The good news is that I'm not dead.

All other news is, well, mere details, I tell you. But at the risk of incurring the wrath of several faithful readers of my blog should I not touch on said details, read on.

Saturday Night:
Liz and I meet Morven and Tania--a girl freshly returned to Gangneung following a two month visit to Canada--downtown for dinner. We eat samgyeopsal, a bacon-style barbequed pork dipped in bean powder and eaten with the ubiquitous lettuce leaf. I enjoy a variation eaten with a large, thinly sliced raddish round.

From there we go to the jazz place where Taylor and his Korean girlfriend join us.

From there we go to Bumpin where I meet Michael, Carlos, Bryce, and Ivan (Aussie, Brit, Yank, Aussie).

From there we go to Wherehouse where there is a dance party. I agree to go because I love dancing so much. Uh-huh. Quickly tiring of bad music and an even worse sound system (I've been in cars with more powerful systems), we go back to Bumpin.

From there, most of the aforementioned people go to noraebang (karaoke). But they don't just go, they go on a four-wheeler. An all-terrain-vehicle. All of them. On the streets of downtown Gangneung. Now, I like having a good time as much as the next person, and despite being fairly socially conservative, I can hold my own when I go out. However, I don't have 'I am stupid' written on my forehead, and at this particular juncture, getting on the four-wheeler seems like something only people with 'I am stupid' written on their foreheads do. Ivan agrees with me, and we follow on foot as I want to make sure Liz doesn't die on my watch. When I confirm that Liz is safely singing with the others, I leave her to her own devices and catch a taxi home.

Sunday Night:
Ivan calls and we go out for gamjatang with another teacher, an older guy who calls himself R. Bob, and his Korean wife (I know I keep saying Korean this person and Korean that person as if their names aren't worth mentioning, but the fact is that I just can't remember Korean words. The only reason I can write the names of the food I've eaten is that I describe what I've eaten to Julian, and she writes it out for me). Gamjatang is a spicy stew with potatoes and pork back--literally chunks of the spine eaten like ribs. Mrs. R. Bob orders mild, for me, I think, though she claims to not care for spicy food herself (food is usually eaten from a communal pot). By the bottom of my second bowl, my face is beet red, my eyes are watering, and I'm gasping involuntarily. And R. Bob is telling his wife 'You could have at least got medium, honey...'

Monday:
I don't remember Monday, so it must have been okay.

Tuesday, Valentine's Day:
I have to deal with above average crying. Several of the incidents involve chocolate, several others involve extra naughty children being sent to the hallway to be dealt with by Julian. Julian lets us read the new guy's resume, and we discover that he's from Seattle--I like him already.

Today:
Katie 'falls' into Kevin's knee and bloodies her nose, Kevin's pants, her hands, my hands, my coat and my jeans. Terry gets his foot stuck through one of the chair slats nearly necessitating the jaws of life. I finally get paid. Yes, this is all worth it.

This weekend I will be venturing to Seoul for a party to meet all the people who went through my recruiting agency. Cross your fingers that there aren't any ATVs.