One hundred and seventy-five

Perhaps you wonder sometimes, "how Kyle unwinds after a hard day at work?"  You wonder "how is Kyle fulfilling himself spiritually?"  You wonder "how much time does Kyle waste?  A normal amount, or an especially aggregious amount?"

Let me let you in my friends, to my process.

Do you recognize these?  What did you learn when you had to glue twenty-five strips of paper together in the second grade?  I hope you didn't just rip one every day until Christmas and then forget about it.  Hanging on my ceiling are, or I should say were a hundred and seventy-five circles.  I made them out of used handouts from school and I didn't cut any of the paper, but folded the A4 sheets into thirds and then licked the crease to break down the fiberous bonds in the paper and tore them free hand.  They are the amount of days until February 28th, which is when my contract ends.  I don't know what will happen after that, but every day until then I will rip a circle and write something about my day on it and then paste it into a book. 

I used green duct tape on every 9th or tenth ring to hold it all up.  When I pull the green tape off it takes a little piece of my ceiling off, which isn't great, but I'm not worried.  These are some of my days, and I don't know what that means any more than you do but this is how I like to look at them. 

It's currently Chusok, which is Korea's Thanksgiving, which is about their biggest holiday, which means I'm off all this week and hence I am leaving tomorrow for a vacation. 

Wish me good weather.  I'll be in a tent.

The left side is my strong side

Over the summer I grew back my two-thirds indy one-third patchy beard that I hope is a trademark but is probably a social liability.  Facial hair is not well regarded in Korea.  I am simultaniously mounting a small campaign of defiance and submitting to my own slovenliness and it's all happening on my face.  I have passed it off to the teachers at my school as an authentic piece of Canadian culture that runs from nose to neck. 

When the girls hold invisible razors and scrape them down their faces I agree with them that yes, they do need to shave.  When the scream in protest I walk away and pretend I don't hear them. Being the adult means I get to choose when to act like one.  When the boys call me 'Kyle Beckham' I don't let it go to my head because they call any picture of a black man 'Obama'.  When I need to trim it for teacher picture day, I tell you about it first.

A leper colony with wifi please

At the hospital today I saw a man in a long white lab coat use the bathroom and then not was his hands.  I saw an elderly woman being wheeled through a crowd with dried blood all over her face.  I'm beginning to realize why people say they don't like hospitals. 

I told my doctor that in the past few days what feels like my tonsils have become very sore.  She quickly peeked in my mouth and told me that they looked fine, that maybe there was some swelling down lower but that she wasn't going to check, (she didn't actually say this last part.  She just didn't check and I got the message).  She said that the anti-biotics I'm on will make it feel better.  I pointed out that they'd begun to hurt and had gotten worst over the last three days, during which I've been on the drugs.  She told me it must therefor be viral and that I should drink tea and wear scarves. This is the sort of advice I take as a green light for self medication.

Monday's Snack Food Wrap Up: Strawberry Ice Cream

Is it good?  Of course it's good.  It's five dollars and it comes in a container sized just big enough so that you feel like a depraved man for eating the entire thing in one sitting even though every body does it.  It tastes like strawberries and expensive things that I usually deny myself in favour of the bulk option.  It numbs my sore throat at makes my constant companion, the boring glass of water, feel extra warm in my mouth by comparison.

But then if it seems like I am taking the doctor's lack of attention to my throat as a sign that I have slipped in her eyes from legitimate medical concern to "whiner", then it's because despite the evidence under my own chin I'm so tired of being sick that I can't even stand to hear me come back with a new left field symptom.  Who gets tonsillitis while they're already on a slew of medication?   Not me, I'm not a sick person.  Getting habitually sick is, in my opinion, generally left to people who complain about their bad day like they never heard the words "starving" and "Africa" before.  And yet I'm drinking lemon tea and chicken broth like my name's Nancy.  (Nancy the sort of name for someone who gets sick more than most.  Nothing personal Nancy's). 

Someone remind me that I have to make a doctor's appointment in February.  I spent 70 bucks today because it turns out I'm not immunized for Hep A and they need to give me the other half of that needle six months from now or else I'm only half immune or super un-immune or something.  Until then I'm not talking about being sick ever again.