Day 409

Thursday | April 11th, 2013


I walked to work today. Somehow all the “do” of yesterday blew me out enough that I got to bed at a sort of more normal time and thus woke early enough to enjoy a bit of walking.

Work was completely uneventful and totally sad because the day was sunny and beautiful but I was stuck with three chilly office hours. When I finally did get back outside and on my way home it was incredibly windy. The construction around the campus and the nearby hospital kicked up swirls of dust devils (hero image, top) reminding me of the mosquito fogger guy in the summers.


At evening I goofed around in my new room and the dogs curled up on the new couch. I can’t tell if they like it more or are just happy to be level with heater and not falling off of the stool (as Naughty often looks like he will do).

I went to Gyeongju’s open mike night for the first time. I had wanted to go last year to one of the many but either forgot, didn’t know it was on, or could get Meow to come out with me. (This is not to say that I needed Meow to go with me, rather that I thought, and still think, she would enjoy it.) There was poetry—good, bad, stolen (I guess that would make it performance); fiction; comedy; music. Like the moving around of boxes and memories the other day, something settled turned over. This is the second time in a year. Why? Why now? What is special about this time, this place, these moments? To have something laid to rest for ten years suddenly sit up, unannounced and command attention is … provokative, yet still easy to forget with alcohol.

I went to drink something more than beer with GL afterword and ran into DM and DS at the bar. Drinks were bought for me—although I’m not sure why. Things were talked about, don’t ask what. At some point GL left and we reaffirmed to meet in the morning at the intersection with the rest of our complement for Mountain Day hiking with the rest of the university. When GL left, there were more drinks and perhaps a round or two on top of that.

I left, wherewithal successfully destroyed. On autopilot I bought ice cream and bright orange Nacho chips at the intersection I’d promised to be a scant five hours later. At home, I sat on my new couch and ate all the ice cream and chips (piecing this much of the story together now from wrappers and witnesses). I posted a status on Facebook, “drunk and inspiredã…¡haven’t felt this way in years.” before going to sleep.

Fuck me.

The Daily Bullet


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