A few problems

Socks
It would seem that my socks have made some kind of agreement whereby they all decided to allow a rapid deterioration of the heel-region, thus making them unwearable. I no longer have a healthy supply of sport-socks (thick, white, ribbed and can be stretched to my knees with a little love and pulling) that are acceptible to wear in public. I know many of you may think that a hole in the heel is not a big deal, but I've heard that it's a matter of indecency here, arrestible even. Also, I never really know if I'll be required to take off my shoes in the day, so I'd rather not chance wearing one of the holy ones.

A simple solution would be to just purchase new socks, but, I've never done that before and I'll be damned if I start now.

I also can't throw them out. I have a thing against putting fabric in the garbage. I feel like it shouldn't be allowed. I've spent my whole life avoiding contact between potentially staining agents and fabric, espeicially of the white variety. Rather, I've utilized an effective knotting system that lets me clearly see which socks are intact and which are in shambles, avoiding the garbage problem entirely. The proportion of good socks to not, in my drawer, is heavily skewed and the trend suggest things will get worse before they get better.

On the up-side, my students have been giving me new socks in droves. It's a seems to be a go-to present here for teachers. I've probably gotten 6 or 7 pairs of patterned formal socks. I wouldn't consider this to be an answer to my impending sport-socklessness, but it is offsetting some of my angsiety.

Helpful suggestions would be appreciated.



Poked in the Eye
Weeks ago, I suffered a condition perpetrated by my otherwise perfect genetic make-up, which caused a rather bulbous protuberance to form below my eye. It was weird looking, and unwisely aggravated by my amateur attempts at dermatology. I got it dealt with professionally and it was almost healed within the week.

Last week, however, I was playing soccer as I sometimes do, and I went up for a rather showy header, but due to some sporadic wind or the gleam of floodlight reflecting off the keeper the ball connected squarely with my eye and not my forehead. Needless to say, this angered my then dormant friend, causing it to swell once more. I awoke the next morning to see that he had angrily returned, but this time it was a wonderful yellowy-brown and reddish-purple colour.
I iced it and tried other things to keep down the swelling, and it seemed to be mildly effective.

One night, I had just finished Hapkido and I was hungry. I went down to the little kimbap house downstairs for food as I often do and was welcomed warmly by my friend Mr. Ha. He and I often have awkward exchanges in broken attempts at each other's languages. Although we are probably having two completely different conversations, I enjoy it and his establishment.

As I was getting some water, Mr. Ha noticed my injury and waved me over to inspect it more closely. I was mid-stride when, unexpectedly, Mr. Ha drove his index finger into my clearly bruised and otherwise untouchable bump. I recoiled in pain, and expressed my disapproval with a rather scathing lowered brow and curled lip. I don't know why he did it, nor do I know if he intended to hurt me. I do know that it was unlike him. He had never poked at my eye before.

I finished my meal in quiet rage.

I, again, have an irate welt beneath my eye and I am trying, fruitlessly, to make it go away.

Helpful suggestions would be appreciated.



I'm not sure I've officially declared my intentions to stay for an extra 2 months. The job is still fine, and the kids are still fun so I thought it would be the easiest way to offset the inevitable feelings of loss likely to occur when I leave. It has absolutely nothing to do with the holiday that is sandwiched between my final months.
As it stands now, I'll be home at the end of February, as that's the end of the Kindergarten session.

Keep the streamers, but throw away the cake-- it won't keep as long.