I know. I'm being a bastard about answering questions again. But I've got a legit excuse this time, no? Today is just three classes at work and Grams opted to stay home. So I technically have a bit of free time (should be working on exam questions and organizing my lesson plan paperwork, but there's only so much of that you can do in one stretch without feeling like you're going a bit mental). Buuuut. I don't feel like answering questions, anyway. Especially massive ones about the pros and cons of Korean vs. American culture in general -- Jesus fuck. It was a nice question, I guess, but shouldn't you really ask someone more qualified to answer? Like, maybe God?
What the real problem is, is that Grams has been here for three weekends now. I have had no time to play. In any sense of that word. And I will not get into the specifics, because my mother does read the blog (hi, mom), but even she knows what I mean. No alcohol. No late nights. No swear words. No... anything else that's fun, but not grandmother-proof.
And the weather is so nice and warm. Bastards are complaining about it being "hot" already -- it is not hot. And if you've lived in Korea for longer than a year, then you know better than to say that this is "hot" (I'm looking at you, Canadians). It is warm. It is not cold. It is fucking lovely, is what it is. And it makes me want to go out and play all the more.
The plan for this weekend is to cram in as much crap as possible on Saturday, avoid about seventeen invitations by coworkers to spend Grams' last night at their houses eating home-cooked meals (lovely as the offers may be) and then see her off at the airport Sunday morning. Then, I'm going to clean the shit out of my flat, walk my ass to Homeplus to pick up a DVD player (since my laptop has decided that telling me to get fucked is the correct way to respond when I put anything in the disc drive) and some fucking expensive Corona, go back to my clean flat, open every last door and window, sprawl out on the floor and get afternoon-shitfaced while watching Bertolucci films in my underwear (which is, just so you know, the only correct way to watch Bertolucci films).
And that's all I can really think about right now. So sorry about the questions. They'll just have to wait.