Tuesday, March 24, 2009


The first Korean word I learned was (my spelling) piante, pronounced a lot like picante salsa. Piante means... pervert.

Last night I got into a taxi after visiting David, my mooning student who is hospitalized for several bad stomach viruses. I got the usual questions, where are you from, what do you do, how old are you, and then they took a turn. They turned to, are you married, when are you getting married, and then he started talking about his son. I thought, aw, that's cute, he's either trying to find his son someone or just misses him since he's gone off to serve in the military.

Then the conversation turned again, this time to soju, how beautiful I am, and despite my questions pertaining to his wife, he insisted on asking where I live several times, making sure I took his phone number, and telling me I definitely need to call him when I was out drinking. He was so concerned about this that he neglected to listen to my directions and the situation nearly got out of hand. I guess it worked in his favor, though, because I threw a $10 at him and hopped out of the cab, hurrying to the safety of arms galbi.

It was the end of a really long day. I regret not having a quiet day this weekend, because I am still spent. I had an awesome time Saturday night (obviously, hehe), and really enjoyed shopping with Hannah all day Sunday--just need to make time for myself. ... Today, though, there is a field trip. Sigh.

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