Smoonooz

Item 1: l'exode

I'm moving on Wednesday morning, finally ripping myself away from the clutches of my well-intentioned-but-control-freakish Adjoshi. I suppose he's jumping for joy: renovation can proceed at maximum warp now, Captain. The Death Star will be completed on schedule.

Unfortunately, I'm getting the impression that Adjoshi's renovations are a bit like George Lucas's alterations of the original Star Wars movies: he's changing all the wrong things. I understand and agree with redoing the upstairs floor; it was in pretty rough shape. I also agree it's a good move to renovate that skanky bathroom. But what about the damn walls, man? The walls are ancient wood paneling and need to be restored, but it doesn't look as though that's gonna happen. And outside, there's the problem with the courtyard, which should be paved over instead of inundated with gravel. And are you gonna do anything about the prehistoric wiring? Or the atherosclerotic pipes?

Ah, well. Not my problem. Not my money. And thank God I'm not in charge.


Item 2: que linda eres

I have to find out who this lady is, who so brightens our shared office space with her open expression and winning smile. She's a Korean teacher at Smoo (i.e., I could take lessons from her if the schedule matches and she teaches intermediate-level students), and we'll be sharing the same office space. No, this isn't the "peeking lady" I mentioned before (though she was gorgeous); this is someone else. Not gorgeous, but easily beautiful.

With my luck, she'll be married or have an iron-pumping boyfriend who provides her with trans-tantric sexual überbliss three times a day. But damn, she's something. Damn, damn, damn. Timing on this stinks, since I'm still raw from my pre-Easter go-around, but if I've learned anything from the cold, gloomy, and negative X*, it's that it's healthier to focus on the beautiful and the positive, and to move your life forward. Hope, like morning wood, springs eternal.

This astounds me. I'll be working with someone who looks like that? She'd better be a nice person, dammit. I'm sick of the cruel ones. But I'm gonna stay positive about this: even if she's married... who resents the presence a pretty flower, right? Best to find out early, so I can institute my Look But Don't Touch policy with only a twinge of disappointment, instead of experiencing the scrotum-torquing sadness that comes after wasting months on fruitless labor.

Ahhhhh, women. Despite recent experiences, I still contend that women are works of art, each one a source of unique beauty. This is what it means to be male: to have your teeth kicked out and balls ripped off, and to grin through the pain, shambling eagerly forward like a toothless, nutless zombie, hungry for more punishment.

And ladies: it should be noted that many men are fantastic sources of fromunda cheese.

I need to find out the answer to the is-Cutie-married question quickly. Time is precious. Luckily, I know just whom to ask tomorrow. I'm hoping for positive info: didn't see any rings on her fingers... then again, in Korea, that doesn't mean anything. Married people here routinely neglect their wedding rings, which don't always carry the same significance for them as they do for us.

I'm guessing that my next post will be from home tomorrow. Home. Where it'll be quiet. And the internet service will be free. And I won't have to hear that goddamn computer basketball game that's so popular these days in the PC-bahngs.

Now I gotta go home and pack. The truck arrives early in the morning.

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*X, if you're reading this, you know I don't wish you ill, but you also know I'm right. As long as you carry your sadness and anger around with you, you'll succeed only in remaining easily depressed, easily stressed, and constantly annoyed for no good reason. That stuff all comes from inside you. You're smart, talented, beautiful, and could be doing whatever you want. If you feel trapped or resigned to your "fate," well... it's a trap of your own making. You can unmake it. I hope you do. End bloviation.


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