The Catcher In The Rice

HELP FIND VERONICA RUIZ!!!

2007-12-08T19:17:00.000-08:00

One of my best friends, VERONICA RUIZ, has been missing since Monday, December 3, 2007.

She went for a hike on Mt. Tamalpias around 12 noon and never returned.

Please take a look at this flyer:

http://www.audcast.com/findveronicaruiz/

If you can help out in the search effort, then please call her sister, MariCris, at (650) 222-9578.

Please help find her... please help spread the word... please pray for her...

We all miss her so much...

I love you, Vee!

Here is another picture of her - she's carrying the baby:

Esquire...

2007-11-17T10:44:00.000-08:00

note: a few months back, i wrote a blog similar to what i'm going to write now.

on november 16, 2007, at approximately 6:00pm, my brother became a real life lawyer!!!

congratulations, rat-eyes!!!

da-da-daaaaaaaaaaaamn!
we have a freakin' lawyer in the family!
if i ever get arrested, i know who my one phone call is going to!

and so, at approximately 6:00pm, 1/4 of my parents' dream came true.

2/4 of the dream are getting to the finish line.

and the last 1/4, well...

so, this is now my siblings and i current standing:

Eugene Chang, Esq.

Jamie Chang, PhD (date pending)

Jane Chang, Ms. (hey!)

Cheddie Chang, Esq. (date pending)

it goes without saying that i'm very proud of my brother and sisters.

and, it also goes without saying that i shamelessly show them off on this blog.

in any case, no matter how much i talk/write about my siblings, i can never do so more than my parents.

and here they are:

the proud parents of 4.

halloween...

2007-11-11T23:12:00.000-08:00

as usual, my life has been pretty uneventful.

for me, nothing exsists beyond a 2 block radius from my house, so it figures i don't have much to write about... which is the reason why i haven't been updating this blog more regularly.

the thing that takes up most of my time is, of course, work.

i know halloween has passed, but my kiddies and i have worked so hard on decorating our classroom that i wanted to show it off:

do you see that small, teal wall?

that's my playhouse... well, the kids' playhouse (the whole classroom is my playhouse, shoot).

eugene built and painted it for me... but, i painted the grass and flowers, which you can't really see, but makes all the difference.

HA!

2007-10-10T22:10:00.000-07:00

Dang, dude... has anyone been reading my brother's and sisters' blog lately?

(Wait, does that sentence make sense? Is it supposed to be "brother and sisters' blogs" or "brother and sisters' blog"? Well, whateva.)

What a bunch of downers.

Take some zoloft people.

I, on the other hand, being the joyful person that I am, have nothing but happiness and laughter to share with you.

Today, for example, one of my students said (with a hella stuffy sounding nose): "Miss Chang???(they always call my name like they're asking a question) I want to give you a hug."

And he proceeded to walk over to me, with arms wide open.

He kinda bumped into me, and that was his hug! HA!

Another kid said, "Miss Chang??? I like your shoes."

Followed by another voice saying, "Miss Chang??? I like your clothes."

Not only that, but I must have received like 10 apples!

I didn't know kids actually gave teachers apples.

These kids kill me.

They are cute as hell... they really are.

My job is so fun.

I think everyone should become a teacher.

Not only will it be the easiest money you've ever made, but it'll keep the dentist away.

My classroom...

the night of the living dead.........................

2007-08-06T09:02:00.000-07:00

The-most-scariest-thing-happened-to-me-last-night.
Oh my God, it was so scary.
Last night, my slumber was broken by a freakin rat jumping on my head!!!!!!
Oh my gah, oh my gah, oh my gaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!
Well, at least I thought it was a rat... I couldn't tell in the darkness.
As I was sleeping, I felt this kinda small, kinda heavy, kinda warm thing fall right above my eyebrows... my forehead, if you will.
As you can imagine - and you must imagine - my eyes shot open with pupils dilated, nostrils flared, ears perked, body stiffened, and breathing stopped.
I must have been a horrendous sight to see, indeed.
In the split second that my physical features were adjusting to this unexpected surprise (and aren't all surprises unexpected, which is the reason why it is called a "surprise"?), my mind was desperately seeking an answer by asking questions:
Is it a rat?
Is it a creepy man petting me as I sleep... Mr. Antolini? I feel for you Holden.
Is it Foggy?
Whatever... I didn't care what the hell it was.
Alls I know is that I jumped hella fast out of my blanket and started shaking my head and body like a madman.
I even shouted in very manly voice, "AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
I shocked myself.
I thought that surely I would have awakened the rest of the house, but everything was silent.
All the while, my eyes were scanning the bed looking for the rat or Mr. Antolini.
I still couldn't see anything, but my body sure as hell felt the damn thing again.
This time the kinda small, kinda heavy, kinda warm thing ran across my body.
Again, my eyes shot open with pupils dilated, nostrils flared, and ears perked.
My body stiffened and I stopped breathing, but in all the excitement, I started to feel my right arm tingle.
I looked at my arm and I knew what had awoken me.
It was not a rat, but my dead, lifeless, numb arm.

Sometime in the night, I must have fallen asleep with my arm over my head and it must have gone completely numb after I unknowingly cut off its' circulation.
Then, my hand must have touched my forehead, but since my stupid hand lost all feeling, I didn't realize it.
And when I felt the "rat" for the second time, it must have been my arm swinging across my body, but of course I still didn't know it was my arm because it was still 100% numb.
The tingly-sensation was none other than my arm regaining blood.

So, I guess the most scariest thing that has ever happened to me wasn't very scary after all.
Unless you take into account the moment when I looked down at my right arm.
Because when I did, boy, it freaked me out.
Not only did it feel dead, but it looked dead, too.
It would be too difficult for me to explain what a dead, but not really dead, hand looks like, so I won't even try.
But, try to imagine it......................................

your personal hygiene...

2007-08-04T00:23:00.000-07:00

i feel so nice and clean right now...

i just clipped my nails, took a shower, and brushed my teeth (so minty-fresh).

i used to hate brushing my teeth, i still do actually.

when i was younger, the only time i ever felt motivated to brush my teeth was after i watched a catchy sesame street skit where a gazillion muppets would pop up from behind shower curtains, shake their heads back and forth, jump around, all the while singing, "kids just love to brush! we love it! we love it!"

to give you an idea of how the scene looked liked, here's a link to a youtube video of my colorful friends motivating the hell out of me:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xrJaN-OD1ig

i hope my dentist happens to watch this video before my next visit.

his breath shocks and suffocates me each time.

how terrible is it to have a dentist whose breath can trigger my gag-reflex?

it kinda scares me to think that i'm getting brushing tips from this guy because he's either not taking his own advice or he doesn't know what the hell he's talking about.

anyways, as i was cutting my fingernails, it struck me as a kinda odd thing to have to do.

isn't it strange how your nails just keep on growing and growing, and every once in a while everyone in the whole entire world has to take some time out to cut them?

unless you're a freak-of-nature, as this person clearly is:

i don't know who this person is, but, yikes!!!

let's hope that she's not trying to grow out her toenails, too.

there are only a handful of things in this world that disturb me as much as long toenails do.

it's so gross.

i especially hate it when girls give their disgusting little toes french manicures (is that what it's called?).

i can only imagine how long they must have had to grow out their toenails in order to have them done up that way.

gives me the heebie-geebies.

come people, cut them toenails, please!!!

don't be like those tiny dogs with claws that scratch the pavement as they walk (and bark... those tiny dogs always have to be barking, don't they?) past you.

please, take the time to brush and clip.

you're a wizard 'arry...

2007-07-23T11:53:00.000-07:00

harry potter is the best!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i'm so sad it's all over.
why, jk rowling, whyyyyyyyyyyy???
i stayed up until 3:30 this morning finishing the book.

don't worry, i won't spoil the ending.
(i won't pull a vee! puhahahaha!)
so you need not be afraid of reading the rest of this post.

what i want to do is tell you about the events leading up to my purchase of this final book.
for the past month or so, i've been skillfully dodging all things related to this magical book.
whenever it came on the news, i'd quickly switch channels.
whenever the wonderful world of wizards was discussed on the radio, i'd turn the dial with an almost unworldly speed.
and whenever people were engaged in a conversation about the-boy-who-lived, i'd hum a tune to drown out the noise and scamper away.
i did everything i could to avoid hearing how the book ends.

then, the day before the book was to come out, i said to my brother while rubbing my hands, "ooh, i can't wait until tomorrow when harry potter comes out. oh, i can't wait! i can't wait!"
then my brother said with a smirk of his face, "i know how it ends. do you want me to tell you? i know how it ends. muhahaha."
then, as if sent from dumbledore himself, i received a phone call, and hurried off to my room to answer it, leaving my brother sitting dumbfounded in the living, but all the while laughing, "muahahahaha!!!"

on the day of the release, my only plans were to get out of bed, buy the book, get back into bed, and read the whole thing.
years and years and years of reading these books, following the lives of these characters, and it all came down to this final installment.
i was filled with such joy and excitement - to finally be able to find out if and how harry potter was to defeat voldemort.
to read the conclusion with my own eyes, after weeks of close calls.
on my way out, my mom agreed to come with me to costco to buy harry potter, and as i was pulling out of the driveway i was recalling the exchange my brother and i had the previous day.
i was telling her how mean it was of him to threaten to spoil the ending of a story i've been following faithfully year after year.
but, to be fair, i told her that he didn't ruin the ending.
it couldn't have been more than a second after i said that, that she just blurted out the ending to me!!!
she just said it, plain and simple, with the same evil smirk eugene had on the day before.
more than 7 years of reading and waiting down the drain.
i was just mere minutes away from my goal, having successfully side-stepped all the potter-spoilers, leaks, and rumors.
then, just like that, my mom, my one and only mom, popped my happy, potter-filled bubble.
and all she could say in defense was, "well, what can i do? you talked about it first. it was on the news."
after about 5 good, long minutes of me yelling and screaming, "how can you just tell me the ending? how? hooooooooooooowwwwww? why did you do that? whhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyyy?" i finally calmed down.
and again from my mom, "well, what can i do?"
for those of you non-changs reading this blog, "well, what can i do?" is not a phrase used by my mom in it's literal meaning of "my poor baby, how can i help you?"
rather, translated it means, "well, whatever."
now, go ahead, reread the what my mom said to me after she ruined the book, using the translation i just gave you.
doesn't so nice does it?

i felt like i was harry potter, fighting against all the voldemorts of this world only to be defeated by dumbledore.

Rockyyyyyyyyyyy Rooooooaaadddddd!!!

2007-07-19T00:36:00.001-07:00

Let's see... when was it exactly??? hmm.....
It must have been about 2 weeks ago that I went to Costco with my mamasita and on the way back home, we stopped by Pak-n-Save (or as my dad likes to call it, Pay-n-Pak) to buy a few other items.
Now, each time I go to Pak-n-Save I have to buy doughnuts... lovely chocolate covered doughnuts.
So, I did.
But, along with the doughnuts, I also bought ice cream - mint chocolate chip (my fav) and coffee (for Cheddie, cuz she hates mint choco and i figured she'd like coffee, because, hey, who doesn't like coffee? well, apparently, cheddie).
Well, my family, the ravenous gluttons that we are, ate both cartons of ice cream in like a day, so my dad mentioned that he'd buy us some more.
Well, I called out at him to buy some rocky road ice cream, and no one could have imagined what would happen as a result.
Over the next 2 weeks, my dad would end up buying 15, yes, 15 cartons of rocky road ice cream!
Dreyers (3), Dreyers Slow Churned (2), Hagen Daas (3), Ben and Jerry's (3), Breyers (4)...
(I think I got the numbers right...)
Basically, he'd come home with 2-4 cartons of ice cream every couple of days and sing, "Rockyyyyyyyy Roooaaaaddd" as he placed them in the freezer.
There are currently 3 or 4 cartons in our freezer right now.
We've all told him to stop eating and buying it, but he just won't listen.
He blames me for his addiction.
He also blames me whenever he can't find any "rockies" - his word for "almonds."
One day, he said to me, "Jane, why doesn't this ice cream have any rockies?"
And I said, "I don't know. Did I make it?"
He replied, "No, you ate all the rockies. I seen you."
Now, this last statement of my father's was a outright lie.
Not only have I never, ever sat down and dug through the ice cream looking for "rockies," but my dad has never actually seen me eating ice cream either.
I usually eat it when he's as work or something.
He left me speechless... all I could do was laugh my head off.
Two things have resulted from this whole ordeal:
1) I eat an insane amount of ice cream everyday, and
2) I sometimes catch myself singing, "Rockyyyyyyyyyyyyy Roooaaaaaaaaaaaad!"

back in the days...

2007-06-19T19:13:00.000-07:00

Hello out there!
It's been so long that I've wrote in this thing that I forgot how to log into my own account.
It took me about 20 minutes of non-stop guessing to finally get it right.
It's also been so long that I've wrote in this thing that I forgot how to be super witty!
I joke.

Umm... let's see... where should I begin...
I will start off with a little story.
From the age of 4 to the age of 10, I attended a wonderful little school called Junipero Serra.
I have so many fond memories of that place...
The silent table,
The phlem-filled coughs of Ms. Emerson during lunch time,
And, "Hands up, all the hands! Hands down, no more talking!!!"
JS used to run like a mini-prison back then.
But, one of my best memories came when I was a little kindiegarner in Ms. Klein class.
~ Yes, Eugene, I have the ability to remember things before the age of 14. ~
I remember one day walking up to Ms. Klein and saying to her, "Ms. Klein, today is movie day."
And she enthusiastically replied, "Oh, Jane! Thank you for reminding me! I forgot!"
And then, she gave a hearty hug.
I felt so special and proud of my wonderful memory (although, years down the road, my El Camino teachers would not share Ms. Klein's enthusiasm for my movie day reminders).
Ms. Klein was the best.
17 years later, at the age of 22, I went back to her classroom as a TA.
Yes, she was still there and is there to this day.
It was such a strange experience.
That classroom looked the same, it even smelled the same... kinda like crayons and paste.
Then, just a couple weeks ago, I once again went back to JS as a substitute teacher (yikes!).
As my introduction to the class, I said, "My name is Miss Chang (yikes!) and JS was the elementary school I attended."
About now, the class would gasp and stare with wide eyes.
I would continue, "And, Ms. Klein was my kindergarten teacher!!!"
Again, more gasps, more wide eyes, and some chitter-chatter.
"Miss Chang, how long ago were you in her class?"
"I was here... let's see... I was here before you guys were born."
This time, there weren't many gasps or wide eyes.
It was at this point that I truly felt like an old fart.
Never in my life have I ever recalled such fond memories to an audience who was not even alive at the time, followed by the words "before you were born."
To top it off, the kids didn't even think it was strange that they hadn't been born yet.
To them, I was just another sub... another old person... of course they couldn't have been alive when I was a wee little lass.
I hecka grossed myself out with my oldness.
As soon as those fateful words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back and gobble 'em back up.
But alas!

it's me.........................

2007-01-29T21:24:00.000-08:00

it has been about 5 months since i have posted anything in this blog of mine...
and, from the lack of inquiries, it seems that, perhaps, i am the only one who has noticed.
just as i suspected.
well, since my only audience is myself, i would like to welcome me back.
welcome back, jane, welcome back!

since i am now painfully aware of the fact that my public blog is in actuality more like a private diary, i might as well make a few comments:

1) damn that cheddie girl for being obsessed with me. stop posting my beautiful mug on your page!

umm... well, that's about it.
by the way, i was just kidding about the "painfully aware" part... i really don't care.

i'm watching kqed right now.
i'm not sure what the program is about, but i like to turn on the tube and change the channel to kqed as background noise sometimes.
does that sound hecka geeky?
i love kqed and all things associated with it.
for instance, on kqed radio, you can listen to "this american life."
yes, i know that "t.a.l" is not a kqed program... any idiot knows that "from wbez chicago, it's this american life"... duh!!!
you can learn all sorts of things from kqed.
for instance, did you know that the breath of a giraffe smells kinda sweet?
or that the skin on the face of a rhino is similar to that of human skin?
or that this one black-and-white striped, native american, good ol' mr. spencer-type blanket could fetch $500,000?
did you?

umm... i realize that this post was pretty boring, but whatever... no one will ever know!

august 22, 2006

2006-08-22T13:08:00.000-07:00

i'm back.
my "vacation" is over and i'm back at school doing the same ol thing.
i just finished reading ched's blog.
what a sucker... she gotta a cubicle job.
just like her older brah-dah and older sisters...
she's commuting to the city, just like i used to.
good ol bart.
ched, that job sounds so crappy.
if i wasn't your sister i'd laugh in your face...
noooooo... since i am your sister, i'll laugh in your face!!!
puahahahahahahahaha!!!
it's strange how the cubicle sucks the life out of every single person.
i didn't decorate my cube either.
all i had was a calendar with all the vacation days and my quitting day highlighted and circled.
my job was pretty cool though...
you know the "lounge" that has all the cool sofas and games and crap for the workers to enjoy during their break time, but never actually gets used except for meetings because you'll look like a slacker if you're in there for any other reason?
every office has one.
anyways, i took full advantage of it one day.
a couple coworkers and i went in there and spent a good hour playing video games and board games...
plus, it had glass walls, so it's not like we could just sneak in there.
All the other people in the office would stop for a couple minutes and glare at us with envy.

it's funny...
right now, my brother and sisters are all "american dream"-y.
they're like, "i wanna become a lawyer" or "i'm gonna be a doctor" and crap.
you know, to makes loads of cash...
but, who's the smart money maker?
me, jane "the non-lawyer/doctor money machine" chang.

see, here's how i figure...
Eugene + working as an intern + minimum wage + loans = broke and stressed out
Jamie + phd school = broke and stressed out
Cheddie + crappy cubicle job at law firm = broke and stressed out

Now, let's take a look at me...
Jane + no dreams of becoming a lawyer or a doctor + "teaching" jobs = money in the pocket and
vacation for about a 1/4 of the year.

hmmm... now, who wants to rethink their career goals?
what?
what's that now?
you'd rather work crazy long hours and have a "jd" or "phd" attached to your name instead of a "ms" or "mr?"
well, alright then.

but, please don't forget that when all your loans have been paid and you're all ballers and you all have families to support, that you'll always have a crazy sister who'll come to your homes like a thief in the night and leave with pockets full of your finest jewelry.
see, unlike you doctors and lawyers, it's not below me to steal from my own family.
i'm still "down" and "with it."
i'll still remember that i came from daly city.
Puhahahahahahahaha.
i kill myself.

well, moving on...
i packed up most of my belongings yesterday.
i still don't feel like i'm leaving, which is the reason why i'm not so sad, but it'll be a different story when i'm aboard the plane.
i'm planning on staying up all night friday, then popping them dramamines (original) in my mouth like mnm's.
that way, i'll be fast alseep until i land and i'll have enough engery for the jin wedding.

so, what have i learned from my year away from home?
i learned that mosquitoes can fly under your blanket and bite you... 3 times... so you might as well kick the blanket off and enjoy the aircon.

have you missed me?????????????????

2006-08-02T10:07:00.000-07:00

hello, all!
it's been a long time since i've contacted any of you...
and, i don't want to write out a bunch of emails, so this will be it.
i've been pretty busy over here with english camps and crap.
all the kids are on summer vacation, so my schedule has really freed up.
i only teach from 9-12...
so, i get in at 9 and check out at 12.
that means, i leave no time for myself to use the computer.
i'm in and out...
none of you will be hearing from me much for the remainder of my stay for this reason.
i do check my emails occasionally, but, i hardly respond for lack of time.
so, write if you want, but don't expect a quick response.
i'm fine and i'll try to send out emails when i can.

the supremes...

2006-07-14T09:13:00.000-07:00

I have some hella kick-a friends.
There are 7 of us total.
I met all of my girls in high school (although they all met each other in elementary/middle school).
Our high school: El Camino.
It wasn't a bad high school, but when your school is painted like 5 different colors, uses another schools football field for their home games, and has classrooms that have more students than desks, I guess you can say it wasn't the greatest either.
In my graduating class, very few went to the UCs, a decent amount went to State, a decent amount went to JCs, and decent amount decided school just wasn't their thing.

With that said, let me show tell you why my friends are so "kick-a."
I keep in the closest touch with 3 of them... and here they are:
Vee: This girl just freakin heard that she's gonna work for the freakin IRS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Damn, how cool is that? Congrats, Vee! (this posting was inspired by you!)
Djana: She's in NY studying to become a freakin doctor! A real life doctor. Not a Phd, but a freakin MD!!! Paging Dr. Jose... paging Dj. Jose...
Jilly: She's a researcher in freakin Sillicon Valley! She does all this crazy stuff with the computer and internet and stuff. When she talks to me, I get a headache! hahahahaha.

Of course, my 3 other friends are just as cool, but since I'm not 100% sure of their plans, I decided not to include them...
However, I am lead to believe that their futures involve law, business, and media.

Now, how many of you out there can say that you came out of a school like El Camino, from a city like Daly City, and say the things that I just said about my friends?

so full...

2006-07-07T15:49:00.000-07:00

I'm so lucky sometimes...

Today, one student gave me 5 bars of chocolate.
Later, a group of girls came up to me and gave me a sandwich they made in Home Ec.
Then, just a couple minutes ago, the office secretary gave me 3 cherry tomatoes.

So lucky... eating food and listening to SG Wannabe.
What more can a girls ask for?
hahahaha.

Mommy and Daddy...

2006-07-03T10:39:00.000-07:00

I have noticed something that has been brought up in blogs of my siblings and me.
More recently, we've all written about our mama and our papa.
We love them.
If you want to read about what my siblings wrote, here are you are:
My brother... aka "Rat Eyes"... www.xanga.com/thomaspaine
My older sister... aka "5-Fingers"... www.jamiechang.com
My little sister... aka "Crooked Face"... www.xanga.com/lvia_lviaquez

Anyways, in tribute to my parents, I am going to dedicate this whole post to them.

Where do I begin?
Well, my parents are rather silly.
You see, they came to America at a very young age and with hardly any money.
Most non-silly people would have worked hard and tried to make lots of money and live a life of luxury.
However, my silly parents worked hard, tried to make lots of money, but kissed their lives of luxury goodbye when they decided to have not 1, not 2, not 3, but 4 children... one every 2 years.
Nothing says a life of hardships and near-poverty like 4 children.
Hello, Excedrine!
Goodbye, Freedom!

My parents always made sure we did well in school, especially my mom.
My mom had a way, a method, a trick to make sure we did well in school.
I think 2Pac can explain this better than I can, so please allow him to explain things for me:
"Mama catch me, put a whoopin to my backside."
Of course, 2Pac is talking about drugs and running away from the police, whereas I am talking about getting a B, but our mamas did the same thing!!!
And, this little trick did wonders.
June 17, 2006 marked the day that my parents put 4 children through the UC system.
To date:
Eugene, child #1: in law school... gonna be a lawyer (and rich)
Jamie, child #2: going to get her PhD come Fall (she's gonna be rich)
Jane, child #3: umm... cough cough... ummm... she graduated from Berkeley, that's something, right? She wants to help poor people (she's gonna be poor)
Cheddie, child #4: recent college grad, got an interview for some internship, wants to go to a better law school than Eugene (she's gonna be rich)

Mommy, Daddy, when you see that list, doesn't it put a smile on your face?
Because of all your back breaking hard work, your 4 little bundles of misery have grown up to become 4 big bundles of cash!!!
Well, with the exception of Child #3.
Child #3 is going to be a poor... and she wants me to tell you both that she's banking on you guys giving her the house in DC because she will never be able to afford one on her own.
Oh, and she also wants you to throw in a car while your at it.

See, Mommy?
See, Daddy?
Weren't all those years of blood, sweat, and tears kinda worth it?
You guys have given your children the luxury of choosing what they want to do in their lives.

Now, I said that this post going to be all about my parents, but I've talked an awful lot about my siblings and me.
But, we are our parents and our parents are us.
They molded us into who we are...
And we are what they live for.

thou shall not lie...

2006-06-30T09:40:00.000-07:00

Lying is not good... as a matter of fact, it is a sin.
Some synonyms for lying are: deceitful, two-faced, dishonest, insincere.
Ouch, now those are some harsh words!

However awful it may be to lie and to be a liar, I can't help but like it.
I'm always really proud of myself when I can tell a terrific lie without flinching.
I never understood people who say, "look me in the eyes and say it."
Fine, I'll look straight into your eyes... give me your nose, mouth, and ears while your at... it just don't matter!
I also take a real pleasure in cooking up a great, big whopper for my friends and family to get out of tight spots.
Like, when they don't want to go into work or to a dinner party.
And, I can't help but respect people who are better liars than I.
And, there are many.
I look at them, and I hear their lies, and I am left in awe.
One of my goals in life is to be the greatest liar in the world.
Although, at this point in my life, I'm afraid I will never be able to attain this goal.
But, I will try, dammit, I will try!

Holden, you are what I am striving to become!!!

My brother and my sisters are damn good liars as well.
Sometimes I feel they are at an advantage because they have a good grasp of the English language...
Whereas, I fall short... I don't even think my hand is on the bar!!!
Damn them for their English-speaking ways!
(Maybe I shouldn't be damning them, seeing as it is a sin to lie, and they are good liars, and they don't regularly attend church. puahahahha)
But, I think I have had the most fun making up lies with my siblings.
I see it as our bonding moments.
Yes, lying and, perhaps, biting.

I love biting people.
It's fun... you should try (i suggest biting the elbow... anywhere else and the bitee will be pissed).
If I have bitten you, that is a sure sign that I consider you a great pal.
It is not uncommon to find one of us sitting on the couch gnawing on another arm.
See?
How many times do I have to tell you that my family is crazy?
Although, I think part of the reason why we like biting each other is because we're all ravenous pigs.
We can eat for ages and a half.
Our mouths are just used to chewing and biting.
So, if there is no food, then in goes someone's triceps.
Oh man, no food = unhappy family.
There's always a mini war that breaks out over the last piece of food.
It can be a little bit of cookie and you'll see us jumping over couches to get to it first.
You would think that we were being starved or something... but, the weekly trips to Costco would prove otherwise.

There's one thing that I do, which I think is very, very smart, but everyone else thinks is very, very annoying and selfish.
Like I said, wars break out over food in my house, so you can only imagine what happens when a wonderful box of assorted See's chocolates appears in my house.
So, this is what I do.
I open the box when hopefully no one else is around, and I take sample bites out of each and everyone of the chocolates.
The yummy ones I will go back to and finish off, but the yucky ones (the dark choco, the nutty, the fruit flavored) will remain in the box.
So, when the rest of my family opens the box, all they are left with are the disgusting, partially eaten chocolates.
Shout as they may, the yummy chocolates are not going to magically reappear and the yucky chocolates aren't going to be whole once again.
Besides, I am in a state of euphoria after eating to my tummy's delight, so I pay no heed to the chorus of, "Jane!!!" being yelled out.
Smart, right?
This is what I have to do to survive!
puahahahahaha.
That and put some ice cream bars at the very back of freezer where no one can see.
(as a side note: no one in my family does the above sentence anymore because it has been done so often that when there is no more ice cream visible in the freezer, we will all immediately reach in the back.)

All this talk of food has made me hungry.
Where is a nice, juicy arm?
Puhahahahaha!
I joke... kinda.

Funny, funny...

2006-06-22T15:28:00.000-07:00

Ok, I think it's pretty obvious that I am bored... and that I have no classes today.
Anyways, I'm listening to TAL and a song came on.
A song that all of you know... it's catchy as hell and they lyrics are hecka funny.
So, I looked up the lyrics... here you are:

Istanbul was Constantinople
Now it's Istanbul, not Constantinople
Been a long time gone, Constantinople
Now it's Turkish delight on a moonlit night

Every gal in Constantinople
Lives in Istanbul, not Constantinople
So if you've a date in Constantinople
She'll be waiting in Istanbul

Even old New York was once New Amsterdam
Why they changed it I can't say
People just liked it better that way

So take me back to Constantinople
No, you can't go back to Constantinople
Been a long time gone, Constantinople
Why did Constantinople get the works
That's nobody's business but the Turks

Istanbul (Istanbul)Istanbul (Istanbul)

Even old New York was once New Amsterdam
Why they changed it I can't say
People just liked it better that way

Istanbul was Constantinople
Now it's Istanbul, not Constantinople
Been a long time gone, Constantinople
Why did Constantinople get the works
That's nobody's business but the Turks

So take me back to Constantinople
No, you can't go back to Constantinople
Been a long time gone, Constantinople
Why did Constantinople get the works
That's nobody's business but the Turks
Istanbul

how dare you...

2006-06-22T13:47:00.000-07:00

I checked Ched's blog this morning, when I got into work, then I just checked it again (yes, i check people's blogs multiple times throughtout my boring day) and to my surprise, it was updated.
She loaded some pictures of my crazy family.
They were all sweaty and smiling and stuff...
Now, let me get some things off of my chest:

Eugene: how dare you have long hair? and have a slight dimple in one of the pictures?
Jamie: how dare you never seem to have anything i can "how dare you" on?
Ched: how dare you, the youngest chang, graduate from college? how double dare you?
(side note: ched graduating from college brings back a feeling i felt about 11 years ago when she graduated from elementary school... like it's an end of an era. sniff sniff)
Mommy and GaeDDongNyun: how dare you have 4 children? how double, triple, friple dare you?
(yes, i know friple does not follow triple. and yes, i know friple is not a word.)

While I'm on my "how dare you" rampage, let me move on to my dear friends...
Friends: how dare you hang out with cheddie? especially without me? you girls are silly. i'm going to pretend that you, in your delusion, thought cheddie was actually me. yes, that is what i will think. silly girls. silly, silly girls. puhahahaa!!!

Jane: how dare you write 2 blog entries in one day???

interviews...

2006-06-22T13:10:00.000-07:00

For the past 3 weeks, I've been interviewing some kids in English for some reason.
That reason, I do not know.
Someone said, "interview," so I interview.

What I do is, I go into the classrooms, sit in one of the 2 seats set up in the front of the class, then call a number.
The number = a student
The student then proceeds to sit down and I then proceed to ask some questions:
Can you tell me about yourself? (for the dumber kids: introduction)
Why are you interested in English? (for the dummies: why do you like english?)
What do you want to be when you grow up? (dumb and dumber: what is your dream?)

In total, there were about 150 kids I had to interview.
150 fobby-a kids.
... asking the same questions (for comparative purposes) and listening to the same fobby answers.
It gets really boring.
Really, really boring.
Sometimes, I can't hold in my yawns.
However, there were 2 interviews that made all the other ones worth it.

Interview 1
Sitting in from of the classroom, my back towards the kids, I called out a number.
As I was writing some comments down about the previous interview, I heard some shuffling, scruffling noises.
The image of an overgrown rat popped into my head.
When I look up, seated in front of me is this scraggily girl with her head down.
I couldn’t see her face, but just the way she seated herself made me want to laugh.
Most kids would just sit down and awkwardly stare at me, all nervous-like.
But this girl just scrambled into the seat, body hunched over, face down, arms and legs strewn in every direction.
Then, just as suddenly as she appeared in front of me, she looked up with a huge smile on her face and I was about to bust up.
She seriously looked like a human she-rat!
Her face was narrow, her eyes were beady and small and black (from her black contacts), her skin was pale, her teeth yellow and crooked, and her hair in a mange.

Interview 2
This was my last interview on the last day.
A boy sat down in front of me and was nervous as hell.
He kept looking up at the ceiling when he answered my questions and covering his mouth and scratching a zit on his nose, which began to bleed (although, he didn’t know)…
But, the thing that killed me was that he would start to laugh when he couldn’t think of an answer.
He knew that he was pretty sucky, so when he got stuck, he would look at me, and I assume, see the look of confusion on my face, and begin to giggle.
I didn’t want to laugh, but knowing that it would be terrible to laugh as I interview this poor kid, obviously because he sucks, made me want to laugh even more.
Like when you get the giggles during a sermon… you know you shouldn’t, but when you think about how you shouldn't be laughing, you bust up even more.
His giggling + his fobby answers + bleeding nose = jane laughing like a madman
I couldn't help it.
Poor kid, huh?
He summons up the courage to get interviewed in English, and his teacher (me) ends up laughing in his face.

Dae~ Han Min Guk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2006-06-14T10:33:00.000-07:00

I don't know if you remember a list I made a few months back...
It was a list of things that never fail to make me smile...
One of the things I listed was the thought of my father during the 2002 World Cup wearing a "Be The Reds" or "Red Devils" t-shirt over his big, brown, bulky, leather jacket.
Yes, that's right, he wore the t-shirt over his jacket... not under.
That's my dad.
He's crazy.
Just the way I like it.
My whole family is crazy.
Now, it's 2006 and it's World Cup time again.
So, what does my father do?
He does this:

GAE-DDONG-NYUN!!!

Thanks for emailing me the picture, Ched... it made my day.

Note: Korea defeated Togo, 2:1.

sloooooooow motion...

2006-06-02T10:46:00.000-07:00

Last Friday night, I was chillin' near the subway station with my friends, just chewing the fat, when I heard a whole bunch of shouting.
When I turned my head to see what all the fuss was about, I find that there are 2 men engaged in a hilarious fight.
It was only 9pm and these men were already wasted.
They yelled, they shouted, they punched, they kicked...
Maybe I've witnessed too many high school fights or watched too many action flicks, but they way these 2 old farts were fighting was just really.... well, slow.
It was like the equivalent of running a lap in the swimming pool.
It seriously seemed like it was in slow motion.
It made me kinda sad to watch them.
Not really because these were 60-something year olds brawling in the middle of the street.
Nor was it because they were drunk at 9pm.
Nor was it because one of them lost their shoe after falling on the floor.
But, it was because it showed me just how much your body breaks down with age.
It's just sad.
You could see how much effort they were puting into this fight...
So much heart.
But, their broken bodies wouldn't let them do what their minds wanted them to do.
It was like, "Take that! ..... oomph....."
They were so stiff and awkward looking.

After some slap-your-knee funny kicks and punches, my friends broke up the fight.

Goal in life: stretch, exercise, and eat healthy food so if i ever get into a fight when i'm 65, some loser will write about how super cool my cat-like reflexes were in their blog.

faceism...

2006-05-19T10:04:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, when I see something funny or interesting, I think to myself, "I should write about that in my blog..."
Geeky, I know.
But, once I actually get around to writing in this thing, I usually forget what I was going to write about or can't put it in words.
Additionally, I'm quite infamous for my terrible story-telling skills.
From a very young age, as far back as I can remember, I was told time and time again that I should give up on story-telling.
According to my calculations, there was only one time that I told a story and my siblings did not criticize me.
As a matter of fact, they laughed and rather enjoyed themselves.
You see, it's so rare for me to actually get that kind of reaction that I actually remember what story I told...
It was about a Seinfeld episode involving Kramer, a baseball player, a whole lot of fist-pounding, and some yelping.
It was very funny, very funny indeed.
But, I digress.
("Digression!" as they would yell out in Holden's old English class.)

Before I began this entry, I was trying to think of something interesting to share.
And, the only thing that popped into my mind was how much ugly people bother me.
Jilly once told me to write about this, but I always held back.
It's just not that nice to feel this way.
I've even gone so far as to call myself a faceist... (not a facist, mind you)
Yes, my dear friend, I am a faceist.

Ex 1: No, I do not think all babies are cute.
When I see an ugly baby, I will proclaim, "that kid is uuuuuh-guuuhhhh-leeeeeeeee!"
Then, turn away in disgust... but, not before sticking my tongue out at the beast.
Ex 2: I refuse to watch any Korean dramas if the main characters are not good-looking, no matter how interesting the story.
Ex 3: (this is my meanest example, but i'll be damned if you all don't feel the same way!!!) I feel less sorry for a handicapped or mentally retarded person if they are ugly.
Like, if I see a handicapped or mentally retarded person who is good-looking, I think, "wow, that's so sad. what a waste! they're so cute!"
But, if they aren't good looking, I think, "wow... that sucks. ah well. such is life. whateva."
Ex 4: Sometimes, I get the sudden urge to punch a person in their face if they are a particular kind of ugly.
This is a little hard to explain, so I won't even bother.
Ex 5: I think it's much funner to hang out with fun people who are good-looking than to hang out with fun people who are ugly.

~As a disclaimer, these examples make me seem much more faceist than I actually am. I swear, I have a heart somewhere inside of this cold, hardened shell I call a body.~

Some people may say, "Jane, you're not all that either. Who gives you the right to be so critical of other people's faces?"
Well, dammit, I give myself the right.
It's not because I think I'm so gorgeous that I make these remarks or think these thoughts.
It's just a matter of fact.
Does one need to be good looking in order to criticize the uglies of this world?
No!
That's like saying I can't be like, "wow, the sun is hella hot" just because I'm not like a billion degrees. (or is it?)

The sun is hot... fact.
Usher is ugly... fact.
Jane is a faceist... fact.

parrrrrrrr-tayyyyyyyyyyyy!!!

2006-05-12T09:26:00.000-07:00

It's 8:54am and I have the sudden urge to write.
I don't have anything in particular to write about, but the school is quiet, the air is crisp, and everything feels calm.
There's something about the mornings I really like... especially the early morning, when everyone else is still asleep.
It's obviously not early morning right now, but it kinda feels that way.

Hmmm... what can I ramble on about right now?
See, that's my problem, I'm always in the mood to write, but never have anything to write about.
Wait!
That's something I can write about... the word "write."
Because, technically speaking, I'm not writing, I'm typing.
Wow, in that previous sentence, I just named 3 different types of communication.

Oh my God, what am I talking about right now?
(or rather, what am i typing about right now?)

Pull yourself together, Jane!!!

Yesterday, I read a article in the NY Times about quinceañeras and it got me thinking.
Latinas have quinceañeras for their 15th bday.
Filipinos have cotillions for thier 18th day.
Americans have their sweet-16s.
And what do Koreans have?
A grand celebration on their 60th bday!
What's up with that?
It's like, 'whoo hoo, i'm still alive! let's boogie!"
Why don't Koreans have some cool coming of age party?
Oh, but let's not forget the 100th day party!
That's right, we krazy Koreanz celebrate the 100th day of life, too.
We have 2 parties!
That's right TWO!
One, TWO!
100th day and 60 years.
We sure know how to party it up!
puhahahahahahhahahahhahahhahahaha!!!

Anyhoo.
Have a lovely weekend, all.

Calvin and Hobbes...

2006-04-26T10:07:00.000-07:00

Many, many years ago, I was in the restroom reading Calvin and Hobbes and there was this one scene that really stood out to me.

Before I continue, let me briefly break off into a tangent.
Growing up, my family has always had books, magazines, newpapers, etc in the bathroom so that we could read as we did our thing.
I think that without exception, Calvin and Hobbes was our favorite read.
But, one thing that each of us did that drove everyone else crazy was read the lines out loud.
Each of us created voices for Calvin and Hobbes in our heads, so when we would hear each other reading everything aloud, it would bug the heck out of us.
It was bad enough when one of us read everything in our normal voices, but when we tried to change our voices to what we thought they should sound like... man, it was maddening.
So, it wasn't uncommon to hear one of us reading the lines, another one of us yelling, "Ah!!! Shut up! That's not what they sound like! Shut up!"
Then, hear some banging on the door, then the lines being read even louder, then, "Lalalalalala! shut up! lalalalalalala."

Okay, back to my original thoughts.
Where was I?
Oh, yes.
So, there was one particular scene from Calvin and Hobbes that stood out to me.
It's a scene where Calvin and Hobbes are getting ready for bed, and when they are all nice and comfy, Calvin asks Hobbes why people dream, and Hobbes says, "I think we dream so we don't have to be apart so long. If we're in each other's dreams, we can be together all the time."
Then Calvin says, "Well, I’ll see you in a few minutes, Ol’ buddy.”
And Hobbes responds, "I'll be there."
And the next picture shows them sleeping with smiles on their faces.

Ever since I read that, I've always thought it'd be cool as hell if people can actually meet up in their dreams.
This way you can always be with friends and family, people you love, people you miss, people who make you hecka laugh, basically people you don't want to part with.
It'd be tons of fun!
I'm not saying that we should have control of our dreams, but if I dreamt that I was drinking a milky-green drink at a gathering of rich people with Cheddie, then Ched would be dreaming the same thing at the same time.
Then, if all of a sudden, the scene changes and I'm holding a hundred seagulls on a string and I see my mom in the distance, my mom would be dreaming that she sees me in the distance holding these seagulls.
Then, I would wake up and I could be like, "Hey, Cheddie, wasn't that drink hecka yummy? What does the color remind you of?"
And Ched would be like, "Dude, stop asking me that 'color' question! Oh, and that drink was good. You drank yours hecka fast!!!"
And then my mom could ask me later, "Did you see me when you were holding all those birds? I was going to wave to you, but your hands were full, so I didn't!!!"

Wouldn't that be hecka fun?

another boring post.................

2006-04-25T15:38:00.000-07:00

After class, I sat down at my desk to find an orange and sweet, sticky rice cakes on my desk.
Some of the parents sent them over for all the teachers eat and enjoy.
How asian can you get?
Oranges and rice cakes?
Man, if this were America, I would be waiting for someone to say "ching, chong, chinaman" to me.
But, luckily, I'm in Korea.

You know what's crazy?
While I was in Italy, 2 people went "ching, ching, ching" to me.
I forgot where I was the first time... but, the second time I was touring around Bologna, telling a classmate that a couple weeks prior someone made those sounds at me.
Then, as if it were scripted, a old man at the side of the road said "ching ching" to me, too!!!
What the hell?
And, it wasn't even because he overheard my conversation either.

On my flight Italy, there was hella turbulence.
Like, I thought the O2 masks were gonna drop any second.
I wasn't scared.
I figured, if we die, we die.
If we don't, we don't.
So, I was just kinda chillin.
But, the lady next to me would grab my arm and say:
"Mama mia!"
I was gonna bust up laughing because I thought that Italians didn't really say that.
I thought it was some Mario & Luigi thing.

Awww... Man!!!
I have to teach my afterschool classes now.
It's hard teaching these kids because I see them all during regular classes, which means I can't repeat lessons.
So, lately I've been having them work on word searches.
I'm showing them a movie next week.
Harry Potter.
The longest damn movie out there.
Oh yeah!!!

Happy B-day, Mommy!!!

2006-04-20T09:44:00.000-07:00

Today is Thursday, but it feels more like a Monday.
Not a good feeling.
Not a good feeling at all.
Whatever... get over it.

Today is also my mama's birthday!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOMMY!!!
I love you!!!
I sent you the best gift you'll ever receive... I've sent you my love.
muahahahahaha.
It's a very cheap gift, but priceless.
Don't expect anything to come in the mail, but expect something to come in your heart!!!
puahahahahaha!!!!!

korean looking american..........

2006-04-14T15:12:00.000-07:00

I'm sure I've written about this before, but I'm slightly senile and this is my blog, so I can write and rewrite about whatever I want, as many times as I want.
What I wanted to (re)write about is my life here in Korea... as a Korean who doesn't speak Korean.
There are tons of foreignies in America, so if people can't speak English, I'm like, "whateva."
But, in Korea, there aren't as many foreigners, especially foreigners who look Korean and are Korean, but only can only speak English.
It's a little hard to explain.

Before I continue, let me back up a bit.
I am a pretty private person.
(sure jane, that's why you have a blog, right?)
I don't like people knowing things about me.
I don't like people listening in on my conversations.
And, I really don't like it when people stare at me.
If I had a needle in my back pocket, I'd poke their eyes out!
*POP, POP*

Ok, imagine you're invisible.
Now, imagine you are walking along a busy farm town in Idaho, and you hear one of the potato growers speaking Italian.
Wouldn't that weird you out... and fascinate you at the same time?
It's like, "what the heck is this white farmer in idaho doing speaking italian?"
Well, that's the kinda of reaction I get when I open my mouth to talk.
I'm completely Korean looking, but I speak English.
So, when I start talking in English people often times do double takes or stare or ask me a billion questions.
It's hellz of annoying.
Everything I hate, they do!

Yes, yes, I know that I'm the cool American girl, but please, stand back!
puahahaha.
Lucky for me, I can turn off my conscience at my own convenience.
Like, if people want to hang out or get English lessons, I can easily say "yes," but walk away with no intention of keeping my promise.
I'm the queen of dodging people.
In college, I used to walk around talking to an imaginary friend on my cellphone to avoid having to talk to a real life person.

Anyways, often times, I find it best to keep my mouth shut.
This way I can prevent the staring and the questions.
mouth open = "wow, jane is so american and so cool!"
mouth shut = "jane, who?" = jane happy

barffffffff......................

2006-04-13T10:47:00.000-07:00

Last night, the other English teachers, the vice principal, and I went out to eat at a kinda swanky restaurant.
It's specialty is crab, but crab is pretty expensive, and the vp was paying for dinner.
Well, she said she didn't mind, so all the teachers ordered the crab... and so did I.

Now, I was expecting to eat a wonderful piece of crab the way that my mom makes it...
boiled and simmered in a delightfully spicy sauce that makes your mouth water.
(i'm salivating as we speak!)
Oh, it's so delicious!

But, when the waitress put the crab in front of me, I wanted to cry.
It was nothing like my mama's!!!
It wasn't even cooked.
Now, I didn't have a camera to document this terrifying moment, but I'll try my hardest to explain.

This disgusting dish is prepared by drowning a crab in soy sauce and spices for a few weeks.
Once the poor thing is dead and basically pickled, it's ready to serve.
The shell is still brownish in color, and it is cracked in half so all it's guts are spilling out.
Now, I don't see how Koreans see this as appetizing.
Anyways, the shell is cracked in half, the legs are pulled from the body, the meat is a little translucent, with a brownish tint (from the soy sauce), and there's all this orange and yellowish jiggly stuff everywhere.
I can only assume that these are some of it's organs.
It tastes really fishy and it's really salty.
And it's all slimy and wiggly in your mouth.
Dude, I have a hard time eating sashimi, so how I ate this thing, I do not know.
What I do know is that I will never assume all crab is my mom's crab.
And, I will never eat that piece of dung again!
Just thinking about makes me want to do one of those really ugly "i'm gonna barf" coughs.
You know, when you're body heaves forward, you're mouth is open, and your eyes are all red and watery.
Yeah, one of those coughs.

I do those coughs quite a lot.
Just like how that disgusting crab is that restaurant's specialty, throwing up is my disgusting specialty.
It really is.
I can basically throw up on cue.
If I was given a dime for every time I've thrown up in my life, I'd be a hundredaire (did you really think i'd say "millionaire." come, come, now who has actually thrown up 100,000 times? no one. let's be real here. by the way, did i do the math right? damn, i'm a dummy.).
Throwing up is like second nature to me.
I can be like, "Hey, I really like your shoes...* bAAARRfffffffffffff*... oops, sorry about that!"
For real.
It's disgusting, I know.

the sunny side...

2006-04-04T14:19:00.000-07:00

I have noticed a theme of negativity in my past few posts...
Now, some may say that it's just a reflection of my personality.
That I am a negative, mean person.
Come, come, we all know that that isn't true.
Yes, I feel less sorry for a handicapped person if they are ugly.
Yes, I have been known to call members of my family "bastards" (although, it's much better than my former usage of the word "faggot," right?)
And yes, I enjoy sticking my tongue out at little kids who stare at me.
However, on a more positive note, I also like to hold to the door or elevators open for strangers.
I also had fun writing my sister a poem for her birthday (which was the best damn poem she'll ever receive in her life!).
And, I also find myself not laughing when people trip or have to chase after a bus.

I don't know what the point of this blog is.
I would write a little more, to somehow find a way to make some sense of this nonsense, but I have class in a few minutes.
And, I'm getting tired.
I just had lunch... food coma.

Kill me now...

2006-04-03T12:43:00.000-07:00

Mondays suck.
It's gotten to the point where when I see the word "Monday" I get all like, "ughhhhh..."
Sunday nights suck, too.
Sunday nights mock me - "haha. technically, i am the weekend, but when you go to sleep tonight, you'll wake up to the sound of your alarm clock in the morning. haha. you can't really enjoy me. haha."
Whoever sang that song "This manic Monday... I wish it were Sunday..." should have sang, "This manic Monday... I wish it were Sunday... mornings..."
If Sunday nights were a person, I'd seriously give him the evil eye.
Now, Tuesdays aren't any treat either, but I'll let that one go.
Today is Monday, and I'm hating it.

You know what else I hate?
I hate it when I wake up in the middle of the night to a cold, numb, arm.
Whose arm?
My arm!!!
You know what I'm talking about?
... When you cut off circulation in your arm, so it's like a dead limb?
It's really creepy.
You can't even really move it.
The first time it happened to me, I was so freaked out.
I was like half asleep, so I wasn't sure if it was my arm or someone else's.

But, do you know what I love?
I love waking up thinking, "Oh my dear God, I have to get ready for work!!!"
But then, realize that it's Saturday or Sunday.
The initial shock makes the reality that much more sweeter.

I hate Mondays...

you must be crazy...

2006-03-31T09:07:00.000-08:00

There's this teacher who just passed by my desk.
Her English name is Scarlet.
She said she got it from the movie "Gone with the Wind."
I never watch the flick, but I figure one of the characters must be named Scarlet.
The only Scarlet I know of is the one from "The Scarlet Letter."
Was her name even Scarlet?
I don't even remember.
Although, I'm kinda doubting myself right now.
Anyways, that's what I think of when I hear that word/name.
Wasn't that lady from the scarlet letter some whore-bag or something?
Now, this teacher isn't a whore-bag (at least I don't think), but she sure looks like one.
She's like 50 or 60, has hecka long, dyed hair, has a face caked with make up, always wears short skirts and boots, wears hecka perfume, and sometimes talks in one of those annoying "i'm cute" voices.
She's strange.
She used to sit 2 desks away from me, but recently moved offices, so each time she sees me, she's always like, "Jane, come visit me! Why don't you come visit me? I'm on the 4th floor!"
Now, lady, why would I take the time to climb 2 flights of stairs to talk to a 50 or 60 year old woman who calls herself Scarlet... by choice, mind you?
I mean, c'mon!!!
Sure, she's nice and all, but does she honestly think I'm going just casually visit her to chit-chat?
I don't think so.

This is completey switching subjects, but I'm so happy it's Friday.
Once this day is over, I can head over to Seoul and relax.
Yesssssssssss.......................................

so ugly...

2006-03-30T13:01:00.000-08:00

I never realized, until quite recently, how much bad breath bothers me.
I don't understand how people can be so oblivious to their own stanky breath.
It's like they are farting through their mouths.
Now, I have been guilty of this crime myself - yes, it should be a crime.
I personally hate brushing my teeth, I really do.
However, when I do brush, I make sure I take the time to do it right.
Remember, the tongue.
You must brush the tongue.
Oh, my friend, you will gag, but the end result will leave you minty fresh.
Eugene, I'm not only talking about you here, but I must say, whenever I think about stanky breath, you are probably the first person who pops into my mind.
Stanky breath + golden teeth = Eugene

This morning, I was talking to this kid who lived in South Africa for a few years and his breath was hummin.
Yuck!
The way he talks is really unusual.
It's a mix between a Korean accent, a British accent, and something else.
It's really ugly to listen to.
He always says "ok" as "aewww-kayyy."
It's so annoying.
It's like, are you korean? english? african? southern? an alien, perhaps?
His breath, his accent, and his ugly face make me want to dislike him... to hit him, even.
It's true.
I know it's very terrible for me to feel this way, but there must be someone that you know of that makes you feel the same way.
Like, Usher or that one girl from "10 things i hate about you" (i have temporarily forgotten her name).
Right?
I mean, think of Ja-Rule, with his mole-like face, his phony, husky voice... doesn't it make you just want to sock the guy?
Man, my list can go on and on.
Here's another one, but this is only for the Changstas...
That one dude from church.
He looks like an overgrown mole.
You know, he's always with the youth group kids and he always says, "ya" to Eugene.
Now, tell me that you don't want to smush his face with your fist.
puahahahaha.
Or how about that one P... I will not say his name, because it feels kinda sacrilegious or something, but he's that one P who went to the picnic and made Allen go back to church to open the door for some lady.
You know who I'm talking about?

Okay, okay, I'll stop being so evilish.

crazy............

2006-03-24T10:32:00.000-08:00

Here are my siblings in a nutshell:
Eugene is a human version of Hobbes - all obese and sloth-like, with a hella deep belly button...
Jamie is a shopaholic...
Cheddie is a drunken bastard...
They make me laugh.
I never talk to them on the phone, so the only way I know what they are up to is by our occasional emails and by reading their blogs.
I swear, my family is full of some crazy-arse people.
The only common characteristic we all share is our slight insanity.
Like, we all laugh ourselves silly when Eugene flips his ugly cat in the air like an Italian flips his pizza dough.
And, we will literally go at each other necks over the last melon bar (it's an ice cream. ched, what does the color remind you of?).
And, we all love to put each other down to show how much we care.
There was even a time when we made a family newsletter.
I'm not quite sure why we did this or if we have any copies, but that newsletter was funny as hell.
We weren't little kids or anything when we wrote it either... we were all in college or high school.
(As my disclaimer, I never participated in the writing process. Although, it's not because I didn't want to, it's because I'm not an Englishy person, remember? Plus, my family would probably of have laughed at me...)

But, wait, let's not forget about my parents.
Yes, they are crazy as hell, too... where do you think we all get it from?
My dad, for example, said us kids were cheap and he hated us when we gave him a stack of books for Christmas.
This would be somewhat understandable if it wasn't for the fact that he said he didn't want anything in the first place or how he told me how much he would like to read those books or how we gave him other stuff in addition to the books.
My dad also likes to go to the bathroom and use the first toothbrush he sees.
It doesn't matter to him that he has his own or that my mom labeled it with a big "D" so he would stop using all of ours.
Needless to say, there have been many a toothbrush that have been tossed in the trash because of this.

My mom is the queen of crazy.
She's the type of person who backs out of the driveway, without fully looking behind her, and comes within inches of flattening someone.
Then, when we yell at her like, "Mom! Stop! Geez, what's wrong with you? Didn't you see that person?"
She'll respond with, "Well, they should have seen me backing up."
She also wakes up at the ungodly hour of 6am to go hiking.
Now, no one in the right state of mind would do something like that.
Oh, and she also likes to feed her poor, hungry children old, rotty food.
And, she likes to deny it.

And people wonder why I am the way I am.

baseball...

2006-03-16T14:57:00.000-08:00

Korea wins!
Korea defeats Japan in the World Baseball Classic, 2:1, advancing to the semi-finals!!!
Yahooooooooooooooooo!!!

White Day...

2006-03-15T14:12:00.000-08:00

I have a stalker.
Okay, maybe not a stalker.
But, this kid loves me.
He's my secret admirer, minus the "secret."
Alright, I may be overstating all of this.
To be honest, I'm basing all of this on two meetings with the kid.

Yesterday was White Day.
White day is basically Valentines Day, without all of the red.
Also, it's a day where guys gives candy to the girls.

Well, Monday-Wednesday, I sit up in the school's library during lunch and chew the fat with anybody who wants to practice their English with me.
Towards the end of the lunch hour, this little boy (a 1st year) comes up to me and just kinda stands there.
He doesn't say anything, but he just hangs around, staring at me.
I try talking to him, but it's obvious he has no clue what the heck I'm talking about.
I can say, "And he asked us, 'are ye angels?' and we said, 'nay, we are but men.' rock!" and he would just keep on staring.
So, I start talking to a group of girls and they give me a bunch of lollipops (it's White Day, remember), all the while that kid keeps staring.
After 15 minutes, the bell rings and all of us leave.

Now, today, I'm back in the library and the kid comes back.
This time, he shuffles around a bit, asks me (in Korean) if I can speak Korean, but I stare at him blankly.
The next thing you know, he pulls out a lollipop and gives it to me!
I'm like, "thank you so much!!!"
Then, 10 seconds later, he pulls out a heart-shaped Ferrero Rocher box, full of random candies (none of which are ferrero rochers), with a red piece of paper folded into the shape of a AIDS ribbon taped to the box.
So, I say, "Wow, that's so nice of you! thank you soooo much!"
Then, he reaches back into this Mary Poppins-like pocket and pulls out more candy and gives it to me!!!
He hangs out for the rest of the lunch hour and when it's time for me to leave, I hear little feet scuffling behind me.
I knew it must be the little boy, but I didn't want to turn around.
When I reach the teachers' office, 3 floors down from the library, I turn around and the kid is behind me, kinda smiling.
I walk into the office and to my desk and all the while, the kid is watching me from the doorway through the 1 inch crack of the door.

Now, tell me, is or is this kid not a stalker? (is that even proper english)?
I think he's bordering on stalker-status.
Actually, I'm trying to make myself feel special!!! hahahaha.
I mean, stalkers are creepy and scary, but don't all of us secretly kinda want one?
muahhahahahahahaha.

UPDATE: my little stalker just gave me more candy. puhhahaha. he gave one piece of a lemon-flavored mento. it was kinda salty... he must have been holding it in his sweaty little palms. kinda gross. kinda really gross. then, he stood around my desk for a while. once he left, i got up to deliver something to the other teachers' office, and when i look over at the doorway, i find this kid looking at me through a 1 inch crack in the doorway again!!! hahahaha. this kid is seriously crazy! crazy about me! when i caught him, he got all scared and shut the door!!!puahahahaha. man, i'm so full of myself for writing about this, huh? he's so cute though!

UPDATE: i finally know why that kid is stalking me. he's "special." i don't think he's retarded, but i think he has some learning diabilites, perhaps. i wonder what koreans consider "special." cuz, there are some kids (like this little kid) who seem 100% normal, but are labelled as special. kinda strange. so now i have solved this 3 day old mystery. and now, i don't have to feel kinda awkward whenever he hangs around me.

Ooh ee ooh ah ah...

2006-03-09T15:31:00.000-08:00

I have nothing in mind that I want to write about, but I'm in the mood to write.
So, please excuse me if I ramble on a bit... let's just hope that as I type away, something interesting will pop into my head.
Pip pop, pop into my head.
Tip top tippity top, pop into my head!!!
puhahahahaha... I'm crazy.

Since this is my first week of classes (it's a new school year), I had my class introduce themelves to me...
I did this last semester and in one class a girl got called a "hippo," and she began to cry.
Today, a girl got called a "giant" and she began to cry.
What's up with that?
First off, these kids just entered the 7th grade and they hardly know each other... why are they already calling each other names?
Second, why did these girls cry?
I remember when the boys in my 3rd grade classes would always say to me: "Ooh, ee, ooh, ah-ah, Jane Chang walla walla bing bang."
I didn't cry.
I just kicked these boys as hard as I could in the shins.
But, I guess that's a little different.
That girl who was called a "hippo" really was the homliest girl I have ever set my eyes on.
And, the "giant" really could have rivalled Andre.
I, on the hand, essentially had my very own theme song.
Plus, these boys were my friends.
Yeah, I guess I could understand why these girls cried.
I just wish they wouldn't do it so pathetic-like.
They just wept silently.
There wasn't any of that, "No, you're a hippo... you big, fat hippoface!"
Or, "Oh yeah? Well, you're a shrimp!"
They just kinda stayed in place, put their heads down, and cried.
Oh, if only I were allowed to speak Korean to the kiddies... I could teach them so much.
Hahaha...

Do any of you sometimes have the urge to fight someone?
Now, I have never gotten into any fights (unless you count the numerous times I had to open a can of whoop-a on my brother and sisters), but sometimes I wish that someone, preferably a really azn girl, would look at me the wrong way just so I could sock her.
Does anyone out there feel me on this?
Or am I sercretly hecka violent?
hahahaha.
I swear, I'm all about non-violence...
I mean, I'd never (i think) act upon this urge, so any of you who are azn or have azn friends need not worry.
Besides, it's not like I would win even if we did fight... although, I have been told I am freakishly strong... ha... freakishly strong... that's funny.

give me a hug...

2006-03-07T14:00:00.000-08:00

Yes, I am a "T.A.L." whorebag... I already admitted to that in a previous posting.
Now that I have told you this twice, let's us move beyond that point and into what I want to discuss today.
In the TAL episode I was listening to today, a man described a time when he got into a fight with this other guy, because the other guy called his mom a nasty name.
Here's what happened:
A man and his mom were stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic (with his mom driving) and his mom didn't let a car get in front of her.
So, the driver of this car yells out a bad word at her and proceeds to very, very, very slowly creep away.
Of course, the son would not stand for this, so, with his blood boiling, he gets out of the car to confront the name-caller.
They end up fighting in the middle of the street and are eventually broken up.
The son gets back into his car and not a word is spoken until he and his mom reach their destination.
When they get out of the car, the son begins to apologize to his mom, and to his surprise, she throws her arms around him and says, "No one has ever done that for me before."

As the man is telling this story, he actually begins to choke up.
This grown man, with a PhD, who got into a fight in the middle of a freeway, began to cry recalling this story.
This fight has become a precious memory.
He was proud of what he did... and so was his mom.
She would tell this story at dinner parties, when friends came to chit-chit, when family came to visit...

It's interesting what people end up remembering and holding dear in their hearts.
Do I remember my last few days of high school?
No.
Do I remember what I did during my college graduation?
Not really.
Do I remember how I felt when I began my first "real" job?
Nope.
What I do remember was when I was in kindergarten and I reminded my teacher that it was movie day.
She was so happy with me that she bent down and gave me a hug.
I felt so special.

superpowers...

2006-03-06T13:14:00.000-08:00

If you were given the choice of superpowers, would you rather be invisible or would you rather be able to fly?
Invisibility or flight?
Now, don't overthink the question... like, don't ask me how fast you can fly or if your footsteps will make sounds if you're invisible...
When I first thought of this question, I thought, "It'd be cool as hell if I can be invisible."
Imagine how many people you could spy on and all the things you could do.
I could pull out chairs from underneath people just as they are about to sit down.
I could read people's diaries as they are writing in them.
I could pants people in the middle of the sidewalk and they'll be none the wiser.
All very cool things to do... yet, they are all very nasty things to do.
See, I, as well as all of you, probably have the gut reaction to choose invisibility...
However, I, as well as all of you, would use this superpower for bad instead of good.
Invisibility is so sneaky.
And, don't all of us want to be sneaky?

But, the more I thought of it, the more I wanted to fly.
For as long as I could remember, I've wanted to fly.
I have been able to force myself to dream about everything except going to candyland and flying.
I seriously hella wanted to fly (as well as eat a house made of gumdrops).
You never see any little kids saying they want to be invisible... they always, always, always want to fly.
Kids are nasty, but they aren't evil.
Invisbility is evil.
So, in the end, I decided to choose flight.

Even though my initial reaction was to be invisible, meaning, perhaps, that invisibilty is what I really want, I chose flight.
And, isn't that what separates the good from the evil?
Choice?
Everyone has the choice to do good or to do bad.
Everyone has an angel and a devil on their shoulders, but which one are you going to listen to?
Which one will you choose?
C'mon, didn't any of you watch 'Devil's Advocate' or 'Harry Potter'?

I'm not saying I'm a good person... no, no, no.
I'm saying that my superpower is the power of choice.
puhahahahahahaha... that was corny as hell.
Forgive me.

yummy to my tummy...

2006-02-27T11:11:00.000-08:00

Over the weekend, I went to an amusement park called Lotte World.
After a long morning of walking around and standing in lines, my back was all hurty, as were my poor feet.
So, I decide to chill in the resting area for a quick second.
As I was sitting, I looked around the room at all the little kiddies running around with a look of disgust on my face.
Every single one of these little boogers were either eating a lolli-pop or a cookie and drinking soda.
There was this little baby, still in it's stoller, and instead of enjoying a bottle of milk, it was suckling on a bottle of Hi-C.
Then, the baby's dad gave him 2 cookies and the rascal popped both of them in his mouth.
I could feel my upper lip curling, my eyes narrowing, my stomach churning.
I was thinking, "what has this world turned into??? is it against the law to bring some carrot sticks to munch on? well, is it???"
Shaking my head, I looked down at my hands and, with surprise, I realized that in my left hand I held a bag full of chocolate and in my right, was half a cup of cola.
Ah well, life is short.

don't be road kill...

2006-02-22T11:30:00.000-08:00

One thing that I enjoy doing, but often forget to do, is look up at the building tops as I walk along the street.
Now, this wouldn't be the smartest thing to do if you were, say, approaching a busy intersection or if you have a broken neck or if you have a bloody nose (remember, look down when your nose is a-bleedin').
However, if you do not fall under any of those 3 categories, I highly recommend it.
Often times, building tops have really nice designs, statues, decorations, etc.
I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.
Try it... but, don't become roadkill.

Isn't road kill interesting?
People are always like, "ewww... look at that cat!!! It's guts are spilling out..."
and everyone responds, "you're nasty! why are you looking at that!"
And all the while, everyones eyes are glued to the guts and gory.
I remember this one time, riding with my buddy Vee, when she ran over a raccoon.
We thought it was a paper bag, so she didn't even swerve or anything.
We hit it dead on! (get it "dead" on! puahahahaha)
The car went, "thu-duh, thu-duh."
I can feel the car under my feet going up and down with each "thu-duh" as the raccoon passed under each set of wheels.
We were like, "is it dead? should we make a u-turn and check?"
We were seriously going to also...
The worst part it, instead of feeling all bad or grossed out, we were laughing the whole way home, repeating out loud the "thu-duh" noise, and wondering if her poor car had any blood splattered on it.
Good times.

By the way, HAPPY BIRTHDAY CRAZY (raccoon-killing) HORSE!!!

Another one of my friends hitting the big 2-4.
So old.
Ah well, I'm still the wonderfully youthful 2-3.
puahahhahhahaha.
Yup, that's right, I can still use "what's my age again" as my theme song... or perhaps "gansta's paradise."
("nobody likes it when you're 23" and "i'm 23 but will i live to see 24, the way things are going, i don't know"... respectively)
Actually, theme songs are Cheddie's thing.
She's probably throwing a fit that I'm even writing about it... crooked-faced and everything.

2006-02-20T11:30:00.000-08:00

You know one thing that never fails to trip me out?
Time...
I don't know anyone who wouldn't agree with me here.
Sometimes when I think about time, I get so frustrated that I want to pee my pants or peel off my skin or something.
I'm not even kidding.
Time is so strange...
We know the past, we know the present, but there is no way we can know the future.
Why?
Why can't we know the future in the same way we know the past or the present?
I don't know what's going to happen a minute from now, yet within the next 60 seconds, time will tick away and all of a sudden the future becomes the present, it's something I'm living, then it's gone... a memory.
Then, once it becomes the past, there's nothing you can do to change or undo what has happened.
Yes, you can correct or fix things of the past, but you can't actually change any events of the past.
So, you can't change the past and you don't know the future, you're only left with the present.
But, what does that mean?
To live in the moment?
Do all that carpe diem crap?
But, where does that get you?
In general, I think people usually do the things they do because ultimately, people want to be happy.
Study, get a good job, make lots of money... why?... so you can have everything you want and live a happy life.
But, would life be that much more worth living if you're always living like everyday was your last?
Like, if I dropped everything and seized the day (I say this very sarcastically), will I be happy?
I don't know about that.
But, when I'm old and weary, and I know that there aren't many more future-days to look forward to or many present-days to live, and all I am capable of doing is looking back at the past, will I wish that things could have been just a little different?
Will I wish that time was something I had more control of?
... then, when I realize that although I couldn't control time itself, I could've controlled some of what happened during that time, what then?

Ah, I don't know...
Time is crazy and it makes me crazy thinking of it.

Is there a doctor in the house?

2006-02-14T11:54:00.000-08:00

To start things off, I would like to announce that my older sister is going to be a doctor!!!
No, not the kind of doctor that gets all scapple-happy, but the kind of doctor that always insists that you address them as "dr." but when you look at their name in print, it says phd instead of md and you get hella mad that they force everyone to call them by that title.
Yup, my older sister will be Dr. Jamie, PhD.
Congratulations, Jamma!!!
You're the only one making mommy's dream come true.
(Hey, if you get a card or name tag that says, "Dr. Chang" can you give it to me? I'll wear my scrubs and flash that card around and pretend I'm hella cool and smart. I might even carry around some smart person book, but I'l look hella nonchalant about it. Hook it up, doctor.)

In other news, my mom and dad are leaving Korea later today.
After 2 weeks, they are leaving the country in which they were born.
And, as far as I can tell, they couldn't be happier to step on that plane.

There are so many things that I can write about that I'm at a loss for words.
All my thoughts are bottlenecked and none can get through...
Actually, my thoughts are like Mr. Burns' diseases, cancers, germs, etc.
For all you Simpsons fans out there, you should know that Mr. Burns has tons and tons of deadly, creepy-crawly things drifting around in his body.
So much, in fact, that not one of them can kill him because it's like they're all jammed in a doorway... fighting to get through, stuck and harmless.
Yup, those are my thoughts...
Just too many of them... if I manage to pull one out, then beware, because they just might start pouring out.
Hahahaha... yeah right, my mind full of thoughts?
That's like saying Homer isn't hungry.
It's just nonsense.
Hahahahaha.
No, I'm kidding.
I like to think.

i'm baaaaack.............................

2006-01-20T12:30:00.000-08:00

If I was just a bit more self-absorbed, I would have started this entry saying something like, "greetings, my faithful followers. i, the 8th wonder of the world, am back. i know, my little ones, that you have long awaited my return to the land of the blogs, for i have been absent for the past couple months. but, fear not. i have not abandoned you. here i am."

Dude, I really should stop making myself sound like I'm a god or something.
God should seriously send down a bolt a lightning an end me now.
No, He shouldn't.
I don't want to die.
There are so many things that I've never had the chance to do.
Like, going to NY and coming back with a Bah-stin accent...
Or figuring out how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop...
Or becoming an alcoholic... a dream I share with my little sister...

Speaking of dreams, I know that MLK day passed a couple days ago...
So, I would like to share a story, a true story, that I heard on This Am Life:

There was this father who had a little daughter who was curious about everything.
One day, she asked her father about Jesus.
She wanted to know who He was, what He did, what kind of person He was, everything.
So, the father told her everything about Jesus, how He often preached about love, doing unto others as you would have them do onto you, and read her parts of the bible.
Then, one day, they passed by a church and at the top of the church was a cross and on the cross was Jesus.
So, the daughter asked her father, why is Jesus on the cross?
What the father failed to tell his young daughter was that many people were angry at Jesus because of the things he preached and they killed him because of it, so the father proceeded to explain this to his daughter, and she was silent.

Then, months later when the daughter entered school, she had the day off to celebrate Martin Luther King, Jr.
Being a curious little girl, she asked her father who he was, what he did, what kind of person he was, everything.
So, the father told her everything about MLK, how he preached about love and equality.
So, the daughter said, it sounds like the same things Jesus talked about.
The father thought about it and said, yeah, I guess you're right.
And the daughter asked, did they kill him, too?

rick steves...

2005-12-28T11:52:00.000-08:00

I just finished reading about all of Ched's great adventures throughout Europe and it makes me wish I had some adventures of my own...
But then, I kicked myself in the head and said to myself, "Hellllllllllllllloooooooo!!! Jane, you're in freakin' Korea!!! You've been reunited with family and friends that you haven't seen in 9 years!!! You're a teacher in a freakin' middle school!!! Every day is a crazy, cool adventure!!!"
And then, I nodded in agreement with myself and I was well pleased.

Hey, imagine if I could really kick myself in the head!!!
Hey, imagine if Eugene could kick himself in the head... better yet, imagine if he could touch his toes without bending his knees... or pick up a toothbrush every now and then... PUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
I'm sorry.

"I want the chronic (what?) cles of Narina..."
I just had to throw that in there.

jane the vain...

2005-12-27T10:59:00.000-08:00

You know what I've noticed?
A lot of rappers and others claim that their masterful lyricism (did i just make up that word?) is the 8th wonder of the world.
I don't even know how many times I've heard people claim this or that as the "8th wonder of the world."
Well, I don't want to miss out on all the fun, so I hereby declare myself as the 8th wonder of the world.
That's right... from hence forth, Jane the Vain is the 8th wonder.
Marvel at my brilliance... go ahead... marvel (I'm currently standing, arms outstrected in a kind of Christ-like pose, with my head tilted upwards... oh, and there's a wonderful glow radiating from my body. Hmm... i sure am making myself sound like jesus or something, huh? "Hey, Jesus, are you going to larry's party later?" hahahahaha... Ched, that was for you.)

merry christmas...

2005-12-26T09:57:00.000-08:00

As some of you may or may not have guessed, I am currently in Korea, which means yesterday I spent my first Christmas away from my family, friends, DC, and the US of A.
It was very unChristmas-y, but very refreshing in many ways...
It was the first time my Christmas wasn't consumed with consumerism (you like my play on words? Brilliant, i know. puahhahaha!).
On both Christmas Eve and Christmas day, I spent all my time with the people I love and we just hung out.
All we wanted to do was be together, the gift exchange was just something we needed to do to get out of the way.
There weren't even any gifts exchanged between mi amigos y I... unless by "gifts" you mean love... in that case, there were tons of gifts exchanged... awwwww, how sweet.

oh my gah................

2005-12-22T14:45:00.000-08:00

I don't have any classes today, so I've basically been chillin' for the past 6 hours or so.
I don't have anything to write about.
I'm just bored, to tell you the truth.
Really bored.
The most exciting thing I did today was leave campus without asking to pay my bills and mail some Christmas cards to my family.
I paid my bills, but sent no cards... there were 3 too many people at the post office.
Literally, 3 too many people.
I walked in the door, saw 2 people at the counter and 3 people sitting down.
Those 3 people sitting down were an indication to me that I would have to sit down along side them and wait... something I was not willing to do.

Oh maiiii gahhhh...
Ni how ma... leon lai... meh-un du-bu...
I am so bored.
Can you tell how bored I am?
I'm practically lying down in my chair, my eyes half open, my jaw is completely relaxed, but I am tactful enough to keep my mouth shut... I don't want any drool to ruin my lovely coat.
Me legs are stretched in front of me and every once in a while I flex and rotate my feet to get the blood circulating again.

There have been a couple times when I was picking at my hangnails or drawing circles and filling them in when I looked up to find a kid waiting there to say "hi" to me.
That must not look very good.
Sometimes I hold a pen and take out a piece of paper with English written all over it and just stare, pretending I'm working on a lesson.
I'm not sure if people fall for it, but I don't really care.
Most of the time, I just sit there, eyes glazed over, daydreaming.

This Saturday, Christmas Eve, I'm gonna watch a ballet with my family.
What a snore.
I fell asleep during "Phantom of the Opera" and the circus... and I'm gonna fall asleep during the ballet.
I don't discriminate.

When I think of the ballet, I think of English people drinking tea and eating crumpets.
I don't know why... maybe because these are all supposed to be proper things.
That's another thing that reminds me of English people, the word "proper."
Hey, I wonder what reminds people of me...
KQED?
Cats?
Not very exciting, but I guess it's better than, say, a dung beetle.

What the hell am I talking about?
I apologize for all of this nonsense.
Although, if you, my dear reader, have made it this far, you are probably as bored as me... you should reconsider how to better spend your free time.
Stop sitting in front of the computer checking blogs.
Go out, get some fresh air, let the sun touch your pastey white skin...

In the middle...

2005-12-19T16:30:00.000-08:00

Okay, I'm listening to another episode of "This American Life" (as I am an 'T.A.L.'-whorebag... whateva, I don't care) and it's titled "Special Treatment."
This is, as the title suggests, about people who get special treatment for one reason or another.
They just finished talking to these siblings who agreed that younger kid got treated better than the older one.

So, this got me thinking about my own family.
Now, this may be the "middle-child syndrome" speaking, but I think it is safe to say that I definately never got treated better than my siblings... ever... never, ever, ever.
I'm one of those kids who are mean and complain, but not enough for my parents to buy me things to shut the hell up.
And, I'm nice, but not nice enough for my parents to notice and shower me with gifts.
I'm just kinda there.
Not too mean, not too nice, not too loud, not too quiet, not too needy...
You know, I'm in the middle... oh, yes, I am in the middle.

Oh,the life of a middle-child.
Do you want to know how "middle" I am?
When my brother left for college, my mom cried and my dad said, "goodbye," and we all watched him as his friend drove him away.
When Jamie left for college, my mom cried, my dad said, "goodbye," and the rest of us felt sad she was going so far away.
When Ched left, my mom cried (maybe out of joy), my dad said, "goodbye," and I was a little sad the brat would be gone.
When I left for college, my mom remained on the computer, my dad continued watching tv, I said "goodbye," no one looked up, I walked to my friend's car, and we pulled away from an empty driveway.

Eugene doesn't get gifts, but he's obviously my mom's favorite.
Jamie loves to manipulate my dad, and it works.
Ched gets anything and everything she wants... that crooked-faced bastard.
I, on the other hand, don't get anything.
Shhhh... mama, brother, sisters, please... don't try to argue with me... you know I'm right.
I never got any goodies.
Ah well... I don't need or want a car or money or laptops or ... or ... or ... love.
PUhahahahahaha... (I seriously kill myself)

For those of you who grow older and have tons of children, please don't ignore the middle-child...

the american life...

2005-12-09T15:26:00.000-08:00

I'm listening to "This American Life" and this one segment (dare I say, an "act") has people talk about various words or ideas that they believed when they were younger and continued to believe into adulthood.
For example, one lady thought the "children xing" signs around schools were "children zing," not "children crossing."
She figured that children had to zing across the street, as to not get run over, so it made sense.
She believed this well into her 30's.
It's funny, because when I was younger, I believed that same exact thing and pronounced it the same exact way.

Another thing that tripped me out, and I'm sure I'm not alone, was the 14kt necklace.
I remember when I was 4 or 5 years old, sitting in the living room with my mom and my brother.
My brother's 14kt necklace broke at the latch, so he and my mama were trying to fix it.
As they were doing this and that, my mom pointed out that the necklace was 14kts.
"14 carrots???" I thought.
Now, that's crazy.
How can a necklace have 14 carrots?
And, why can't I see these carrots?
I remember staring at that necklace and imagining these teeny-tiny carrots dangling on the chain... 14 of them, as a matter of fact.
Of course, they are too small for the eye to see...
But, I truly believed that somewhere on that necklace lived 14 little carrots.

I also remember when I was younger, I thought that babies came out of the belly button.
puhahahaha.

I also remember reading the line, "the ogre walked down the aisle" as "the og-ree walked down the ai-slee."
I'm sure Ched remembers this too because this line came out of a book that I was reading to her.
And, she laughed and laughed and corrected me.
Yes, my little sister corrected my English.

I also remember when I was in 5th grade, the class had to take turns reading out of the science book.
When it was my turn, I came across a word that I was not familiar with and pronounced it exactly like how it is spelt: con-science.
I pronounced "conscience" as "con-science."
Ms. Clements corrected me, I laughed a little, made a remark about how the word "science" threw me off, and kept on reading.

I guess you can say that I wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.
That's the reason why I would resort to the age old method of... cheating!!!
Yup, yup.
As I like to say (and I know that Eugene agrees with me), cheaters always prosper until they get caught.
Hhahahaha... I'm just kidding... no, i'm not...

Just kill me now...

2005-12-08T16:19:00.000-08:00

I just came back from a class where I interviewed a bunch of kids in English, and this one kid had some of the stankiest breath ever!!!
It's the type that lingers in the air with a thickness you can actually feel.
It's the type that can burn away your nose hairs.
It's the type that makes you hold you breath and stare at the person, wondering if they have ever heard of a toothbrush.
It's the type that makes you almost hate the person for insulting your olfactory.

I'm not saying that my breath smells like roses all day long (actually, i prefer the smell of mint on my breath... ah, so fresh!!!), but I am aware of when I need to divert the direction of my hummin' breath by covering my mouth or turning my head.
Sometimes, I wonder how the prepetrator can't smell the sewage coming out of their mouth.
I mean, c'mon, it's coming out from right under your nose!!!
Chew on a piece of gum, eat a candy, carry some tic-tacs around with you.

Hey, speaking of tic-tacs, I love the light green ones.
Who's with me?
It reminds me of my grandma.
(Hey, Ched, what the color of those light green tic-tacs remind you of??? hee hee)
The orange ones shouldn't even be considered a breath mint... let's be honest, it's just candy!!!

Everyone, please brush your teeth twice a day... (**cough, Eugene, cough**)
I'm not a fan of floss, but I highly recommend it.
Please, if not for yourselves, then for people like me... people who value their nose hair and oxygen.
Thank you.

And they're off...

2005-11-28T15:08:00.000-08:00

The girls (minus April) left today...
They're off to Tokyo...
I'm hella tired.

After 1 day and 2 nights, my apt is covered in hair and my drain is clogged.
Damn girls and their crazy hair...
I'm gonna cut mine.

I'm so tired...

Changs...

2005-11-24T16:12:00.000-08:00

Changs love to talk about how "chang" things are...
There's nothing more that a "Chang" likes to talk about.
It's like, "chang this" and "chang that"... "chang, chang, chang..."
My family is seriously self-absorbed.
We love talking about ourselves.
I dare you to find another family that has so much fun talking about themselves and throw their family's name around like we do.
However, if you know my family, you should know that calling something "chang" is not exactly a compliment... unless by "compliement" you mean "chang."
hahaha, that doesn't even make sense.
We're crazy...
If only you could read Cheddie's blog and the comments and the emails my family writes... then you'll know just how much we love (or hate, but especially love) being a Chang.
Well, I guess you can read Ched's blog:
www.xanga.com/lvia_lviaquez
(Ched, just returning the not-really-a-favor favor)

Why am I writing about this?
Because I can. (don't you hate it when people respond that way? It's so junior high.)

Anyhoo, my friends are coming to visit me tomorrow!!!
Yay!!!
We're going to sleep at my teeny, tiny apt.
I have 2 blankets, 2 pillow, and 2 mats... there are 6 of us.
And, it's going to rain on Sunday.
What the hell.
Let's hope it doesn't turn into a "chang" weekend...

yummm..

2005-11-17T22:47:00.000-08:00

I am currently smacking on a candy a student gave me to eat.
It's pretty nasty.
The kids here always give me things to eat... and you know what?
I always eat it.
Normally, I'd be a little suspicious about the flavor or the cleanliness of the candy, but not here, not anymore.
Just the other day, I ran into a student on the street, and she took my hand, put a candy on it, and shoved my hand into my mouth.
I didn't even have time to think.
One moment I'm all alone and candy-less, and the next moment I'm eating a candy while a strange little kid watches me.
If this were America, I'd smack the sucker!
Ok, maybe not.
I'd probably take the candy, say thank you, and throw it away.
I'm not a germ-a-phobe, but these are middle school kids... middle school kids are disgusting.
Everything about them is disgusting... they're all sorts of awkward and crap.
It's kinda like when a little kid digs in his pocket and pulls out a handful of jelly beans... you know he/she means well, but you don't want to eat the damn jellybeans, you know?

Anyways, I swear, they could give me a piece of chalk and I'd probably end up eating it.

the "e" word...

2005-11-16T23:03:00.000-08:00

You know what I noticed about "bloggers?"
They hella read other people's blogs!!!
Well, maybe it's just me, but I never read anyone's blog until I started one of my own.
It's fun reading about other people's boring lives... it's even funner to read all the comments other blog-readers leave behind.
Haha... I sound so geeky.
But, hey, what do you expect to hear from someone who has a blog?

Ugh... I disgust myself sometimes... I'm such a geek.
If I were a guy, I'd probably be wearing an ascot or something.
Hey, Eugene, don't some of your friends wear ascots?
No, they wear their sweaters around their necks, right?
No, no, no, they wear grey (gray???) turtlenecks and scarves, right?
You and your friends disgust me, too.
Puahahahahaha.

You know what sucks about being an English teacher in Korea (an English-crazy nation)?
Everyone and their mama thinks that I love English...
They all think that there's no better way for me to spend my free time than teaching English...
They think that English is my life...
They also think that they are the only ones who ask me for English favors.
You don't even know how many people ask me to teach them, tutor them, speak to them.
Damn me and my English-speaking ways!!!

I think that my blog clearly shows that I should not be allowed to teach the damn language.
I mean, I don't even know whether the lighter shade of black is spelt "grey" or "gray!"
Would you want me to be teaching your kids?
I wouldn't want me teaching my own kids.
They'd be hella fobby.
I was born and raised in the States, but I sometimes confuse my "r" and "w."
For example, I might say "weally" instead of "really."
I don't do it much, but it's been known to happen.
Just ask Jill or Vee (maybe Bre)... they lived with me for 3 years.
It's even worse when I'm with my fellow fobs (Vee, Jill, Djana, April, Bre, Leigh).

As Jill told my mom: my English has gone to the s-.
(she didn't actually use those exact words...)

November 16, 2005

2005-11-15T22:08:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday, Jane!!!

this is jeopardy...

2005-11-14T20:45:00.000-08:00

Hey, Eugene, Ched... I am the master of Jeopardy... thank you very much.
hahahahaha... are you guys laughing with me right now?
Let's laugh at that comment together... ready???... 1, 2, 3... puahahahhahahaha!!!
Jane, the master of Jeopardy???
I kill myself, sometimes!!!
Master of Jeopary...
More like the Jester of Jeopardy... puahahhhhahhaha.
By the way, I remember that plane question.
hahahaha.
Eugene's dumb... real dumb.
You dummy.
But, I shouldn't be talking because I agreed with him.
I guess I dummy, too.
Punk! (say it like daddy.)

...

2005-11-10T22:21:00.000-08:00

I'm listening to 'Forum' on KQED's internet radio and this lady is talking about mermaids...
She's like, "All cultures have mermaids. Everyones believes in mermaids..."
I'm thinking, "Huh? All cultures believe in mermaids? How about countries like Switzerland or Chad that don't touch the ocean?"
Then, she continued, "I think people believe in mermaids because everyone is a mermaid in the womb. And, blood, salt, and salt water all have the same chemical composition."
What?!?!
Now, she's singing this poem about birthdays, garbage, chinatown, the financial district, being a quarterback...
What a freakin' hippie.
I'm all about openmindedness, but this lady is just plain crazy...
Michael Krasney sounds a little scared by her hippiness.
hahahaha.

Dude, who wears contacts?
Don't you hate it when something flies into you eyes?
It hurts like hell.
As if your eye is being scratched apart.
You can't even blink it away...
About an hour ago, I was in class and I think some chalk dust flew into my eye (stupid Korea and it's chalkboards... hello, it's all about the dry-erase boards. Get with it Korea.), and it hurt so bad!!!

the cutest letter...

2005-11-10T20:31:00.000-08:00

Today is Peppero Day.
I got lots of yummy peppero and 1 letter from one of my students, Ji-Young.
This week, I've run into her almost every morning and we try to chew the fat - I ask her how she's doing, she says, "fine"... I ask her what class she has in the morning, she stares off into space and says, "I don't know"... I ask her what she did last night, she says, "ummm..."... I ask her if she watched tv, she says, "yes"... I ask her if she's cold, she says, "no."
That' s pretty much our dialogue each morning.

I wonder if she thinks I'm strange for asking her the same exact thing day after day...

Well, today, she gave me a humungoid box of peppero and this letter:

To Teacher... <3 ^^
Hi ~ Teacher!!
My name is Ji-young. 1 grade seven classroom
How are you? I am very well.
My have Monday four teacher classes a week.
It's fun talking to you <3
What's your view on this??
What do you think of Korea??
^o^
You're the best teacher in the world.
Bye ~ Have a nice day!! <3

Isn't that hecka cute?
I know I'm just flattering myself by posting that letter, but I don't care.
That's cute as hell.
I could see that she wrote some of it first in pencil, erased it, then wrote in marker.
hahahahaha.
I feel so special.

This is the first time I received a letter in long, long time.
I miss those days of writing letters...
When you can see how the person writes...
See how much care was put into your letter...
Look at all the cute stickers posted on the morning glory stationery...
Now, it's all about the emails...
The blogs...
I hate the computer...
So, why do I spend 8 hours of my day in front of it???

damn stairs...

2005-11-09T22:38:00.000-08:00

Remember my list of things that never fails to put a smile on my face?
If you don't, scroll down a little bit...
If you do, well, the jokes on me.
You see, in a previous entry, I wrote about how funny it is when someone scrubs on the top stair of a staircase, so, you can only guess what happened to me yesterday.
Yup, that's right, I scrubed.
Hold on, not so fast...
Before you all get tickled pink at my misfortune, I would like you to know that thanks to my cat-like reflexes, I did not fall on the floor.
I did one of those hella ugly balancing acts where your body sways back and forth, side to side, all the while making a face only a mother could love.
Yeah, you know what I'm talking about...
Like I just said, lucky for me I did not fall, however, I did spill some water on the floor (I was holding a cup) and a student passing by saw my acrobatics.
Oh, and here's the best part: I let out a, "uuuuhhhh whoa" right before I caught myself and then, I tried to play it off like nothing happened.
That's probably the most embarrassing part...
Well, it was bound to happen eventually.
I walk up and down 5 flights of stairs daily...

dang it, ched...

2005-11-06T16:53:00.000-08:00

I don't know what it is about reading Cheddie's blog, but it always makes me want to write in mine.
Maybe, I just want to out-funny her.
But, I don't see how that could happen, since I am a "math-science" girl, remember?
No, I mean, I'm a "math" girl.
Damn it, I know that you know that I'm just "a girl."
*sigh*

Hey, by the way Ched, that burrito looked damn good to me.
Damn good.
My stomach is growling at just the thought of it.
Who cares if it had lettuce?
You're in Ireland.
The country filled with little GREEN people... it's only natural that they would want to make everything green, even a burrito.
It's their nature.
It's in their blood.
Helllllllooooooooooooooooooo.
Duh, Cheddie, duh.
Just be grateful, you ungrateful bastard.
puahahahaha.

For all of you who are reading this, and are not a Chang: yes, I just called my little sister a bastard. It's the Chang way.

Anyways, I just finished writing emails to my family and friends about how much I hate Mondays, and how lonely and sad I feel.
If this was a tv show or a movie, Coldplay's "Trouble" would be playing in the background, and the camera would close in on my face as a tear trickles down my cheek, making it's way into my quivering mouth, and that's when I would lick it away and think, "why are tears so salty?"
puahhahhhhahahaha.
Seriously though, why are they so damn salty?

Alright, time for me to daydream about burritos while I wait for my next class to start...
mmm... burritos... uguhguhgug (that's the gargling sound Homer makes)...

Korea vs. Italy

2005-10-26T18:19:00.000-07:00

I just finished reading my sister's blog... and you know what's kinda sad?
I actually look forward to reading her new entries!!!
Same with my brother...
Each time I go to their blogs and it's not updated, a part of me (albeit, a very small part of me) is disappointed.
(Jamie, what the hell is your blog address?)

Well, this morning my sister's xenga site had a new entry and I started reading about her latest adventures in Ireland, but I realized I had a class to teach in a few minutes, so I decided to save it for later... as if it was something special.
You know, like when someone gives you a piece of candy and you keep it in your pocket until after dinner so you can fully enjoy it as you watch tv???
Sad, right?
I think it's because I'm so far away or something.
No, it's because I ate rice from the crazy rice-cooker (right, Silly Jilly?)

Anyways, my sister's stories from Ireland remind me when I was in Italy.
How everyone asked me if I was Japanese...
How it was completely obviously I was foreigner...
How everybody started to add a few Italian words in their day-to-day conversations...
It was fun.
It was kinda nice walking around fully aware that I stuck out like a sore thumb... all the Sienese/Italians knew that I was a foreigner (duh).
It made life much easier because everyone knew that I didn't know crap, so they were a little more patient with me when I ordered a meal or tried to find my way around town.

Now that I'm in Korea, and I look Korean, because I am Korean (duh), people aren't as accepting of my shortcomings.
Like, this one day, I went out to buy my aunt a birthday cake, and the cake-lady asked if I wanted some candles.
I said, "yes."
And she asked, "how many?"
And, it was at that point that I was at a loss for words and just held up 5 fingers.
Her back was towards me, so she didn't see my fingers and since I didn't say anything, she turned around, looking confused by my silence, staring at my fingers.
Instead of giving me 5 candles, she asked me again, "how many?"
As if my 5 fingers weren't enough to tell her.
So, I said,"five." (in english, mind you)
She seemed a little stunned that this Korean girl was speaking English, and kinda gave me the "what the..."-eye, but, in the end, gave me my 5 candles.

Jane, you don't know how to say "5" in Korean?
Well, sure I do...
But, there are 2 ways to say "five" in Korean, and they are not always used interchangeably.
And the pressure of having to answer her question made me go blank.
Also, there is a word you are supposed to use to refer to the candles, without actually saying "candles"... and you have to say it in order for the sentence to make sense.
Unfortunately, I didn't know that word.
So, I held up 5 fingers.

You see, being Korean and living in Italy made me look like a foreigner.
A foreigner trying their hardest to live in an unfamiliar land.
But, being Korean and living in Korea makes me look like a native who is a complete dumb-a.
A dumb-a who doesn't know how to say "5 candles" and instead holds up 5-fingers as if I am 3 years old or mute.

A mean blog entry...

2005-10-20T23:56:00.000-07:00

There's this girl who always, and I mean always, says to me, "Teacher! My name is ______ (something hella Korean). I'm genius!"
Every freakin' day.
"I'm genius."
"I'm genius."
"I'm genius."
I swear, if she says that to me one more time, I'm gonna have to shoot her!!!

I know the kid can't speak English, but you don't see me going around saying, "Soy bonita." or "Sono simpatica."

"i'm genius"... no, you're not... "you fob."

puhaha...

2005-10-20T19:10:00.000-07:00

When was the last time any of you laughed so hard you thought you'd pee your pants???
I haven't had one of those moments in ages.
hahaha... pee your pants... that's funny.
Good times.

You know what never fails to make me smile/laugh?
Well, there are a few things (not in a particuar order):

1) During the 2002 World Cup, my mom, dad, Eugene, and I went to a Korean community center to watch the game with about 80 other Koreans. Well, some folks were giving out the "Be the Reds" t-shirts for all of us to wear while the Koreans did their thang, and when I looked over at my dad, he's sporting his t-shirt... but instead of wearing the t-shirt under his thick, leather jacket, he's wearing the t-shirt OVER his thick, leather jacket!!!!
puahahahahahahahahahaha. He's crazy. He kills me!!! hahahahahaha. Can you imagine a 50-something year old man, walking around a crowded room, wearing a bright red t-shirt on top of a leather jacket???... the t-shirt looking all sorts of bulky with the leather sleeves sticking out. puahaha!!!

Daaaaaeeeeeeeeeeee-Han-Min-Gook...

2) This one time I was shopping with my brother, and he was so amazed by how cheap everything was, that he yelled, "WOW!"... but as he made this exclamation, his gum came rolling off of his tongue and onto the floor. puahahaha.

3) "And he us asked us, 'are ye angels?' And we said, 'nay! we are but men.' Rock!" -Tenacious D

4) "Sweetheart, da-da-da-da-da..." - Daddy Chang

5) Thinking about someone tripping and falling on the floor. It's even funnier if they are carrying books and wearing a backpack. Wait, wait wait, carrying books, wearing a backpack, and tripping on the very top stair of a staircase. Ooh, so close...

Leave me alone...

2005-10-19T23:25:00.000-07:00

This whole "blog" thing still has me a little confused.
Most times, I don't know what I should write or who I should be writing to...
Should I write about my day? about my life? about my deepest thoughts? to myself? to my friends? to strangers?
It's so annoying...
I'm not an extroverted person, so to keep up a blog kinda makes me anxious.
No, I don't need zoloft or paxil or ginko or whatever people with anxiety attacks take... I'm not that mental... but since I'm a pretty closed-off person, it feels weird to broadcast things on the internet... the most public thing in the world.
I don't enjoy telling people about myself.
I thought that Korea would be perfect for me because I wouldn't know anyone and since I speak English, not Korean, people would leave me alone.
Unfortunately, I was wrong.
I'm constantly bombarded by people who want to befriend me.
At school, the kids treat me like a star...
Even now, there are tons of kids looking over my shoulder, trying to read what I am writing...
The teachers always want to know about my day-to-day life and take me out...
At church, they want me to teach English to the kiddies...
If only people knew how much I want to be left alone.
I hate making new friends.
The awkward silences, the small talk, the courtesy-laughs, the questions...
I have my friends and I don't want anymore.
In the States, I had 6 girlfriends (and their boys), several church friends, and mia famiglia.
In Korea, I have several friends and family.
It confuses a lot people when I tell them that I don't want to go out or that I don't want to keep in touch...
"can you go out this weekend?" (no, i can't)
"do you want to have dinner next week?" (no, i don't)
"do you still talk to any of the people you met during orientation?" (nope)
Why is it so confusing?
If you are not a friend, then I don't want to spend time with you.
Period.
"But, Jane, how can you create long-lasting friendships when you don't want to meet new people? Strangers are friends you just haven't met."
See, but that's just it.
I don't want new or more friends.
It's not like I won't talk to people or I won't go out or I won't socialize, it's just that I would prefer not to.
If anyone out there is reading this, please try to understand.

fobs...

2005-10-17T23:31:00.000-07:00

I just finished a class and I'm about to run off to my next one, but before I do, I wanted to share a funny story...
In the class I just came from, we were playing my jacked-up version of Taboo and the word that the students had to guess was "farm."
Well, I had a boy come up in front of the class and try to give the clues, but I guess he misread the word, because his clue was, "where are you...?"
puhahahahha!!!
Get it?
He thought the word was "from," not "farm."

Is it mean that I keep clowning on all of my students?
It's not just me who's making fun... all of his classmates were teasing him too...
They were like, "Hahaha. Where are you 'farm?'"
See?
I'm not the only immature one in this school.
I know, I know, I'm the teacher... blah, blah, blah...

i love math... well...

2005-10-10T16:40:00.000-07:00

I'm reading my little sister's blog, right?
You know, just reading over some of her entries and some of the comments people have written... and by "people" I mean my brother.
As I let out the occasional chuckle, I can't help but wonder why the literary gene skipped over me.
Eugene, Jamie, and Cheddie all majored or minored or whatever in English... but what about Jane?

Is it because I was the only "early-bird"?
Is it because I was electrocuted as a wee lass? (as I like to remind Mommy every now and then.)
Is it because I'm the middle-child?

No, none of those are convincing enough.
Well, the electrocuted thing sounds pretty good...

I always like to tell myself- and others- that I am not an "English" person.
Rather, I am a "Math/Science" person.
That's right, math and science...
I know my times-tables and square roots.
I know my mitosis-cycles and ribosomes.
Because I'm a math and science girl.
I may not be able to spell or write, but who needs words when you can have numbers?

But, I'll be honest...
When I said I'm a "math/science" person, I really meant "math."
I seriously suck at the sciences.
Almost as much as I suck at English.
(speaking about sucking in english, do you guys like how I don't always capitalize subjects?)

But, you know what's sad?
I'm not even great at math.
I used to make up my own theorems when working on proofs (Go "given!" Go "reflexive!") , it took me 3 tries to finally pass calculus, and I've forgotten just about everything else.

So, what's the point of all of this?
I'm not even sure, myself.
There is no moral to this tale.
Oh, no wait, I got one:

Moral: When you suck at something, just lie and hope that no one finds out. Oh, and don't write an entry in your blog about it either... that'll totally blow your cover.

sucks to mondays...

2005-10-10T00:24:00.000-07:00

it's monday...
i'm tired...
i gave a billion students the evil-eye to make them shut up...
i took away a cell phone (but eventually gave it back. although, thinking back, i should have kept it because it's hell of a lot better than mine. well, maybe not hell of a lot, but a lot.)...
this new teacher keeps trying to give me new material to teach, and i'm not at all interested...
my eyes hurt because of my contacts...
i'm drinking grape juice that's a little too tannic (sp???), leaving my tongue feeling dry...
i can go home now, but i have my daily routine of cooking dinner to look forward to...
and when you can't cook, it's not fun...
and when you have no ingredients to cook with, it's even less fun...

on the upside, my monday is done.
tomorrow is tuesday.
that's one day closer to friday.
that's one day closer to freedom.
i just have to take it by-day-by.
puahahahahahahahahahaha.

oh, what a guy, that Gaston...

2005-10-07T00:12:00.000-07:00

So, I'm just sitting at my desk, right?... checking emails, listening to npr, picking at something stuck in my teeth with my tongue, when all of a sudden, I say to myself, "the wheels are always turning..."
Meaning, I'm always thinking... duh.

Now, don't ask me why I said that to myself... maybe I was giving myself a pep talk, who knows...
That doesn't matter, it's besides the point.
What I want to know is, who can tell me where I got that from... "the wheels are turning?"

Give up?
Beauty and the Beast!!!
Don't you remember when Gaston is plotting something crazy in the pub, and he sings, "the wheels in my head have be turning..."
and his sidekick (Apu, is it... or is that the monkey from Aladdin?) says, "a horrible passtime..."
Gaston continues, "I know..."

You remember that?
Oh, that Gaston...
I liked that guy.
If you think of it, he wasn't really a bad person.
A little obsessed with Belle, but, who wouldn't be?
I mean, come on... her name means Beauty!!!
Who wouldn't be captivated by her?!?!
I know he set out to kill the Beast and all, but it's kinda understandable... the Beast is a big and hairy and unhuman (maybe, even a little unanimal, right Ched?).
Gaston didn't know that it was a bratty prince who got turned into a lion-y creature.
Shoot, I'd probably be cheering Gaston on- "Kill the Beast. Kill the Beast..."
hahaha... that kinda sounds Lord of the Flies-ish, doesn't it?
Sucks to as-mar.

the things i miss...

2005-10-06T23:11:00.000-07:00

You know, Korea is so much like America, that I can't say I've ever been homesick since my arrival.
Sure, there are some differences: Korea is hella stinky, people don't follow traffic rules, everyone speaks Korean...
But, everything I want, Korea has: Dove soap, delicious ice cream, alcohol (puahaha).
Yet, no matter how much like America Korea has become, there are some things that I miss dearly...
1) burritos... need I say more?
2) The Simpsons... kinda ironic, considering the fact that it's drawn here... or it is?
3) Theremasilk... I love the smell
4) Silk... as in, chocolate soy milk, not the wonderfully smooth thread that comes out of a bug's arse.
5) KQED... oh, kqed
6) Q-tip brand q-tips... it's like swabbing my ears with a cloud on a stick... the q-tips here are like swabbing my ears with chopsticks! Not fun... not fun at all.
7) driving... I just like to drive and drive fast. I can't do that here.
8) shopping... it's been a while since I've been shopping for clothes.

There are more, of course, like family, friends, blah blah blah...
No, really, I miss you all the most...

day 2 with nothing to do...

2005-10-04T23:09:00.000-07:00

Today is the 2nd day of tests, so I have nothing to do again.
It's really nice to be able to chill, but it makes me really tired to just sit here and try to find ways to keep myself busy.
All the students left around noon, so after lunch, 2 other teachers and I left campus and went shopping!!!
hahahaha.
I needed to buy gifts for my family, so those 2 teachers said that we should just cut out for a couple of hours!
As we were shopping, we ran into several students, and they didn't even care.
All of them acted as if this happens everyday.

Sooooooo tired...................................

yes... no classes!!!

2005-10-03T19:20:00.000-07:00

Today, tomorrow, and Thursday, I have absolutely nothing to do.
The students have their midterms this week, so I have no classes to teach.
whoo hoo.
All the other teachers have to watch over the classes, you know, to make sure there aren't any wandering eyes, but since I'm the new, English-speaking teacher, I can just chill.
In some ways, it's nice being new and not being able to speak Korean, because everyone's expectations of me are really low.
Like, if I was fluent in Korean, I bet that I would be up in one of the classrooms with my ruler to open a can of whoop-a on the first student I see cheating.
Hahahaha.

Speaking of whipping some "a," the other day, one of my co-teachers hecka hit some of the students.
I was in the classroom teaching the poor students what little English I know, when "smack, smack, smack, smack."
Four kids got hit in the hall for being late to class.
Yup, Korea still allows teachers to hit their students.
It's funny because you'll see the teachers walking to class carrying their beating stick...
A lot of teachers don't actually use it, it's more for intimidation, but it still kills me.
No one cares if a student gets hurt.

Last week, there was a student who was being bad or something, so the teacher had him stand up and she grabbed his shoulders and shook him.
As the boy was being shaken, like a present on Christmas morning, he lost his energy and fell down, but, along the way, hit his head on the desk.
He then went to the principal to complain, saying that he was being abused and that the teachers hit too hard, but the prinicpal didn't even care.
The teacher was told not to do it again (but those are just words) and that was the end of it.
As a side note, the teacher claims she didn't shake him very hard and that he is a very naughty boy.
hahahaha.
I swear, these Koreans kill me sometimes.

See, another update...

2005-09-28T20:09:00.000-07:00

Wow, this is my 2nd entry this week.
I'm so good.
I 'm currently correcting some papers that I had the students fill out for me.
One student wrote:
"My favorite subject is English because I like A, B, C, D." puhahahahaha.
Another student wrote:
"I like listen to music, my favorite music is drama, and sometimes listen to pop and j-pop and I like all things."

It's no wonder that Korean stationery is so fobby.
Although, I shouldn't be one to clown because my English skills are probably one level above theirs. puahahahaha.
Plus, it's not like I'm great a Korean or anything.

On not-so-related news, the weather is getting cooler and cooler.
I can actually wear long sleeves and jeans.
A month ago, the thought wouldn't of have even crossed my mind.
Oh, I love the Fall... or as the students here would say, "Farl."
hahahaha.
Koreans can't pronounce "Ll."

I'm gonna cut this short.
I have back to back classes, so I don't have time for such nonsense... :-P

i'm bored...

2005-09-26T00:10:00.000-07:00

Due to popular demand, I have decided to update my blog with another entry.
You're welcome!!!

There has been so much that has happened since I last wrote in this damn blog that I'm not even going to bother telling you all about it.
Besides, since I haven't updated this thing for like a month, I'm sure I'm my only audience now... so it doesn't really matter whether or not I fill myself in all in with the nitty-gritties.

Oh my gosh, I'm serioiusly boring myself to tears right now.
I've only written 2-ish paragraphs and I'm about to fall asleep.
I wish I had a hilarious story that I could share with you all...
Hmmm... I'm sure I can come up with one if you just let me think for a little while.
Oh, I know one.
No, wait... it's not that funny after all.
Forget it.
This sucks.
I'm about to go home soon, so I'm going to stop here,
I'll try to update this tomorrow or something.
But, I'm not going to try very hard... as a matter of fact, I'm not going to try at all.
If I remember, I will, but I have a terrible memory, so the chances are slim.
Look at me, writing as if people actually care that I update this thing.
How self-absorbed...
See what these damn blogs can do to a person???
Do you seeeeee?

I want a burrito...

2005-08-07T17:13:00.000-07:00

I love Korean food, but I could really go for a burrito right about now. Yummy. Burritos are delicious. Burritos are definately on my top 10 list of favorite foods. I've only seen one Mexican restaurant so far. When we passed by it, I said, "Ooh, Mexican food. Yum..." I said pretty slow and loud to make it really clear what I was saying. I immediately looked over to my cousin, who was driving, to see if he got the hint. I guess I didn't speak slowly or loudly enough, because he just kept on driving. I felt so defeated.

Enough about burritos... I'm just hungry right now... I have an important announcement to make: I'm not sweating right now!!! Yesterday was a whole other story. I was chillin' outside on a stairway, chit-chatting with Cheddie, eating a popsicle, and all the while beads of sweat were dripping all over my face!!! They were have a race on my face!!! I wasn't even that hot... I was eating a popsicle for heavens sake!!! I amaze myself.

Stupid Korean Lady...

2005-08-02T16:31:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, Jamie, Cheddie, Ji-Youn, and I went shopping in an area called Mi-Gum. On our way back to the subway, we had to cross a really busy intersection and across the way I could see and hear this little girl crying like a madman.

Oh man, I am dripping with sweat right now. I'm so hot. Kill me now.

As we crossed the street we realized the girl was all alone!!! She wanted to cross the street, but she was too scared or something, so she just kept on crying and pointing and saying "mommy." It was pretty strange because we were in the middle of such a busy area, yet no one stopped to help this poor thing. So, dun, dun, dun, duhhhhhh... my sisters, cousin, and I came to the rescue.

We asked her where her mom was and we held her hand to calm her down. She kept pointing across the street, so that's where we started walking.

Yay, Cheddie turned on a fan, I'm not so hot anymore.

Once we reached the other side of this street, this lady came over to us and was like, "where were you (to the girl)? where was she (to us)?" But, she wasn't panicked or worried or happy or anything. She didn't even seem to care that her daughter was lost in the middle of a crazy intersection or that a stranger (me) was carrying her across the street. What the heck? Stupid Korean lady.

Shut up, Meh-mee's...

2005-08-01T16:17:00.000-07:00

Well, it's around 8:30am... I've been awake for around 2 hours. I guess I'm kinda jet lagged. So far, I've been sweating non-stop. For real. Even in the air-conditioned buildings, I'm still sweating. My poor body. I think Djana and Eric can feel me on this one.

Yesterday, I went to my aunt's house. Apparently, my uncle is a pretty famous artist, so they have a hecka nice house. Hmmm... I was going to start describing just how nice it is, but I'm too damn hot to think. Besides, this uncle doesn't even feel like family. I don't want to waste any more time thinking about him.

Man, blogs are so boring. I dread having to post things up here every couple of days. It's so stupid. I hardly even told anyone I have this thing. It's really weird because I want lots of people to know I have a blog, yet, at the same time I don't want anyone to read it. I'm basically letting the whole world read my diary if they wanted to. It's not like I'm putting anything too personal up here, but I still. It's crazy.

The meh-mee's are so loud here... umm, meh-mee's are these bugs that make a really loud rattling noise. There's a name for them in English, but I don't know how to spell it and this thing isn't allowing me to use spell-check, so just take my word for it. All day long, everywhere you go, you can hear them, but you can't see them anywhere. Sneaky little boogers. Not only are they sneaky, but they're ugly as hell. If you're lucky enough to finally spot one, you'll probably run away, screaming like a little girl. Oh, yes, like a little girl.

The sound of meh-mee's will always remind me of Korea. You want to know what else will always remind me of Korea? The smell of sewage. Yup, that's right, sewage. There's nothing like the smell of crap and polution to bring back fond memories of Korea. hahahaha. You know, New York has meh-mee's and the sewage smell I'm talking about. I guess NY is the American Seoul... it's probably because they have the same summer weather... hot, humid, muggy...

Oh, I'm going to get a cell phone soon. I'll email it out to some of you guys soon, okay? My hecka, hecka nice aunt (not the one married to the artist) is going to take me to the cell phone shop today.

One more thing before I leave... that aunt of mine who is married to that one dude (ugh, the "artist) said that I look like her!!! How dare she compare herself to me. Shoot. Don't flatter yourself, lady. Hey, Mommy, I say you give her a call and tell her that I look like you and Daddy. Okay? Thanks. I don't know why I'm so bitter... she's a nice person and all. Whatever. I guess she wants someone to look like her because relatively ugly daughter looks like her husband. puahahahahahaha. I'm so mean. But, what you call "mean," I call "the truth." Puahahahahaha.

Korea...

2005-07-31T18:01:00.000-07:00

It's is hecka hot and humid here.
Geez, I wanna die!!! hahahaha.
FYI, I'm not going to let anyone post comments here anymore... it's making me feel strange for some reason.
Just email me people.

Dun, Dun, Dannn... hahaha...

2005-07-29T09:34:00.000-07:00

Well, today is the day. I'm leaving in a couple of hours. I kinda felt like throwing-up this morning. It's the anxiety, I guess. Hmmm... Mommy already left for work... Daddy is talking to Sam-Chon (that means "uncle" for all you non-Koreans)... Cheddie is still sleeping... and I'm typing up my boring, random thoughts into this blog.

Blogs are weird. It's like, who am I speaking to? Am I supposed to be writing as if I was writing to myself? Or maybe I supposed to be writing to an audience? I don't know. What I do know is that if anyone is reading this, they must be, 1) at work, trying to kill time, 2) bored out of their minds, 3) wondering why I even decided to start a blog.

Doesn't anyone find it strange that I am posting my comments, opinions, and stories on the internet for any random person to read? Not only that, but I'm writing all this knowing full well that people are going to read it later. It feels a little phony. I feel like I'm forced to entertain the 1 or 2 people who happen to stumble across this mess... and I'm secretly hoping that they'll return and post some nice comments and perhaps tell their friends what a cool person this "catcher in the rice" is. puahahahahha.

Speaking of "catcher in the rice," that's a pretty clever play on words, huh? I think so. I mean, I'm not azn pride (barf), but I do love my rice... and I do love The Catcher In The Rye.

Oh, one more thing about blogs... I basically putting on display my terrible grammar skills. It makes me a little paranoid to tell you the truth. I received an "F" on multiple grammar tests my sophomore year in high school. It's true... you can even ask my teacher... Ms. Nieman. So please excuse me. Oh those poor Korean kids... I'm going to screw them over.

Anyways, I'm glad I got to see a few of my friends last night. Some people I've known for hecka, hecka long (OJ, Chris, Butch, Wilson), really long (Mike... aka Pho-bee, Fernando), for a while (Eric, Javier, Vicki), but most importantly, I got to see my girls (Jilly, Leighita, Bre... Avril, Vee, sorry I couldn't catch you... Djana, you don't really count. hahaha). I hardly know some of these people, but I'll miss everyone... but not that much because I'll be back soon. Right? Oh, girls, if you ever find yourselves missing me too much, then just think of that night at Clear Lake and you'll find you don't miss me that much anymore (you know, when you guys thought my friendship with Vee was coming to an end???)!!! PPUHAHAHHAHAHA. I'd stop missing myself! hahahaha. Go Supremes!!!

To the future Mr. & Mrs. Reloba...

2005-07-24T18:32:00.000-07:00

I love you guys!!! Congrats!!!!!! :)
Eric, I know this picture is pretty whack, but it's the only one I had of the 2 of you... besides, I asked whether or not you wanted me to take the picture.

7 Days...

2005-07-22T11:32:00.000-07:00

7 more days and I'll be standing in line at SFO.

I am looking forward to it being a "Chang" event- Mommy and Daddy will find something to complain (aka yell) about... Jamie will calmly, but sternly, yell back at them, grateful for the fact that she no longer calls Callan her home (or at least doesn't have to)... Cheddie will undoubtedly have her crooked face on, complaining about everything... Eugene, sitting in class all the way in Shanghai, will feel the "Chang" vibes and will begin convulsing uncontrollably (do the robot, do the robot. DAIIIII!!!) ... and, finally, I will be sitting there watching this all happen, proud that my family gave me a send-off the only way they know how, a send-off only a true Chang can give, and even prouder that I was probably the one who triggered each and every one of their bad moods!!! Oh, yeah (say it like the Duff-man)!!!

Talk about anger management issues, huh??? puahahaha!!!