Day 82

Saturday | May 19th, 2012


I woke up today feeling old, not just older, but like 93 years-old old. It hurt to move. My legs and especially my knees. My left arm was almost creaky and its elbow was ‘been swinging a bat all day’ sore-ish. I should have let myself sleep more yesterday. Staying awake didn’t afford me anything new or noteworthy, just a new kind of life-node: blurry time.

I hate blurry time. I can cope with everything else, including the Sahara-like expanse of vacation untime.

I can hear them (left), “Hey bitch. Take me out.” Freshly showered, watching TV, finally not feeling like a tired old sack of crap. (Middle) “Hey bitch.” Sometimes desperate, sometimes eager-beavers, and sometimes communicating telepathically as they are here. (Right) “Hey fuckface, I want to crap on something. It can be your floor or a very naughty section of grass.” They win every time. Almost. (Dogs really do talk.)

The Daily Bullet

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

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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

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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

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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

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