News Roundup

The winner of the mystery won is Janelle. I will be sending her fabulous prize out early next week. Congratulations, my friend! Don't spend it all in one place.

In blog news, I am looking for a new name for 'Stories from Korea', since my stories are no longer from Korea. If you have any ideas, let me know! As soon as I get a new name, I am going to have to figure out a way to get a new header. My clever brother-in-law made my existing one, which I love, but he is very fancy and important and most likely has better things to do than draw cartoons for me. Hard to believe, I know. Then, when that's done, I'm going to set up an email subscription form like Helen did. If you haven't signed up for notifications from 'Tips from the Trenches', you totally should right now, because it's awesome.

In some random Seattle-ish news, there are like a bazillion bald eagles flying around here all the time, a rousing Endangered Species Act success. Super cool. Also, I am very pleasantly surprised with the driving situation around here. There is a noticeable improvement in the traffic flow, even during the busiest times. Lloyd thinks it's because no one has a job anymore but WHATEVER; it gets me to the thrift store way faster than ever before!

And speaking of the thrift store, here's the weird news of the day: thrifting seems to have partially lost its luster. Maybe it's because all those people without jobs are can't afford to drive their cars to the donation center? That must be it. GET WITH THE PROGRAM, PEOPLE! GET BACK ON THE ROAD AND DROP OFF ALL YOUR OLD CRAP RIGHT NOW! There, that should do it.

And finally, here is the last boil report ever: the gaping hole has turned into a handsome little scab. Now it looks exactly like a half healed-up wound from a glancing blow from a paring knife. On my hipbone. Not that I would know.

Have a happy weekend! I'm off to the thrift store to get Janelle her treats from America. Okay, FINE. Maybe I'll go to Target, too.

The Woman with a Dead Cat in her Purse

Isn't that the GREATEST title ever? It's the name of a story I have in my head. About a woman with a dead cat in her purse, duh. Doesn't it give you that delicious shiver of anticipation and make you wonder a million things? Like, does she know the cat is in her purse? Is it fresh, or has it been there for a while? And what kind of a whackjob would think up a story like that? Well, I had a dream. About a woman with a dead cat in her purse, duh. I think it was me, but I'm not sure. I rarely remember dreams, so when I woke up and recalled this one in vivid detail, I knew that the story was speaking to me.

I doubt I'll actually WRITE the story, of course, because that's a lot of work. The fun of a story for me is finding out what happens. And once I know, the motivation for the hard labor associated with continuing to write wanes significantly. But it's a good story. I don't mind telling you the point of it; I'm not THAT lazy. Plus it's easy because the details are still pretty fuzzy. Sort of like a dead cat, hyuk, hyuk. So here it is: We all have a dead cat in our purses, all the time. What's important is not how much it smells, or how it got there, but what you do with it.

And, while you're pondering that, don't forget to enter to win some mystery won and a surprise from America! Enter by commenting here. I'll choose a winner by the end of the week. For those of you who are concerned that I don't have enough souvenirs from South Korea, not to worry! I have a whole kimchi pot full of won for the boys in our stored household goods, so they won't be subjected to a miserable, won-free existence in their later years. Enter away; you know you're salivating just thinking about the yellow slip!

Okay, FINE

Some of my most ardent fans have been asking, nay BEGGING, for me to do a new post. Okay, FINE. It was my sister and I'm pretty sure she mostly wants me to tell you about her new blog, The Way of the Woo. If you know my sister, you know she is VERY clever and talented, and perhaps, just the teensiest bit bossy. If you don't know her, you can check out her art here. There, Jennifer, are you happy NOW?

And, moving on, things around here are, well, moving on. The packers come tomorrow to gather all of our household goods. They pack like lightning and you have to move fast to keep them from packing your kitchen garbage, keys and passports. It's especially challenging here, because they don't understand when you say, 'No! Don't take the goldfish!' or, 'Ack! That's my dirty laundry, and put that pot roast down!' I wanted to take some pictures of the house and all our piled up junk for your viewing pleasure, but of course I can't find the camera.

We had our housing pre-inspection yesterday. If you haven't lived in military housing, this is where they come and look around and point out all the things you have to clean up before you can move: The scribbles on the wall, the dried slime on the rug, and the shaggy carpet of dust on the ceiling fan blades. Anyway, she came in and looked around and immediately assumed that we had already shipped our good furniture out and were using ratty loaner junk. Sadly, however, this is not the case. The ratty junk is, in fact, our actual belongings, and once I informed her of this, she slunk out quickly, probably good and embarrassed. So that worked out well. Sorry, Korean housing lady, better luck next time!

Let's see, what else? We will be computer and phone free after today so you might not hear from me for a while. We will also be television, book and toy free, so that's probably going to be super fun. Someone did loan us a car starting tomorrow so we can just go cruising Osan to entertain ourselves. If I don't shrivel up and die from having no computer, see you in America!

Festive

I feel clever, oh so clever.....

It's Tuesday, so naturally I was at the Thrift Store bright and early this morning. I scored some nice goodies: a Michael Kors skirt for $3, a few books, some crafting stuff for Weston, and a pair of cap guns. As I was about to check out, a particularly entertaining customer was talking to the staff, so I pretended I was looking in the glass case by the register so I could keep eavesdropping. You would not believe the characters that hang out at the Thrift Store here. Oh. Well, maybe you would. Never mind. Anyway, as I casually looked over the jewelry, watches and little trinkets, I saw it. The most beautiful three-strand shell pink necklace the world has ever known. I waited ever so patiently for the clerk to come get it out of the case for me, and then quickly checked the price tag. How much would it be? Five bucks? Ten?! Would it fit in my holiday budget?? My quivering fingers turned over the tag. $1.50, my friends; can you believe it? I snapped it up so fast the crazy Thrift Store people thought I needed medication.

I tried it on as soon as I got it home. Perfection in pink, it was. But something was missing. Just the littlest thing. Something, something, what was it? And then my eye fell on some of my Christmas ornaments. The little flesh-toned orbs I bought last year for the nursing-themed Christmas tree that the Breastfeeding Support Group entered in the decorating contest at the Officer's Club. They are all different skin colors: bronze, tan, chocolate, peach and pink. The perfect matching shade of pink. Could it be? It's so crazy it just might work, I thought. Trembling, I affixed the ornament to the center of the bottom strand of the necklace. It was just right. I felt BRILLIANT. If you have ever met me, you know that I have no talent whatsoever and that this stunning success is something on the order of Scooby Doo proving Fermat's Last Theorem.

Of course, not everyone can pull off a Christmas ornament around her neck, but I'm just the girl to do it. And, there's not a lot of places you can wear something so fabulous, but I'm working up a list: The BX, the Commissary, the library, the playground.....

Painting in and out of Korea

Today was an exciting day at my house. The walls have needed touching up since, oh, thirty seconds after we moved in.

You probably won't be surprised to hear that I'm not too picky about marks on the walls, or well, anything. Our beds are never made, our laundry is never folded, and yesterday Weston complained that the floor was too dirty to eat off of. I had to bring him a towel to eat on.

But I finally reached my limit on the walls. I could stand the chocolate fingerprints, the stickers, the scrapes, and the crayon/pencil/ballpoint pen/marker/fork tine art in every room. Last week, Shane discovered a new technique for wall art that utilized a grape popsicle, and that put me over the edge.

I know what you're thinking: 'You could just try cleaning the walls once in a while, you sloppy pig!' But our government issued walls are surfaced with a strange, soft and porous paint that soaks up messes and is impossible to clean. It's like trying to keep white cashmere clean. Not that I would know, because I definitely can't be trusted with white cashmere. Or cashmere of any color. Or white fabric of any kind. Moving on now.

Anyway, I nagged Lloyd until he brought home a gallon of the strange Korean paint, supplied by the base housing office. You can see it in the picture. It has a funny smell, and it's probably a good thing I can't read the can, because for all I know it says: 'Not for use by people. Only for use by robots or dogs not intended for consumption. Will poison meat. Do not breathe, touch or look at paint or you will shrivel up and die'.

I 'touched up' the walls, which as you can see from the pictures, involved completely covering the bottom half of almost every wall in the house. I can only hope that when the paint dries, it does in fact match the original color.

And, on the 'out of Korea' front, you may be saddened to hear that Lloyd has boxed up the Mini-me ship painting and sent it to his mother for her birthday without ever unwrapping it.