Day 487

Friday | June 28th, 2013

X

I didn’t get a lot of sleep because of Thursday’s mess, so I slept a little later on Friday than I wanted to (this sounds familiar …). I had to shave and when I got up Meow was in the bathroom angrily killing flies. She said she’d killed flies in the morning and now the bathroom was filled with flies again. I took the fly swatter and kicked her out because shaving takes a lot of time.

She was right though, there were an insane amount of flies in the bathroom. I spent about twenty minutes killing them all before the room felt clean enough to shower. Showering and shaving for a big Dinner in Daegu took a long time and when I was done, there were more flies in the bathroom. Clearly they were coming from somewhere else, a hole or something. I killed this batch too and cleaned up the bathroom a second time.

img_9680

I was working on some TOEIC thing, carving up audio files, when Meow screamed from the garden. She found a dead butterfly and somehow that was terrifying. It was so perfectly dead and undisturbed that this created a sudden surge of butterfly related photography (hero image, top). I staged it in many ways, but in the end it was just a dead butterfly and not very interesting beyond the first or second shot. Then I saw teddy … and the rest became story (above and here too).

We took a bus with PP, BM, and GL and Am. BM who we hadn’t expected to be seeing, too. On the bus we got a lot of shushing and dirty looks and an old grandmother lectured Meow on her noisy-ass cracker collection … all this on a 18.30 bus ride to Daegu. It’s one thing to be making tons of noise cackling on the bus at night, but at dinner time? Puh-leez, stfu.

img_9691

At dinner, we talked about hitting a hooka bar before heading back to Gyeongju, but we stayed and talked so long at the La Luce there wasn’t time for this. Instead, we made a loop through the park. The park where I watched the 2002 World Cup eleven years ago; the park where House got crazy drunk, climbed to the top of a tree, and shouted that he was “a monkey” and then proceded to swing from the branches until a baby one broke and he fell on his ass on the sidewalk; the park where I had AK dead to rights with a roman candle and he froze knowing he was about to be shot and nothing happened in that pause, then he dodged and the roman candle blew up in my hand. The memories are rife in this park.

img_9695img_9697img_9699

But there was barely enough time to enjoy this place and make new memories (unless you count everyone overeating and having to run off and find the bathroom). We passed the New Year’s bell on the way to our fast taxis back to the bus terminal where we found out the last two buses were sold out.

There were two hungry taxi drivers lurking by the ticket window all too happy to tell us the bus was sold out, and, oh, by the way, ‘Where are you headed? Gyeongju! Oh, I could take you there for a hundred dollars.’ and like that for five minutes or so with me interjecting that we could go across the street and probably just take the train back and these guys insisting there was no train, there’d be NO WAY we could get a ticket at this hour, etc.

Enter smartphone. Pull up the Korail app. Check train times. Confirm there are three (THREE!) more trains to Gyeongju. Give cabbies evil eye.

There was a sticky little situation of there may or may not being a bus at Shingyeongju Station and that, if there wasn’t, the price of the high-speed rail tickets and a cab ride from the station into the city would be more in total than what the hounds were trying to charge us at the bus station. Going this way though, we could all still hang out together and keep our good time.

We hung out on the platform for about 20 minutes waiting for our not-sold-out KTX to whisk us back to Gyeongju (above, all). It seems absurd that we could stay out too late, not get a bus ticket, then hop on the rails across the street and be (close to) home in less than twenty minutes. But then, there we were at Shingyeongju Station seventeen minutes after leaving Dongdaegu Station … and there was no bus. Or so every stupid dude out to make a buck told us.

img_9705

This is the exact implementation of Korea counter logic (a.k.a. there’s no possible way that could be true because because and I need soju money). There was to a train and there was to a bus. Shingyeongju was full of people sitting around outside, sure some were waiting for a friend to give them a ride, but the students (always watch the students) were just … waiting. And so, at 00.30, after the last KTX had dumped it’s passengers, the last bus to town came. As I believed it would because I was sure I’d taken it once before when returning from somewhere still half inebriated from the previous night and somehow I got home (there’s no walking from Shingyeongju Station to home—sure it could be done, but most of that is freeway walking).

And, if for some reason there’d been no bus, no train, no cab to get to Gyeongju? It would have been fine except for the Naughty / Twitchy factor. The poor dogs we’d left home and then couldn’t let out for an extra three hours or so.

The Daily Bullet

img_9666

Daily Report

I didn’t sleep last night. I struggled to write or create a script that would grab an .mp3 from a folder, open it, insert markers in pre-determined places, split the audio file into eleven segments based on those

View all

Gyeongju

Out beyond the fake lake (Bomun) for Christmas Day lunch at a place called the Healing Kitchen. It’s all farms and hilltops here. And roads to more farms and hilltops. Except for the noise from the cars, I

View all

The Fourth Wall

I’m here and alive. Ten days behind the reality of my written life, yet here and alive. TOEIC is the predominant motif of life from the end of the semester until … today. This is the end, after

View all

This Old Hanok

When we had the bathroom done, we wanted to design our own window for the part of the wall which straddles the storage space along the side of the house. This way we could have clean airflow through

View all