WWTD?

Do you remember the WWJD craze? Everyone would wear a bracelet in a variety of bright hues that had WWJD etched in, reminding them to think through their choices and rationalize their decisions based on what Jesus would do?

I too look to a higher power when making hard decisions about life. Though my idol is a far cry from a religious figure he is now in his 50s and still rocking a six pack. The rational and level headedness with which my shepherd guides his tiny flock is the reason why his few followers are so devout. From an early age I have been conditioned to follow a thought process that mirrors one of my father, who happens to be the greatest man to have actually walked the earth.

SO what would Tato do? I think that question should be rephrased to – What has he already done?

My dad has many accomplishments that others would drool over and aspire to write on their resume. Though I mostly know about his “office” through yearly “take your daughter to work” days I know that his job is one that requires a lot of intellect (read: PhD) and reasoning power(read and cringe: math), and comes with the title of “Crack Analysis Specialist”. The man also works out during his lunch break after eating the lunch that my mom has been packing him for the past 20 years.

Outside of work he is also always busy with handyman projects and hobbies. Building a bed or installing marble counter tops is his idea of fun on a Saturday afternoon. Cooking has also become an increased interest to the delight of the taste buds and noses of the entire neighborhood. I think renaissance man would be the appropriate term to describe him.

I may have overlooked the minor fact, a tiny milestone in my development, that he had a huge role in undertaking—moving our family from Ukraine. A bold move that I believe, no…I know, changed the trajectory of my opportunities and pretty much redefined my existence in this world.

Bold move indeed. But it was not the first nor last. One thing that inspires while simultaneously scares me about my father is that he is able to take risks. Massive, bold and high stakes where there is a likelihood of massive failure. I remember as a young girl sitting on the couch and thinking why he bothered to do those things, why he wasn’t happy just living the life at a neutral pace. I think I even asked him how he could keep steady nerves while taking such large gambles. His reply was way over my head at that point but I think I somewhat understand it now… “so if I don’t then what…then I am just sitting and waiting and I will think back about what I could have done, at least this way I can think about how I tried”

Recently, I was reminded of my youthful thoughts when writing a letter asking to change my home stay. I had realized that I had been a person who makes the best of things within the confines of their situation, accepting things as they are and just working towards happiness inside the box. It wasn’t until that letter that I joined my father outside of the box, instead of making the situation work I was now the person who changes the situation completely. It felt strange yet very empowering.

I am thankful, grateful and forever in debt to him for his checkmate choices, using everything in his arsenal to play the game and secure the king. A parallel emotion that accompanies those kindhearted feelings is a hunger to have my own stab at it.

It meaning LIFE.

The most memorable words from my father are as follows “It is the children’s job to be better than the parents” this simple phrase has been the fuel behind my fire ever since it escaped from his lips. When I think about the opportunities he has given me; the priceless gifts of education, travel and understanding of multiple cultures I am sometimes left scratching my head about how I can actually surpass his accomplishments.
As a youngster I heard him tell stories of punching buckets of sand to work up calices on his hands so he could break boards in Karate. Then I became a black belt and state champ myself. I marveled at how he learned languages like Polish by simply reading books and I feel like I will never stop trying to speak in tongues or trying to keep the old ones afloat in my head. I watched him coach my brother’s roller hockey team and then felt the joys of coaching (and domination) myself as I lead my crazy 5th and 6th graders to the Championship softball game. His PhD is currently matched only by my masters but I am in no way done adding letters to my name. Because he made me run barefoot very damn morning of my elementary years I now make a conscious choice to work out and run to stay fit.

There are probably many more examples of what I have seen him do and then attempted to mimic in my own way. One thing that I will never be able to recreate, no matter how hard I work is a certain look that my father has. It is a distinguishing feature much like his height or his calf muscles or overly exposed abdomen that have been burned into my memory banks. However, unlike the characteristic I just mentioned it is not useful for spotting him from afar at the mall but it is a physical feature that for me defines who he is. My dad has a way of smiling with only his eyes that is the single most rewarding expression I have experienced. It is hard to describe because it is as simple and subtle as it is frequent. Little wrinkles- crows feet-erosions of the face appear around the eyes and they tell me that he knows more than he is letting on. I can’t help but smile when I see his eyes posed in that position as he holds back all other emotion from his face.

So what would Tato do? He would smile with his eyes and pick the next activity to master. Thus I must too trudge on and tackle increasing challenges until I have my own offspring to set an incredibly high bar for and smile with my eyes wishing them success.

I can't function in this cold.

TODAY IS SO COLD.

Last night I went to an interesting and highly entertaining drum show (Korea's 4th national treasure- a drummer man, was performing) followed by a delightful evening filled with delicious food (italian- a place called napoli with a chef from napoli) making some new Chinese friends and befriending the wife of Matt Miller's principal. The atmosphere was splendid and I was so happy to be in great company and share interesting conversations as well as perform an awkward yet video taped version of "The itsy bitsy spider" for the entire crowd. I want more evenings like that. Very classy.

Also, it is bitter cold. My jacket is stabbed through multiple times by the jaws of winter as the needle wind takes illegal jabs at my face. Make it stop. Vietnam is supposed to be in the 30 degrees which is better than my 1 degree here in DAEGU.

I have devoured an entire bag of cheerios cereal in three sittings.

My love for TV has resurfaced and I watched 10 episodes of Modern Family in one afternoon (this storyline parallels the one of my cheerio eating fests)

I still have to purchase a flight from vietnam to thailand and pack.

IT IS SO FRIGIDLY UNBEARABLY COLD THAT I WILL DIE if I don't hide under my blankets and cling to my heated mattress from the time I get home from school until I have to wake up the next morning. That is what ARizona weather has done to me. It has made me soft.

I am in love.

I am beginning to realize that I have fallen in love. It is scary. It is somewhat unexpected, yet I cannot deny the feeling of my insides bubbling over with happiness.

The object of my relentless love does not have a name. Actually, there are about 240 names (120 that were given to them at birth and 120 that they picked 4 months ago) that bring me absolute bliss. This overwhelming happiness I have found is with the 6th grade class of BukDaegu Elementary school. This is the most simple, caring and heartwarming relationship I have been in and I am sad that it has to come to an end in 4 short weeks.

Having been a teacher before I know how the game is played. You just cannot help but find a few special students that you click with and then share an extra tight bond with them. The first year of teaching this came in three forms- a set of 8th grade twins from Cuba who I absolutely adored and treated as younger brothers. A 7th grade scrawny little punk who I wanted to adopt and raise "right". The last was a 4th grader who had such an incredibly hard time with anything school related but erupted daily with a bright laugh and a cup-full outlook on life that it was impossible to think a negative thougth about him.

The second year was same same but different, I had strong bonds with a few of my students, and ofcourse I loved them dearly, but the passion wasnt quite as overwhelming as the first year. So now, to my surprise, I have a "first year" romance all over again, and I am quite smitten. The difference in Korea is the quantity of students who I have become close with. The sheer number of warm smiles and hellos I receive in a given day outnumers the good times I had at Bici by a thousand. And the quality is different too. There is more innocence in these kids. There is also a million times more respect and they are grateful for my presence, which makes me work harder to compile educational yet fun lessons. Its really a win-win all around.

Last Wednesday something spectacular happened. My birthday party was attended not only by my brother, who flew from the states to see me, but also 100 of my closest 6th grade buddies. We played games, shouted, ran around, ate lollipops, and took pictures of my brother. The energy in the auditorium was positive beyond my expectations. I could not have been happier or more grateful at that time. Everything I love- brother, students, co-teacher together in one place having fun. It was a thrill for me to watch their faces and hear their excitement as they interacted with Olen. It was like a love potion that kept working it's magic long after we cleaned up the balloons and happy birthday sign, they had all written me small cards and some had brough small trinkets as gifts. Those gestures took the day to another level and I spent an hour in my room reading their notes and sometimes breaking out in laughter though more frequently shedding tears of gratefulness.

The love did not stop there, I met with some of the most amazing people later in the night for delicious soju and then a round of beer. Afterwards, I third wheeled it with my brother and his girlfriend at three daegu favorites- MK Club, G2 and Pasha. In all, my 24th birthday was indeed golden and filled with an incredible amount of love. I am so thankful that I have all the people in my life who made that day so special.

Now back to the love story. I do not think that the special relationship can be completely explained by the fact that the 6th graders and I were born 12 years apart- making us part of the same star sign. But I think the rational of my co-teacher is somewhat valid in the sense that there is a mystical essence about this group that makes the relationship so easy. I also treasure its fragileness because there are few moments in life when you can re-live your first romance and since I am finding that special "first year teacher" love again for the second time I know its true value.

Again, I love love love what I do and I love love love the people who I do it with and that may make me the most love infused person in the world.
Thank you.

novels in 25 words.

1. The name is Pat. Body and face are worthless clues. Other playground mothers wonder, "Is it a boy or a girl."

2. Unwrapping the bandages unveils a sinking feeling. Cup size may change, but the self-loathing cannot be removed with a skilled hand wielding a surgeon's knife.

3. The fingers and toes were much smaller than she expected. Incredibly real, she could see the thumbprint, throbbing red. She quickly closed the lid.

4. He came home to a smashed windshield and his personal possessions littering the sidewalk. The watch was stopped at 12:53, indicating when she found out.

Shoe tying manual for three year olds.

There is one thing you should know…and that is how to tie a pair of shoes.

1.The first and possibly trickiest part is to actually determine which shoe will be placed upon each foot. A good trick for those who struggle with this task is to look for the portion of the shoe that is slightly rounder and taller than the rest of the shoe and slip the big toe into the shoe so it aligns with this special cavity in a way that the big toe sits comfortably inside.

2. Next is a step that is rarely mentioned. It is the tightening of the laces so the foot inside the shoe is left with no wiggle room. Encase the foot inside the shoe as an ancient Egyptian would embalm a mummy in yards of linen. Do not use resin however to permanently attach the foot to the shoe as you will at some point want to take it off. Just grasp the laces, one in each hand, and pull towards your body. Be sure to keep a firm grip on the laces as you pull to avoid a black eye. This is a common side effect of shoe tying. It is the result of an over exuberant yank that releases the laces and propels the arm into the eye socket with uncharted and unexpected momentum.

3. When the foot is snug inside the shoe you will want to cross the laces across the top of the shoe. Take care to make this a symmetrical and precise cross. Some have invested in a protractor to insure the angle of the cross is at exactly 90 degrees. Also be sure that half of the remaining shoe lace is on one side and the other half is on another. Anything less will result in a shoe that is not fit to walk in.

4. Once perfect equilibrium is restored in the shoe lace department you may begin to tuck one end of the string underneath the cross and pull it securely through. In most cases the right side is favored to make the journey underneath the cross. However, if you happen to enjoy taking walks on the wild side do attempt to pull the left side of the shoe lace string through. CAUTION: the world may end.

5. If you have successfully pulled either side of the shoe string underneath the cross and the apocalypse was not triggered, you may continue on to the next step and tighten the strings once again. The grip should be as tight as the one you administered in step 2, however now you will be pulling to the sides of your body. In this case, it is wise to steer clear of the groins of those around you as they may be injured should your hand slip from the shoe lace and uncontrollably swing upwards.

6. When finished tightening form “bunny ears” with the shoe laces on either side of the show. Cross the bunny ears and loop one through the inside and then tighten. This part is easy so no further explanation is necessary.

7. Congratulate yourself, you are finished.

Without this most basic of skills you cannot move about in life. You will be unable to stroll through a maple syrup colored pile of leaves while your grandson kicks them up and then comes crashing down on them with both feet. You cannot stand on the podium and deliver your acceptance speech as mayor. Without tied shoes, no one will be able to dance at your wedding and you would not have been able to chase down the thief who stole the purse of off the shoulder of the lady who you will eventually marry. Kicking the soccer ball into the top right corner of the net will also prove impossible, thus so would winning that State Soccer Championship. It is difficult to enjoy the submarine dive that a laced up boot makes into a freshly laid pile of snow, without a laced up boot. And how are you supposed to attempt your first walk down the steps of your apartment building without holding your mother’s hand if you shoelaces are wobbling about untied? So little three year old, work on this skill. On the surface it may seem trivial and trite…but as you see, if there is only one thing that you need to know, it is how to tie a pair of shoes.

Run like the wind...or like Captain Picard

So I will admit that one of the most guilty and nerd-alerting pleasures I had as a child was watching Star Trek with my family. I was all about The Next Generation. Data was certainly the most interesting character and I had a crush on the young dude who's mom was the ship doctor...his name escapes me at the moment but the love still burns deep.

Thus it is no surprise that when I saw a Star Trek book laying on my father's side of the bed when I was in say 8th grade I picked that sucker up and starting indulging in a story about a young Captain Picard who was full of teen angst and contemplation. In the book, some of the best narratives were from when the man with the shiniest head is show business was running through his native country of France and looking around the countryside. I explicitly remember a line that made me feel like I could never be as cool as cap' because he talked about a sudden re-surgance of power, a rejuvination of sorts when he passed a certain physical barrier while running. There was a point he described when the soreness and the aching was gone and the body the ran on a fuel other than calories.

This was such an inspiring piece because I wanted very much to have the wisdom, boldness and charisma that the captain carries himself with. I saw the difference between himself and me being his ability to push through and run past that magical point when the pain of the run went away. Seeing that I had always had a mental block that stopped me from running, self-sabotaging myself whenever I came to a certain point, always allowing myself to quit before I really got anywhere I felt like attaining that point in running was not in my deck of cards. I thought that I would continue this love-hate relationship with running until I literally ran out of time.

Fortunately, today, I proved to myself that it is not so. I somehow managed to unclog all the self-administered blockades and just run run run. I was surprised that I got to 38 minutes, and then, the magical moment hit. My lungs were fine, not on fire like I expected them to be. My legs, well, they were sore, but they didn't feel like stopping, my legs wanted to run. Any my arms, they were also content at pumping away for what seemed like could turn into eternity. I was actually quite shocked at this revelation, so I kept on going. I ran for an hour. I did not think I could ever say that sentence and not be playing two truths and a lie. But upon reaching that magical point that I had read about in a Star Trek book so long ago I found that I could indeed be like Captain Picard. I think I will apply to Starfleet Academy in the morning. :)

Calling all cool people!!!

Dear lovers

I had a thought. I miss you people dearly and skype/facebook do not do us justice. So lets get real here. I am proposing a way to stay connect with those of you ladies who are super super far away and those who are just far away from me at the moment. I want to try this with those of you who are willing and able to play in this game.

I have found myself experiencing many cool things in my Korea experience but missing the opportunity to talk about it at lenght with people of the same caliber of conversational ability. Lets just say my Korean sucks and not many Koreans with english ability want to talk about the pros and cons of their education system. At the same time I feel like you are also going through many cool life changes and learning a lot of life lessons and I want to share in that growth as well.My idea is for a blog that is similar to the plot of the "julie and julia" movie, where she has a set amount of time to finish something. The twist is that I want to send you a package once a month with something that made me say "wow" or threw me for a loop and I would like to recieve the same in return. Then, in true 2010 fashioin, we must blog about it.

This is a hard thing to explain so let me try with an example. Say one month I go to a temple stay and learn about buddhist culture and perhaps find enlightenment. Ill send you some buddhist prayer beads and an account of my experiences. You ponder how this experience may or may not fit into your life and what you may have gained by going on such an excursion. In turn, maybe you went to a cool bazaar or read a great book or found a new hobby, tried a new food...send me a snippit of that experience and reveal to me what you got out of it. Not everything has to be super exotic, but I think it will be a cool way to reach out and still be involved with each other's lives.

Here is my address: I am looking forward to seeing what pops up on my doorstep!
Olenka Lenets
대구 북구 산격 2동 양우아파트 101동2001호

Rain cleansed my Seoul

So I finally saw a Kpop Concert. It was spectacular, I loved every minute of it. I also loved the cheerful and alcohol-ful crowd of peers I hung out with. The open container laws do not exist here and so we had many hours of waiting we filled with shot taking. There was also a time during which my partner in crime that night- Jenna and I scaled a fence, ran around the track of the Olympic stadium and made our way into the VIP area to catch the best acts at ultra close range. Did I mention the entry was free? Did I also mention the whole evening was surreal and badass?

On the way to Seoul I had some time (I'm talking 4 hours here) to fill so I wrote an entry in my journal that I intended to retype, it's more of a thinker than an entertainment piece so feel free to skip it and look at my updated photo album instead because I posted videos and pictures of RAIN! HOLY SHIT RAIN!!!!

Title-- Standing Room: Lost in Thoughtnation
Current location: Globally speaking I am in route from Daegy to Seoul. About 2 hours in the 4 hour and 5 minute trainride on the Mugunghwa train. This is the slowest train tacking on an extra 2 hours and 15 minutes to the "bullet" like KTX train time of something just under 2 hours.

Also, I am currently positioned on the floor, near the rubber accodian thing that keeps two traincars from smashing the shit out of each other when the train makes stops or takes a "sharp" curve. I occsionally have to give up my seat as people pass or get on or off the train, but I've claimed my territory pretty well so no one tries to move into my staked-out spot while those transitions are happening.

I had originally opted to use the machine and buy myself a KTX ticket. While waiting and eating spoonfulls of peanut butter a station worker approached ever so expectedly, asked me where I was from and without missing a Korean beat commented on my overwhelming beauty. Once that was out of the way I thought I would ask about my ticket. I paid 40,800 which i standard fare for KTX. One can only make that table cheaper by purchasing a "table" ticket which is exactly what it sounds like a table on the train with four seats around it. Leg room is a little crunched but for 25 won a pop (which is 100 won for the table for those of you who do not enjoy simple math) it is a sweet deal and my most preferred way to travel. But back to the story. I had to purchase the KTX because the slower train is usually sold out. I have not wanted to try the ticket people but since the station attendant talked to me first, I figured he was bored enough to spend the extra time to deal with my poor Korean skills.

Thus, the train I am taking now has a LOT of people, mostly the young rebellious type (though there is an older man in a suit ballin with us cool kids), using the standing oom option. The cost is a very reasonable 16,200 won and the experience is priceless. Im not saying that this is the way Im going everywhere from now on, but knowing that getting to Seoul is cheaper than my taxi ride from the Phantom of the Opera last night is a good feeling. Right now Im crouching next two college age dudes with spectacular style. One of them is attempting coyly to decipher what Im inking. Good luck buddy!!

The business man and hisundoubtably real Gucci loafers and swanky leather bag is not pleased to be standing so close tothe bathroom and periodically having 3 year olds scuffup his kicks, but I am amused. I think the main difference between the seats and the standing room is that the latter has to be alert. When Koreans et on trains someone hits the magical internal snooze button they are all born with and everybody passes out. You can hear a pindrop if you open the sliding door to the compartment and the conductors even walk around and tell you to be quiet.

Standing room is a different ballgame. You have to be alert, but still quiet. This leads peple to be pensive. Several round me are brooding, one main is definately fantasizing and a handful are planning. One woman deliberates as the young child who's hand she is holding painfully counts the minutes of maybe seconds when they can unclock of this silence and be a typical screaming Korean toddler. By having the luxury of blissful mindless sleep removed from the equation, standing room passengers are forced to think and be preset minded, yet quiet, perhaps some unwanted contemplations arrise on an occassion that allows thoughts to wander to the sound of a creeking zxel and a thrashing rubber thingy.

Photocontest entry.

I love this picture not for what it looks like but for what it represents. In the image itself you see the majesty of the Haeinsa Temples: intricate carvings, beautiful banners flapping in the wind and a light mist rising over the surrounding mountainside are simply breathtaking and few reminders of the fact that it is 2010 actually exist. The real treat for me however is the monk who is taking, what I am assuming is, his laundry out in a basket. The casual way he goes about his business, a chore of daily living, makes me realize how different and perhaps opposite my interpretation of the temples are in comparison to him. This is his life, his job, his norm and for me it is the first time seeing something so spectacular. While he is simply doing laundry I am busy accumulating pictures and memories to make the most out of the experience. This duel perception can be expanded to my whole experience in Korea. Up until the point of taking this picture I was seeing the world through a tourist lens, almost for the purpose of checking off points of interest on a “must see” list. This made me realize however that this is more than just a photo-opportunity. The real experience of Korea is watching the interactions of the people within their natural environment (no matter how exotic it is for me), in a place they simply call their home.

sooo...there IS a downside.

So let me just say first that there are many many upsides to being a "waygook" or foreigner in Korea. Automatically you are told that you are beutiful and most people want to interact with you and show you Korea in a positive light so you are gifted with apples, ramen or free drinks at the bar.

Another upside is that you can get away with things because you are an American- getting on a faster train "accidentally" is only met with a slight wave of hand if even confronted at all. It also allows for a certain "free pass" when dealing with cultural issues.

But, this weekend I have also come to experience the negatives of the extra attention and the constant state of confusion I live in when interacting with my host family. I was told the family was going hiking on the mountain where their temple is located and invited to join. Knowing that it would be a good portion of my Sunday spent underneath beautiful changing leaves and an incredible view I could think of nothing better and immediately said yes. It was told to me on the car ride over that 25 to 30 other people would be joining us and we would all eat at the mountain- great, the explains the lack of breakfast as well as removes the permenatly attached host sister (parasite) from my arm (this is what I am thinking on 3 hours of sleep...a friend and I had danced it up until 6am the morning of the trip and I was woken up promptly at 9 am to get a move on). Once we arrive the family meets up with the employees of my host father's business and we begin a meal of stewed chicken and what else- kimchi...I notice the soju and beer being brought out but only thnk to myself that the men will have a hard time hiking if they drink this early (10 am). The meal is cleared and now the crowd is moving outside to a volleyball/soccer game. I am indeed the honorary guest so my host dad picks me for his team and i play the front position. Im actually not horrible at the game and it is a lot of fun. Our team loses but not after my host dad crowns me "homerun king" for kicking the ball too hard--over the fence too hard.
Alright, we should be moving on to the hiking portion of the day right? I wish, everyone goes back inside and the men get a few more rounds of beer and soju and the kids start up the "naerebang" machine which is basically karaoke. Hmmm....beautiful day outside.....people drinking.....kids getting comfy near the tv....why R WE NOT HIKING? My host mom informs me in korean that we will only be at the restaurant that day and it will be night when we go home. Alright, well, lets make the best of it, I sit and watch the kids for a while but they suck and I am bored beyond tears. I literally did not bring anything but clothing, not even my phone, because I was told HIKING!!!
About an hour of killing time later I ask my host mom if I can still go hiking by myself, she gives me the whole - I am worried spiel- and then hands me her cell phone and gives me two hours on the clock--I am off!
The nature is beautiful and it has been WHILE since I saw changing leaves in such capacity and quantity. At this moment the frustration of the whole hiking fiasco wears off and a calm that only strolling through nature can ignite has soothed me.
Upon arrival back at camp Awesome at the foot of the mountain I realize that NO ONE HAS MOVED THE ENTIRE TIME I WAS GONE. However, the men have certainly not wasted time getting hammered. I take back the fact that one one moved...one man is propped up with cusions on the floor where he passed out drunk.
This is where the real fun begins, when the drinking had not begun yet my foreigner status was something that had kept the men of the group at bay--they were probably too shy to say hello or make a mistake speaking english. Luckily for them, the beer has lowered their inhibitions to the point where they do not mind making English mistakes and don't really care if they make an ass of themselves approaching me.
In the hour that followed I had multiple unsolicited papparazzi photoshoots, one dude (who had a bloody nose from falling over drunk) kept shaking my hand, another kept trying to drag me off places and motioning me to come over. Nunchi was the thing that kept me from screaming in their face.
However, hostmom did not have her nunchi on that day, she did not read that situatioin as unconfortable for me and certainly didn't do much to stop them. I also explicitly went up to her and said- "I DONT LIKE THIS". her brilliant response "ME TOO"
Well, I MEAN, you speak Korean and can tell them to leave me alone or something....I do not have to meekly partake in this foreigner hounding. Finally a sweet pregnant wife of one of the workers told the man to stop coming over and to leave me alone. They got the hint, presented me with a bag of apples and left.
After the amazing "HIKING" experince they all went to eat dinner. I stayed in the car and slept. I told my co-teacher today about the event and she is supposed to make a phonecall tonight. We shall see what happens.

It's time for another piercing.

In the past weeks I've traveled to Busan, had fish eat the dead skin off my feet, went to Jinju for a few hours to check out a lantern festival, traveled to Seoul for the 60th anniversary of Fulbright and also attended a conference in Gwangju.

I think I have hit the point in my stay where I can still take pleasure in festivals and enjoy the new places I visit, but at the same time the "newness" has worn off and I can tell you exactly what kind of chicken soda cups the festival will be serving up and the booths start to look the same.

One thing about Korea that makes me fascinated is the hype and importance that is given to events that probably don't deserve that type of attention. For example, we practiced for hours at a time for the Fulbright song that plays for approximately 2 minutes and the audience wasn't even able to hear us over the piano. Keep in mind the the performance was prefaced with a 7 course dinner with included WINE and thus many of my chorus companions had to focus more on the act of standing than on hitting the F Flat. But an overwhelming amount of importance was put on the song during the practice. Epic Fail.

Another illustration of this phenomenon is that my school had a relay race with another school. The race lasted exactly 2 minutes and 4 seconds but the event began right after lunch (noon) and when I had to leave at two forty the students were still anticipating the race. There were camera's, the students wore shirts that were especially designed for the event. A troop of 4th graders danced in age-inappropriate outfits to age-inappropriate songs using ...you guessed it, rather age-inappropriate moves. A band came with drums and they had moved the students around the field and positioned them in probably 4 different location. If this had been done at my school in Glendale, someone would have started a fight and maybe 40% of the students would have ditched. The Korean students managed to keep up their enthusiasm and do and re-do the wave until the principal was satisfied with the way it looked on camera. So the ability for a small relay race to turn into a 3 hour event WHILE STILL MAINTAINING CONTROL is a miracle that can only happen in Korea.

One of the presenters we had at a conference told us of the cycle that one goes through when entering a new culture. The honeymoon period is the first, everything is new and exciting, then comes rejection, there is a fourth one but I do not remember it so we will pretend there are only three. I think I have past the honeymoon and I do not foresee myself rejecting very much about Korea, but there is a stage of frustration that certainly comes on from time to time. I still don't know how to work the bus system efficiently and have to spend 30 minutes on the internet figuring out where in the world i have to get on because even though most things in Korea make very logical sense having a bus stop at each bus stop apparently does not. Another thing that Koreans do not like is having street names. I have no clue about where I actually live street wise and rely on the note that my hostmom wrote for me the first week I was here that tells the taxi drivers where I belong, it is like an adult doggie tag.

This weekend I have felt a surge of restlessness and my patience was tested. I have not had this frustration due to a lack of control of a situation in quite a while. I unfortunately let it get the best of me and had it not been to a stop we made in a beautiful park I would have been spitting hellfire at the next person who crossed my path. However I escaped the weekend with a super cool free new jacket that is perfect for traveling, presents for my parents and another trip to the VIP area at a club. There is still a slight resignation of gripe lingering inside me and though I have talked it out and now typed it out, it seems there is only one way to release the negative energy--get pierced. I can clearly link the need to do something impulsive and edgy when I have an internal knot that no deep breath can untangle. Right now the frustration is coming from my inability to do things myself that I would have been able to do in America.

SO MOM, Do not hate me, but I am getting either dermal or something else in the ear. :)

Off to some Kpop dance class and a 5k run.

Working on my fitness

So now that I've become pretty comfortable at school and have a slight idea about my current surrounding I wanted to share my stories of the Korean GYM.
First off, the gym is expensive. 10 mon won (translating to 100 dollars a month)gets me access to classes such as yoga, kpop dance and stretching as well as full access to a rather small but nice set of gym machines, eliptical, bikes, and set of weights and never has the same two weights in the same place. I also enjoy the attention of 3 personal trainers that are on the floor at all times, usually just greeting members as they walk in but also swarming me when I come in to help me work out and also selfishly practice their English. I doubt that knowing about how my weekend was as anything to do with my abdominal workout, but it is very amusing to hear them try.
I get shouted at "ABDOMINALS IMMEDIATELY" or "POSE" he means "PAUSE" but even after correcting his pronunciation he still says POSE, so I POSE, give him the peace sign or put on hand on my hip and turn my face into BLUE STEEL.
I am getting ahead of myself though, there is also an elaborate labyrinth of lockers and keys that I have to maneuver through each day to even get into the gym.
The gym may not be incredibly spacious and is totally dwarfed when I think of the epic Lifetime fitness or even the YMCA gyms that I have been to back in America, but it does take up 3 floors.
The elevator takes me up to the 3rd floor of a huge building which is the main lobby area, this is where I scan my keychain and receive my uniform. YES,I said UNIFORM, everyone at the gym wears the same outfit, it is blue for boys and red for girls. You also get a sauna towel as well as a receipt. Then I venture into the locker room, only to stop maybe two feet in to take my shoes off before I step on a large wooden plank. The shoes go into a tiny locker and i retrieve the key. Walking another two feet I give the receipt that I got with my uniform as well as the shoe key to a nice lady who at this point already has my other key ready bc I always put my shoes into locker number 102. I get the key for the other 102 locker which is where I can put my clothes while I work out. It is larger and even has a nice wooden hanger. They are not messing around. As I make my way to the locker I encounter on average 4.7 naked women above the age of 60. There is a sauna adjacent to the locker room and they (and now I as well) have no shame walking around and enjoying their fresh and clear birthday suits. After changing into my clothes and putting on my socks I go up a set of stairs that is lined with, you guessed it, more lockers. These lockers are for gym shoes, so you walk out of the locker room with only your socks. You leave the clothes key in the locker as you put on your shoes and this locker is a combination one, so you have nothing weighing you down as you work out.

Now comes the fun part- the actual gym. I forgot the mention that though both the ladies and gentlemen check in on the 3rd floor the men have to hike up a set of stairs to get to their locker room, but the gym-shoe-locker-stairs are unisex. SOOO...get ready for some heart pounding hip hop to hit you when you enter the main gym area on the 5th floor. It is se7en heaven, a girl's generation "secret" and everything in between, they also have the good notion of playing a few big bang songs just to make me happy! The running machines line the back wall, facing out to the street so you can stare at the row of delicious restaurants and imagine how much chicken you would be consuming if you were not at the gym. The middle of the gym is two rows of workout machines that look very new. What threw me off initially (which should have been quite obvious given that I live in Korea) was the the weights are on a different system of measurement, so I was quite surprised for a while when the 15 lbs was giving me a run for my money, I multiplied it by 2.2 and then didn't feel so bad.

So yes, the trainers at my gym are great, all under the age of 28 they are very helpful and very attentive. I thought I knew how to work out but I was very very wrong. A simple adjustment of my arm position or another way to lift my legs gives me a completely different level of intensity in my workout. Leg raises and arms is where I had been seeing it the most so two days ago I jokingly told my favorite trainer (the one who insists that I do everything IMMEDIATELY)that my legs were not getting a good enough work out and that he was taking it TOO easy on me. Well, needless to say I have not been able to walk down a flight of stairs since I made that careless remark because he took me through 5 different exercise, with 3 sets of 20 in each that literally left my legs shaking and I needed to grab on to several handrails to make it out of there. I love that feeling, the feeling of getting my money's worth.

Classes- I have only taken yoga and kpop dance so far, so there are still a few unexplored choices on the menu, but they are pretty fun. The first yoga class I ever went to was a partner class, I had to step on an old woman's feet and she made weird sounds sometimes. Better luck next time. Another class that I attend more regularly is the dance class, they basically play all the hits of the radio and we learn the choreography. Being that this class has a very regular audience when I first started I was probably 8 counts and a lot of crazy hand motions behind everyone else. I calculated that since one complete new dance takes up about a week to learn that those people have probably been attending for months thanks to a flashy show of dances they are able to recall as soon as the music starts playing. I did learn one complete dance though and have to pride myself of the amount of umph I put into every butt shaking move. I have also learned that though I was oblivious to this the trainers actually check to see if I am attending bc the one class I missed last week two of them asked why I did not come and another one informed me that he looked last time to see if I was there. I am not sure everyone else's attendance is accounted for, must be a miguk saram thing.

So then there is also the matter of coming back to the locker room and soaking up some lovin from the 5 different pools. Imagine 3 jacuzzi tubs, but way way bigger and each one has an electronic temperature gage, one is always bubbling at a piping 41 degrees, the next one is around 44 degrees and has purple water in it. The last one is even hotter, usually a 46. Then there are two pools in the back, a deep one set at 35 and a very cold one, 19 degrees that also sports jets that hang from the ceiling that you press when you have just jumped in after being in the sauna, boy do they tickle. It actually feels like icicles are being projected at your body in rapid progression until it hurts. The upside to this torture is that it feels amazing after being in the suffocating heat and my skin has never been softer. Literally, I don't think I have ever had better skin. So as i alluded to, there are also three sauna rooms. Now as a cautious mother should, my mom in America (read: real mother) warned me about staying in sauna's for too long. I read up on it and it seems like the saunas that i visit for MAYBE 5 minutes, 10 if I am really feeling like a champion are much cooler that the traditional ones in Finland. However, of the three rooms, one is made entirely out of some special green rocks that do not absorb any moisture so it is incredibly humid and the heat just hovers and clings onto your body. It is advised that people sit in the sauna, on the floor, because it is the coolest place. BUT, I like to watch the TV so I stand, it helps the time pass a little faster. After going through the jacuzzi and sauna and then cold jacuzzi process, which never takes me more than 15 minutes, including the times before and after when you shower your body, I feel like I never want to wear clothes again. I also lose about a pound of water during the process because every pore I ever imagined having is getting rid of those toxins like a mother-fer.

I dry off, change into clean clothes, give my clothes locker key to the lady and then get my shoes locker key, put those on once ive cleared the wooden plank and go home. The entire process of going to the gym takes me now 2 hours. If I take a class and really enjoy my soak, I have been known to get home at 10:30 after a 7:45 leave time. I really enjoy this alone time though and my host family knew from the beginning that i loved to undungheyo, so they are not surprised anymore.
I hope I didn't forget anything important about the gym and gave you all a little peak at what a true Korean health club is all about. PEACE!

I give too much homework

...and I have a student called Lucifer in my class. Did I mention that she is a girl. TOday was the first day of teaching and it went pretty well. Not incredibly though. I actually had to take away 3 pencil cases and one kid had a talking to by him homeroom teacher for his behavior. The biggest bummer was that my co-teacher said that my lesson was good but they do not understand how I speak and that I gave too much homework. This is frustrating bc I want my students to do well, and I know that what I am doing is supposed to be effective. Especially since they have to get their parents to sign the speaking portion and there will be heavy consequences for those who do not do their work.

I can't help thinking that this is not what the school signed up for. Maybe they do not want a subject teacher but it is enough for me to just look white and say hello and open my exeptionally large eyes. My co-teacher was telling me that I give too much homework and that the students will have to work hard in my class. I sure hope so.

Update: It has been another week and I am so thrilled to report that my classes are mastering their objectives. The lower students of each class are getting more individual attention thanks to differentiated groupings and tailored assgnements based on ability level. Even better is that they are doing their homework. If they do not I visit them at lunch and put the smack down. I have also been going into classrooms and teaching students how to play thumb war and heads up, seven up. I love bonding with my students through games and allowing them to be silly and shout a little. So school has been really great.

Homestay has also been great, I have joined a gym and LOVE LOVE LOVE sitting in a spa pools or going into a sauna room after my workouts. That is all for now. <3 br="">

Gradual release of responsibility

So, I taught my first week of classes.
Korean kids are awesome. I teach 4th, 5th, and 6th grade. I am a hardass on the kids from day one. I assigned homework and told them I expect 80% mastery on the end of year assessments and on the quizzes we will have every 2 weeks. I gave a pre-assessment and have leveled them into high, middle and low groups (for the second lesson in each unit I will be giving them work based on their levels since some students are near fluent from living abroad and others do not know the alphabet). They also know better than to uncross their arms from the "active listening" position that I have them sit in whenever I am talking at the front of class. My co-teacher expressed concern over a few of the classes because of their notoriously poor behavior, so I was especially strict with them, making a student who talked out stand in the back of the room with his hands above his head. Don't hate, it is the Korean way.

Besides the fact that I scare the children I also feel so much love from them. At the end of each lesson they line up and give me a high five, handshake or a hug and say goodbye. I find that the tougher I am on the class the more hugs I get, even some of the boys are not shy about giving me a huge smile/hug combo. I love teaching.

Around the school I also get invited to tea time and weekend trips with different groups of teachers. I just taught my host sister the word "boob" bc the 3 year old was squeezing mine and yelling the Korean name "cheechee". Speaking of the little monster, yesterday she rammed me with a shopping cart and the day before she was hitting me in my bed and screaming. I really cannot handle young children. At first I was about to write an email asking to have my homestay switched rather that put up with this blatantly apathetic mom who let her daughter do whatever she wanted. Instead, after some deliberation, I decided to make the best of it and try to bond with the little monster instead. Bc if I can't cut it with someone else's 3 year old, I probably shouldn't have my own.

My host mom is great but worries a lot about me. She finally let me take the bus downtown by myself today. It was great. Then she had my sister call to make sure I was fine. Then she offered to pick me up. Working on gradual release of responsibility to both my students and host parents.

Today I am going to a body painting festival. I will escorted by my 8 year old host sister. Should be fun. I just finished putting makeup on the 3 year old, she looks like one of those toddlers in tiaras. Hooker children can be found wherever you go in this crazy world I guess. <3

Pizza Kimchi mogoyo

Sorry it has been forever and a day.
In the past weeks I have fasted, traveled to Seoul and had a blast, visited 3 ft into North Korea, graduated from my Korean classes with 2 B s and 2 C pluses and co-taught a workshop on behavior management. Those were all very exciting times at Jungwon University, but the talent show which went into the best night of binge drinking seems light years ago in comparison to the 3 days I have spent in my homestay.
Yes, thats right, I live with a Korean family, the dynamics of which are quite adorable yet different from the American lifestyle I have been living thus far.
First off, the mom is an amazingly hard working little woman who loves foreigners but speaks almost no english. We did have a lovely convo (whilst sipping on some beers endorsed by my favorite band- BigBang) using her pocket dictionary and my cell phone. She also took me to Costco where I stupidly spent a fortune and now have to wait a month before i buy anything. :( o well, they family got me a bike yesterday from the dad's office and in the evening we went on our usual walk ( I think they really took to heart what I said about loving exercise because we have not missed a family walk yet) and I raced my two young sisters around the playground. The 8 year old is my window into the world, she lets me know what is happening and her mom is always calling her over to translate. The 3 year old, Kiryang, is a menace and she is always either eating or playing with water and making a mess. I think the terrible twos have developed into terror threes because she runs the house with her screaming and apparently it is ok for her to push me off furniture. She is adorable though so life may give her a pass for her poor attitude. Discipline is the house is nonexistent and the poor mother does clean up a lot of spills and messes that the kids make throughout the day. They are quite happy though and get their fill of anything, be it icecream, fruit, or books. The house has a children's library that bici north should envy and this includes both english and Korean books. You can tell that the parents are dedicated to educating their children and giving them everything. Which brings me to the dad, he is so little and cute. He bows to me in the morning and then thats the majority of interaction that we have for the rest of the day. I hope that I can coax him to learn a little english so that I can at least ask him how his day was and we will not have to play charades with each other for the next year.
There is much more to say and stories to tell, but I time is running out and I need to go to a mountain and meditate with my fam.
Last note, I went to grandma's birthday celebration yesterday and I love love love the grandpa, he speaks english and is so sweet, I cannot wait until the CHusak (Korean THanksgiving) so I can see him again bc the celebration is at his house. <3 br="">
peace out for now lovers.

CACing it.

So we have to do weekly reflections about our cultural adjustment, here is mine for this week. It is very deep, so be weary.


1. What preparations do you feel you still have to make for Departure Day and your life after Orientation?
Well, this is all on me, but I do not feel super confident in my ability to speak all of the Korean greetings to my principal and co-teacher. But I know that a smile goes a long way and it will be alright if I am not 100% perfect right away. I am really excited to be a part of a school community again. Having taught for two years I know the important role that all the teacher play in making sure that the school environment is a positive and productive one so I am incredibly thrilled. It had been a little hard this week because my school (technically ex-school... but I am having a hard time letting go) started this Monday and the teachers that I was close with have written to me to say that they miss my presence but that the school is doing really well and even mentioned some of my students. After only a week they have a lot of amusing stories to share and it seems like the world did not collapse at bici north just because I left. Likewise, the world will not end if something unfavorable occurs during my initial meeting with the principal. However, i do want to make a positive first impression and will persistently study the notes that we were given in order to make that a reality.


2. What is your biggest fear about your first week at your placement? What are you most looking forward to during your first week at your placement?

I am most looking forward and also dreading at the same time having to huddle around a dictionary with my host family in order to communicate. I think it will be a great learning curve bc I will finally be away from all my friends and most English speakers, however, it will be tough to have myself muted for a short period of time until I have the vocabulary and knowledge to speak to my host family without needed assistance. I really really hope that my host family has children. I have a younger brother and though he has not been very little for a very long time I do enjoy having brother-sister interactions and value that closeness. Ideally I will get to recreate parts of that relationship with my host siblings. On another note, I am also looking forward to getting lost, often. It seems like a few short weeks ago our own home here in Geosan was uncharted territory. If I can now get to kimbap heaven with my eyes closed it means that a change of scenery is needed. Exploration is very exciting and I cannot wait to take a crack at a big city.

Placements and Plateaus

So the big day came and went, we got our placements for the next year. I will be in the city of Daegu, it depends on who you ask, but it is either the 3rd or 4th largest city in Korea. Everyone will agree however, that it is very hot there, most of the people giving me this advice have never been to that city, but the idea in Korea is that everything should be known for something, and Daegu picked the lucky adjective of HOT.
It was a mad rush to the computer once we were placed to see what the city looks like, figure out who is living close to us and also see if there is an easy, quick and affordable way to leave our placements when we hear the Seoul party scene calling our name. The good news about my city is that it is huge and most people who live there do not need to escape to Seoul to experience a good time. The downside of it being that it is anywhere from 3 to 4 hours away from Seoul which makes the trip a lengthy one.
It was almost necessary for me to get my placement because in a way it is the light at the end of the tunnel of Orientation. Do not get me wrong, I am ever so grateful that I get to take Korean classes and be presented with workshops to increase my abilities as the English Language teacher at my school...BUT I am getting restless and very antsy to get out of the lovely safe cocoon that has been weaved for us at Fulbright. As much as I love the people here it feels like Little America has sprung up at Jungwon University and instead of getting the mad rush of overwhelmed excitement and having to make it with the skill-set that I arrived with I have been given even more skills through the training and I really really want to start applying them...NOW!
When I taught at Camp Fulbright I felt really re-energized. Now, after the energy of the students has left I feel as if I have slumped off into an abyss of routine and the challenge is no longer there. I am going to Chunju tomorrow to see Inception and I hope that not having native speaks around me it will allow me to have a chance to fend for myself a little and practice the Korea I have been learning oh so diligently.
Lastly, I had an icecream/shaved ice/ red bean dessert today and I just have to say- where are my snikers and recees hiding?? I need processed sugar sooooo badly. It is indeed interesting how even the most authentic attempt to recreate a snikers- called a Atlas bar, or it's cousin the Ghana are no where near the perfection that appears when I unwrap that crisp brown snikers bar. Sigh.

My whole textbook is written in KOREAN...ugh!

So here is the thing...Korean is hard to learn. Sitting in the clasroom for 4 hours a day my confidence had much pretty much shattered. However, I went to Seoul this weekend. YES I partied all night, YES I went up and danced on stage, YES I had an amazing time and a SURPRISING YES to understanding things I had learned in contextual situations. Example: we had been learnig about money and having basic conversations on how to ask for the check at a restaurant. We had Koreans with us who were fluent in the language but I could comprehend things as they were talking to the waiter. Another amazing moment- I made up my very own sentence, something that would have taken a panic attack and a lot of coaxing from the teacher to complete in class. Moral of the story: Korean is hard but I know more than I give myself credit for. Once I get to my homestay I will probably find myself more confident and speaking more freely than I do in class.
Hmmm, other important updates: Body image, as well as first impressions are crucial in Korea. When in Seoul, I saw very many people who had plastic surgery to look a certain way and even spotten men and women who were sporting white makeup. The lighter the skin tone- the better I guess. It is a little un-nerving though that my host family will be openly critisizing me for my weight and at the same time telling me to eat more. These types of contradictions are frequent in society- you have to wear makeup, but not too much, it isn't ok to bear your shoulders but your skirt barely has to exist. Dieting and food restrictions seem to be common, but girls will never want to exercise.
Lastly, I wanted to remember and reflect on a year ago. It seems like every year I think "oh boy, I was so silly to be thinking this or doing that" and wondering when I will finally be mature enough to look back a year and not have to raise my eyebrows in disapproval of the choices and thought patterns I was having at that time. I doubt that a day like that will ever come, and really thinking about it now I feel as if it is better that it never does, because that would mean that I had hit a plateau in development. To start off, I had bleached my hair in an attempt to see if blondes had more fun (Id have to say no and red is still the way to go). I had also gone through an interesting boy phase and I was not being kind to myself or most people around me. The best memories however stem around the first days of school during my second year at BICI north. Coming back, knowing what I was facing with my challenging students, and then hitting the problems head on made me feel great. Like I finally had enough confidence in my abilities to stop taking the backseat and take over. I remember the first year teachers (now stellar educators in their own right who I miss just a little bit!) overwhelmed and panic stricken. True fear is having 13 unruly 7th and 8th graders spitting game at you at the same time as chucking a used condom at your 16,000 dollar smartboard. Oh the glory days. The baton has been passed once again and the second years get to kick back and watch as the new teachers attempt classroom management and develop their teacher personas. A part of me wishes I could be in on that school culture once again. Give advice and listen to horror stories as well as cheer on the newcomers. But it is best to let that part of my life stay in the past and look forward to being a newbie once again when I go to my Korean school, bright eyed and bushy tailed the cycle begins again!

Thank You TFA

So I never thought I would say this, but TFA has really prepared me for life. Being in South Korea and teaching students English through the Camp on Campus has allowed me to sit back, reflect on the past two years and really appreciate the training I was given. At the beginning of TFA I was the rebel who refused to do formal assessments. I was never a true believer of the system, I hated giving tests and for some reason it did not sink in until long after institute that I need to know what students got out of my lessons. I hated tracking, and never fully did it, so by TFA standards I was a slacker. Interestingly enough, having a fresh start at teaching here has given me another chance to use the tools that I was given during those ungodly Saturday trainings. Even more surprising is that the methods that are being presented here are game based and more fun, the makings of a cool teacher in the states, but they seem flat out ineffective and I have still not grasped why we have to act and amuse our students instead of teaching them.
I cannot even explain how uncomfortable it makes me to try and attempt this style of teaching. I don't see these as a means to get results. I am frustrated because it feels like there is no drive, that the fuel that runs all corps members to end educational inequality is not compatible with the "Fun English Conversation Teacher" prototype they are building. I feel too stern and rigid, as if the methods that I have seen work in my classroom are boring and too controlled. Even the fact that I demand respect and have a firm grasp on discipline is seen as a negative and is seen as a reflection of my ice queen persona.
However, seeing the two systems, two vastly different approaches, I think that TFA really has it right. By the end of my second lesson I was back to being the teacher that I want to be. I have control, I teach direct objectives and when they perform well I praise the students. In my opinion, teaching should be clean of noise and chaos and students should be motivated by personal growth rather than candy or stickers. I can be flexible, throw in a game or two, but I refuse to lose control and let anything slip past me because I am not being true to myself. I want to have my students attain 80% mastery on their end of year English exams. TFA, thank you, I guess I needed to see the non-example in order to realize what I great asset you really were for building me as a teacher. I may come to find out after my stint in Korea is over that games would have been the better thing to do all along, just as I didn't believe in assessments two years ago.

I did TKD today!!!!

Nostalgia. That is the only way to describe the feelings of putting on a crisp TaeKwonDo uniform, tying a belt around your waist and then kiaping with all your might. It was eerie how familiar all of the commands sounded, almost like I didn't take a 6 year hiatus from probably the most amazing sport known to man. The class was large and the pacing very slow, but I was glowing. My body responded automatically, took time to pause, and knew when to strike and I even remembered how to breath. Im on cloud nine. :)

6 days later....

I am looking out my window and I see a looming mist around rich green mountains and rollercoaster hills. The "marble palace" that I live in is one gigantic building( incredibly eco friendly) and very Palo Soleri in the sense that it is built up and surrounded by some of the most beautiful and enticing nature you have ever seen. There are also many covered verandas around so you can enjoy studying korean as rain pours from above.

Infact, I did just that yesterday night. It is amazing to me that in three days of intensive Korean instruction (four hours a day)my class has gone from a few people knowing the alphabet to reading sentences at a (semi) fluid pace. Thats like 4 years growth in 12 hours, TFA would be so proud. :) During my stay here I have also gotten a sense for Korean culture, nothing that I didn't know already, but more like facts being confirmed before my eyes. Example: male-male or female-female effection is common. Older gentleman can be seen walking hand in hand and girls give each other lots of effection. During one of our drinking outtings (ive only gone twice but people have been hitting the town 40 or so at a time for days straight, we are picking up on this aspect really well) two of our male Korean college student friends were kissing each others heads in a way that would cause most Americans to raise eyebrows.Though it did bring back memories of a certain group of 09 TFA corps memebers who were very bro-mantic with each other, went on movie dates and were not afraid to show some love. (Miss you guys, you would be so loved here) Interestingly enough, Koreans have no gaydar and the gay culture is still only beginning to make so headway when it comes to understanding of the concept.

Respect is the name of the game here, I find myself bowing overnearly every three steps as I walk down the halls, insa is the word for greeting and giving insa will result in me having a six pack. We bow to Professors, our Korean teachers and even the construction workers who pound away at the school at all time of the day (this university seriously has a heartbeat, they are always baning out a steady rhythm and when it stops everyone notices because our bodies arent shaking anymore. ALso- fun fact- construction workers wear really nice collared shirts to work!! so cute.)

I have had the pleasure of experiencing a Korean classroom as a field trip to Changju. First off, they really do hate feet here (so glad someone else shares my intense disgust) and you have to take your shoes off whenever you enter a household or room. There are even lips in our rooms that bring the rest of the room up so we leave the shoes on the bottom ledge as we enter. Anyway, after taking our shoes off the elementary teachers and I went through the school in comfy slippers that I hope to god someone cleaned before I was forced to shove my feet in there. The hallways, floors, and even steps were plastered with english phrases, they focus so much on english language cultivation that they do not waste any room. However, the red riding hood story that pasted on the steps (each time you walk up you read a new line) was a little awkward and thus probably not helpful to their English development.

Also- one more gripe- the korean kids dont raise hands. That is part of the culture, they just shout words out. I plan on instilling a little American teaching practice when it comes to those things. I already know the Korean word for NO so I think I will practice that for the first days before they simmer down and sit in their seats. Truth be told, behavior was much worse that I have seen in many classrooms, mainly because the problems were being completely ignored by the teacher. They were super cute though. Bonus points- one kid wore suspenders and knew everything. I suspect him to be the class captain, being one for my Korean class I get him. I just need to get a pair of suspenders to complete the look.

Ah, I have so much more to say but that mountain is looking too good not to explore it. Korea rocks, I need you all to come and see it for yourself. so :) Anyongkaseyo!

Shake Machines !!!!!

I have been working out at 6amat the Korean gym for the past two days. (Quite a streak eh?) Today I was brave enough to step onto the SHAKE MACHINE. This thing basically gives off serious vibrations and moves your body from left to right very very quickly as you hold on. It basically isolates the areas on your body that are fatand not muscle and then makes them jiggle like there is no tomorrow.

So please imagine this scene: I am holding on to the bars after setting the timer and the setting on a high level, then, the machines slowly warms up and sharts to move me from side to side with increasing speed. By the end of the first minute my ass is bopping up and down so hard it would make any rap-video-wanna-be-dance grimmace in disgust. But wait, the machine is not done yet, as the intensity increases so does the jiggling on other parts of my body, its like the fat is being extracted from every hiding spot and shown to the world in full bump and grind glory. Mind you, I am the younges person in the gym. By FAR. The only other three people are over 65 and most likely looking at my jiggling and thinking I am morbidly obese. Apparently it is only fitting that the only person in the gym with a little fat to spare is moving and grooving to the speed of a shake machine.

So clearly, the Koreans really know how to make you extremely selfconcious. I will definately be back for the machine tomorrow. Maybe this is how Shakira learned to shake her hips so they don't lie.

July 3rd never occured.

So this is the first blog from Korea. This country is strikingly beautiful, on the three hour ride from Seoul we passes numerous cities on the lakefront and the greenery and beautiful bridges around were breathtaking.

It is also Very very humid here, I finally get why people complain about humidity and hair. I took a 10 min hard run on the tredmill today and it felt (and my body glistened as if...) I had just run a marathon.

The food is incredible. Pickled radish looks like noodles, kimchi heats up the body several degrees and the meats are very lean. I really like the dehydrated squid i bought at a truck stop.

The last quick remark I will make before going to shower in my bathroom, (I will have to put pictures up later because it is really a fascinating thing when your entire bathroom is your shower) is that I have to take a female only elevator to the female only part of the dorm. This is inforced by cameras. Everyone is totally complaint of this but sometimes people forget and jump on the wrong one.

Bowing out at a 45 degree angle- Olenka!

Peace Out!

The lights are dim, the rope cords that separate the boxing rink from the crowd rock gently to the Rocky theme music, the spotlight shine on the announcer at the center of the mat.

"In this corner......." he annunciates each syllable and draws the crowd in "at 5 feet four inches tall, weighing in at 125 (thanks mom for feeding my "the last supper" for two straight weeks) hailing from Phoenix, Az is the Ukrainian renegade, with the famous sass attack move and nerves of steel made by the hammer and sickle she is packed and ready to jet off, please welcome to the battle field Olleeeeeeeeeeeeeeenka Leeeeeeeneeeeeetsss!"

I smack my gloved hands together and then pump by fists in the air as I approach the announcer, the crowd obviously goes wild. My uniform is a mixture of colors and flags because I don't actually have one country that I am representing, I am a compilation of the many experiences made in several foreign lands. I don't quite have a home.

"In the other corner....." he starts up again, and the crowd is momentarily hushed by his booming voice "at the geographical coordinates of 37 00 N, 127 30 E, a landmass totaling 96,920 sq km (thats slightly larger than Indiana folks) and boasting a population of 48,636,068 thin people please make some noise for the country that has 81% of it's people living in urban areas, an infant mortality rate of 4.24 deaths/1,000 live births and a literacy rate of 97.9%.....here is Soooooooouth Koooooooooreeeeeeeeeeeaa!"

We do a fist bump and then square off in position...let the battle begin.



facts taken from https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/ks.html

the EX factor

I was talking to a good friend the other day about how certain cars, because they were driven by our ex-boyfriends/lovers/crushes still stand out in the mind. It is interesting how a car becomes a symbol of our presence in a certain place, or can jolt a memory into our head faster than you can say Honda Civic Hatchback.
The first car that I was obsessively spotting around the high school parking lot was a midnight black soft top Jeep with custom gigantic wheels. If that wasn't enough to solidify it's presence amongst the other cars, it also had a unique and distinctive read view mirror that sported spikes. Yikes. My heart would flutter as I pulled into the parking lot and saw that symbol of the heart throb badass. Another high school crush car that still makes me laugh at my ridiculousness and poor self esteem is a Chevy Blazer. Holy crap, my insecurities got the best of me when the car owner and I decided to trade cars for a day and I was so nervous that I couldn't even get his keys to open the door. Im still surprised my face did not fall off, I was so embarrassed.
With my first boyfriend came the SUBARU experience. I had little knowledge ( and interest) in learning about cars at that time, but by the end of the relationship I could tell you the differences in performance power between the STI and the WRX models. STI being clearly the superior. Driving that car was also a pretty cool experience because those who knew anything about cars and saw me step out of it has a sudden appreciation for "my" car choice.
Since then the parking space outside my home had been filled with a variety of other car brands. The beat up gold Toyota still has a special place in my drive way because of the endless miles it drove back and forth from Tucson and how easy it was to fog up the the windows on a cold November day. After that breakup the sight of that 98 rear end would bring tears to my eyes for months. Also on the honorable mention list, a french car in which we spun around the Arc de Triumph, Maria and I clinging to each other for dear life.
Most recently there was a been a Ford that drew my attention. I dont know the model or year but the out of state license plate and especially the bumpy looking back have now made it possible for me to spot it's sublings without a second thought.
Thank you cars for being random reminders of good times, awkward moments (my fave) and also giving me a heads up so I can duck out of the way if the person who owns the car is someone I do not wish to ever speak to again.
Another topic that I want to write about but do not have the time would have to be an extension of Jessica's post about ex-boyfriends and music. The friends that we attain while being involved with someone sometimes end up being better for us than the relationship itself. :)

Are you afraid to die?

I believe the old addage goes a little like this: there are only two guarantees in life- death and taxes.

Being that up to this point I have managed to escape paying taxes {(wooo for being a full time student and a full time employee, ASU was good for something...) and even had my mom's HELP in doing most of them, lets be real- I just sat there and nodded as she explained it and then she ended up doing them mostly herself anyway(shit, im more wordy than normal today} I now come to expect that death is the only sure truth in this crazy ass world we live in. That being said, how do ya'll feel about it?

A friend and I had a really amazing conversation a few months back about the millions of outlooks one can pick to use when contemplating life. Factors such as religion, upbringing, motivation, personality all came up as valid components...and then I mentioned death. What role does death play in this whole LIFE thing you may ask. It is the end of all the fun, the final curtain call, el fin. Scary right? Contemplating this over in my half shaved head I really enjoy hearing how a person views death because I can infer a lot about them through their thought process. I mean, personally, I don't really have a problem with it because lets face it people, it is the one thing that will for sure happen to each and every one of us and our loved ones. That is not to say that it is not a sad event or one that should be avoided (wear your seatbelt) but even if the even that causes the death is surprising, the idea of death should certainly not be.

My dear friend Jeremy and I started this "game" that I also ask people to play with me when I am trying to understand their "essence" and to this date it has spawned really creative and telling results. You set this up for someone, and let them at it "Imagine that a picture was taken of you at any point in your life that captures you at your most shining moment, in a sense it captures your essense/soul/personality at a point in your life you feel the most "you"...explain what i would see in that picture" sometimes it take a little prying and prodding to get the person to respond but many have surprised themselves and me with their answers. Here is a sample of real answers:
- walking into the house from a day of being a doctor to an excited bundle of children and wife to have a family dinner
-standing on top of a Mexican Indian ruin with mom, doing the rocky pose
-a three pact picture of wild youth, laughing with family, and then an adventurous retirement
-nothing (we are working on this one...)
-watching with spouse as the youngest child graduates college
Here is mine: I am walking through the bazar in Morocco, holding my youngest baby in my right hand, with my left I am holding on to my second youngest and pointing things out at the same time, there are two others running ahead and laughing. There is a certain radient glow from the sun that makes our various skin colors extra tan and a flirtacious warm breeze ruffles my long flowy dress and tangles the different textures of hair the group provides. We are walking along and enjoying the day and window shopping, not purchasing anything, just admiring the various gadgets, fruits and tapestries on sale. Surprise twist: there is no man walking with me in the picture.hmm

So I think the next game I will play will be asking people- "What are your thoughts on death?" I hope to again gain deeper knowledge about the characters around me as they answer this question. I already know my answer, but don't want to give it away quite yet. :)

The hair that is here.

It is a peculiar thing, a girl's hair. Many of us swear by a shampoo, are mortifyingly loyal to our stylists and have developed a daily routine that includes elaborate styling equipment as well as many cute jars of product. So it is no surprise that the way hair looks can tell you a lot about the girl sporting it. For a long time I had little choice about how my hair looked. My mom would just braid it and send me off to school. I would get one haircut a year, which basically consisted of my mom taking a pair of scissors and snipping off half of the braid. Lovely.
At fifteen I was able to get my first professional haircut. I made up for lost time by charging up 150 dollars worth of highlights, the cut and deep conditioning. That was the end of my professional haircuts for a while and I resorted to my beloved Colorsilk hair dye for 2.99 at Target. It was a lovely, changing my appearance on a monthly basis just by plopping on a little dye and waiting 30 minutes. I began to experiment with different colors and my long red locks became somewhat of a trademark, an illustration of my personality.
The length of hair is also a telling factor, long hair is representative of beauty while short hair gives the girl a little extra sass. I have for too long subscribed to the idea that in order to look my best, be the most attractive I have to sport a long thick mane of multi-tonal hair. Short hair is cute, fun for the summer, but every girl covets the look of long long locks being splashed back from her face by the playful summer wind. The internalization of such standards of beauty is what caused me to be mortified and balling my hands into fists of rage when an ex-boyfriend accidentally cut my hair to a painfully short length. It was even with my ears, and highly unattractive as far as I was concerned. I hate to put it in writing but the real reason that I was so aghast when I saw the damage was that I had a picture perfect scenario, a wedding scene, in which i come down from a balcony with lusciously wavy strands of hair flowing far down my back. That insane picture, the image of my assumed "wedding perfection bliss" was no longer possible for many years after that hair cut. It upset me so much for some reason that if I had wanted to, I would not be able to get married in that way for at least 4 years. I had lost hope of being a perfect and beautiful bride.
So recently, I have been thinking about my hair and how it portrays me as a person. Incidentally, my hair was finally at a length where it could be manipulated back into that picture of wedding perfection. However, as my hair had grown out during the last 4 years, I had also outgrown that idea of perfection. Thankfully I no longer let hair length for a phantom future wedding dictate the choices I make with it now. It seems almost laughable that I was planning out my wedding hair instead of planning out my next 5 years in terms of career, location and financial stability. But that is how young and naive I was in college. What mattered then- friends, fun, freedom are still valued today, but the basis for their quantifiable measurement has changed drastically. I measure quality of friendships by how much they push me to grow as a person and how much they inspire me to be more than I am today. Fun can mean partying, but it can also mean painting together, cooking dinner, taking a walk, more wholesome things. Freedom- well, instead of wanting to rebel and fight off every piece of advice from parents I seek it and listen thoroughly, realizing the value behind the words of wisdom and travel, true world travel is now the epitome of a freeing experience.
But I digress, back to hair, before my recent haircut I was contemplating shaving a part of my head. I had toyed with the idea for a few months before truly settling on the idea. After all, when else in life will I be able to sport a half-shaved head. Why wait when you can do it now. Respice Finem, live in the moment. So I tossed all hesitation and doubt aside in the same corner that I threw away my traditional concepts of beauty and went for it. I LOVE it. It was such a liberating experience, the feel of freshly buzzed hair, looking at the incredibly long strands that littered the floor like wounded battle soldiers and seeing myself in a new and more exposed light was thrilling. I could not help but think of that wedding hair image that I had in my mind, it will take many years now to achieve that look. That is probably a good thing. If I let go of those expectations, the need to find someone, the need to settle, the need to conform to the average, the standards no longer apply to me. I am now free.
The repercussions of the haircut- well, I scared some of my students. Some probably think that I am a lesbian, and many told me it looked strange and ugly. Had I been any less confident in my choice I would have taken their comments to heart. But I realize that my new haircut just rocked their perception of male and female stereotypes. I can't wait to see what my mom thinks of it. All in all, I am very happy with the decision, infact, I want more cut off. It is a adrenaline rush to hear those buzzing clippers coming at me, knowing that whatever I look like will not change who I am a person. The outside me may look different, and perhaps be treated differently to a degree, but as a new chapter in my life begins I am excited to show a new face to the world.

I hope you figure out that YOU are the crazy bitch screaming in the bar that I ask for attention.

I was recently taken aback by someone's unfavorable description of me, loudly and poignantly stated in front of numerous co-workers at an end of year celebration in a bar. Now that I have set the scene for the first conflict I have had with another girl since probably the beginning of high school, I must share a poem that I wrote about the incident:

Is there truth in your lies?
Why is it me you despise?

What could I possibly have done
To invoke a rage that would blister the sun

Your venomous words and the poison you spew
are a clear and direct reflection of you

NO one intends to cause so much stress and pain
Unless they have something valuable to gain

What is it you want then...you deepest desire?
I hope it was worth setting our friendship on fire

You can flush any apologies down the shitter
I no longer want to act as your emotional babysitter

There is nothing to salvage, no relationship to maintain
The energies of these two years have been lost in vain

The funny thing is you do this to yourself
You dig a hole, jump in, and then cry for help

I wish you the best as you move on to the rest
But my happiness, joy and fun you will no longer repress

And now I shall go camping in Sedona and have a wicked good time. Peace out. Happy Memorial Day.

to reap no reward, see no seed flower bloom

Hypothetical question. You are renting a house and it has a garden. The garden is very visually stimulating. It is unique in look and the flowers give off a particularly pleasing smell. You have enjoyed starring out at this garden while you have lived in the house and have grown rather fond of all it's splendor. Taking care of the garden is no easy task but you do the best you can. Of course you were not always sure of what to do with the garden. Watering the plans is a chore, one week you watered far far far too much and the entire garden is almost ruined. One day, your landlord calls and says that you have to move out, you have a few short weeks left on your lease and then someone else will take over. This is not surprising news, you were after all really looking forward to moving and you yourself decided to not sign the lease again. But now what to do about the garden? You will certainly miss peaceful strolls, listening to the birds chirping and touching the lavender petals that are covered in morning dew. But it's not like there are no other gardens out there. Maybe other gardens are easier to maintain, not such a hassle to hoe down from their overgrowing weeds and problematic roots. There will be more exotic gardens and very standard ones, it would be nice to continue exploring those exiting environments. So what do you do with the garden that you have now? Knowing that you are leaving makes it easy to just let it run itself, let the weeds creep up over the sidewalk and the flowers shiver up into a crunchy remnant of the beauty they once commanded. Does it make sense to continue nourishing the earth that it grows from, water and prune the plants if in the near future you will not have the pleasure of enjoying the view you create? Do you continue to put forth effort for your garden if you will not reap the rewards of your labor? Or do you continue to give love or do you place your energies and efforts elsewhere?

Like a Vulcan, angry for the very first time (sing to the tune of Madonna's Virgin)

Star Date 13.9 May 2010

This is Captain's blog from Olenka Enterprise. She is a 23 year old ship that has set sail on a two year mission to leave the college life as we know it, explore strange new worlds in the Glendale part of the Arizona galaxy, tame wild civilizations between the ages of 10 and 14 and boldly go where no Ukrainian has gone before- A late night ASU class. Luckily, our journey aboard this starcraft is nearly over. We have encountered many challenges during this time in the vastness of space and doubt but tomorrow, (with the entire fleet still intact) we will have a moment of celebration as we land back safely on the familiar confines of planet Graduation. It is indeed a comforting feeling to know that in the next twenty four hours another chapter can be closed for this battleship as she docks in the ASU auditorium port and we proudly march in line to get our victory diplomas. Friends and families will be there to cheer us in victory and we will laugh at the once scary tales of research papers and five step ELD lesson plans. As captain I must preside over the proceedings and reflecting over the last two years I have decided to give an informal account of the struggles that this ship faced. Realizing how many times we had gone into battle, when the shields have been down and enemy vessels attacking our transportation bay I know that it has been only through luck, hard work and an amazing crew that we have made it this far.
Thanks are definitely in order.

Though this is no Oscar worthy speech, there are words of great gratitude that need to be relayed because without the ensigns and copilots and engineering staff, hell, without the entire crew this ship would have been down and out for the count a long time ago.

First, typical, I must thank my parents. They are solid. They have weathered photon rays (in the form of piercings) and grumpiness as well as ill health on the part of the Captain (common job hazard- germy aliens!) and have never failed to take over the deck or even visit captain's quarters when needed. Their unwavering stance in the line of fire has earned them purple hearts. Thank you for pushing me at the speed of warp five so I will one day arrive at the destination of destiny and fulfillment.

There has not been a sustainable or consistent sub-commander during these two years of journey. I appreciate all those who's applications I have reviewed but it seems like this ship needs no right hand man.The interview process was most certainly enjoyed with many of you and there did seem to be some potential in certain cases, however, I regret to inform you, no one has made the cut. That is not to say that there have not been lessons learned, mountains climbed and barriers overcome thanks to your brief stay in the Captain's quarters. In the end, there seem to be far too many flaws in the co-pilot system- the course may be plotted incorrectly or the Captain may be too emotionally involved in the mission to make positive choices for the crew and there just isn't enough time to train you properly for all of the duties you have to perform. So for now, and possibly for the remained of my time as Captain, I choose to fly alone.


Crew- Friends, Teachers, People I have interacted with at any point in time, you have all shared with me a beautiful part of yourself and I truly appreciate the interactions, conversations and smiles we have been able to exchange. Some I rarely see because they are working far below the deck, others are in my line of sight from dawn till night because we work the same shifts on the bridge. I have only become a better Captain and more capable of steering my vessel because you have chosen to give me a part of your time, intellect and positive energy. For all the hard work you have done for this mission, I salute you.

Aliens- You crazy wild creatures with exceptionalities like I have never seen before my voyage into space. It has been a true challenge to learn how you communicate, give peace offerings and try to instill in your stellar souls some of the knowledge I have brought from my planet. Some of the species I have encountered during my time have been hostile. They are also my favorite subjects. Unhoned aliens you must know that this journey of discovery has been all for your benefit. Hopefully you have now a piece of information that will help you further your technology, expand your career options and increase your lifespan. I have grown deeply invested in your civilizations and hope the the progress continues exponentially as I set my coordinates for another galaxy. Studying you has brought on stress but also stretched my boundaries as a person. You have been as much of a teacher to me as I have tried to be for you. Dearly beloved aliens- live long and prosper.

Roomie- thank you for putting up with my high tolerance for dirt and mess, and for listening to me while I let off steam after a long day on the bridge. You are a remarkable archeologist and I am glad that the dig sight you have discovered your second year has brought so much understanding about alien life into our humble home. You are the reason that sesame seed oil brings me thoughts of comfort and joy. Continue to do work on the alien planets with the same enthusiasm and tackle life challenges with the same brilliant mentality that has brought you to this point. <3

Dreamteam- It is only fitting to mention the special operatives that I have been training for the past two months. You are a ruthless bunch and I love you for it. Coaching you has been simply- awesome. I have never felt so influential and relied upon and I loved how hard you worked, and how much you were able to achieve. The lesson I learned, better late than never, was something that the dictators back on TFA have been saying all along- set the bar high. Motivate. and you WILL ACHIEVE. I want to adopt every last one of you when I am done with the high stakes galaxy exploring game.



I know tomorrow will be a good day because I have a perfectly ripe mango waiting for me in the holodeck. Goodnight.

Dreamteam Domination.

Well, it is Thursday evening, as our regularly scheduled programming dictates, I must blog. Since I just got home after a busy 13 hours of work, GEO, Softball and socializing this post will be short, but very very sweet. :)

I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to coach the 5/6 softball team. Today they kicked some very serious ass. The score: 20-1 does not even give justice to the power of confidence and positive attitude (we prayed as a team before the game) that has overtaken us as we entered our first elimination round. The boys were pumped yet focused and watching them all squat(there is not a word more graceful) into perfect stances as the captain called them to "Ready position" nearly brought me to tears of joy. Nearly, but not quite, since I was still "coach" enough to shout at them that their complaining during wall sits was now transformed into amazing back posture and a seriously fierce looking team.

I must also gush about the hitting. EVERY SINGLE PLAYER hit BEYOND expectation. And let me just say that Ms. Russo and I set the bar pretty high. Once the battle of the bats has started, there really was no way to put out their little fires. The pitcher, who in the past has struggled with hitting did an amazing drive through the shortstop and brought in the loaded bases. I don't think I stopped screaming or jumping up and down until the whole bench was done congratulating him on his grand slam. I only wish that his amazingly supportive dad would have been able to see it.

Overall, the event had all the parents on their feet shouting words of praise at their respective children as they dominated. The end of the game, a slight relief and even more excitement that we moved on in the playoffs was topped with watching the families clear the field. Some guided younger siblings though the crowds, others (these are 6th grade boys may I remind you) were holding hands with grandma as she berated them with Spanish love. The adorable parents hugging their adorable children. At that moment, they were not behavior problems as school, they were not failing math and they were not having fights on the playground, everything was happy and nothing hurt (stolen from Kurt Vonnegut). And that is how all softball games should end, everyone walking off the field and feeling like a fucking champion.

Bucket List: Pre-Korea

Two times in one night, how do you like that?
If you are referring to blog posts, count me in!

I was thinking, today is two months from my scheduled departure date. I have a few things that I wanted to accomplish until then, so I made a makeshift bucket list to help me out. If there are any other suggestions, please feel free to add you faithful reader you!!! (this means you jessica)

Here we go:
- perform a slam poem at the fairtrade cafe open mike. (glllll, Jordan help me!)
- score one freaking lousy point in a real basketball game at encanto park. ONE,ONE!!!
- paint the most "epic" canvas ever, thanks to Hayfa for helping kick it off!! :)
- go to a beach...mexico, cali, bahamas, I ain't picky...a beach is a beach
- zumba with steph. (lets show them what we got sfunk!)
- get tragus pierces, again Jordan, I'm counting on you!
- Salt River tubing, I'm practically a native and I still haven't gone
- Walk dogs with Sarah at the Humane Society in Tucson :)
- Pizza and Beer on the last day of school- VEGAN NO MORE
- 1,000 crunches a day.
- Pinata in the park, if its filled in angst, even better
- See my dreamteam boys play in championship game
- Dance at Amsterdam with Jack
- See suns game with Olen, I'm guessing we need a really seedy bar that doesn't check for I.D.
- Baseball game with Lianne, lets see how the pros do it
- Watch an episode of the Office with Jeremy and have a life talk
- See Natalie off to NYC in style! Get it Guuuurl.
- Have Jessica teach me another recipe I will become obsessed with
- Trip to Tucson with Hayfa. June 4th.
- Go to a yoga class with Court
- Have a day of "oregon" goodness with Emily, I see a farmers market, tennis and a hike in which you tell me about nature in our near future
- Eat Indian food with Gayle (if Raji wants to cook, ill be ok with it)
- Convince my dad to take me on his motorcycle for a spin
- Shave a part of my head.

Since the last one was a little extreme I better stop now before I'm adopting a starving orphan or joining the circus. All in due time, Olenka. All in due time.