My Funniest IM ever....

NB: I'm worried about you all alone walking in the nasty rain and with bad people all around spitting on the ground and making it slick with saliva. Are you home yet???

[11:03:57 AM] Chad Gooch says: Yeah, I made it. finally this morning at about 10am. I'd been out all night trying to find a way back home. First, I slipped on someone's saliva and fell into a puddle. Then while I was down, an old man who was slurping his teeth hawked up a big loogie right on my head. I tried to find a jimjilbang to dry off and lay my head for the night, but didn't have the money to pay for it, nor did I have enough to pay for a taxi home. Since I didnt' know where I was, and all the skinny legged chicks had all started to go in doors with there boyfriends to escape the pouring rain, I did't have much luck with finding anyone to help me with directions. So I found a broken discarded umbrella on the sidewalk and huddled under it, until someone was nice enough to throw me some change. It was enough to get me into a bath house, so I spent an hour searching for anyone that still might be on the streets asking, "Jimjilbang, jimjilbang." Finally, I happened upon one, only to find out that the word had gotten out around town that a some foreigner had stolen the keys to a jimjilbang shoe locker, so I was rejected. I found a bush to lay my head in until sunlight, when I was able to recognize some buildings and find my way home.

Do Something For China

The other day I met this fabulous artist named Brenda Chat. She asked me sing at a benefit she was putting together to help the victims of the recent floods and earthquake in China. Of course I said yes...maybe some of you remember that I was feeling a little hopeless in the immediate aftermath of the disasters and I've been praying for a way to help more significantly. Voila! A way is born. I've been helping brenda with some of the planning and organization for the event and it's been a whirlwind but we're up and running.

Here's a link to the blog that I put together to help explain our mission. http://www.dosomethingforchina.blogspot.com/ . You can see a few of the images and event details here. I hope you can make it...even if you aren't planning to bid on art work, your 10,000 won cover charge will go directly toward the cause.

We're still looking for artists who want to donate artwork too...so if you are one or you know one, send them my way!

Just Another Music Blog...

Sometimes I don't care about listening to music. I know that might seem hard to believe, but it's true. I go months where I crave quiet in my ears, head and house. I like the hour of complete silence in the morning when I wake up. But then, I'll have times of absolute obsession, like right now. I have so much GOOD music ringing through me right now that I'm humming it down the halls of school, plugging in the minute I walk out the door and turning it up at home. I know I'm behind the curve, but Vampire Weekend, Margot and the Nuclear So and So's, a mini Elvis Costello revival, Josh Ritter, the old 97's new one and a weird song by April March called "Coral Bracelets" have been catching my fancy as of late. What's your new musical obsession? I think this might last for a while and I'd like some new suggestions....

RHETT IS BACK! crush rekindled.

As if I needed another reason to love the Old 97's...the new album, Blame It On Gravity, is like a little love letter to themselves circa the Hitchhike to Rhome era. I'm listening on repeat. I'm swooning (I hate that word, but it's sooo true). You know I love Rhett. http://normalgirls.blogspot.com/search?q=rhett+miller and now you should buy the album on itunes and discover how I fell in love.

Swiss Chocolate vs. phone bill

There's an international lovestory unfolding in front of me at school. It's reminding me a lot of my own hollywood-esque adventure almost two years ago. (whoa. can you believe that??? TWO YEARS!) Today, I came into the office to discover a package on my coworkers desk from switzerland, the land of her true love...I ran down the hall (imagine it in slow motion) waving the package over my head, screaming "K, it's here! It's here!" She opened the package in the middle of a class with interested school children gathered around breathlessly waiting to see if the rumor of chocolate was true. It was. Chocolate. Flight of the Conchords DVD. A handwritten letter. All the things necessary to win a girl's heart across oceans. Lovely. Lovely. Vicariously Lovely. Love.

I wandered back down the hall sighing. So good to see a good girl get what she deserves. As I meandered back to my desk ready to pound out a few more lesson plans, I thought, wouldn't it be great to discover that in my haste, I missed the equally exciting letter that was sitting on my desk? Well there was a letter, but it was from LG telecommunications telling me that I owe them 50,000 won for a phone that only rings when I don't want it to and rarely illicites excitement.

This is hot on the heels of a bizarre sort of "psuedo breakup" phone call that I got from one of my male friends recently in which he told me that he was getting married (excellent! it's about time) but that necessarily meant that our relationship was curtailed and thanks for the time that we've spent together, blah blah blah "I'm a different man because I knew you" and via con dios. I felt lame. Am I the kind of girl that you have to actually say that out loud to? We were HARDLY BFF and I've had lots of male friends get married and never once have I had to be friend dumped.

So that's the story this week, kids. The phone bill wins. It's my life at the moment. So if you want to call me, I have skype and I'll probably pay the bill at some point.

The underbelly of Seoul

Monday Morning. Early. Groggy from the weekend's festivities.
J and I are conversing in hushed, tired tones as we walk to the bus.
Another day. Another old man on a bicycle approaches. Everything is as it always is.
But wait. Something is very wrong. J screams and jumps back. I turn my head toward the line of her vision only to recoil in surprise with an audible, "WHAT???". The old man, driving his bike with one handed abandon has his pants unzipped and is hurriedly wrestling something back into the crotch area while muttering to himself under his breath and OH MY GOSH, did I really need to see that on a monday? We stumble giggling to the bus stop, a little unsure of what just happened, but sure of one thing: Mondays and old man fleshy flashers don't mix.

***********************************

Wednesday. I'm getting things ready for a cooking class, digging through the cabinets of the school kitchen. Everyone in the kitchen staff has gone home for the day and I have no clue where anything is. So I'm excavating and slowly finding what I need when I see something odd. A big silver bowl under the kitchen cabinets filled with what appears to be meat. That's right. meat. PORK. Right next to the mixing bowls in the cabinet under the sink which is located, ironically, next to the empty refrigerator. I start to wonder if someone forgot it there, but then I realized, no no no...that's not forgotten meat, that's tomorrow's lunch, gathering bacteria and slowly marinating in it's own botchulistic (I think I just made that word up) juices. I told on the cafeteria lady. I couldn't help myself. I have to eat this stuff and who knows how many times before this she's flirted with my destiny in that cabinet....? Needless to say, today, The girls and I are going OUT for lunch.

What's weighing YOU down?

One of my students thinks he is a dinosaur. Really. Ask him to draw a self portrait and you'll get a detailed rendering of some prehistoric beast. Depending on the day, it's a triceratops, t-rex or that one dinosaur who runs really fast and freaks me the hell out in Jurassic park. He can move like a dinosaur, make noises like a dinosaur and claw his fellow kindergarteners with the agility of a dinosaur. Many a kid has come away from an attack howling like a monkey and yelling in broken english, "T J and dinosaur and hit and scratch and no!"

Last week, we went to the Korean Folk Village for our fieldtrip. When you are herding 5 year olds around a crowded tourist destination, it's pretty imperative that everyone move quickly and keep up with the teacher. Unfortunately, Dinosaur Boy was moving at an appropriately glacial pace throughout most of the trip. The day wore on. The sun got hotter. I got tired of dragging him through crowds of gaping, photo snapping US veterans while hollering to the other kids to slow down! SLOW DOWN! So I took DB (dinosaur boy) and another offender back to the bus a bit early, leaving my co-teacher with the other perfectly behaved children. We walked slowly but surely through the park and ended up on a bench just before the entrance to wait for the rest of the school to meet us for the bus ride home.

After a tiny bit of relaxation, DB wandered away and began to nonchalantly examine a tree a short distance from our bench. I was keeping an eye on him just in case he got a burst of uncharacteristic dinosaur energy and darted away like a veloceraptor on crack. What I saw amazed me. Quietly, while pretending to be enraptured by the tree, he dug into his sweat pant pocket and dropped a rock the size of new hampshire at the base of the tree. Then, looking up furitively and noticing that I was watching, he wandered around to the other side of the tree and rid himself of another massive rock. I stood up and went to confront him. Upon closer examination, I discovered that this wasn't the end of the collection. 10 more smaller rocks, a metal key chain, some sticks and a few stickers later, his pockets were finally empty of the 4o pounds this kid was packing around the folk village. NO WONDER he was moving slowly. And of course I was trying to contain my laughter while maintaining a hardline about why it is not a good idea to bring your dinosaur habitat WITH YOU back to school. But I failed. I mean, really, how can you keep a straight face when this guy is staring up at you in abject shame and asking if he can "just keep one????"

THE CULPRIT

THE REVEAL
THE GOODS

THE CRIME SCENE

I would also just like to point out that someone taught my students the phrases, "I have no energy." and "I'm starving!" I've worked in fieldtrips before and know that these two things are a requisite refrain for any out of doors experience, but before I could blissfully ignore it when it was repeated over and over again in Korean. This time, I was very aware. So I made them act it out for the camera. Here is "I'm STARVING"

And "I have no energy."

I think my job here is done.

I Got the Shakes...

Today I've had two diet cokes, which, added to the stress and anxiety of a regional singles conference coming up this weekend, makes me more jittery than usual...I can't stop bouncing my leg and I jump at the slightest provocation. My students, the other teachers, a piece of paper.

I would also like to discuss the fact that, in order to cut down on expensive teacher gifts (like $60 MAC eyeshadows and $100 bottles of wine) from parents who may or may not have ulterior motives, the administrators at my school have advised the moms to FEED US. Yes, because it is much better to have homely, makeup-less teachers with double chins that scare the children. Just today the menu included:

3 boxes of Krispy Kreme Donuts
1 grape/chocolate cake (don't get me started. I've had chocolate fondue with cherry TOMATOES here)
12 little mini cheesecake type things
10 vitamin C drinks (for our health, hahhahahaha)
oreos
sunchips

It's 4:50pm and I'm just waiting for the late entries to vie for our attention. Who knows what tomorrow holds!

And, just to let you know, one of the seamonkeys (TM) left for dead, made a miraculous Lazarus-like recovery and now sports a wraith like body and what appear to be testicles (unless they are egg sacks..my gender awareness with seamonkeys is sorely lacking) Will we have Sea Monkey Babies? I can't find the babydaddy if that's the case, but knowing the way things go these days, she/he probably ate the mate. oh, I don't liek the word "mate".

Who You Gonna Call??? DUSTBUSTER!

I thought I was happy....and then I got a dustbuster. Now I know what true happiness is and it looks like "spot cleaning ala carte". My Korean home is so tiny that my usual habit of leaving coins (they drop and I just can't be bothered...really, do they have to be so flat and round?) and bobby pins (prom hair takes a lot of metal) all over the floor can make it look like a tornado blew through Bizwell #215. But no more. Now I just bust my dust and the world is clean again.

The funny thing is that I've never been very OCD about cleaning...but now I can't help myself. Every chance I get I'm pulling out the dustbuster to pick up anything. I drop a cracker and instead of picking it up, I step on it and grind it down JUST SO I CAN USE THE DUSTBUSTER. If this keeps up, I might need professional help.

Inspiration comes....

I haven't written a song since I got here. Finally...

To Lumina who taught Korea how to teach us.

She'll take you in and break you apart

She'll wrap her hands around your heart

You are finally safe here in this deep conviction

You are never allowed into the contradiction

Everything is simple if we just remain blind.

But when her lanterns light the sky on fire

Wrapping streets in fever pitch desire

You can finally believe

You can finally count, you can finally concede

That everything is simple; Everything is by design.

What you get and what you need

may never be reconciled

but who you are and what she sees

are perfectly aligned.

They're perfectly aligned.

Oh, Seoul.

Maybe her soul's jerusalem.

You can't figure it out, but you will learn to bow and bend.

There's a height that you've finally found

in her mountains, her oceans, her body's fertile ground.

Everything's decided. She's finally resigned.

And what you get and what you need

may never be reconciled

but who you are and what she sees

are perfectly aligned.

They're perfectly aligned.

Oh. Seoul.

A blog about poems but not a poem about blogs

well it seems like just last year that it was national poetry month...oh, right...because it was. As April comes to a close I feel to honor this month that honors something that has been such a huge part of my life at every stage

As a hapless, nerdy 16 year old discovering Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, Seamus Heaney and shock! and awe! Indigo Girls and Tori Amos
As an almostadult discovering the power of confessional poetry and Frank O'Hara's New York
As a student finding my heartbeat mirrored with more beauty than seemed possible in Yusef Komunyakaa, Louise Gluck, Langston Hughes, Amiri Baraka, Barrett Watten, Elizabeth Bishop,
Being taught by susan stewart (oh, sigh. beautiful language magician) and language poet Bob Perelman...
As a working stiff serving wine and cheese to the poetry world at the Kelly Writers House, slinking through literary conversations as though I belonged there... idolizing poets Kerry Sherin, Heather Starr and the universe that held them.
As an indoor poetry kid, sharing stories and words and jokes with brilliant poets all just trying to keep our words alive beyond desk jobs- nano, natalie, shari, jerry, john, adri
as a dreamer drifting off to the sounds of Ranier Maria Rilke poems and Ray Lamontagne songs...

I believe! I believe! I believe!

"Words ought to be a little wild for they are the assault of thought on the unthinking." -Oscar Wilde


I wrote something finally last night. I don't really care if it's good. I don't really care if anyone likes it. If you google Susan Stewarts name and get to this page, this is no indication of her talent as a teacher. It's just the tinkling sound of something that's been quiet for a long time.

After Walking on That Treadmill

We were children.
We could do splits and turn our bodies like windmills.
Here we were anchors, finally
strong against the pull of our tendons and young skin.
We could lay down with one foot high into the blue and the other
pressed against the ground to feel the rhythm of kingdoms beneath us;
Kingdoms where they lifted 150 times their body weight
And carried food without guilt- A prize.

I came back here with sweaty lips and matted hair
To see if I could find you somewhere in there.
Under brown layers of decomposing things
you were brought once
held high above the heads of everyone
moved along like an ocean liner on a sea of black bodies
and tossed lightly home.
Under blankets,
Under skin.
You did exist.
You do now, pressed between the spider and decaying leaves
Positioned like powder
Ready to dissipate, a disintegrating fossil of a raisin
You give life to the air.

And I am peaceful about it now

You knew it was coming. If you've known me, you've expected it. Even I expected it. So it was no surprise that after a straight week of complaining that I looked like a chick in some 1987 Whitesnake video, I chopped off all my hair. The surprising thing was how emotional it was for me. The haircut was a little bit like choosing to kill a dream. Long haired Girl NO MORE. Now everytime I look at a girl with long hair who is successfully pulling it off, I feel a little like I did when I was a kid watching "Kids Incorporated" or "The New Mickey Mouse Club". I could do that....if I wanted to....

hmmmm....

All the Sea Monkeys (TM) are dead

That's right. I killed all the sea monkeys (TM) that were supposed to be the pinnacle of our unit on Life Cycles. They were meant to hatch, flourish, procreate and wear little sea monkey outfits to the little sea monkey mall demonstrating to 16 curious first graders the miracle of life. But I didn't pump any oxygen into their little pink castle tank and now instead of a thriving urban metropolis, it is an underwater mass sea monkey graveyard. When the kids shake it, all the limp lifeless bodies of our class pets float to the top giving the illusion of activity and spirit. But like a snowglobe, it's revealed as a cruel cruel illusionary trick when the murky water settles.

If this is any indication of my future parenting skills, perhaps it is better that I'm single and fruitless.

Sea Monkeys RIP 2008.

Watch the guy in the front

He can't decide if he's going to pass out, finish the song or act like a gorilla. Sometimes he just needs a little break....just keep watching. This is why I come to work everyday.

Wasting TIme With You...

I don't want to work. In fact, right now, I wish I had an internet boyfriend. Someone that was willing to chat incessently with me on IM from wherever he existed in the world. Someone that made me get all riled up when the orange light dings. It can be our secret. I would like to have a secret right now.

But alas, I am just blogging. Sipping a diet coke, thinking about the work I should be doing, ignoring the chatter of 5 year olds in the hallway, suppressing that teacherly instinct that would normally make me jump up and hunt down the loud ones in order to force contrite hallway repentance.

I'm thinking about all the poems, pictures, music and words that I lost in the harddrive debaucle of 2008 and wishing that I wasn't feeling nostalgic for Salt Lake right now. Or rather, I want to just melt into the nostalgia and look at pictures of my old apartment, my old life, my old work but I can't.

It's spring here. The trees exploded over the weekend. I want to write an urban pastoral poem about it. I don't take good pictures, well not artistic ones anyway so I'm left trying to describe it in words.

Pink fireworks/ quickly thrown buildings outlined in cherry blossoms/ then simple yellow trickling from bent branches, heavy with the weight of regeneration/ the defeat of angles/ the ascent of probable and maybe/ I will view this river brown water / it will continue / where I walk.

Ok, maybe I'm not good at that either. I guess you'll just have to come to Korea to really experience it. I like it here.