Because the World is Round

Thailand: Welcome to Saturn...

2009-09-22T19:17:00.002+09:00

[4 days ago: First day in Thailand]

On our taxi ride over to this guesthouse (which is the Shanti Lounge in Bangkok), I saw a billboard that I read as "Welcome to Saturn." I said it aloud and chuckled... which is when Sam pointed out that it actually read "Welcome to Satun." Not sure what that is exactly, perhaps some area in Bangkok, but nonetheless, I think it summed up the idea that here, where I am now, is so planetarily different from Korea, where I was.

Even after only being here for about 16 hours, that fact is apparent. Immediately stepping out of the airport, I am swarmed by a sea of bright-skittle-colored cars: mostly taxis, flaunting their peptobismol pinks, lime greens, sunkist oranges and more. So vastly different from the homogeneous neutral streaks of blacks and silvers that painted the streets of Korea.

Now, I'm definitely not declaring: "Korea bad, Thailand good." For there's that ("good" and "bad) in all things and places, and depends on from what angle you choose to see it, but I am saying that they're just so opposite (as far as i've seem so far): essentially another planet.

The guest house-- the Shanti Lodge-- is indeed not flooded in florescent (as too often in Korea), but lightly lit with an orange glow which flows out of red bamboo paper lanterns. The walls & floors speckled with rainbow-glass mosaics and water-smoothed rocks; mirrors glistening throughout like shiny puddles of water.

The food! Oh, the food! glass noodles with fresh asparagus, pumpkin, cilantro, lemongrass soaked in a zingy lemon-squeezed citrus pour. creamy green and red curries with crunchy cashews. The pineapple juice tastes like someone just crushed up and plopped a pineapple into your mouth, just after climbing up the tree & plucking one down... which, they did.

All this to say, here in merely my first 16 hours I breathe easy, I smile steady and I feel all the magic and good things on their way. straight on to Saturn.

Just when you think you simply can't do it...

2009-09-09T23:21:00.002+09:00

So, I was sitting in my little apartment-- which is basically like a club sandwich packed tight: turkey, tomatoes, and mayonnaise oozing out, bacon flopped outta the crust, lettuce busted out like one of those champagne-poppers... which is all to say: i've got alot of shit in here-- and realizing how much I have to actually do before i get out of here, which is in 6 days! Sort through all this stuff--the clothes, the trinkets and doo-dads, figure what to keep, what to throw, ship it home, cancel my phone/gas/elec/etc., get my payments, cancel my bank account, transfer money, find a home for the hamsters (we've got 3. but one escaped already. so, 2 now), climb a mountain, squeeze 10 korean women into a tuna can, yada yada yada. I was feeling frustrated. overwhelmed. angry. then defeated. hopeless. exhausted. overworked and useless. and then... i heard the sounds.
The sounds that could either be the hands of the gods themselves, whipping ropes over their heads and furiously shaking all the tin sheds in this town; the sound of north korea sending lines of whizzing missiles our way, taking out the neighborhood one block at a time; or... or... or this:

the world doing her thing, flashing her reminders for those that will notice it.

changing URL

2009-08-30T13:03:00.003+09:00

Hello lovelies,

So my current URL is from, oh, 3 years ago and i frankly don't like it and it's too long. So, I'm going to change it.
Therefore, to anyone who follows me (all the 2 people), I will be moving shop! I will keep you updated and let you know where you can find me next :)

*cherries and gumdrops*

Shared Secret: II

2009-08-26T18:27:00.008+09:00

This week, I'm posting two secrets. One of them is the one I'd pick if I just had to choose one (obviously) and is my preferred pick of the two... but the other one was interesting to me because it arose a question in my mind that I wanted to share and ask others.

My first pick:

Oh, the narwhal! Lovely creatures; the nautical unicorns, i'd say.

i think children have one of the clearest perspectives of the world and can teach us a lot more about it, and ourselves, than most of us realize.

My second pick:

Not sure whether this was an empowering moment for the individual, or maybe a moment that left them feeling a bit devoid, or maybe neither or somewhere in between, but it brought to mind this question of: do you think we all have a "last day" of our childhood? Some sort of end or close to that chapter and we move to the next? Or does/can one remain in that state for all their days to come?

When Sam and I were reading the secrets together, after we'd read this one, Sam said "Hm. Wonder when that day will be..." to which I replied, "If we reach it at all." For I feel that, if one chooses to, they can and will remain in their childhood; living with the eyes of a child. Which isn't to say that one wouldn't be growing... for our childhood is so heavily based on constant growth, awareness and discovery. But, of course, this question is a bit subjective-- depending on what the individual defines as "childhood."

I suppose these two picks I made are related thematically, with this idea of a child's perspective and childhood...
A place where plastic bags are kites, your bed is a mardi gras float, a tennis ball that the dog tore in half is a tiny bowl in which you prepare dinner, and your babysitter does indeed turn into a mermaid at night. where she swims with the shiniest turquoise tail and the friendliest nautical unicorns.

Shared Secret

2009-08-21T00:28:00.005+09:00

So, each Sunday I check Postsecret. (www.postsecret.blogspot.com)
I'm thinking that I'll start to pick one postcard each week that I particularly enjoyed, and share it here. Yeah, sounds fab.

Here's this weeks postcard-pick:

Wings, Petals and Leaves

2009-08-05T16:36:00.006+09:00

spine-like tree with a bright, gooey center.

pretty, mossy tree near at the entrance of a temple.

rainbow-eyed flyer on a su-gook flower, which translates to "small country."

fantasy creature, for sure.

at the Seoul Grand Park Zoo: something so dainty about a flamingo.

Crickets cricking

she swirls and smiles

the sleepy Salvia 'indigo spires'

peeking inside.

Sam and scene: Camping at the Jisan Music Fest (with our modest, lil' tent).

My friend, Howard, the acorn weevil. We hung out and he showed me his tricks, like the featured stretched-out wings move.

paint music

Armor

2009-07-08T17:35:00.004+09:00

skittering and sure

he's found it just where

lou left it.

skipping across

the 8 cracks

like horned-sheep

over deep ravines

zagging around

the sandy pebbles

like the twitch

of a fishing line

across water.

his day 36

his strength

of aged wine.

he's ready

to take on the world

with a blade of grass.

Puffed up

2009-06-22T16:52:00.005+09:00

When I woke up this morning, my right eye was nearly swollen shut. Again. I'm not sure what happens, but it's the second time.

The first time, it looked as though I was attacked by wolverine. If he were really tiny. Right eye puffed up with little scratches sketched across my eyelid and eyebrow.
This time, there weren't any scratches. There was slight brownish discoloration on the tip of my eyelid -- where one would trace eyeliner-- and the whole eye was left soft and inflated, bulging like a jelly donut hole. make it bavarian filled.

The swelling slowly subsides throughout the day and now, by 5:30 pm, I only look slightly mutated. It mostly looks scary and terrible when this happens and my eyeball feels like a pulsating, slippery bowling ball.

During my period off today, I wanted to nap in the "rest room" at school. The key was nowhere to be found, and as I was shuffling around with my one fat, retarded eye, I was eager to settle somewhere. anywhere really. I returned to my classroom, turned out the lights and hopped on top of a bookshelf in the back. I plopped flat on my back, legs dangling off the end of the shelf. Then, curled myself into a tight ball, nose nuzzled in the sleeve of my sweater. Laying there, I couldn't help but imagine what it would look like to a student if one were to walk in on me-- their one-eyed teacher, folded cozy like a roll of socks on top of a bookshelf in the back of the class. Sure, I thought, this is where most in my position would have found themselves.

I'm noticing more and more, with each day, just how much I feel like a cat. Whether it be curled on top of a bookshelf for a nap, perched & paw-tucked on Sam's chest or swatting at bugs, I frequently find myself in certain places or positions that lead to this same thought: me as a cat. I've always had an affinity for them. They're special and can have such incredible character. Not everyone gets 'em, and that okay. But the ones that get them, really understand them, know what I mean. There is a part of me that knows what it's like to be one too, I feel. And if I wasn't already one, then I hope to be one day. Or perhaps I already am.

Some puffed up kitty.

미친 (mi-chin) : crazy

2009-06-04T09:36:00.010+09:00

image from a protest in Seoul during one of the US beef (mad cow disease) protests. Note the 'mad cow' depicted here: sunflower behind ear.

I hate that, in Korea, wearing a flower in your hair symbolizes one being a crazy person.

Walk down the street with a lovely rose behind your ear-- the stunned stares that will burn, the gasps, the pointed fingers, the appalled mutters, the cackling laughter that festers in their bellies and bursts out in tiny silvery pieces, splattering on your face or back.

I had my first taste of this just 2 weeks after I'd arrived.

I'd gone to the orientation in Seoul for the new coming teachers. It was my second day there-- the day after I first met Sam.

A small group of us had taken a walk to some nearby bridge, where I saw some lil' yellow flowers sprouting here and there (commonly known as weeds. but i usually find the weeds to be some of the most beautiful.) Not surprisingly, I picked one and giddily put it in my hair. I remember Sam smiled and said "I want to be one, too!" and plunked one behind his right ear. After getting back to the orientation center for yet another lecture, one of the Korean group leaders there saw us and lost it. He was staring and stopped us, laughing, clapping his hands in amusement. He gestured towards our ears and said, "Whyyyyy??" *cue more laughing* We happily said, "They're pretty!" He said, "Crazy! Crazy people! In Korea, this means you're crazy!!" Sam and I looked at one another, shrugged... didn't get it and didn't care much. Perhaps this should've been some sign of what was to come-- some small reflection of Korea's culture and perception-- but I soon forgot about his reaction at all and what is it anyway they say about hindsight?

That was last September. Lots of flowers soon started dying after that and I guess it wasn't until they woke up again this year that I started to have more experiences like this.

I remember with the arrival of spring, my hair splashed with pretty daisies or wildflowers, I'd be going about the day and receiving plenty of glaring stares. But, this is pretty standard any ol' day. Some white girl struttin' down these little Asian streets, the old Korean ladies snarling at my exposed shoulders, or poking my thigh while waiting at a crosswalk, pointing out the sequins on my skirt. I've grown accustomed to it. But I did notice an increase in attention, especially in the head/hair area.

Just last week, Sam and I went to the rose garden nearby. On our way we found pretty yellow flowers. Picked some. Wore some. Later in the day, we're strolling through the street farmer's market when I bump into who I call 'coffeeman'. [I meet this man once a week who owns a coffeehouse with an in-house roaster. He's interested in English. I'm interested in coffee. We share some words, experiences, and one another's company.] We stop to say hi. He nods in recognition and smiles. I ask him "How's it going?" and he just looks up at sam and points at his ear. cocks his head to the side, takes a deep breath in and says "what? what?" takes another breath and shakes his head side to side "what? why? why?" I say, "oh, we went to Munsu stadium and picked some flowers and saw the roses." He says "oh, no. Crazy. This means crazy person. If you wear flower, it means you're crazy." I just thought how silly and told him, "oh, no. flowers are good and okay" He continues to laugh and stare in disbelief.

Moseyin' on, we stop in a place we call 'butterflylady'. [She's this ridiculously sweet and cute korean, maybe 28, who has a cute little boutique with all kinds of jewelry, trinkets and incense from different parts of the world. her sign outside has a butterfly on it.] When we walk in, box of raspberries in arm to give her a scoop, she immediately busts out laughing. She comes out from behind the front counter, stands right in front of us and is bent over, nearly falling down in hysterical laughter. And, of course, goes on to tell us how we're crazy. How flowers in hair is for crazy people... at this point it was just redundant-- to the point that it just started to bother me.

Next time I meet coffeeman, I ask him where this comes from-- why is it that flowers in your hair means you're crazy in Korea? He tells me (in the best way he can) that in 'ancient', there was a lady who would put flowers all in her hair and run down the streets, maniacally laughing and hitting her head. The following school day, I ask my co-teacher where this comes from. She tells me that it's because it's from the movies. In movies, crazy people have flowers in their hair. I ask one of the women at my piano academy. She tells me that it's because they grow in the ground and don't belong on your head. That it's crazy to put it there.

It seems either they don't even know why it's considered crazy, or they have many reasons why. It's hard to say. But, I'm goin' with the former. Either way... this has come to really irk me. And most definitely it's compounded by the fact that I am finding myself grow a bit tired or bitter with certain aspects of the culture. There are plenty of things I don't understand-- things I don't even agree with-- but still, I'm open. I'm flexible. I'm adaptable. I expected shifts and changes. I was immersed in a totally foreign culture, and it's part of the deal. But, flowers in the hair being a national symbol for insanity... well... i think it's... stupid.

And I start to feel even more driven to do it now. Shit, imma drown my head in dandelions! Cover my crown in cyclamens! I know that most the natives here find me to be some strange spectacle anyway, an alien life-form who speaks a menacing language... might as well appear so whilst adorned with lovely flowers. Threaded with nature's feathers and seeds.

Need a light to yours

2009-05-22T00:21:00.006+09:00

window seat busrides

spider spottin'

he soon after turned around and found me lurking, and immediately left...

the lake nearby where i bike and jog

more lake

girls and umbrellas

love with a rose

That Lady

2009-03-31T13:33:00.003+09:00

That lady sat next to me at lunch today. One of the other teachers-- although I'm not sure what she teaches. She's one of those that maybe feels like she has to talk to me, in order to make me feel comfortable or welcome or part of the loop. Or maybe she genuinely enjoys trying to communicate with me in English... but it always turns into the same conversation.

"Hello," she says quietly, bowing her head slightly as she sits down next to me.

I give a sweet "Hiii," bow head, avoid too much eye contact because I know where it can lead if I allow it.

Next will come some comment on the weather.

"Cold outside," she pieces together.

"Oh, yeah, I know!," curling shoulders in, and appearing to be grateful to have my jacket.

"I catch cold," she continues.

*cough, cough* two measly put-puts of a cough limp out of her mouth.

"Oh, really?," seemingly concerned. Which, it's not like I'm not concerned about her, but... c'mon. those coughs were somewhat pathetic. And I've learnt the dramatics of Koreans-- clear your throat and they think you've caught pneumonia; sneeze and you've got the flu; one sniff of the nose and that's it: quick! rush her to the doctor! For anything, "you must go to doctor." They'll feed you antibiotics or tylenol or sugar pills or whathaveyou. Supply you with 6 baggies all filled with 5 different pills. All different colors, different sizes and shapes. This seems very important to them-- to go to the doctor and receive medication. So, knowing this, I continue:

"Aw, I'm sorry you're sick. Do you have medicine?"

She regretfully shakes her head.

"Maybe the school nurse will have some," I suggest, trying to be helpful.

"Yes," she confirms.

It's coming. I know what's next. Do it. Comment on the food. Tell me what it is, in every language you know!

"You know this?" she says, holding up a slimy piece of red-sauce-drenched tofu between her metal chopsticks.

I take note of how skillfully she keeps that slippery sucker between her sticks, keeping it from plopping back into the pool of sauce below.

"Yeah. It's tofu," I say, confidently.

"How you say, English?"

"Tofu."

"Ta-foo?"

"Tofu."

"Spelling?"

"T-O-F-U."

"Tofu!" she exclaims.

"Yeah, tofu."

And now, she gets to the real meat of it all-- what she's been dying to tell me:

"You know in Korean... Du-bu," she says proudly.

"Dubu," I repeat.

"Aaahhhh, yes," she says and mutters queitly "Dubu"

"And this," she adds, pinching a grain of rice between her chopsticks and hovering it over my tray.

"Bap," I say. and add on the English word "rice".

"Wow! Yes. And you know, Korean, this... we say Muul-go-geeee," stabbing a piece of fish and holding it up like a discovered treasure.

I nod and repeat, "Mul-go-gee."

"English, how you say?," she asks.

"Fish"

"Aaaahhhh, yes. Fish-uh," she says, looking back to her chopstick-stabbed treasure and repeating "Fish-uh, fish-uh."

I'm free of the Korean-English translation game for a while, as we shift focus back to eating. I'm surrounded by the sounds of slucking slurps of soup, the scraping of metal chopsticks across metal trays, the guttural UUuuuughs and UUgh-ng, Uugh-ngs and ham-ni-das and keep my eyes to the kimchi. Now, I love how kind Koreans can be, and it's nice the effort they seem to put forth at times, and it's sweet the couple of words they may know in English and will faithfully recite them to you when they see you ("hello" or "cold") just as I'll say the little Korean that I know, but it's times like these that just start to irk me-- when somebody wants to tell me how to say everything in sight in Korean.
Some of it can be useful. Maybe if I wrote it down. But, I didn't ask and I will never remember all of this. They'll be shootin' one after the other, pointing to pencils and lettuce and doors and toilet paper. Or ladies like this will take lunch as an opportunity to have Heather recite the menu in Korean, when, some days, I'm screaming in my head "I don't care, lady! Why are you telling me all this drivel!"

Eyeing a new crowd of teachers making their way to plop down across from me, I finish up the mul-go-gee and the bap and the dubu and the kimchi and scoop what's left into my soup bowl. I recognize the teacher right in front of me as one that speaks a handful of English. I grab hold of my tray and start to stand up from my seat, bowing down and giving the polite "Meon-jah-gamnida" farewell to those around, when the new arrival lady makes eye contact. She motions towards me to stop and spurts out, "How?" Confused, I bend back down to meet their eye level and say "I'm sorry?" She quickly nips a piece of tofu and holds it up to my face.

"English, how you say?"
Raising the jiggling piece of tofu a little higher, she adds
"Spelling?"

Underground II

2009-03-25T20:22:00.008+09:00

one pull of this rope, i will
waken you
watch as your insides
rise
like yeast in an oven
or flowers to the sun. come
above ground. with your vessel
full, head back, suck you wet,
steady sweet
ready liquid to moisten my lips
and soften my belly

this source
unearthed.

After finding the dragon's stream

2009-03-03T00:43:00.001+09:00

we said they were like bones
the bones of the earth
pushing up from its soily nest growing
8 heads, 17 arms, 206 twigly fingers
and with its belly below, sucking
gritty water, they all stretch
out and reach up
the direction we grow
the place we instinctively look to
for a reason.

Elemental

2009-03-02T23:53:00.009+09:00

with purses in hand

outdoor class #3

down below or synapse inside

searching for dragon spring

sam's fire show: swirling dragon's head

while he's in the kitchen

Breakfast Bird

2009-02-06T14:05:00.005+09:00

I'd just woken up and was making breakfast when I saw this bird. Her name is Pat. Thought it should be documented.

Here's a picture, too.

Gung Hay Fat Choi: Year of the OX

2009-02-05T22:52:00.003+09:00

So, apparently, this is my year. It's the year of the Ox, I'm an ox... it only makes sense that this should be pretty special.

According to the Chinese zodiac, those born under the influence of the Ox are said to be:

stable, persevering, dependable, tolerant folks with a strong character... Honest, open-minded, and meticulous when it comes to their responsibilities. "Ox" folk rarely lead you down the garden path or change their minds once they've made a decision...Beneath the placid, easy-going and unpretentious exterior of the "Earth Ox" lies a heart of gold, a modest amount of ambition, and a willingness to bear heavy burdens that might overwhelm others, not to mention a strong sense of loyalty and compassion towards family and friends... Truthful and sincere...With all this going for them, it's not surprising that they might also have a few niggly, not-so-nice characteristics as well like being a titch stubborn, a teensy-weensy bit too methodical, a little feisty with a fierce sense of competition.

That sound about right? I don't know. Some of these sites report different things, but it's basically pretty similar. Although, I did come across one that said "don't expect these lumbering souls to have a sparkling sense of humor or be at all style conscious...it's not part of their precious package!" *GASP* No sparking sense of humor?? Not at all style conscious?? Well, I only hope that it's true that you can't wrap everyone up in thier own little package and leave no room for some individuality!

Plus, the fact that I'm a Wood Ox does play a factor, as well as being a Leo Wood Ox, and then being a Leo/Virgo-cusp Wood Ox at that. Yeah, it can get pretty involved. I mean, I'm not limiting or strictly holding myself to this little cut-out of a personality that's been drawn for me, but it is interesting to consider and reflect on. I understand the power of an individual, and that not one of us can be completely defined in this sense, but I do find it insightful to consider your make-up and look at some inherent characteristics or tendencies you may have, and use it as a resource just to grow from or reflect on.

So, according to some resources, this year, the Year of the Ox, will find us Oxen having an "overall improvement in his/her situation during his/her birth year... there may be some set-backs or delays, but if the Ox remains calm and persists, all will be well..." -- which seems like pretty appropriate words of wisdom for any year really.

There will always be set-backs. There will always be some delay. There will always be that something that you just did not plan for, but in reality, we can't expect to actually plan any of it.

I've never gone through life with much of a plan. I don't like this idea of planning out all the aspects of your life. Things have been pretty vague and general, and it's gotten me by. Usually I've been more aware of where I don't want to be than where I do want to be. But, even that's worked out. It's all gotten me to where I am now, which is precisely where I'm supposed to be at a time that I'm supposed to be here. So, although I've been pretty content with not having it figured out and letting it just happen naturally, I've had this nagging feeling lately. This thought that I should have it planned out. This thought that, perhaps even if not planned out, maybe I should have more of a concrete idea of the direction I'm going to focus my energy. I don't struggle so much with setting goals, as much as focusing on a particular goal at the time to invest myself into.

I just skyped with Erin about an hour ago. It was pretty funny since I was kicking back, indulging in 32 oz. of Hite (Korean beer; 2- 500 ml. I had to google it to figure out the ounces, since the US is the only country to use the US standard/imperial unit system!), and Erin was just waking up at 6:30 am, her time, getting ready to go substitute at Ascention High (I think). I must have been babbling on about some of my quasi-drunken and existential thoughts, for I remember going on quite a bit about this idea of "plans" and "what am I doing, erin?" and she told me... uhm, she said something... something like "know your limitations" or maybe it was "understand your limits" or maybe something about me and my limits and understanding that I don't have to have it all figured out. I remember she said something about her dad, at 50-something, not knowing what he's doing even next month. I'm not sure, but it felt important at the time. But she looked so beautiful, all ready to go to teach-- with her tights and boots and shiny eyeshadow and little star-stud earrings. But, what she said... it's something that I already know, that I don't have to have it all figured out... and that I never will. None of us really ever have it all figured out. And I'm okay with that.

And, wouldn't it just be so boring if we did?

So, ramalamadingdong, this year should be a good one. Yes, I'll say it'll be a good one. The Year of the Ox, for the Ox.

The Hite is gone.

The clock is ticking.

The bed is warm.

[The picture above is a stone carving of "The Ox" from the Buddhist Temple I went to yesterday.]

Morning Visitor

2009-01-26T21:47:00.004+09:00

First post in nearly 2 years. I'm on the ball, baby.

I've been in Ulsan, South Korea for a while and have been meaning to start blogging again. So, this is my attempt. To go into the first impressions and initial reactions now, 4 months after arriving, seems so delayed and sounds exhausting at the moment. Plus, those who are even reading this most-likely have heard all that stuff anyway.

Today was Chinese New Year, which is recognized and celebrated in Korea too. I was reminded of this when I woke up to someone knocking on my door. It was my landlord's wife. No surprise that it was her though, being that she's pretty much my only visitor. Disoriented and confused, as I usually am when I first wake up, I answered the door without any pants. She was wearing a pretty pink and brown Hanbok, her shiny black hair curled and pinned back, and holding out a big tray that was covered with a red, silk cloth. She uncovered the tray like a magician revealing his top hat with a bunny inside. She was excited and I was excited and it's funny the exchange that happens when each person involved can only communicate about 2 words in that situation that they'll understand. So, she had this lovely spread of yummy soup, seaweed, radish, kanpyo, shrimp, green onion egg thing, some citrus rice treats and oranges and an apple. I gasped and bowed and did the "kam-sa-ha-nida!" (thank you) and "wow" (wow) and "ma-she-so-yo" (delicious). She did the "okie, okie" (okay, okay) and "desayo" (eat/enjoy).
I sat on my floor and ate the whole thing while watching the Discovery channel's "Shanghai Bus Terminal". Then, I went right back to bed. Delight.

I'm still wearing what I woke up in. It's 10:43 p.m. That was about the most eventful part of my day. And a nice way to start the day too.
She's a sweet lady.

Around 4:23 a.m.

2007-08-03T14:14:00.000+09:00

Lately, I've been having trouble sleeping at night. The other night, while trying to fall asleep, I caught myself snoring. It wasn't like Jolt!- I fell asleep and then let out a big snorty grunt that shook my body awake. It was- I was lying there, completely awake and fully aware with my eyes closed and I started to snore. This may not seem unusual to some, but for me, a girl who does not snore when she sleeps, it is.

I was experimenting with different pitches and levels of snoring too: first, with my mouth closed, creating a higher pitched wheezing through-the-nose-and-from-the-back-of-the-throat snore. Then, with my mouth open, making a long, lower pitched, deep, from-the-pit-of-the-stomach snore. After a while, my throat started to get really scratchy and dry. So, I stopped. It was then, while sipping from the glass of water by my bed, that I realised this wasn't the first time I've consciously done this. While lying there on my left side, facing the wall, I envisioned there was someone next to me, a man, and it was actually him that was snoring. I really enjoyed that thought, and it was soothing. I didn't mind him snoring one bit. Then, I envisioned it really was me snoring and there was someone on the other side hearing it. I liked that thought too (but not as much because my throat would get all dry keeping that up all night and it's just too much effort. When I sleep, I want to put the least amount of energy into it as possible.)

So, the snoring session was nice for a little while, imagining not going to sleep in a full-size bed alone (which, btw, I am so grateful to be using right now, rather than my previous dinky, twin-size, springy hell mattress). So yes, it was nice for a bit. Then I was thirsty. Then I was sad... which usually makes me tired. I suppose I fell asleep soon after because when I woke up the next morning, it was the last thing I remembered from the night before.

Late Night with Tom Bosley

2007-07-19T16:42:00.000+09:00

It's amazing just how entertaining and, at times, enthralling they can be. And so sneaky- creeping up on you late at night when you're all groggy and desperate for something. Anything! Your friends are sleeping, the internet has lost all of its spice, the Oreos are nearing their crumbly, sad end, suki, the cat, wants nothing to do with you- only that damp bathroom mat will please her and you don't actually have cable (just some contraption involving a wire and a coke can) so your options are limited. Or maybe it's just me. But man, ain't nothing like Infomercials.

Now, catching one with a friend or two, this can be good times for at least 30 minutes. Maybe longer. Oh, the witty remarks, the whimsical humor, the brilliant comments, the possibilities! But, if one grabs you while you're alone... things can get dangerous. I have often found myself thinking: well, I don't have anything that can make salsa, smoothies, mousse and sorbet so quickly and easily... and my god! a chocolate mini-cake in 5 minutes! Now usually, I overcome this moment of weakness and dig myself out of the consumer-hole they dug for me. However, I am ashamed to admit, this is not always the case.

About 4 years ago I was flipping through the channels 'till I came across some chubby little man with dark-rimmed glasses and wearing all denim, of course. I don't remember his name but I do know Tom Bosley was there and they were offering their "huge SMC warehouse at my service." I mean, I could make BIG profits selling products- products that "practically sell themselves"... we're talkin hundreds, maybe thousands, of dollars. And for me, a broke college student at some lonely hour in the night, this sounded like the way to go! I actually called to get my "business" going. And right when I woke up the next morning, I thought: Uhhhhh... what? This is lame, and immediately called to cancel. It's sad, but true.

Surely, I'm not the only one with these moments. A girl at work today reminded me of this. We'll call her Janie.
Janie: "Hey, does anyone want a Bowflex?"
Other guy we'll call Matt: "Yeah right, I heard what you're trying to sell it for."
Janie: "Well, for you, I'll give you my special price of $900"
Matt: [laughs] "Think I'll pass."
Janie: "C'mon. I paid like $1500 for it!"
Matt: "Why do you have a Bowflex anyway?"
Janie: [sighs] "I don't know. It was late one night. I think I was drunk or high and this stupid infomercial came on."
Matt: "Well, I do alot of stupid things when I'm drunk but I never go and think 'hey, I think I'll buy a Bowflex!'" The only thing on my mind when I get that drunk is guacamole."
Janie: "Shut up. Plus, I think I was high... and I always start to feel fat when I'm high."

So, I learned a lesson today: I'm definitely not the only one. Also, Matt likes guacamole. And furthermore, it's best to watch these sorts of programs with supervision because unless there's a friend by your side to make fun of it with, the Turbo-cookers, Magic Bullets, Billy Mays doodads and Tony Little Gazelles just may start to look like a necessary addition to your little life.