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.