7.27.2009

Better tomorrow.

Every afternoon, without exception, it rains. You don't even think about it anymore. It's just a simple fact of life. Even if the sun is bright and perfect in the morning. To not pack an umbrella is just foolish. It will happen -- whether you have reason to believe it will, or not.

The school is lonely without the students, and you hardly even seen them around the neighborhood anymore, anyway. Everything is just slightly too quiet. Maybe everyone is in Jejudo. I'm not really sure. Today, at my co-teacher's prodding, I came home a bit early from work (after teaching in the morning) because I was in excruciating pain. Finished reading Sputnik Sweetheart in a sort of feverish state, just before nodding off, which is an interesting way to read anything from Murakami. Needless to say, missed another Korean class.

Something screwy's going on with my body, and I want to blame that for this weekend. I kept saying, I don't feel good, not all the way believing it myself and certainly not convincing anyone else, who saw that I seemed perfectly fine, other than being a bit down and not really eating. If they could see me now, they'd believe me. Just legitimately sick. Although I know that one can lead to the other.

Saturday was jumping from gallery to gallery in Insadong, where the only thing that really caught my interest (other than arguing over medium with Small Town, when we couldn't read the placards in Korean) was an exhibition of children's paintings. Everything else just struck me as mediocre at best, completely meaningless at worst, besides the odd painting here and there. The antique shops, overflowing with absolute loads of nonsense, on the other hand, were quite worth the while. As was catching a look at a table on the sidewalk full of hats, surrounded by nearly fifty people, all frantically trying them on. I did manage to find a pair of sunglasses -- well, wait. Let me tell this story as a bit of an aside.

On Monday night, after class, when I met C and J for dinner, I had my sunglasses (which I never wear, due to them being far too big for my face) clipped to my shirt. It had started out a sunny day (although, by then, it was raining) and I figured I might just wear them anyway, but I hadn't, in the end. C took them and tried them on and they suited his larger frame quite nicely. I said he could keep them. But, in the end, on Wednesday he informed me, he had given them to J, who wanted them quite badly. In Insadong, I found a pair just like them to replace the ones C had given away.

Saturday night was a load of nonsense that involved me drinking too many beers too quickly on an empty stomach and stuck talking to literally the most obnoxious kyopo on the face of the planet -- or, rather, led to him talking at me, while I mostly stared off into space. I let the boys get me quite worked up about a number of things. Sunday morning saw me ignoring texts and phone calls from C, until he finally just came over. Wasn't much for company, due to being in a shitty mood (more, "I just don't feel good", more not really buying it, I think). But he left me his sunglasses in exchange, and I think I might actually wear those. Chatted for a bit to Small Town on the phone in the evening. It's easy to tell him things. I think he sees through everything, anyway.

Now I think I'll head back to bed for more hit-or-miss snoozing, maybe start another Murakami novel. I should have stopped at the pharmacy on the way home, but could think only of making it to bed and out of the rain. I hope I feel better tomorrow.

Oh. And as I was nodding off this afternoon, I was just sure I heard someone in a nearby apartment pounding away on a typewriter. I wonder what it would take to find out who it was.






2 comments:

Tuttle said...

Love the hat photo!

Who has a typewriter anymore? I have one, but it's in storage and I couldn't find a new ribbon for it last time I looked, anyway.

I'm no Picasso said...

I don't know what got them so excited about that table of hats. It was great to watch, though.

I have a typewriter but sadly, it's at home. If you were in the States, to find a ribbon, all you'd have to do is run to the local Staples or whatever. They still have them there, although who knows for how long.

Today I was able to identify the window the typing was coming out of. Not sure what to do now, though. I don't think they'd take kindly to a foreigner shouting in through the window, "TYPEWRITER! JANG!"