So I have this laryngitis-cold-thing and sound like Tom Waits. It’s cool. I hope it never ends, though if it didn’t I’d probably lose my job. Can’t teach English if you sound like the Cookie Monster. I went to the doctor’s this morning. Some details: they do stuff like take your blood pressure and temperature in the waiting room. So folks are all around you waiting while a nurse takes your blood pressure and looks in your ears and whatever. Then they have you go back to sitting down, while you wait for the doctor to see you. The doc was a youngish guy and wanted to know about my mucus and stuff. His English wasn’t great, but whatever. Between Jin and me, we could figure out what he was asking. He sprayed some stuff down my throat and some more stuff up my nose, then gave me a prescription. Easy peasy. The thing is I feel fine. I just sound like death.
Price for visit and three days of meds: less than 10USD. I pay into the National Health Care program about 60USD monthly, but damn, a five buck Doctor visit? Yeah. Not complaining.
– Time to let all the blarg dribble out.
– I don’t begrudge anyone their desire to earn a dollar even when it is my dollar (and not called a dollar) — I just don’t like it when they become so aggressive about their desire that they resemble parasites on the expat community.
– We’re not disagreeing so much as exploring the contours of our agreement.
– Hey Annoying 4th Grade Girl, you are soooooooo annoying, but have embraced being that kid no one likes with such defiance that I have to salute you. Everyone in life will hate you and try to grind you down. Don’t change. Stay annoying. (Just maybe, you know, do your homework sometimes…)
– Isn’t he one of those guys who goes to Steampunk conventions wearing a girdle on top of his JC Penny suit?
– When people favorite my tweets I assume they’ll use them later to blackmail me.
Here’s a brief write-up of the latest expedition into Ur. Names have been removed to protect the innocent.
The party made two excursions into the ruins. Their goal was to find the “zoo” mentioned in the journal of Mad Alchemist. The first expedition went well. They stumbled upon an outpost of the Spiked Circle and held the line against them and their carnivorous ape pet.
Three characters went into the ruin, four returned (though one was carried out).
They went back to Fort Low, healed, restocked their supplies, and went back into the ruin. After some encounter avoidance they found the zoo. They also found some mutant undercity dwellers, who decided to make lunch out of the party. Two members fell to paralysis, the third fled.
Three characters went into the ruin, one returned.
Five people walk into a room. They’re all what may be called active readers in that they read at least a book or two a month. One of them brings up a book. None of the others have read it. One only reads award-winners and bestsellers, another is reading her way through Dickens (last year she did the same with Trollope), that guy only reads genre, as do the last two, but it’s a different genre than the first guy’s, and these two are reading at the opposite ends of it. Maybe there’s a book they have all read and can discuss. Inevitably this book will be tied in with a class somewhere at which point the conversation will drown itself in nostalgia.
Across the street, five people walk into a room. They’re all active television viewers. They follow at least one TV show a week. One brings up a show. They may not all like it, but they all talk about it. Conversation achieved.
There’s nowhere to get breakfast in Pohang on the weekends. It’s crazy. Say you’re up at 8AM and decide to walk along the beach, if you’re lucky maybe, just maybe, you’ll find a coffee shop open. Even the toast places don’t open until 10:30AM. And. They. Make. TOAST!?! Doesn’t anyone in this town want to drink coffee outside of their house early on a Saturday morning?
It’s become so bad I’m starting to daydream about opening up a restaurant that would just serve two eggs, toast, and hash browns. We’d be open from 6AM to noon and that’s it. Nothing but breakfast.
I also regularly daydream about learning how to play Iron Maiden’s “Number of the Beast” on the ukelele, so yeah, pipe-dreams both of them.