Was surprised to see ramps today at the local grocery. The thin stalks and purple hue caught my eye. I instantly took them out of their plastic tubing to take a sniff to see if these were truly wild leeks. Only a thousand Korean Won for a bundle, freshly pulled from the ground. You have a choice here on the peninsula to buy dirty vegetables or cleaned vegetables. Of course the dirtier ones are cheaper by weight. But the time spent cleaning them, you begin to think if saving the extra thousand won was worth it. (1USD = 1011.25ish KRW) No real worries, though. Never thought about cleaning vegetables as a real chore, probably except for turning artichokes.
Well, for the past three hours I've been in the kitchen thinking of what soup to cook for the teacher dinner party I'll will be hosting soon. Hosting dinner parties is an event that I hope the diners will remember for the rest of their lives. In the past, I've adopted an A-la-minute style of presentation. Each course is served with a matching wine, and by the time it's over everyone is tipsy and gay. The preparation for these parties is so stressful, but I like the pressure.
I made a ramp soup with coconut milk. It's amazing how low tone creamed soups, poached items, or steamed foods are after getting used to Korean fare. I need to find a way to make this ramp soup louder. The finished product was delicious. Decided to keep the small diced oyster mushrooms and sliced ramps chunky, not pureed. Maybe I'll try to puree it next time. The intended 'kick' from this dish is the pungency of the ramp...argh~
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Sick Leave~
I don't usually call in sick. Tomorrow I have to because I'm really sick. The students have mid-term exams this Friday to Monday and it would not be good to pass on the downer. I'm super contagious right now with a head and chest cold, and my sinuses are jammed up- argh...
This past weekend I went out on a date with Hyeon Gyeong- the girl with the swimmer's shoulders and the V-Line. We shared a good time in Hong Dae. She works as a marketing agent for a Ramien company. From 8 am to 7 pm she works, and then she goes to an English institute until 10 pm'ish studying English. I was wondering why the long feedback between texts~ and it was because of her long schedule. She's an odd ball, at least that is how her friends describe her. She doesn't mind spending lots of time alone, because she is normally studying English translations of English fiction or interview questions for the company. Her smile is a bit off-centered because her teeth are not aligned very well. The top row of teeth naturally drop over one row to the right. Her laugh will stop wars. She's a curious one who isn't so naive, but yet pure. We have chemistry.
The students are out of control because of mid-term exams. I had to raise my voice with 3 out of 5 classes today. My raspy voice was already struggling with a chest cold, but damn it, I had to do it. I'm kind with them, but when they step over with what is fair then I have to become the disciplinarian. For one thing, the ESL classes are much more relaxed than their normal 'Korean' classes. One way of controlling students (which is becoming quite controversial lately) is by hitting them. You are considered less of a man if you do not hit. It's a bit weird to the foreigner, but I don't do it. Don't get me wrong, I would hit my own child if it had to be done.
Working with adolescents is sometimes difficult for me to understand. They are in a period of self discovery. Their brains make rash decisions and at times they are raging with hormones. Boys are learning about pride and envy. Girls mature faster, but are overwhelmed with acceptance and appearance~ both sexes are concerned about this. I once described to a class that beauty comes from within. They looked at me like I was some kind of idiot.
It's late and I'm hungry. It's raining outside. The sound of splashing traffic zooming by can be heard. It's the sound of the city seven floors high. The silhouette of mountains line the sky. Come sunrise, spring colors return. Time to celebrate a hangover redemption, a child's birth- a new day. The morning air is crisp as are the nights. It's time for brisk walks and weekend picnics. I think of Hyeon. I think of the swimming pool. And the dinner I will be cooking for all the co-teachers. Dinner party in my bat cave should be interesting. The date is not yet set, but the event is imminent. Let's reactivate my olfactory first... Good night to the rhythm around me, good night and the sweetest of dreams...
This past weekend I went out on a date with Hyeon Gyeong- the girl with the swimmer's shoulders and the V-Line. We shared a good time in Hong Dae. She works as a marketing agent for a Ramien company. From 8 am to 7 pm she works, and then she goes to an English institute until 10 pm'ish studying English. I was wondering why the long feedback between texts~ and it was because of her long schedule. She's an odd ball, at least that is how her friends describe her. She doesn't mind spending lots of time alone, because she is normally studying English translations of English fiction or interview questions for the company. Her smile is a bit off-centered because her teeth are not aligned very well. The top row of teeth naturally drop over one row to the right. Her laugh will stop wars. She's a curious one who isn't so naive, but yet pure. We have chemistry.
The students are out of control because of mid-term exams. I had to raise my voice with 3 out of 5 classes today. My raspy voice was already struggling with a chest cold, but damn it, I had to do it. I'm kind with them, but when they step over with what is fair then I have to become the disciplinarian. For one thing, the ESL classes are much more relaxed than their normal 'Korean' classes. One way of controlling students (which is becoming quite controversial lately) is by hitting them. You are considered less of a man if you do not hit. It's a bit weird to the foreigner, but I don't do it. Don't get me wrong, I would hit my own child if it had to be done.
Working with adolescents is sometimes difficult for me to understand. They are in a period of self discovery. Their brains make rash decisions and at times they are raging with hormones. Boys are learning about pride and envy. Girls mature faster, but are overwhelmed with acceptance and appearance~ both sexes are concerned about this. I once described to a class that beauty comes from within. They looked at me like I was some kind of idiot.
It's late and I'm hungry. It's raining outside. The sound of splashing traffic zooming by can be heard. It's the sound of the city seven floors high. The silhouette of mountains line the sky. Come sunrise, spring colors return. Time to celebrate a hangover redemption, a child's birth- a new day. The morning air is crisp as are the nights. It's time for brisk walks and weekend picnics. I think of Hyeon. I think of the swimming pool. And the dinner I will be cooking for all the co-teachers. Dinner party in my bat cave should be interesting. The date is not yet set, but the event is imminent. Let's reactivate my olfactory first... Good night to the rhythm around me, good night and the sweetest of dreams...
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Spring Breaks Through~
It's about that time to store sweaters and coats and make room for tees, greens and yellows. Expecting the gym to start filling up with seasonal hard bodies. Time for light soups and young onions. The mountain scape of Korea thickens with cherry blossoms and evergreen- Lazarus a thousandfold awakens from the dead all around.
Seasonal points of transition are pretty. The ducks in the pond celebrate a homecoming. An egret swoops down for an early catch. What about those wild leeks?... what are they called? I always forget the name, but they're the venison of the onion family. ..yes! Ramps! What a delight they are. Pickle them in vinegar and add to salads, drape them over a roasted duck breast, or just maybe an hors dervous of lump crabmeat and ramp roulade. Is that pretentious or what?!
Actually, while I'm on a role. How about a Korean style pancake highlighting the beauty of spring onions? Take a cutie cake to the Hangang River and fill a picnic basket with a chilly Sauvignon Blanc, a few sand'miches and strawberries, and forget-about-it. Go figure a crossword or something! I crisscross my legs just thinking about it.
The date on Sunday should be interesting. I'm so living the single life, geez.. When I met her on the dance floor, she was practically pulling the protruding veins out of my forearms. She's got the swimmer's shoulders- her line comes down to the waist like a V-rang. I spin her and she flies back into place, her curls all up in my nostrils, bad-da-bing... You can't deny a bone ring in one hand and a flower in the other. You see, that is dancing to me:
Twirl with a smile
grip a coconut
separate and maybe catch a sparkle in her eye
read a palm, wiggle and doddle a finger along the lifeline
squeeze and give n' give and squeeze... blah blah blah
We will have a good time. I don't want to think about my schedule next week though, argh.. Midterm for the students. Whatever~
I need to restock my garlic and ginger... Try an onion or two, too.
Seasonal points of transition are pretty. The ducks in the pond celebrate a homecoming. An egret swoops down for an early catch. What about those wild leeks?... what are they called? I always forget the name, but they're the venison of the onion family. ..yes! Ramps! What a delight they are. Pickle them in vinegar and add to salads, drape them over a roasted duck breast, or just maybe an hors dervous of lump crabmeat and ramp roulade. Is that pretentious or what?!
Actually, while I'm on a role. How about a Korean style pancake highlighting the beauty of spring onions? Take a cutie cake to the Hangang River and fill a picnic basket with a chilly Sauvignon Blanc, a few sand'miches and strawberries, and forget-about-it. Go figure a crossword or something! I crisscross my legs just thinking about it.
The date on Sunday should be interesting. I'm so living the single life, geez.. When I met her on the dance floor, she was practically pulling the protruding veins out of my forearms. She's got the swimmer's shoulders- her line comes down to the waist like a V-rang. I spin her and she flies back into place, her curls all up in my nostrils, bad-da-bing... You can't deny a bone ring in one hand and a flower in the other. You see, that is dancing to me:
Twirl with a smile
grip a coconut
separate and maybe catch a sparkle in her eye
read a palm, wiggle and doddle a finger along the lifeline
squeeze and give n' give and squeeze... blah blah blah
We will have a good time. I don't want to think about my schedule next week though, argh.. Midterm for the students. Whatever~
I need to restock my garlic and ginger... Try an onion or two, too.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Korea meets Philippines~
I've been cooking different variations of Yukkaejang (Korean Beef Soup, Spicy). In my opinion, Korean Beef Soup is a grandmother dish. The aroma of Yukkaejang would spark childhood memories. My variation is chicken Yukkaejang. Really, the combination of spices in the recipe can be used for almost any protein~~ The key is that I'm beginning to understand how to make something red. I mean, I'm still fascinated by the process of producing French sauces- making a Sauce bourguignonne, a Buerre Blanc- the brown and white. I've even made a dazzling yellow corn sauce to accompany whole lobster~ being a saucier requires finesse...
Tonight, I was able to fuse primary ingredients of a beloved Bicol dish and a traditional Korean dish. Bicol Express is a spicy dish stewed with peppers and pork. The odor of pork is eliminated by ginger and lemon grass. This is a well known fact for cooking pork. The joke about Bicol Express is this: An interesting conversation begins with the cook cutting peppers and then the conversation ends with the cook still cutting peppers. Every bite is 1 part pork to 10 parts sliced pepper. The dish is enriched with coconut milk. The flavor profile is spicy, tear droppingly aromatic, and rich. It can be stored for a long time because the peppers are so concentrated, it kills any filthy bacteria.
Yukkaejang on the other hand uses gochu jang, red pepper powder, protein, and namul (vegetables). One can probably guess what the harmony is between these two dishes. Yes, they are both spicy. I'm not saying to simply mix gochujang with coconut milk, no. Surprisingly, the ingredient that made the dish was the fish sauce. Filipinos use Patis (fermented fish sauce) when adding green vegetables to soups and stews. It was the fermented odor of this addition which united the two cultures. Bicolanos would be taken aback by the smell of kakduggi/kimchi, as Koreans would be perplexed by the fatty full bodied flavor of Filippino stews. It was this stench of fermented fish that added the complexity. The creation was outright delicious.
Overall, I'm not quite sure what to call this red stew except 'Korea meets the Philippines', I don't know yet. As for fermented foods, I think all cultures have a stench that they can associate with. It's when you know you need to take a shower and yet, that odor makes you want to keep coming back for more.
Cooks note:
Skim the stew~~
Tonight, I was able to fuse primary ingredients of a beloved Bicol dish and a traditional Korean dish. Bicol Express is a spicy dish stewed with peppers and pork. The odor of pork is eliminated by ginger and lemon grass. This is a well known fact for cooking pork. The joke about Bicol Express is this: An interesting conversation begins with the cook cutting peppers and then the conversation ends with the cook still cutting peppers. Every bite is 1 part pork to 10 parts sliced pepper. The dish is enriched with coconut milk. The flavor profile is spicy, tear droppingly aromatic, and rich. It can be stored for a long time because the peppers are so concentrated, it kills any filthy bacteria.
Yukkaejang on the other hand uses gochu jang, red pepper powder, protein, and namul (vegetables). One can probably guess what the harmony is between these two dishes. Yes, they are both spicy. I'm not saying to simply mix gochujang with coconut milk, no. Surprisingly, the ingredient that made the dish was the fish sauce. Filipinos use Patis (fermented fish sauce) when adding green vegetables to soups and stews. It was the fermented odor of this addition which united the two cultures. Bicolanos would be taken aback by the smell of kakduggi/kimchi, as Koreans would be perplexed by the fatty full bodied flavor of Filippino stews. It was this stench of fermented fish that added the complexity. The creation was outright delicious.
Overall, I'm not quite sure what to call this red stew except 'Korea meets the Philippines', I don't know yet. As for fermented foods, I think all cultures have a stench that they can associate with. It's when you know you need to take a shower and yet, that odor makes you want to keep coming back for more.
Cooks note:
Skim the stew~~
Bimbimbap, A Story
Bibimpap: Mountain Vegetables
At the foot of the mountain the stream ran down in diagonal zigzags into a man-made ditch that led into a waterway underneath the city. Starting points and ending points always fascinated Kite since childhood. When he was six he would carefully line up dominoes, hundreds of them, all over the house using both simple and intricate patterns. This eventually brought him to that final moment when he would start the cascade.
By the way he laid them out, anyone would want to watch the pulse of the tiles spreading out to their fated end. The ripple of the dominoes sent chills up Kite’s spine. His creativity was bounded by rules he would set for himself. It was almost like he was trapped in the illusion of tipping dominoes, that if something went wrong in the design, it was his fault, that there was always going to be a more intricate and challenging pattern that needed to be made.
But the purpose and existence of every tile was to simply tip over and be set up again. Doing something completely different to the dominoes, say, like setting fire to them would be unfathomable. It was doing this unfathomable thing that would set Kite free, and he knew it and resisted it.
He and his brother had planned this hike at the beginning of spring. This would be their chance to do something together which they both liked. Since college they had grown apart for all the typical reasons like professional life and wanting to find their own destinies. Above all, it was just time to get away from each other.
With Sammy being the firstborn, he always had to play the saint, get the grades and set the example. Must’ve been hard on the guy, because now he just wants to do the exact opposite of what he did during his youth, which was to impress the folks. It’s great and all that now he wants to accomplish things for no specific person, but everything he says is too predictable and selfish.
As for Kite, his own divorce has left him all tied up tight inside, not able to even reach out to Sammy. Both of them needed this hike. They needed to be somewhere bigger than themselves. They needed to get something from the top of the mountain.
Muhak Mountain during the height of spring does not welcome the allergic. The scent of evergreen and cherry blossom fills every sense with sniffle or wonder-- or a combination of both. Sammy had the weaker system, easily prone to sickness. He never adopted a lifestyle to prevent it. The sweat on his protruding gut painted the silhouette of a giant heart.
“The shirt’s made of a synthetic that’ll easily dry it off,” says Sammy, who always buys the proper equipment to readyhimself for the disciplines of a trade.
Kite, on the other hand, had kept nimble over the years. Working out during his marriage was a means to blow off steam away from home. Nothing, however, was enough to prevent what wasn’t meant to be with his ex-wife. Kite thought of why he was trying to outstep his older brother, trying to go just a bit faster up the trail. Foolish to think of it as a race up a mountain, really. They’d been marching at a set, steady pace for hours and both of them were in equal stride like animals in migration.
It was odd to Kite how random thoughts fell through the mind while on a hike. Like dominoes. The decade apart had put layers of adulthood on them, but it couldn’t prevent the odd slip of lifelong identifications. The most obvious one was the older brother/younger brother complex. But standing on top of the mountain, though, none of that mattered. Looking out into the east, the bay glittered with silver and gold. The brothers squinted as the heat of the afternoon warmed their faces. Everyday dozens of Koreans hike up Muhak-san. For these two it was their first time, a souvenir set in stone, a simple journey taken together. At the base of the mountain, they knew it was soon time to part ways. But first, a roaring appetite had to be settled.
It came with no delay. It sizzled away all comparing, judging and fighting from their bodies. The kosari, carrots, green onion, spinach, zucchini, bean sprouts, beef and egg center resembled a clock that told them it was the hour to devour this meal.
The strange aroma of sesame and soy sauce, along with a tinge of gochujang, brought from the meal a mixture of imagery. The earthenware represented the mountain that stood over them. The dol-sot bibimpap served as the goodness Sammy and Kite had shared over the years. It was a homecoming in a simple bowl for these two.
By: Don NimbleToe
Edited: Socrates Bruce
By: Don NimbleToe
Edited: Socrates Bruce
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
A night of Salsa in Anyang, Korea
Her name was LeeMarie. University of Florida, so young then.
Didn't understand the flavor of hops and malt liquor, then. Cigarettes, sweat, and blasted ears were all common-place. Freedom was so new then. The dormitory was far away from a mother's detergent, the smell new, mixed with pancakes and feet. Disarray in college was a beginning, and now I understand that clutter and slop is something that's handled.
For the past 4 hours, I've watched salsa steps online. There is a step that has always intrigued me.
It was the magic trick that I never got. The step and hip sway was something that started one of the biggest
crushes of my life. During salsa night in college, I'd admire LeeMarie swing and turn. It was something that she never knew. Even when I got the part time job on campus where she worked (CRC: Career Resource Center)~ she was in the accounting dept. and I was the internship copy guy, every notice that went to her dept. I'd make sure that I would deliver it, personally. It was so pathetically juvenile... But that step, even when I'd try to learn it, I still don't understand it. Years go by, and we run into each other in NY, same step but on Alphabet Street. The city was new to her, but B and I new it well then. That was then... It doesn't matter, right? New York crushes everything... You lose your past but want it still, you confront conflict and then it nabs you at night. You deal, though... To me, that is NY, you deal and deal, and when you had enough, something changes... ya ya ya, right. I guess I never understood NY. It's any other place, but not home to me...
So, I've seen a few things since college. The swagger of a Latino on the dance floor. The vibe of a club. The energy of a disco. The stench of urine on floor. A Russian beer and the consonants lined up for one more blow of the stuff. Nothing is everything in a moment. An armpit drips with desire. A smile, a stare, a signal to come and then a second later, all else is now and now is here. But we've all heard of this freedom before, right? Next door, a rape of wits and yet she succumbs to his filthy breath. These are the things of the night. Pinocchio in a world without a master, nor father or stings attached. It's just you and me~ a deuce of hearts.
Dancing with a woman, a sexy one, is one of the greatest pleasures ever. It's a man's world dominated by the beauty of a woman~ a freedom that depends on one another with a smile or a tear or two in step. The magic trick I never got it, but the instructor loved dancing with me. I don't understand the magic step, even after watching it online repeatedly. None of this makes sense because I'm writing about an emotional response that's happened already~ a context joke. But I blinked, and I have lesson plans to do. The funny thing is, in my opinion, out of all the formulaic dancers the chubby one had the best rhythm. The Korean men lead knowing all the twists and turns, but I'm just passion and fundamentals. Oh-Hyeon (my co-teacher) was asking why I didn't want to ask the other women to dance. Three is more than enough~ you, the instructor and the chubby one in three hours... geez I'm not even warmed up baby, ha whatever. But seriously, it was a good night. I remember dancing with L in Busan, S.Korea at a Jazz pub. I know that magic step, I do... Hand in hand, it's just a walk, really. You decide...
Didn't understand the flavor of hops and malt liquor, then. Cigarettes, sweat, and blasted ears were all common-place. Freedom was so new then. The dormitory was far away from a mother's detergent, the smell new, mixed with pancakes and feet. Disarray in college was a beginning, and now I understand that clutter and slop is something that's handled.
For the past 4 hours, I've watched salsa steps online. There is a step that has always intrigued me.
It was the magic trick that I never got. The step and hip sway was something that started one of the biggest
crushes of my life. During salsa night in college, I'd admire LeeMarie swing and turn. It was something that she never knew. Even when I got the part time job on campus where she worked (CRC: Career Resource Center)~ she was in the accounting dept. and I was the internship copy guy, every notice that went to her dept. I'd make sure that I would deliver it, personally. It was so pathetically juvenile... But that step, even when I'd try to learn it, I still don't understand it. Years go by, and we run into each other in NY, same step but on Alphabet Street. The city was new to her, but B and I new it well then. That was then... It doesn't matter, right? New York crushes everything... You lose your past but want it still, you confront conflict and then it nabs you at night. You deal, though... To me, that is NY, you deal and deal, and when you had enough, something changes... ya ya ya, right. I guess I never understood NY. It's any other place, but not home to me...
So, I've seen a few things since college. The swagger of a Latino on the dance floor. The vibe of a club. The energy of a disco. The stench of urine on floor. A Russian beer and the consonants lined up for one more blow of the stuff. Nothing is everything in a moment. An armpit drips with desire. A smile, a stare, a signal to come and then a second later, all else is now and now is here. But we've all heard of this freedom before, right? Next door, a rape of wits and yet she succumbs to his filthy breath. These are the things of the night. Pinocchio in a world without a master, nor father or stings attached. It's just you and me~ a deuce of hearts.
Dancing with a woman, a sexy one, is one of the greatest pleasures ever. It's a man's world dominated by the beauty of a woman~ a freedom that depends on one another with a smile or a tear or two in step. The magic trick I never got it, but the instructor loved dancing with me. I don't understand the magic step, even after watching it online repeatedly. None of this makes sense because I'm writing about an emotional response that's happened already~ a context joke. But I blinked, and I have lesson plans to do. The funny thing is, in my opinion, out of all the formulaic dancers the chubby one had the best rhythm. The Korean men lead knowing all the twists and turns, but I'm just passion and fundamentals. Oh-Hyeon (my co-teacher) was asking why I didn't want to ask the other women to dance. Three is more than enough~ you, the instructor and the chubby one in three hours... geez I'm not even warmed up baby, ha whatever. But seriously, it was a good night. I remember dancing with L in Busan, S.Korea at a Jazz pub. I know that magic step, I do... Hand in hand, it's just a walk, really. You decide...
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Dak Yukkaejang
Two weeks ago, my hairdresser and I went to a trance club in Hongdae. Hongdae is party central in Seoul. It is near an Art College and the prestigious Ewha Women's University. People party until the sun comes up. The streets get littered, but come next afternoon the street cleaners do a thorough job. It's like a bunch of kids playing and then afterward, the parents come to clean up after their shit. Anyways, J and I decided to get a quick bite at a soup restaurant. It was about 2 degrees C on this fine evening. We went to a dope spot, which I forgot the name of (gosh doon-it) and low and behold, on the menu there is Yukkaejang.
It was then I understood how to make Yukkaejang. Eating it was like running a mile, I was sweating so much. The region of the Philippines where my family is from is Bicol. It's a region known for their spicy fare. I grew up with the tolerance. But I still sweat. Anyways, the ajuma at the restaurant added vermicelli noodles and eggplant. These two ingredients are not mentioned in Mrs. Chang's recipe.
For the past two days, I've made variations to the dish. Instead of using brisket, I used chicken. This variation is called Dak (chicken) Yukkaejang. Strips of beef can be added, but I find chicken does the trick just fine. My yukkaejang now is delicious. I can honestly say that I can make this dish without any measurements. And if someone says that my Yukkaejang is too spicy, well then I can say that you aren't used to Korean or Bicolano food, ha!
It was then I understood how to make Yukkaejang. Eating it was like running a mile, I was sweating so much. The region of the Philippines where my family is from is Bicol. It's a region known for their spicy fare. I grew up with the tolerance. But I still sweat. Anyways, the ajuma at the restaurant added vermicelli noodles and eggplant. These two ingredients are not mentioned in Mrs. Chang's recipe.
For the past two days, I've made variations to the dish. Instead of using brisket, I used chicken. This variation is called Dak (chicken) Yukkaejang. Strips of beef can be added, but I find chicken does the trick just fine. My yukkaejang now is delicious. I can honestly say that I can make this dish without any measurements. And if someone says that my Yukkaejang is too spicy, well then I can say that you aren't used to Korean or Bicolano food, ha!
Monday, April 5, 2010
Freshness
Keep it fresh Don. You're planning too much with these lesson plans. The moment you start explaining something with too many words, then the more you start sounding like a Charlie Brown adult to the students. Tomorrow, simplify and try more performance based lessons. Keep your word games as aces in your pocket. Use them too much, you'll start looking like a cerebral cortex. Your activities require too much concentration for that age range, not including the geeks~ You know about simplification. Keep that it mind champ. You're depending on the computer a bit too much, eh? Stay accurate, meaning keep the essence of the lesson, the topic of the chapter... don't worry about it. Now get some rest.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Easter Weekend
This weekend I plan to get much rest. The weather is supposed to be sunny, but a winter chill lingers. It's a bit of a tease. You want to dress down and soak in the sun, but winter is still fighting. I'm in a Starbucks doing mundane school work, tweaking lessons and making quizzes for mid-April. My motor skills are the primary things being used.
Well, not much is going on since my last moody entry about my internal meter going up and down. I gaze out into this tiny street in Sanbon, and I'm just staring really, nothing else. I'm due for a trip to Insa-dong for some incense and to visit the vegetarian restaurant. Later today, I hit the gym for my upper torso.
A whole chicken is defrosting in the fridge and still deciding to either cook it today or for Easter Sunday. The bird is only about 4 oz. The size is somewhere between a cornish hen and a typical roasting bird.
---- What I've been thinking about is my open class in October and also in September my cousin's wedding. First, the principal is not allowing me to take a 2 day leave for the wedding. The word is pretty much final because the event falls in the beginning of the new term. But you know what? I don't give a rat's ass. I'm calling in sick, damn it. This is a major family reunion, and my cousin is getting married to an awesome chap.
The open class for October is going to be interesting. The youngest and the prettiest Korean English teacher was chosen for me to co-teach with for the open class. The purpose of this event is for idea gathering. ESL instructors from all over the region come to observe the class. I've observed 4 classes so far. It's a good opportunity for new teachers to witness different methods. As for my open demonstration, it falls in the beginning of the term when I'm teaching the lower level students. I must build rapport quickly with these kids. I have plans, but it is definitely going to be challenging.
Now, off to the gym-->
Well, not much is going on since my last moody entry about my internal meter going up and down. I gaze out into this tiny street in Sanbon, and I'm just staring really, nothing else. I'm due for a trip to Insa-dong for some incense and to visit the vegetarian restaurant. Later today, I hit the gym for my upper torso.
A whole chicken is defrosting in the fridge and still deciding to either cook it today or for Easter Sunday. The bird is only about 4 oz. The size is somewhere between a cornish hen and a typical roasting bird.
---- What I've been thinking about is my open class in October and also in September my cousin's wedding. First, the principal is not allowing me to take a 2 day leave for the wedding. The word is pretty much final because the event falls in the beginning of the new term. But you know what? I don't give a rat's ass. I'm calling in sick, damn it. This is a major family reunion, and my cousin is getting married to an awesome chap.
The open class for October is going to be interesting. The youngest and the prettiest Korean English teacher was chosen for me to co-teach with for the open class. The purpose of this event is for idea gathering. ESL instructors from all over the region come to observe the class. I've observed 4 classes so far. It's a good opportunity for new teachers to witness different methods. As for my open demonstration, it falls in the beginning of the term when I'm teaching the lower level students. I must build rapport quickly with these kids. I have plans, but it is definitely going to be challenging.
Now, off to the gym-->
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