I started this blog as a way to record random goings on during my travels in Korea and one year later I find myself in the very same position. Back in Korea and back to the blog, who knew that in one year I would once again be embarking on my journey to TOEFL education and Korean gym fitness?
But third time's a charm right?
I had plenty of charming experiences the first and second time around so who knows what sort of surprises a third visit will present. I will keep you posted.
Until classes and life start full swing in about a week, I'm going to wax nostalgic about my time in Spain. Because as painful, and lonely, and allergenic as it was at times, I can't help but feel a slight pain in my heart as I look at all my photos from the trip. So maybe my Lonely Planet was right about one thing. I did fall in love with Madrid. I can't say it was always pretty but then again when you're really FALLING for/to/from anything, when is it ever pretty?
In the spirit of my original title for this blog, I'm going to try really hard to stay positive on this blog. Complaints no more. Odes abound.
So here's to you, Madrid. And yes, even to you, Barcelona.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Afternoon Delight
After one beer, two enchiladas, three chicken fajitas, and two scoops of quite possibly the most incredible mango ice cream ever...
I am satisfied.
'Twas time that I gave into my gastronomic desires and did something to distract myself from my first ever allergy attack. Too bad I forgot my camera.
Now time for a siesta.
I am satisfied.
'Twas time that I gave into my gastronomic desires and did something to distract myself from my first ever allergy attack. Too bad I forgot my camera.
Now time for a siesta.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Breaking Down...Almost
I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. And I've seen Almodovar's rendition of what women do when they are on the verge: they burn things, throw phones through windows, try to jump off buildings, and put prescription drugs in gazpacho. I only searched frantically for return trips home a week or two early had somehow arrived at the point where spending that amount of money actually seemed worth it. Maybe it would have been worth it. I only have a week in the States before it's off to Korea again and I've already scheduled a short trip to Austin. It'll all be a New York minute in sleepy Texas.
I'm better now. And by "better" I mean that I've decided to stay and save myself the trouble of a wallet full of airline woes. People troubles, language troubles, and roommate troubles aside, I'm not going to give up like this. One hamburger and a side of fries and onion rings later, I was planning out my last couple weeks in Madrid and pining over overpriced clothes and shoes online.
I've already gotten over the fact that I'm not as extroverted as I want to be. I keep thinking of certain friends and asking myself, "What would ______ do?" But thought never follows through to execution and I resign myself to going to the park alone or searching for a good movie to watch. What troubles me the most is how close these "tough" times have gotten into breakdown territory. I don't think I've ever really had a breakdown, but then has any of us?
When I first read about the Virginia Tech shootings on the New York Times, I was completely shocked. And then I continued to check the Times as the saga unraveled over the course of the following days/weeks in what seemed a disturbingly formulaic manner. Were they releasing the information as an imitation of a previous law & order episode, or was the media frenzy inadvertently setting up the next perfect episode? Nevertheless, an unfortunate soul had been pushed beyond the verge and America had to deal with another "breakdown" with devastating consequences.
A couple days ago I had the sudden craving for Taco Cabana. It was intense. Like pregnant lady intense. There was no tex-mex trigger; it just happened on my walk home from class. I could picture the haphazard wrapping of aluminum foil, the bean and cheese mix inside the warm tortilla...the smell...the touch...everything. Whilst salivating ravenously, I had the urge in my fingers, tingling sensations running up arms, to grab someone by the neck and yell, "GET ME SOME TACO CABANA!!!!!!!!" It was all really uncalled for and ofcourse I didn't strangle anyone.
Earlier in the week I had the burning desire to throw my notebook at a group of girls in my Spanish class. This isn't completely unwarranted. On certain days, there are up to 5 German girls--in a class of about 8 total. Mind you, this is a Spanish class and yet these girls speak in German among themselves, WHILE the teacher is speaking. And ofcourse to me, it's all talk of "streudel" and "bratwurst"; who knows what they're saying? I contemplated telling them to shut up but somehow a notebook to the face and perhaps a pen to follow up seemed more appropriate. Remember...I was just on the verge.
Almodovar has an incredible way of making the crazy and abnormal seem completely humane and compelling. Even when a woman tries to kill her husband in the airport, you don't want to send her to an insane asylum; you just want to give her a hug and tell her everything's going to be ok. But I wonder. How long will it be until my nerve tinglings catch up with my brain and I'm suddenly pushed over the edge? It would comfort me to know that I'm not the only that may potentially get my gun license revoked because of taco torture and classroom hit and run.
I'm better now. And by "better" I mean that I've decided to stay and save myself the trouble of a wallet full of airline woes. People troubles, language troubles, and roommate troubles aside, I'm not going to give up like this. One hamburger and a side of fries and onion rings later, I was planning out my last couple weeks in Madrid and pining over overpriced clothes and shoes online.
I've already gotten over the fact that I'm not as extroverted as I want to be. I keep thinking of certain friends and asking myself, "What would ______ do?" But thought never follows through to execution and I resign myself to going to the park alone or searching for a good movie to watch. What troubles me the most is how close these "tough" times have gotten into breakdown territory. I don't think I've ever really had a breakdown, but then has any of us?
When I first read about the Virginia Tech shootings on the New York Times, I was completely shocked. And then I continued to check the Times as the saga unraveled over the course of the following days/weeks in what seemed a disturbingly formulaic manner. Were they releasing the information as an imitation of a previous law & order episode, or was the media frenzy inadvertently setting up the next perfect episode? Nevertheless, an unfortunate soul had been pushed beyond the verge and America had to deal with another "breakdown" with devastating consequences.
A couple days ago I had the sudden craving for Taco Cabana. It was intense. Like pregnant lady intense. There was no tex-mex trigger; it just happened on my walk home from class. I could picture the haphazard wrapping of aluminum foil, the bean and cheese mix inside the warm tortilla...the smell...the touch...everything. Whilst salivating ravenously, I had the urge in my fingers, tingling sensations running up arms, to grab someone by the neck and yell, "GET ME SOME TACO CABANA!!!!!!!!" It was all really uncalled for and ofcourse I didn't strangle anyone.
Earlier in the week I had the burning desire to throw my notebook at a group of girls in my Spanish class. This isn't completely unwarranted. On certain days, there are up to 5 German girls--in a class of about 8 total. Mind you, this is a Spanish class and yet these girls speak in German among themselves, WHILE the teacher is speaking. And ofcourse to me, it's all talk of "streudel" and "bratwurst"; who knows what they're saying? I contemplated telling them to shut up but somehow a notebook to the face and perhaps a pen to follow up seemed more appropriate. Remember...I was just on the verge.
Almodovar has an incredible way of making the crazy and abnormal seem completely humane and compelling. Even when a woman tries to kill her husband in the airport, you don't want to send her to an insane asylum; you just want to give her a hug and tell her everything's going to be ok. But I wonder. How long will it be until my nerve tinglings catch up with my brain and I'm suddenly pushed over the edge? It would comfort me to know that I'm not the only that may potentially get my gun license revoked because of taco torture and classroom hit and run.
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