Swollen Face, Tired Hair

As opposed to simply telling me that I looked like I hadn't slept in three days like they usually do, a couple of my students decided that today was the day to get creative. The first asked me why my face was "swollen", and the second advised me that I had "tired hair". The first laughed at the second and informed her that the hair comment was rather rude. The swollen face comment? Totally acceptable, apparently.

Honestly, being told that I look like an exhausted bag of crap every day, even on those rare occasions that I don't, doesn't really bug. It bores. I do often look like a tired bag of crap. Given how little I try to appear otherwise, I'm quite okay with this. I just wish that I could train the few students that are still stuck on this point to say more interesting things. As it is, they mean well, so I smile and nod; a boring response.

Sometimes, Korea is Magical.

As I posted the other day, I lost a couple important pieces of plastic over the weekend. I suspect that they fell out one of the times that I clunked my wallet on the bar Friday night, or possibly when I was throwing it around in a taxi shortly thereafter. Either way, dumb.

I don't ever lose things.

I've never lost my passport.

Or my driver's licence (largely because I don't drive).

I've never lost my cell phone.

Or my wallet (except for those two times that I left it at the library. I was 14 and a world away, so this doesn't count).

I've never lost anything that matters.

This was out of character. I'm tempted to say that this is kind of carelessness is why I stopped drinking in the first place, but really, I didn't lose a single personal belonging that time that I fell on my head, and that was much stupider. I don't lose things. I just don't. It's a control thing. Or maybe I'm possessive; it's true, I don't even take my purse off at work. Let's just say it's some form of Crazy and let it be.

While the bank card is the less important of the two, they wouldn't issue me another unless I showed them my Alien Registration Card. Fair enough. Seeing as I didn't have that either, this was inconvenient.

Then, magic happened.

Late this evening, I received a text from work that my bank card had turned up in Sajik. I was nowhere near Sajik. Somebody found my card, either in a taxi, a bar, or wherever, held on to it all weekend, and took the time to turn it into my bank the next business day. Then, the bank used the card to pull up my file, contact my school, and detail how I could go about retrieving it.

Of course that happened.

Much thanks is owed to whichever individual or business is responsible for this. I'll add this one to the Things That Would Never Happen at Home file.

My Contract Extension: is it March yet?

I feel like pizza, but the closest pizza place to my apartment is a 10 minute walk. 15, if I miss the lights, which I would. If I hadn't been too lazy to brush up on my pizza-ordering vocabulary, I'd order in. Of course, I was. I'm contemplating relearning it. The pizza hole that is my stomach will undoubtedly desire to be filled at least a few more times over the next four and a half months. Still, lazy. I need more incentive.

This is the week that I'm supposed to sign my contract extension. This is the weekend that I lost my Alien Card. These are not compatible events. I seem to think I need one thing for the other to process. It will work itself out, as these thing do.

Why extend my stay in a place where I have previously stated that I no longer want to be? The alternative, Ontario in January, is balls. Cold. Inhospitable. Few places hiring. Even the temp agencies are dried up at that time. March. I can tolerate March. It will probably still snow, because Ontario's bitchy like that, but it could be worse: January. My most hated month comes to Busan, too, so this isn't my only reason. There's also the obvious: I don't actually hate it here. I merely hate many, many things about Here. That's the story Anywhere.

The Plan is to return to Ontario in March. For a month. Then, once I've properly healed, I'll be ready to resume a love-hate relationship with Somewhere Else. I'm thinking Japan, Turkey, or Oman.

Select Weekend Musings

• Faces are hard. Don't hit them. Should you insist on hitting one, and it belongs to a drunk fellow, make sure that he stays down after you hit him. Otherwise, whoops.

• A family holiday spent in the back of a packed bar, in the company of near-strangers, is roughly as unstimulating as I imagined it.

• It's easy to make friends here. Making friends that not only accept every last neurotic characteristic I have to offer, but realize those are the things which make me Me? Less easy. It sucks when people leave.

• I spent two years trying to redefine myself, only to realize that there was nothing wrong with the original definition. Regression or growth through acceptance? To be determined at a later date.

• If I believed in that sort of thing, I'd be thankful to the guardian angels who were looking over me this past weekend. As it stands, I will just thank the stars instead.

Happy Chuseok.