- I love Momo. Her vocab sentence for "poisonous": If Snow White had some sense then she would not have shacked up wi… twitter.com/i/web/status/1… 1 day ago
- “They really should make a second one.” - My husband, inexplicably, whilst watching “Strange Brew” 2 weeks ago
- From the chat with my online grade 4 class. Always an interesting class, although I am not sure I am always teachin… twitter.com/i/web/status/1… 1 month ago
- Just had a 5th grader describe a boy in her class as a “homework parasite” because he copies off her. I love her. 2 months ago
- https://t.co/GwuNkWla64 2 months ago
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Monthly Archives: July 2006
There is a long back-story to this one, but I’m going to leave it out of this entry. Because I have only a few minutes before I change out of my one uniform into the other and want to get this done.
~Side Note on My Uniforms~
Teukgong Moosool is a black uniform with a white belt. Tae Kwon Do is a white uniform with a black belt. Each night I feel like my own version of Spy vs. Spy.
~Side Note on this Side Note~
I think most people inevitably side with either the white spy or the black spy, and hope that one of them will be victorious more often than the other. Which was your spy? And now I have to do some internet research to find out if one actually DID win over the other more often. (I’m a nerd).
~End Side Notes~
My 4:00 debate class on Thursdays is mostly full of really smart kids. One of those kids is Sarah, who is also very well-behaved and a good kid. Well, today (for reasons now lost to antiquity) Woody, Amelia, and I told my class to tell Aaron-Teacher that he was a loser (that’s right, Aaron… if you are reading this. A LOSER.) Well, Sarah threw that right back in Woody’s face and called HIM a loser. HA HA HA! It was a highlight of my afternoon. They never learn the vocabulary they are suppose to learn, but right away Sarah picked up the correct usage of the slang term "loser" (i.e.: that Woody is a loser).
Along the same lines, one of our Korean teachers told a funny story. Luke (who finally came out for beers with us), was teaching English somewhere in Seoul to younger kids. On his birthday (Luke’s, not the kid’s), he jokingly asked the class, "Where’s my cake?" One of the little bastards actually answered, "Up your ass."
Who’s teaching them these things?!?
PS: My spy was the black spy. Of course.
Holy crap, am I in a bad mood. ~I~ don’t even want to be near me, I’m that freaking cranky. It is a good thing that I am at home alone, because if one person said the wrong thing to me (or even looked at me wrong right now), I’m sure I would either try to maim them or burst into tears. Or both. So it is a good thing that no one is around me to piss me off.
But at the same time… at the same time I could use a hug. A hug might make this feeling subside a little. Sigh. A moms-hug would be pretty good. But I could make due with any hug at this moment.
A hug would hopefully negate the feeling I have right now to mangle something small and helpless and fuzzy. Like twisting the head off a bunny. If there was a bunny here right now, I would do that. In a blind rage. And then I would cry and try to hug the bunny carcass because I would feel so bad about ripping off its wee head.
Why am I in such a black mood? Am I just tired? Did something happen to me today? Is the medication wearing off? Is this the true, evil nature of my personality rearing its ugly head?
Or is it just time for my fucking vacation to start already?
See, and here I thought I had nothing to write about. Actually, I don’t. But I’m waiting for my laundry to finish so I can hang it to dry. Damned sweaty TKD uniform. BE LESS SWEATY!!!
So, last Thursday one of my Kinders got sick. No, actually sick. As in, barfed on the playmat sick. As in, Jodi-Teacher can’t handle barf on the playmat (Official Reason #8 Not to Have Children).
Poor Esther. She was pretty spunky in the morning, but she was getting more and more quiet as the morning wore on. I asked her if she was okay… if she was sick or sad… but she said she was fine. Until singing time. And before any of you nasty fuckers can make a crack about my singing abilities – I wasn’t the one singing at the time of the barf-incident. So, you shut up. I know that I’m not any good… but I’m not ~that~ bad either (or, at least, my moms says I’m not that bad). We were actually playing Hot Potato when Esther just quietly sat herself down on the mat (and she wasn’t "out" yet) and then proceeded to yack. I proceeded to panic and called Lily AND Judy into the classroom, citing the "I don’t deal with barf" law that I had just, at that moment, invoked. They gathered up Esther and brought in the mops. I left for lunch.
Regardless to say: I didn’t eat rice at lunch that day. Do you need me to detail why?
When I got back from lunch (with about 10 minutes to spare) I looked into my classroom and there was Esther, laying on the freshly mopped mat. There was no one to really watch her, and she was still not well, so they threw her back in my room and told her to lay there. Well, that’s crap. Poor kid. So I laid down on the map beside her, just hanging out. And when the kids were released from the big gym at 1:30, they all came and laid down on the mat with us. Then we finally got our act together to do "Science". This is the kid’s favorite part of the week, and Esther was so sick she couldn’t take part. Judy gathered her up and took her out of the class, saying that her mommy was coming to get her. Well, that was cool, because Science that day happened to be wet and noisy ("The Priniciple of the Water Gun"), and this poor, queasy monkey really needed to go home. After Science, I packed the kids up to go home and herded them out the door. Went up to the front desk area.
And Esther was still there.
This kid yarked all over my room at 12:25. And it is now 2:25 and no one is there to pick her up. And she is sitting at the front area, crying. And so I ask (in more polite phrasing, I promise you moms), "Where the fucking hell is her damned useless mother?" And am told that Esther’s mom figures Esther will be fine on the bus home.
Yes, fine. This poor, wee, six-year-old girl, burning up with fever and sick to her stomach. Crying because it is hurting her so bad. And then the worst thing ever happen.
My "maternal whatevers" kicked in.
I couldn’t take it that this poor kid was sitting there crying, obviously wanting her mommy to come and take her home. So I picked her up, put her on my lap, and sang to her for the next 10 minutes, trying to soothe her.
And before any of you can take a crack at THAT… it worked. She stopped crying and was nearly asleep. And she was so hot! Poor girl felt like she was on fire.
And I would never admit to being so nice to a child (because, as you all know, I hate the little bastards), but I was caught doing it by my co-workers anyway so I might as well confess to it.
And I feel as though I haven’t completely given up my dark side, what I sang to her over and over as we waited for her bus was "My Girl" by Nirvana.
This doesn’t mean that I like kids now. It doesn’t make me a better person. But it does make me feel like I should go out and do something evil to try and wash away the glow I felt knowing that I had made that little monkey feel better. BLEH!
Good thing my washing machine just sang the "Your Laundry is Done" song or I might have further confessions to make. Stupid wine + sleeping pills. Making me chill out just a wee bit too much.
One last note: I let Clean and Shaven go free. I told the kids that the snails were unhappy… but the truth is I was getting grossed out watching them slime their way around the muck and rotting… rot that was in the container otherwise known as Clean and Shaven’s snail-condo. BLEH! That’s what I need to see first thing every morning. So they have been set free in the wild (and no, I wasn’t as heartless as to flush them down the toilet).
I’m doing my best to enter in this thing regularly again, but I don’t want to just post crap. But really, I don’t have much else going. The rain is really doing a number on my motivation.
I’m also really stinking busy right now. I get up at 7:00am, go running, get home to do laundry and clean up (and anything else I need to get done) before going to work. Most days I work from 10 until 7. Bust it home, get changed, go to Teukgong Moosool. Bust it home, get changed, go to Taekwondo. Bust home (sort of, by this time my ability to "bust it" anywhere is a little sore and slow), get changed, do laundry (sigh, I hate laundry), have a shower, and take my damned sleeping pills with a glass of wine and lament that I didn’t spend the whole damned evening in bed watching shitty Korean TV and eating chips and salsa instead of jumping around like an idiot kicking at nothing.
Or maybe I’m just cranky because my body hurts today. Maybe from spending an entire Teukgong class learning how to fall flat on my face, back and each side. Some days (read: today), I feel much too old for this shit.
Bah! See… feeling down and I blame the rain. I just have to remember that it is now less than a week until I’m on that plane to Cambodia. One more Monday and I’m free for a whole week…
You have a plant in a pot. Where is the best place to put the plant in a room? Why?
Answer, as provided by William in my 4:00 class:
In a flouer pot. Because plant also live in flouer pot.
I posted this as a comment on Orla’s Bebo site, but thought I needed to share it with everyone:
"Is it just me, or do you also find it amusing that our evening in Korea tonight starts at the Rocky Mountain (CAN) for beers, then to Panchos (MEX) for dinner, and end up in a new Irish pub?? Konbe! Cheers! Salud! Sláinte!"
Definitely one of the things I love about Korea!
Dear Miss. Jodi.
It is a continuous rainy spell.
The rain bores me.
John will go to international school from September.
I am glad to this news but I am worried.
Think and think, we have dicided to send
international school him.
So he will go to LCI till July session.
He is having pleasure with you and
He loves you and his friend.
He regrets to quit LCI. Me too.
I think thank you. John met good teacher.
Perhaps you will linger long in our memory.
– John’s mom
Ativan (Lorazepam) is an anti-anxiety agent (benzodiazepines,mild tranquilizer) used for the relief of anxiety, agitation and irritability, to relieve insomnia, to calm people with mania / schizophrenia and intravenously as a sedative and for nervous tension or to relieve anxiety prior to surgery. It has less of an effect on the liver than other benzodiazepines, making it better suited if you are taking birth control pills, anti-abuse drugs, propranolol, ulcer medications, or any other drug that affects the liver. Ativan (Lorazepam) may also be used to help in the prevention of severe alcohol withdraw symptoms (Delirium Tremens, or DTs), to treat amnesia, or in patients who are undergoing chemotherapy and have severe vomiting. It may be given to children to treat serial seizures by placing it under the tongue.
Xanax ( Alprazolam ) is an anti-anxiety agent benzodiazepine used primarily for short-term relief of mild to moderate anxiety and nervous tension. Alprazolam is also effective in the treatment of activity depression or panic attacks. It can also be useful in treating irritable bowel syndrome and anxiety due to a neurosis. Xanax ( Alprazolam ) may help the symptoms of PMS if extreme, and, if given with various narcotics, the pain from some cancers. Xanax ( Alprazolam ) is used to relieve anxiety, nervousness, and tension associated with anxiety disorders, agoraphobia, essential tremor, fibromyalgia ( low dosage ), and ringing ears.
I’m not sure if I love or hate the doctors in Korea, but I am becoming a little afraid of them.
Today I went to the doctor for two things. First, I have insomnia again. To a ridiculous degree. Again. For those who know me well – I’m a bad sleeper. Always have been. But there are periods in my life where it is severe. Like right now. And I can’t afford to be this exhausted with everything that I’m doing. So I went to the doctor to get help (read: drugs) for that. And secondly, as I have been bragging to everyone, I am going to Cambodia in about a week. Well, when I was in Thailand, I had that weird vertigo-thing happen and it was (according to the MD) because of my extremely low blood pressure. So I wanted to know if I could do something to prevent getting the spins when I go to Cambodia.
The insomnia – no problem. "Here’s some pills," he said… and then he suggested that I take them with a glass or two of my favorite red wine each night at bedtime. At this point, I love this doctor.
Then he checks and re-checks my blood pressure on my right arm. And then my left. And he’s making a funny face. He says, "It is very low." Yah, yah, yah. I KNOW! Even in Canada my doctor told me that – no. big. deal. Then he listened to my heart and made an even funnier face (obviously, NOT ha-ha funny). He then says, "I think you have an irregular heart beat. You need an electrocardiogram."
Why me? Why again?? Why can’t I just have a damned cold or whatever?? WHY IS IT THAT EVERY TIME I SEE THE DAMNED DOCTOR I’M DYING OF SOMETHING?!?
Let’s recap my three most interesting medical experiences in Korea:
Symptom: My back hurts.
Diagnosis: Herniated disks in the lower back.
Treatment: 8 weeks of daily physiotherapy (remember the Coffin of Sand?)
Symptom: My hip hurts.
Diagnosis: Fracture and bone growth possibly due to cancer.
Treatment: Well, not treatment per se, but I did have to have a MRI. And it wasn’t cancer, but still fractured, and there is no bloody treatment.
Symptom: I don’t want to pass out in Cambodia unless it is alcohol-induced.
Diagnosis: Your heart is broken.
Fortunately, they could do the EKG right in the office. And it’s confirmed: I have an irregular heart beat. Apparently my left aorta is hyper-hypo and it fires prematurely and too often. Jerk-off aorta! Not too big a deal though, apparently. Just my heart not working 100% properly. One of those things in my body I thought should be at 100% but apparently not. Apparently, I just need to know that the irregularity is there. Sigh. Can’t believe that I’m falling apart at such a (relatively) young age.
Also fortunately, the "treatment" for the low-blood-pressure-induced-vertigo is to drink plenty of fluids (read: beers) and eat too much salt (read: peanuts with my beers). HOORAY!!!
I hope that I won’t have to go to the doctor here again. I’m really scared that next time it will actually, really-real-for-real be serious (read: terminal) and not just a scare. Bleh!