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!

Progress

Today I am pleased to announce that I am finally starting to really believe that I'm really back home: Bossed around by sister? Check. Thrift store clothes and hand-me-ups piling up faster than I can wear them? Check. Dad nitpicking my writing attempts? Check. Mom giving me the stinkeye for crumbs on the counter and naked children? Check! If I had a Magic Eight Ball it would totally be saying 'All signs point to yes'. We all know that a toy that exists solely in my imagination would never lie so it must be true.

Now that I have had a chance to catch my breath a little, I fear I might have left out some salient points in my previous post where I was comparing the relative merits of Korean Air and United Airlines. I know this because I have been laying awake at night thinking about it. It drives me crazy when I think I have left something out or used a badly constructed sentence or a less than optimal word. It's actually possibly slightly obsessive (see all those '-ly' words all in a row? Sure to elicit a comment- CHECK!) In fact, I know it is, because one time in about 1990 I used 'prescription' when I meant 'subscription', and I STILL THINK ABOUT IT.

Anyway, she typed, dragging her attention back to the matter at hand, now that I'm in a one computer/three addict house, the situation around the singularity can get a bit dicey and I might have been rushed off the computer at icepick point before my thoughts were fully unveiled. But after I've had a few nights to ruminate over the issue, I've come to the logical conclusion: A new reality show! You take any random KAL trans-pacific flight and a similar United flight (or any other airline if you're really feeling saucy) and give them some zany in-flight challenges to overcome while still fulfilling all the standard responsibilities. For the opener, the teams would have to design and then make a gown for an extravagant wedding and simultaneously deliver twin lambs. KAL would kick United ass, because I swear, those flight attendants keep springing fully formed out of the overhead compartments or something, each one more charming and accomplished than the last. They would have that mother sheep parked on a business class seat with their arms up inside before the beleaguered United crew could even adjust their trusses.

Sadly, the reality show idea is perhaps not an entirely practical one for security reasons. Most of my challenges involve sharp implements and/or fire, but wouldn't it make an outstanding series of commercials? I can picture it now: the smiling KAL crew is turning backflips down the aisle and building a go-kart in the galley while their rivals lumber around, banging into each other with stupid looks on their faces. If anyone from the KAL marketing department is reading this, my ad concepts are available at a low, low price and an advantageous exchange rate. Rest assured, there's plenty more where this one came from. Call me!

Book Report

Poor old Osan, I know I mostly write about the lousy things. But there are a few sweet bonuses here if you look hard. Really hard. One of them is the library- it annoys me that it doesn't open until 10 a.m., but it IS open every day, unlike many stateside public libraries. Our community is small and a lot of people just use the library for internet access. I go several times a week and I rarely see anyone else checking out books, but there are always a bunch of people on the computers. That's good for me, because I can often snap up brand new books I'd normally have to wait months to read. Some books I've recently read are Ted Kennedy's 'True Compass' and Patricia Cornwell's 'The Scarpetta Factor'.

I have been devouring mysteries since the second grade when I read every single Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew novel even though they scared me so much I had to have my mom walk me down the hall to go pee even during the day. I actually don't read much fiction anymore, and I don't even know why I read Patricia Cornwell at all. Her Scarpetta books suck and each one is more outlandish and ridiculous than the last. And yet, I keep picking them up, I guess hoping she'll come up with one that's mediocre like the first couple of ones she did. I find that's true of many of the detective series I've read, and I'm pretty sure I know why. Writing is hard. Even this stupid blog. This post, for instance, I've had in a draft for five days, and I'm going to publish it as soon as I'm done, even though it's not very good. So I can really relate to what those overburdened popular novelists are going through with their big fat advances. I did recently read an exception: 'U is for Undertow' by Sue Grafton. I've read every one of her Kinsey Millhone mysteries since she started with 'A is for Alibi'. The early ones were pretty good, but they started to deteriorate around 'H' and get pretty lame around 'N'. But 'U', the latest one is the best of the bunch, really outstanding. For a mass market mystery series, I mean. Yeah, yeah, yeah, but I'm a lowbrow reader, you should know that by now. Here's a partial list of the detective series I have read, so you can offer me suggestions for new authors, if you're so inclined. I didn't love all of these but I did at least finish most of them:

Sue Grafton (Kinsey Millhone)

Faye Kellerman (Peter Decker/Rina Lazarus)

Jonathan Kellerman (Alex Delaware)

J.A. Jance (J.P. Beaumont/Joanna Brady)

Nevada Barr (Anna Pigeon)

Patricia Cornwell (Kay Scarpetta)

Robert Parker

Dick Francis

Michael Connelly

Carol O'Connell (Mallory)

Ruth Rendell (Inspector Wexford)

Elizabeth George (Thomas Lynley)

Janet Evanovich (Stephanie Plum)

Dennis Lehane

Ridley Pearson

John Grisham

P.J. Parrish

Peri O'Shaugnessy

Kathi Reichs

Douglas Preston/Lincoln Child

Sara Paretsky (V.I. Warshawski)

Right now I am also reading Stephen King's latest giant novel, 'Under the Dome', also snatched from the new book shelf at the library. I passed up the latest Kingsolver for it, that's exactly how lowbrow I am. I would have taken them both; I do like a nice big stack of books but those two piled together are taller than my laundry mountain and that's a bit daunting even for me. Plus I think Kingsolver is overrated, though I did like 'Animal, Vegetable or Mineral'. I have read a lot of Stephen King and I can sort his books roughly into three categories: The Good (The Stand, It, The Talisman, Black House, The Green Mile, Firestarter, The Dead Zone, Bag of Bones, Christine, Duma Key, Misery, Pet Semetary, The Tommyknockers) The Bad (Cujo, Salem's Lot, Carrie, The Shining, From A Buick 8, Lisey's Story) and The Ugly (Needful Things, Insomnia, Gerald's Game, The Darktower/Gunslinger series, Desperation, Dreamcatcher, Rose Madder). For the most part, I think the 'Ugly' ones are the ones he wrote while in his coke phase and they are totally unreadable. The 'Bad' ones I just didn't like, or I thought they were too yucky. 'Under the Dome' is similar to 'The Stand', as they both focus groups of people who have been isolated in one way or another. I do like it, but I'm about a third of the way through it and it's getting pretty creepy in a 'Lord of the Flies' kind of way. Since I think Stephen King has a certain prescience and I live on a teeny tiny military base on a peninsula next to an evil empire, I am finding it increasingly alarming. I'll keep you posted, IF YOU CAN STAND IT.

On Poetry

Ever since I wrote the last post, I've been feeling a little guilty about my disdain for poetry. I realize I also insulted a large percentage of my friends and some wonderful bloggers that I don't even know, but funnily enough, that doesn't bother me a bit.

I was a little delirious, but I seem to recall expressing some full-on hatred for poetry, and that's probably not quite accurate. I would hate to be responsible for an entire genre jumping off a cliff, you know. I don't actually hate poetry. I just hate other people's poetry, just like everyone else does. There are a very few exceptions, of course. My favorite poem ever is 'Patterns' by Amy Lowell, and I can certainly appreciate a nice lowbrow limerick. Literary poetry is another story entirely; I'm far too obtuse. If you have something to say, just say it! Or don't, I don't care, but don't write some cryptic missive about it and expect me to enjoy puzzling over it or appreciate your use of some weird words that no one ever heard of, okay? Here, click on this. It's called 'Wonder' and it's a prize-winning poem. What the hell, right? Crazy. I wonder, all right. I wonder what the hell you're talking about. Only I don't care enough to figure it out. Why don't you just make it easy on all of us?

I like the idea of poetry, and I like the puzzle-like aspect of it, where you try to fit an idea into a certain format, like a sonnet: fourteen lines, ten syllables each and a certain rhyming scheme. But when I'm done, I certainly don't expect someone to READ it. Sheesh. I don't want to see your completed crossword puzzle, after all, no matter how big and complicated it is. I better shut up now; I don't want any angry poets to come beat me up.

Displacement

Let me just admit right up front here that I am only writing this post so that the poem won't be at the top. The photo of Lloyd on Air Force One during President Obama's recent visit to Osan is completely irrelevant to anything I'm typing right now, or anything that might or might not be residing in my head. I simply can't stand to have a terrible poem at the top of my blog. What if some fancy publisher is clicking through blogs, looking for someone to give a multi-million dollar advance to for a memoir? When I look at new blogs, I always leave immediately if there's any kind of poetry, because I hate poetry. Someone with the refined taste of a publishing house would no doubt have similar feelings.

If you are, in fact, such a reader, please be assured that there is much more than bad poetry in my repertoire. I invite you to peruse the posts listed on the upper right, or read 'My Life in Cats', which I especially like, but alas, is neglected up there on the right because it is neither particularly funny nor objectionable. Under no circumstances should you click on any of the 'Good Reads' or 'All the Latest' because all those blogs suck. Trust me, you wouldn't want to give your hard-earned cash to any of those clowns. Sure, they're funny, touching, wise, whatever. They can't hold a candle to Stories from Korea, and don't you forget it!

The rest of you might be pleased to hear that we're on the mend. Unless I just called you a clown. Sorry! Did I write that out loud? It's the sickness; I just can't control myself. Wankers. Dammit! I have to go; they're at the door with the nets again. They're always after the tortured, brilliant artists; it's so typical.

Warning

Just so you know, we've all been sick for about a million years. Fever, earaches, stomachaches, dizzy spells, and coughing. Even vomiting, and not the good kind. And here's the scary part: I have a strange compulsion to write a poem about it, so you might want to steer clear of Stories from Korea for a few days. I don't want you to get sick, after all.

Poll: Come and Vote!

Sometimes I have a hard time deciding what to write about on here, and I'm interested in what everyone likes to read about. So please check out the poll on the upper right and check all the boxes that apply. The poll will be up for the next week, and please feel free to put additional thoughts in the comments (anonymously, if you feel it's necessary). Thanks!

Milestone

Know what's weird? Blogging about blogging is weird. There are actually blogs about blogging. Hell, for all I know there are blogs about blogging about blogging. Personally, I think blog posts about blogging are usually boooooring: blog or do not blog; take the goodie bags or don't; have ads or don't have ads; blah, blah, blah- it's all the same to me. Or maybe it's mildly interesting sometimes, but definitely not worth all the angst and drama.

But today, I had a blogging milestone, so I had to blog about it: someone recognized me from my blog! I felt like Dooce! As an aside, I am not a huge Dooce fan. Going to Dooce is kind of like going to Macy's instead of the thrift store, or to WalMart instead of that cute little handcrafted toy store down the street. You know how I love bargains and things that are a little off the beaten path, so I go to Cecily for my crazy, even though Heather cornered the market on PPD long ago. But she is totally getting a bad rap in the press these days for no reason that I can discern. Although I see from her post today that she is going on Dr. Phil, so maybe she DOES deserve it. Anyway, that's neither here nor there.

What's important here is my Q rating. I'm not too savvy about this popularity thing; I thought it was a Q factor, which turned out to be WAY more complicated. Phew, good thing I'm a out of work geologist mom domestic engineer hopped up lushblog writer, instead of a physicist!

I know you're dying to hear how it happened, so here it is: I was at church, chatting with my friend MeLissa and killing time when a new family came in. They were a little late, so they were the only game in town, and the church ladies pounced on them. After the parents got all greeted up and delivered their kids to vacation bible school, they came back by me with the deer in the headlights looks wiped off their faces, and the mom said, 'Do you have a blog?' She recognized me from here before she even got to Osan! Probably from this post, because that's my most common look. And,she actually likes it!

Of course, I acted all cool, like that happens to me all the time, but I thought I had died and gone to heaven, right there in the foyer of the Mission Baptist Church. Thanks, J!

Now, let's get down to the nitty gritty; the really important part of this post: which is my best side? I really need to know; I have an image to uphold, you know.

Riveting

You might have noticed that my stories from Korea have been a little different lately. I have been trying to write less about Weston as he gets older and might have objections to living his life as blog fodder. For a while, I was worried that if I stopped ridiculing him I wouldn't have anything to write about. I could certainly mock Lloyd a lot more, but apparently not everyone takes it in quite the same good-natured way I intend it.

Lucky for me, not so much for you, I have a lot of very random, miscellaneous and useless thoughts, and not all of them are related to parenting, thrift stores or communism, either. Sandwiches, for instance. I have a lot of thoughts about sandwiches.

I love sandwiches. I could eat sandwiches for every meal. If they're the right kind of sandwiches, that is. Cheeseburgers should have a sesame seed bun and a light char, and are excellent for breakfast. Salami sandwiches should be on french or italian bread, chewy crust and soft inside, with just a smidge of butter. Well, okay, a nice thick smear of butter, the more the better! And better give me two while you're at it. A good french dip is one of my very favorites. It should be on a french-type roll, toasted on the stove top in butter. The meat should be thin enough so that you can easily bite through it and not tear out a whole big piece of meat with one bite. And it should definitely have french fries with it; the kind with the peel on, good sized, nice and crispy.

Tomorrow, my thoughts on pancakes! No, wait, I'm totally kidding. Please, come back! NO, don't goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

Parenting Contest at Helen's!

Everyone is invited! Helen has a clever Parenting Word of the Day contest up at 'Tips From the Trenches'. Each day for a week, she will have a new parenting word up and she is looking for the most interesting story, post, poem, joke or other submission. Heck, she might even accept art work; she's not picky. The first word, posted yesterday, is 'antagonize'. So get your creative juices flowing and win a fabulous prize!

Branching Out

Weston has always been a kid who has decided when he was ready for something and then just did it: eating real food, sleeping in his own bed, giving up the boob, giving up his binky and potty training (not necessarily in that order).

We fretted and worried and tried various techniques to accomplish these things, all to no avail. When he was ready, he just..... did. For the most part, we have given up trying to cajole him into anything and let him do what suits him.

This has proved to be a super effective method for us, but best of all it requires absolutely no effort. It's so easy that I'm thinking of writing a parenting advice book, but I can't get past the opening sentence: Just let your kids do whatever they want whenever they want and reap the effortless rewards! I really need some filler- it seems like all the most successful parenting books are really thick and heavy. It's going to be called 'Parenting Advice from Korea'. You would totally buy it, right?

Anyway, he has decided to begin taking care of all his personal grooming needs. In general, I'm all for him doing things for himself because it's much less work for me, but I'm getting a little scared. He has always hated having his hair washed and he loathes any activity that carries the slightest risk of a teeny-tiny drop of water splashing his face. Last night, he yelled to us from the tub to come look, he had washed his own hair. And indeed he had. He had wet the top of his head somehow and slopped a good-sized glop of baby wash on there. Unfortunately he had neglected to rinse it off, and he resisted our delicate efforts to convince him that we needed to 'help' him finish the job. We didn't want to discourage him from from washing his hair in the future so we just let him go to bed with goo on his head. I MEANT to go in after he was asleep and wash it off with a wet cloth, but I had a glass or two of wine, and you know how that goes.

The next day, he came out of the bathroom reeking of a chemical smell. The scent was familiar and not completely unpleasant, but I couldn't quite place it. I was getting pretty alarmed trying to figure out what he'd gotten into until he waved his hands in my face and I realized he had covered his fingernails, fingers, toenails, toes and the bathroom floor with light blue nail polish. It looks pretty good but he's going to have to get a little neater and rinse his head if he wants to make the book cover.

Short Stories from Korea

I may have mentioned from time to time how crazy it is around here. Lest you think I alone am a touch unstable, let me just reassure you that all my friends are crazy too. Not so long ago, a bunch of us moms were sitting in the BX on a Saturday when all the dads were working AGAIN, having lunch and watching the kids whale on each other in the play area.

I'm not exactly sure how we started talking about clever ways to kill someone, but I'm pretty certain it was right after I related my story about how I had just broken the lid to the my stone rice cooker by slamming it down after Lloyd ate both ends of the bread I had just made AND mashed it down when he was cutting it, damn him! Oh wait- I was supposed to be telling you how everyone else is crazy, but that only makes me sounds nuts. Hmmm. You'll just have to trust me, the rest of them are at least as wacko as me. Really, it's true. I promise!

So, anyway, we had a loud and inappropriate conversation about clever murder weapons, which reminded me of some short stories I had read. I was thinking there was a Sherlock Holmes story about an icicle murder, so I did a Google search for it. This is what I found. Can you believe these people sit around looking for ways to kill someone? Freaks.

The other one I thought of was Lamb to the Slaughter by Roald Dahl, who is quite famous for his (often somewhat deranged) children's stories. It's an elegant little tale about a woman who kills her husband with his own supper and you can read it here.

Then, because I have too much time on my hands, and I'm just a little bit close to the edge, I started thinking about some other memorable short stories: 'A Rose for Emily', by William Faulkner, can be read here, and 'The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas' by Ursula K. LeGuin can be read here. 'The Picnic at Hanging Rock' is a novel and a film, but it's stuck with me, too, and you can read about it here. Thanks, AP English! Thanks, too, for the day I dressed up as the Canterbury Cathedral for Chaucer day. That box was really comfy.

As I post this, I notice these stories that have remained with me for decades have something in common- they are just a little bit twisted. Now that I think about it, maybe I should post some of my own twisted fiction. I could post the (totally imaginary, made-up, not the least bit autobiographical) fictional story about how Lloyd made me so mad when he ate the best part of the bread and mashed it down that I cleverly... Oh, never mind. Maybe it's not such a great idea.

Irreconcilable Differences

For a while now, the two halves of Stories From Korea have been growing apart. I started writing it to keep my family and friends up on what is going on with us here in Korea, but I quickly found it was more satisfying as a medium to shoot my mouth off about whatever foolishness I happened to be thinking of. Sadly, the posts with video and pictures of the boys and the general family updates don't really get along with the entries about rabid badgers, psychotic chickens or boogers anymore. They've been trying to work it out but unfortunately there's no local English speaking blog therapists experienced in this kind of tricky situation.

So, enough is enough. The family update posts have moved out. Their new address is Chaos Family Rules. You can follow the link, or keep up with CFR from the SFK sidebar. The first post, 'Orange you glad I wear pants?' is up now. This is probably a surprise to most, but I know some of you have seen this coming. My mother, in particular, thinks SFK is a real loudmouth and I'm pretty sure she'll be relieved to not have to look at it any more.

Don't worry about the children; CFR and SFK will share custody. CFR gets the cute pictures, updates and the funny conversations, while SFK gets all the hard work, vexations and agony. Cross-posting may occur as we all adjust to our new situation. I know it all sounds tragic, but really, it's all for the best.

Update on Guest Post Contest

I am loving all the fabulous guest posts! There will be a new one every morning (Osan Standard Time) through Thursday. New entries are still being accepted. After the last one is posted, I will put up a poll so you can vote for your favorite.

The breather has been really great for me; I have been churning out all kinds of new stuff and I'll be posting it once the contest ends. Some of it is a little different than what you're used to seeing, but please don't keel over in excitement. I need all the readers I can get.