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You know, I write so many of these entries, and I leave out some of the more interesting incidents, like interesting signs or shirts I come across. This was on the back of a student’s sweater yesterday. “FU? one.”

What is that mystery letter? I hope it isn’t a K.

Another one of my students wore this button to class. I succinctly summarized the extent of his English.

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We saw this poster at Sun Moon University a few weeks ago for this party. Take a closer look at the top left.

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Not only do we have hip pop, we have this stuff just categorized at “Black” music. Really, what were they — I’m not even gonna go there.

I’ve also come close to serious injury a few times.

In October, I was drying my hair while sitting on the bed. The hair dryer was old, and it started sputtering on and off. I figured it was a loose connection and tried to finish drying my hair. Well, it was a loose connection. Part of the electrical cord at the base of the dryer had worn away, exposing the wires underneath. Sparks shot out of the cord like a blow torch.

I immediately dropped the hair dryer and unplugged it. It left scorch marks on the floor. Eun Jeong made fun of the scream I made for a long time.

Last week, Eun Jeong was sick. She got up late at night to make some tea, and I followed her to the kitchen to tell her she just needed to ask me. She didn’t have to get up. She had the teapot on the stove and turned on the gas. She realized the lid was missing and put it on, only to have it on upside down. I said I’d take care of it. I reached and took the lid between my fingers and put it on right. I then noticed that the sleeve to my robe was on fire.

The entire sleeve.

After emitting a quick curse word, I flapped the sleeve. It luckily went out. It happened so fast that Eun Jeong didn’t even see it happen while her back was turned next to me.

So I guess those were the incidents I had forgotten to write about.

This week, I have been pondering Korean culture’s fascination with poop and farts. The Korean version of Teletubbies is PoongPoongi, who is a Barney-like orange character that lets out booming farts when excited or embarrassed. From what I gather, a farting PoongPoongi doll is available in stores. I saw it on TV.

We also watched a serious talk program where they talked to a doctor who was an expert on farts. This wasn’t some embarrassing silly topic. They were serious. I came away from it learning one interesting fact from the doctor: the average person farts 15-20 times a day.

So Eun Jeong and I have been counting our farts. So far, I only count around eleven a day. But with me, it’s not quantity, it’s quality.

Last night, I finally got Eun Jeong out of the house to go on a small date. It was a cold drizzle outside, but we were both in good spirits, sharing a liliputian umbrella as we walked a few blocks to the local HooLaLa. HooLaLa is one of my new favorite places. If anyone from my family visits me in Korea, I’m taking him here. It’s BBQ chicken and beer. It’s not just any BBQ chicken. It comes in a few flavors, sizzling on an iron platter covered in foil with onions and ddeokbokki, and it’s always good. I’ve tried three flavors so far, and my favorite is the hot smoked chicken. Good and spicy.

We had some chicken and beers and caught up with each other without the distractions of TV or computer. She told me she has to go to a wedding today.

“Why?”

“I’m supposed to catch the bouquet.”

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