envision myself in My Future Library. You can go there if you like, anytime (no one is home now anyway). I'm totally serious. This might sound crazy, but I'm sharing, and yes, I really do this.

My Future Library has dark walls, but you can't really see them for the built-in bookshelves. There are two matching green or red chairs (it changes each time I "go" there) and plenty of plants. Not like "creepy old lady with ten cats" lots of plants, just a few plants that really "liven up" the place. Anyway, there is a beautiful old oriental rug on the hardwood floor, and my old teachers' desk (how funny that I'm now actually a teacher, years after my mom restored that old beauty) takes up most of the room. Art hangs on the walls, moonlight and sunlight come through large windows. I go there and light a fire, because obviously there is a fireplace, and relax. I can see it, smell it, feel it. It is "my happy place" and the more I envision it, the more relaxed I become. It symbolizes a bunch of things: security, home, roots, comfort; and more than this, I am envisioning my own future hapiness.

I say do whatever it takes to make yourself the happiest you can be. My mom used to say the simpliest things that made the most sense: "What will make you happy?" After I'd answer, she'd reply, "Then do that." Since I don't entirely understand how to live in the moment, the now, I will do what I can to be happy. And sometimes this means delving into the brutal past...sometimes I think you HAVE to do that to figure out what you did wrong and how not to repeat it. Come ON...don't you ever look back and say, "Phew, glad I came out of that alive. Here's what NOT to do again"? I do. And as for the future, I love to look ahead, think of tomorrow, next month, winter in Korea, vacationing at The Big Thai, teaching next year, maybe moving to Toronto when I get home. All of these things are just little dots on the horizon, but sure enough, if I work hard enough, I can reach them all. Isn't that the purpose of life? To strive?

What works for some does not work for others (wow, Planet Obvious called. They want their President back). However, until someone shows me how to live in the now properly, I will live HERE, NOW as best I can, I will hope for the future, and I will think back about how the past affects both of these. It's possible that I'm overthinking. But I love it.

So show me how. Give me a strategy: I'm happy to try it. Until then, I'm here baby, staring ahead, glancing behind.

(thanks for your comment)

Wha' Happened?

Before

After

No comment. Insert your own.

La Douleur Exquise

I got to thinking about memories the other day. I noticed that the memories I recollected with most ease were the ones that hurt me the most. I started thinking consciously, recalling consciously, the happy memories, and found that this was a lot harder than I had anticipated it would be. Why, I asked myself, was it easier to remember the things that caused pain and, conveniently, forget the things that brought pleasure?

It took a lot of Asian soul-searching to figure this one out. And of course, walking alone in the city one night, just as all good thoughts eventually do here in Korea, this answer came to me. Painful memories hurt then; pleasurable memories hurt now.

Where did the love go? Where did our life go? At one point, I felt something so real, so tangible, so palpable, that I could actually FEEL it in my heart. And now? Now that feeling is (for the most part at least) gone. The love is gone. That most rich of emotions, that most heartfelt, most real, most real part of me is gone. And so it hurts today, right now; not later, not spitefully; it just pains me now.

Possibly worst of all, there is nothing I can do to make the love of yesterday burn less bright so the pain of today can sting any less. The love hurts today, because today, it is no longer there. So it is much harder to recall.

I'm not suggesting that we should all abandon all our hurt feelings and go rushing back to the happiest memories. There definately were some terrible times. And we definately learned from those times. Perhaps, though, we run so fast from the good stuff because it reminds us that we were happy then, and we are no longer living that life, no longer in that relationship. Maybe we aren't even happy anymore.

We remember the fights in vivid detail: the resentment, the anger, the tears, and worst of all, the regret. But I can also recall hearing baseball games from the apartment, nights out in Toronto in those early days, self-portraits on the beach in Cuba, eating mortadella sandwiches from a cooler at Port Franks, picking apples, and the real Christmas tree in a very real house. If I let myself, I even remember fondly. And though it is hard most of the time to recollect these images, it feels good sometimes to remember that they brought me joy. You were good, he was good, you were good to each other, for each other. The pain is always exquisite: it shocks, it hurts, it scars.

But sometimes the pleasure is exquisite too.

VACATION, Here I Come!

It's official: I'm done school at 4:30 (at the latest) on December 30 and I'm back on January 25. I teach four days of winter camp, then I'm off again from January 29 until February 3 (when we return to school). I'll book my flight for the night of December 30 and we'll have New Year's on the beach! Yippee!


I've emailed Nathan and we are so totally stoked about the Big Trip to Thailand. Or the Big Thai, as I'm calling it now. Ah yes, The Big Thai will be fabulous. I can't WAIT!

Just to give you a little sampling of the divinity that will be this trip, I am researching places to go outside the traditional elephant ride and beach from The Beach (more accurately, I am finding them by chance and Nathan is giving them a yeah or nah, based on his experience there). Above is a picture of the Author's Lounge at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in Bangkok. It is where Joseph Conrad wrote much of Heart of Darkness. Professor Thoms introduced me to the book back in 2000. Looking at the English UWO website though, it looks like he's retired since then. What a shame. Without his enthusiasm about Conrad, I wouldn't be going to the Author's Lounge. I wonder if he'll ever read this...

Korean Epidemic: Whining

What is with Korean students? Or at least the ones in my school? It's a widespread epidemic and I'm stopping it one kid at a time: whining. Hey, I know I'm an only child, so I did my fair share of whining (still do), but come on, there is a time and place. And my time is not the time and around me is not the place. Argh. Down with the whining. Pllleeeeeeeeeeease.

Jealous in Korea

Well, TIFF starts on Thursday, which for me is tomorrow, and I'm so sad that I'm not there. Though I think I only ever saw one film with Laura one year (or maybe I even imagined that bit), I have always loved the allure of the Festival. I mean, every late summer, our little town gets transformed into celebrity heaven...the Intercontinental Hotel is a flurry of photographers, onlookers, and eager celeb stalkers. I loved the energy, the pure Hollywood of it all. And in our little metropolis, no less. Yorkville came alive...well sure, that's the only place the stars would shop! But since Laura lived so close, we too shopped there, ate there, mingled with the celebs. Again, its not like we actually saw many actors (or any really, except for Jimmy Fallon that time at a club), but it was the promise, the hope of seeing one, that really meant so much to me. Silly me, I know, but I just can't help myself :)

Here are my picks for top TIFF movies (that is, if I was there, I would try my hardest to see these ones. There are 12, so I would take any one of them that I could...what a geek):


1. Bright Star (it's about John Keats, the poet...who doesn't want to see an affair between a poet and his outspoken lov-ah?)

2. Dorian Gray (ah, the Victorian age. Need I say more?)

3. Good Hair (Chris Rock is really funny. Since bad tv runs rampant in Korea, I watch "Everybody Hates Chris" a LOT. This movie is about his daughter's real-life question, "Daddy, why don't I have good hair?" It explores the fascination with hair among African-American people.)

4. I Am Love (Tilda Swanson...she is like an etheral being that I can't quite decide if I love or hate. Anyway, she has an affair with a much younger man...believable? I'm not sure.)

5. Leaves of Grass (you know how I feel about Edward Norton. Remember him in Fight Club? Oh my dear. Anyway, he plays both twins in this film, about one who took the high road and became a professor [or something like that] and the other, who also took the high road [hahahaha] and grows hydroponic pot. I love that pun.)

6. The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus (I'm imagining something whimsical like Willy Wonka or Mr. Duncan from Duncan's Toy Chest in Home Alone 2: Lost in New York. I love a little whimsy.)

7. The Invention of Lying (since I've become a HUGE The Office fan [oh yeah, Sarah, I forgot to tell you that...I'm THRILLED], this movie staring Ricky Gervais as the guy who figures out how to lie in a truth-only world, really appealed to me. Seems funny and again, whimsical.)

8. The Private Lives of Pippa Lee (I heart Robin Wright Penn. And though she seems too young to be in a movie about moving with her husband to a retirement village, I'm eager to see her again. Word is her and Sean Penn split up...too bad.)


9. The Road (okay, I don't want to see this at all, but it seemed so acclaimed, and Viggo Mortensen is in it. Can it really be bad? I'll have to let you know.)

10. Whip It (Drew Barrymore directs [for the first time] Ellen Page. Page plays a young woman [girl?] who abandons a beauty pagent for the roller derby. Sounds dumb, but I'm so going to watch it. And much like Juno, I may watch it 15 times.)

11. Youth in Revolt (Remember Michael Cera from Juno? He's trying hard to win yet another heart in this movie...he is so cute. Remember how he put deoderant on his inner thighs before running? That's classic.)


12. The Waiting City (the pictures of this movie reminded me of what I've seen of Bangkok and Seoul combined. A couple goes to adopt a child, Ang Jolie styles, but they get caught in the beaurocracy and then turn on each other. Clearly. I guess not every adoption story is quite like Harry and Charlotte's.)

So there are my picks from the hoards of films I've looked over. Oh, I'll tell you though, I'm not stoked to see Clooney's new one. It seems strange. I don't even remember the name. Oh Georgie, what's happening? You love that odd mustache too much. Go see a Chosen One for me and report back. I would LOVE to be there this weekend :( so I'm a little TIFF'ed off :)

Let the Pain In

My mom used to have this album: it reminds me so much of her.

I was sitting in yoga class, cross-legged as Enya sang, and I was reminded so much of home.

Here, holding my thumb to my index finger, I willed bad memories to my head. Better to feel them now, during waking hours, during a healing time, than right before bed so my sleep is riddled with unsavoury dreams. But the thoughts would not come, even when I drew them in my mind, tried to string together bits and pieces of my unlived life. Those memories stayed hidden somewhere, unwilling to materialize as emotions, stagnant only as pictures, images.

Am I so private, so isolated, that the very thought of sharing emotion sends my memories running out of my concious reach? Or it it more lovely than that? Am I starting to heal? Starting to meditate instead of ruminate? Starting to accept instead of blame? Maybe it is all true: maybe there is a little part of me who's quiet and private, another who's ashamed of the past; and, miraculously, another who is helping to heal these other two.

Nice way to start Monday morning

I couldn't sleep last night and feel horrible. I found this and it made me feel a bit better. Enjoy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qXk_KVNfInU

Foreigners Marketing

After the spa, I met up with my friends in Itaewon for overpriced Mexican food. It was pretty good mainly because the portions were massive. I was pleasently surprised, but not too happy about the cost. Food here is usually so inexpensive, this was a shock. Regardless, it was the start to a good night. Here they are in the subway station, as we moved from Itaewon to Dongdaemeun for another attempt at mastering the Night Market.

Once we got to Dongdaemeun and settled at the mall-based centre, we split up into a few groups. Some of us wanted to stick around the seemingly daylighted centre (these pictures were taken at around midnight without a flash. They keep this place hopping all night long), while others wanted to see the designer knockoff section. Here's a view of the street, market to the right, mall to the left. As you can see, even at midnight, there are a lot of humans ready to spend money.

Directly to the left of the sidewalk picture, this is the tower of food shoppes sandwiched between sections of Doota Department Store. However, it is mainly coffee shoppes that litter this area, few actually serving more than scones and muffins. It's so cute to me: this wicked tower equipped with a balcony on some levels, and all they serve is coffee. To think I can hardly find coffee in stores after seeing this apparent fascination just boggles my mind. I guess that's the allure of Korea, eh? Yeah, I said, "Korea, eh?"

I thought this was so hilarious (and quite random). I know it isn't nice to make fun of them for making an English sign that doesn't make sense, but it is pretty great. Socks Day? What does that even mean? There was no store to which this sign was adjacent, so I'm not sure what it was advertising, pointing out, or leading to. It was pretty funny.
This is what the night market looks like, for the most part. It is stall after stall of everything from gym socks to fake Marc Jacobs purses. It's pretty neat.

Nothing worth mentioning caught my eye. However, I had a pretty good time.

Sunday Lull

I went for Vietnamese food today. They bring this platter (this is for two people) along with dried rice paper and a bowl of hot water. The rice paper gets placed, one sheet at a time, in the hot water, and the water softens the rice. It gets picked out with chopsticks and put on a small wooden board. Then comes the fun part: you stuff the rice paper with all this stuff, wrap it up (it's really sticky, so it sticks easily) and gobble it up. It's really good.

As per Leanne's request, here is a breakdown of what you see above, clockwise from the large pile of brown goo at the top (actually pieces of beef with sesame seeds sprinkled on top), tomatoes and shredded lettuce (closer to middle), radish sprouts, imitation crab, mushrooms, picked radish, pineapple (closer to middle), carrots, cabbage, sprouts (closer to middle), cucumber, egg shavings (this was my first time seeing egg shredded), red and green peppers, shredded kale (or something like it). In the centre, shrimp and blanched bean sprouts. There is actually very little there that you don't know. And now you know.

This is my friend, Stella, who I dined with.

Speaking of "gobbling", Koreans do have a Thanksgiving holiday, thankfully. In fact, we are off from October 1-5 (over a weekend). If anyone wants to come for a visit then, it is a great time of year to come. The leaves will be changing, the temperature will be bearable, and I'm sure by then I would love to have a visitor. Just a thought :)