Kimchi, not for me

I applied to grad school this week. Isn't it funny that dropping my food processor into the toilet somehow managed to win out over that little tidbit of information? I just didn't think to share it until just now. I'm taking the long-delayed plunge and applying to the modular MA program in Apologetics at Biola. Rickie is in that program, as is (was?) Dr. Rathel at school. I actually first found out about the program from Dr. Rathel. Anyway, I completed my application online today. I also filled out my renewal FAFSA online today at work. And with that said, let me tell you that I feel totally unprepared. I'm concerned that I lack the mental capabilities to do well in this program. One of the top things I've realized over the past year is that I'm not so smart. Perhaps it's more appropriate to say that I've realized that there are many different kinds of intelligence, and I'm sure that this Apologetics program would challenge me in ways that would be very good for me, and exciting, but also scary. With challenges comes the potential to absolutely fail. And that's just scary. I've been browsing a lot at monergism.com as of late, and just read an article last night about presuppositional apologetics. I didn't even know what exactly that was referring to until last night. It seems like particularly since I've been in Korea, mentally I've been losing any sharpness I had left. I'm making an active decision to read more, on a wide variety of subjects, in order to at least attempt to wake my brain up. I think one of my biggest intellectual weaknesses is in the critical thinking department. A perfect illustration of this can be seen when I study eschatology. I studied partial preterism my last semester at BCF and felt fairly convinced of that (though partial preterism seems to be primarily a rejection of dispensational premillennialism, it leaves open the millennium question - I think). I borrowed a book from the missions intern at church entitled "Progressive Dispensationalism" and was stunned to realize that everything I read was what I believed. Now I'm trying to study covenant theology, but I just get discouraged. Anyway, that's all. Just wanted to give the update.

I somehow forgot to mention the elephant stampede that happened here in Seoul sometime last week (or was it the week before? I forget). I actually only found out about it through my sister. Tonight we were talking about hiking, and this is where the conversation went:

LdyLeaess: you can mosey in the city
LdyLeaess: as long as you're not run over by stampeding elephants or anything
teresalynntucker: I'd rather not
LdyLeaess: that would be more like RUNNING
teresalynntucker: nobody else knew about that
teresalynntucker: I felt in the know
teresalynntucker: then they asked me how I knew
LdyLeaess: LOL
LdyLeaess: MY sister (in the states) told me
teresalynntucker: and I was all sheepish, "Err...my sister told me about it."
LdyLeaess: that's too funny
teresalynntucker: Your sister where?
teresalynntucker: yeah...I'm a dork
LdyLeaess: HA
LdyLeaess: somewhere over here a herd of BUFFALO got loose
LdyLeaess: ended up in some high end neighborhood's tennis courts
teresalynntucker: ha!
teresalynntucker: double ha!
teresalynntucker: that's quite funny
LdyLeaess: hee hee
LdyLeaess: gated community my (censored)
teresalynntucker: if a herd of BUFFALO can get in
teresalynntucker: hire new security
LdyLeaess: HEE
LdyLeaess: that's great
LdyLeaess: that'll be some company's new slogan
LdyLeaess: "Buffalo Security"
teresalynntucker: ha again!
LdyLeaess: they'd all have to wear hats with horns
LdyLeaess: but you'd know they're not vikings because they wouldn't have braids
LdyLeaess: that's a different company altogether

I was SO excited about it. Now, one of two things have happened. Either I'm ignorant of how to use said food processor, or it's one of the most disappointing purchases I've ever made. I was particularly looking forward to doing less chopping of veggies and such. So far, every vegetable I have put into the thing has turned into a watery mushy near-soup puddle. I've tried putting a lot in, I've tried putting in just a little. Onions are the only thing it's really useful for. After a successful processing experience with the onions, I thought I'd try to chop up the rest of the orange and red peppers I had. Disgusting, soupy mush worthy only of the garbage. Have I told you how garbage works here? There's no tax for garbage collection, instead, you have to buy these special garbage bags (which are, necessarily, rather expensive). Recycling is huge here, which is a very good thing. And there's a blue garbage can outside for food waste. So the only thing that goes in the expensive garbage bags is really paper waste. Okay, so I knew if I poured the watery pepper-goo into a bag to carry down to the food waste can, it would leak all the way down the stairs. So, I threw into the toilet - a common move for small pieces of food waste. I forgot about the removable blade in the processor bowl, and it fell right out and into the toilet. Thank you very much. Worse still, I had to stick my hand in, amidst the pepper goo, and fish around for the blade - which is not smart considering how sharp the thing is (I've cut myself on it at least three times already). All's well that ends well - washed it with antibacterial soap in scalding water and then stuck it in boiling water just to be safe. But still, when I do things like that (as I do every day, to varying degrees) I just wonder, "Who let me try to be an adult?"

Dr. Lee's funeral will be today in Graceville. I took the news of his death rather hard, even though I had been warned about it. He was an amazing professor who taught in an unforgettable way. I've been upset about it - obviously he's at home now, so I suppose it's a selfish kind of upset. He was always remarkably kind and warm, and being involved in the lives of his students. We discussed him being my surrogate grandfather. When he found out my mom had passed away, he kissed me on the forehead with tears in his eyes. I wrote my first sermon in one of his classes. I learned to love and appreciate the OT in his classes.

And so goes the story of countless BBI/FBTC/BCF students. I suppose I'm sad for all of us who no longer get to enjoy him and learn from him.

And I'm very homesick as well - I'm sad that I'm missing his funeral. I'm sad that I missed my niece's 3rd birthday party (which, incidentally, is the third birthday party in a row of hers that I've not been present at). Mother's day makes me sad. I'm sad that I won't be able to see my family and close friends until next January at the earliest. I hope it passes. I'm not so sure that it will at this point. I would stand for it just lessening at this point.

I found this website that translates your web page (or any other web page, for that matter) into different dialects. Some choices are redneck, jive, brooklyn, pansy, and chef (as in the swedish chef from the muppets). Thinking of my love for all things Muppet, I figured the chef would be my favorite. However, my favorite, by far, is the pirate dialect. And below is the previous post (the poop post), in pirate-ese.

Incidentally, on the menu, my sister's name was "Wench Leaess." Ha!
And Rickie's link was "A Lad and His Soapbox"

Translation:

A Day o' Firsts
Here's a few o' th' "firsts" from t'day
Me first visit t' a Korean ER
Th' first time I've thought, I'll warrant ye, "Oh, aye, so THIS will be me most embarrassing moment!"

Okay, aye, so only two firsts, I'll warrant ye. But still. Such an embarrassing day, by Davy Jones's locker. I were bein' sick, and th' embarrassing part came in attempting t' explain th' various symptoms o' me sickness t' landlubbers who don't know very much English, I'll warrant ye. I don't want t' be gross or graphic (I've had t' be that most o' th' day, I'll warrant ye, I'm a little tired o' it), but I'll give ye a brief window into me conversation with me admiral this afternoon.

Setting: I'm doubled o'er on th' chair in front o' me computer, aye, having severe abdominal cramps, I'll warrant ye. Me admiral, and three Korean teachers are huddled aroun' me. Donovan is sitting on his chair two-ish feet away, by Davy Jones's locker. Jason is behind th' partition in front o' Donovan. There are various other landlubbers milling about, I'll warrant ye.

Me admiral: "When did ye take th' medicine from Kylie?"

Me: "Just a few minutes ago - groan - I'm still very sick. And swab the deck!"

Me admiral: "What were bein' it fer?"

Me: (having lost dignity previously...progressed t' as-tactful-as-possible bluntness) "It's t' help ye stop pooping, I'll warrant ye."

Me admiral: "Poop, I'll warrant ye, poop, aye, poop, poop...." (Said while tapping that comely wench chin and staring off in space - that winsome lass doesn't know this word and is trying t' jog that comely wench memory, by Davy Jones's locker.)

Me admiral: "Songsangnim, arrrr, blahblahblah poop?" (Songsangnim = teacher, arrrr, blahblahblah = Korean I don't know)

At this point Jason speaks up and says, "DUNG." This word works in both languages. All th' Koreans in th' room give a little gasp, nod their heads in unison, and say, "Ahhhh."

Me admiral: "Okay, hospital."

Not sure if I've already mentioned this or not, arrrr, but hospital=doctor's office here, ye scurvey dog. So I went t' th' hospital with me admiral - almost just went with th' helpful male, by Blackbeard's sword, but someone wisely changed that plan. That ornery cuss drove us. But nay, we went t' a real hospital, ye scurvey dog. T' an emergency room, to be sure, even. I were bein' not that sick, ye scurvey dog. But t' protest would have been far more difficult and required more energy than I had. I have medicine. And Korean "cures, by Blackbeard's sword," - like drink only boiled water - though many landlubbers t'ld me this, arrrr, it switched from "boil it first, aye," to "drink it warm" more than once, so I'm still kinda at a loss. Also, nay cold water and nay soda. When we got back, me admiral talked t' that comely wench mother (th' owner o' th' school) who talked t' th' ajuma (cook, aye, in this case) and had that comely wench make me some rice porridge. Again, by Blackbeard's sword, Melissa - th' hero, th' saint, to be sure, that that winsome lass is - not only went downstairs with me t' face th' dreaded rice porridge music, to be sure, but convinced me admiral that I needed t' eat it upstairs t' I could finish preparing fer me next class, to be sure, and then ate more than half o' it fer me. I tell ye...a true matey.
That's me day. Hope I didn't gross ye out too badly, ye scurvey dog. I assure ye, it were bein' much worse than that, by Blackbeard's sword, though. Oy.

Isn't it hilarious?!?!

Here's a few of the "firsts" from today

• My first visit to a Korean ER
• The first time I've thought, "Oh, so THIS will be my most embarrassing moment!"

Okay, so only two firsts. But still. Such an embarrassing day. I was sick, and the embarrassing part came in attempting to explain the various symptoms of my sickness to people who don't know very much English. I don't want to be gross or graphic (I've had to be that most of the day, I'm a little tired of it), but I'll give you a brief window into my conversation with my boss this afternoon.

Setting: I'm doubled over on the chair in front of my computer, having severe abdominal cramps. My boss, and three Korean teachers are huddled around me. Donovan is sitting on his chair two-ish feet away. Jason is behind the partition in front of Donovan. There are various other people milling about.

My boss: "When did you take the medicine from Kylie?"

Me: "Just a few minutes ago - groan - I'm still very sick."

My boss: "What was it for?"

Me: (having lost dignity previously...progressed to as-tactful-as-possible bluntness) "It's to help you stop pooping."

My boss: "Poop, poop, poop, poop...." (Said while tapping her chin and staring off in space - she doesn't know this word and is trying to jog her memory.)

My boss: "Songsangnim, blahblahblah poop?" (Songsangnim = teacher, blahblahblah = Korean I don't know)

At this point Jason speaks up and says, "DUNG." This word works in both languages. All the Koreans in the room give a little gasp, nod their heads in unison, and say, "Ahhhh."

My boss: "Okay, hospital."

Not sure if I've already mentioned this or not, but hospital=doctor's office here. So I went to the hospital with my boss - almost just went with the helpful male, but someone wisely changed that plan. He drove us. But no, we went to a real hospital. To an emergency room, even. I was not that sick. But to protest would have been far more difficult and required more energy than I had. I have medicine. And Korean "cures," - like drink only boiled water - though many people told me this, it switched from "boil it first," to "drink it warm" more than once, so I'm still kinda at a loss. Also, no cold water and no soda. When we got back, my boss talked to her mother (the owner of the school) who talked to the ajuma (cook, in this case) and had her make me some rice porridge. Again, Melissa - the hero, the saint, that she is - not only went downstairs with me to face the dreaded rice porridge music, but convinced my boss that I needed to eat it upstairs to I could finish preparing for my next class, and then ate more than half of it for me. I tell you...a true friend.

That's my day. Hope I didn't gross you out too badly. I assure you, it was much worse than that, though. Oy.

Thank you for sharing - I'm an idiot though, and posted my semi-pathetic plea for opinions on the wrong post. What I really am most curious to hear opinions on is about the idea of living in the world and finding sin foreign and offensive. The thing Scougal said, which I've yet to locate so I can share, reminded me of how I viewed the dog market. But at this point my thoughts are so muddled, and the whole thing is just sort of over, so I'm going to move on.

A very important announcement - today (at this moment in Korea AND the States) it is dear, wonderful, fabulous Haley's birthday. Happy Birthday Haley! I called her this morning before school and talked to her for less than five minutes - the quick and cheesy "It's your birthday already in Korea!" thing. (Though technically not.)

So there seems to be this phenomenon called by a variety of names - yellow dust, yellow sand, China dust, etc. I've yet to really get to the bottom of it - I do know that it is dust from China (hence the name). Not pollen, I don't think - if I understand correctly, and I'm nearly certain I don't. Anyway, everyone is supposed to wear the not-surgical-masks-but-similar things tomorrow. Kylie and Donovan had to get masks because they've both been pretty sick, and their doctors made them. I suppose this just shows my pride, cause it'll take me being pretty sick to put one of those on. Lots of people around here wear them though, and the pollution here is pretty bad - very smogy.

Have you ever had a really clear picture (of the mental sort) of yourself at a time when you knew that you just looked entirely ridiculous? I could go on and elaborate about the feelings of foolishness, but I'm sure you get my point. Well, I have been feeling like that lately. It's only now warm enough to wear short-sleeved shirts at work without a jacket, and so covering my tattoos has only now become an issue. The method of choice has been these delightful pink wristbands that Melissa brought for me when she came over (so nice of her). The first day, a few of my students asked me questions about them, and I think one or two might have even laughed at me. But now it's just a given - I wear wristbands. I have to keep up the "wristbands are cool" facade in the classroom, or else my students (the younger ones climb all over me like a jungle gym) would pull them off in a heartbeat, but I still feel pretty dumb. I only have the one pair right now, but luckily I've found them at a few stores around here. Sadly, it'll probably get to the point where they are color-coordinated. But you gotta do what you gotta do. That's all. I'm tired - Melissa and I had dinner together in her apartment tonight and then had a ridiculously fun time playing with make-up. It sound silly, and it was towards the end. We took a few pictures. Not sure if any of them are blog-sharing material, but you'll know if they are. I feel like I'm making no sense at all tonight. I need sleep. Good night.

and that ain't steak. (credit)

I do understand that my reaction to what I saw is based on my cultural biases - I'm not making a value judgment about eating dog meat. It's appalling to me - but I'm not saying it's wrong. Hope this picture doesn't offend anyone...let me know if it does and I'll remove it.

The market was:

horrible, abhorrent, abominable, appalling, awful, beastly, cruel, detestable, disagreeable, disgusting, dreadful, eerie, execrable, frightful, ghastly, grim, grisly, gruesome, heinous, hideous, horrendous, horrid, loathsome, lousy, lurid, nasty, obnoxious, offensive, repellent, repulsive, revolting, scandalous, scary, shameful, shocking, sickie, and terrible.

I got no kitten. I did almost vomit. I also cursed at a complete stranger. I'm not trying to be dramatic - seriously folks, this was just nearly obscene. I didn't take pictures - didn't have a camera - but wouldn't have anyway, because that would've required me to stop. When my stomach is slightly stronger I'll put a link to pictures that show what it was like. It's mostly cultural - seeing cats and dogs as I did today was foreign to me because I grew up in a culture where they were treated as pets, not livestock. I thought I had learned much about other cultures and was doing well at adjusting, but seeing as how I'm such a dog person, the challenge to my preconceived notions about dogs today - it shook me. It's the first time I've thought to myself, "That is just wrong." about another culture. Basically everything else has struck me as basically different, and occasionally uncomfortable. But not this.

This reminds me of something Henry Scougal says in his book that I love about how the Christian should be transformed to the likeness of God so that vileness (in the moral sense, not talking about dogs anymore) strikes him (the Christian) as foreign and vile, much like I found the dog market today? Do you think it's possible? How does that relate to living in the world - is that what is meant by the "not of" part? It's a real question...I'd love some actual feedback as to what you think the answer is.

(FYI, they say the dogs for eating are all one breed, and I saw mostly the same kind (mixed breed). However, I also saw an entire cage of Irish Setters. They probably weren't pedigree, but had to have been close.)

I'm thinking about getting a kitten. I suppose at this point it's progressed a bit beyond just thinking. Kylie and I are going to look for one today. It all depends on the cost really, at this point. The thing is, cats are really not popular in Korean culture. I've only seen one or two feral cats since I got here (which, as I mentioned before, is a huge switch from Israel). Anyway, the place we're going to have to go to look for a kitten is Moran market. It's one of the few large scale animal markets. And they're not selling all these animals for pets. The thing that makes me the most nervous is that this place is I think one of the biggest (if not THE biggest) seller of dogs for dog meat. Before I came I knew that Koreans eat dog meat. But everyone has assured me that it's a specific breed of dog bred for eating. However, the pictures I just saw online seem to contradict this. I'm not sure how well I'll handle this. Kylie IS going with me - and I am depending on her to keep me from buying as many dogs as I can just to save them - which I don't think I would actually do, but when I'm there and see it - and the cases of refrigerated dog meat on the cages of the live dogs.... - shudder - not sure about the whole thing really.

A brief aside - in Ethics class at BCF, we had to pick an issue to write a paper about and debate with someone else in the class. I suggested animal rights, and Bethany and I were fortunate enough to be paired for the debate. The paper only had to be 10 pages, but with the appendices it ended up being 33 I think. (I know, I know.) I felt very strongly about it at the time. I noticed the change first after I had been in Israel for a few weeks or a month. Reading the newspaper there is enough to change one's perspective on such a matter. I found that the issue of animal responsibility (a term and perspective I preferred all along to the traditional "animal rights") had receded into the background of my mind. When there are such human rights violations abounding all around you - the separation wall, checkpoints, the West Bank and Gaza, the prejudice against Arabs, etc. the plight of animals is remarkably less important. I think it's ironic, and speaks much about the stubborn insistence of my heart to think only about what affects me directly or relates to my interests (the plight of dogs and cats sold for their meat) when actual human suffering - severe human suffering - is just a stone's throw away. The DMZ is 40 miles from Seoul. Pyongyang is 119 miles from Seoul. And still my heart is broken over dogs and cats being sold for food. The more I live, the the little I grow up, the more I become
of my appalling lack of perspective.

And it is on that, sad but eye-opening note, that I am going to go get ready to go to the market. I'll let you know how it goes.

Anyone else in love with the new "Recover post" button? Oh, it makes me VERY happy!

I'm at work right now, but I just wanted to post a few things of note:

• Wonderful, delightful, and pleasant Ellis has a blog! Check out "Where the living is easy" on the links.
• Rickie actually posted on his site! I mention it only because I so enjoy reading his thoughts. I think to myself, "If I had a brain like that, I'd feel it was my duty to share my thoughts often." Not that I want him to get a big head (though we seem to share a big head problem in so far as the forehead size goes), but I would be very happy if he posted more frequently.
• I went to the doctor for the first time here yesterday afternoon. One of my ears was hurting off and on for about a week, but it was "off" enough that I thought it wasn't a big deal. But yesterday it was "on" most all day. I went to a doctor Kylie had gone to that spoke English, and he looked in my ear with a camera, and I could see it on this screen. Like, the inside part that you never get to see - for good reason! I was thoroughly grossed out! Anyway, he cleaned out my ear - talking about a super q-tip I thought might come out of the other ear. He said it was starting to get infected, slathered the inside of my ear (nearly all the way to my brain) with antibiotic goo, and gave me a prescription. Might I add, that the visit (including the internal ear voyage, thermal therapy, and the antibiotic goo) cost 3,000 won (three dollars). The medicine cost 1,500 won (a buck fifty). And I do have insurance...but still. It's crazy.
• I found a vet for Daive that (kinda) speaks English. (Haley, you and I can relax now!) I took her there yesterday to get that nasty nail issue taken care of. It was absolutely hilarious though, because both the vet and the nurse seemed rather terrified of her. They put a muzzle on her (or rather, they wanted to, but I did it for them) and put an e-collar (lampshade looking thing) on her. I offered to restrain her myself - I had to do that at Banfield before, so I know how - and she's my dog, and I'm well aware of just how freaky she is. Anyway, they pulled off the deviant nail, put stuff on it to make it stop bleeding, and trimmed all of her nails - for three dollars. I was in heaven. They also do the teeth cleaning (which she needs in the near future) with the bloodwork before to make sure she's healthy enough internally to handle the anesthesia.
• I met the sweetest, most enjoyable little girl on my way to the doctor yesterday. She goes to English school (not the one I work at) and was speaking to me in English. It was thoroughly adorable, but I'll post about that later. Very cute - restored my faith in Korean children. (Aren't I awful?)

So yesterday was certainly a good day. And today will necessarily be a good day because it is Friday. Ah yes, if anyone has any idea how I can find out whether the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy will be playing in Seoul, please let me know. I've searched the internet, and had no luck so far. Those books are so far beyond hilarious. Anyway, must go now.

The recent story of the Nebraska man who auctioned off advertising space on his forehead is only the latest example of the commodification of everything. This story is not so much a lesson about greed—his forehead was apparently not big enough to garner bids for more than a few hundred dollars—as a statement about the extent to which we are able to become detached from even those things, like our foreheads, to which we are most obviously attached.


Mine's gotta be worth thousands! At least!

I watched Fight Club for the first time this past Saturday night. I found it interesting and filled with all kinds of good points and amazing lines - that is, until the end. Then it just REALLY freaked me out. I stayed awake for two hours afterwards because I knew if I went right to sleep I'd have had some disturbing dreams. Anyway, lots of great lines. Now that it's been a few days, I can't recall exactly what made me think of this, but I remember thinking during the movie, "I wouldn't mind marrying a farmer." I won't try to explain the connection because it's actually rather fuzzy in my own mind at this point. Anyway, I was just reading an article online, and found an article about consumerism and thought it had everything to do with where my brain was after watching Fight Club.

First, many people have become detached from their labor, seeing work not as a
creative vocation but as a commodity to be sold in exchange for wages.

I am having a difficult time expressing my thoughts, so I'm going to just publish this as is, and perhaps add more later.

Before I do that though, I have to tell you all about what I read on Christie's site this morning that truly just made my day. The (sadly) infamous authors of the Left Behind books blasted NBC's "Revelation" mini-series as being "a mishmash of myth, silliness, and misrepresentations of Scripture." Read the article here. When I read that this morning, I was drinking some diet coke, and very nearly sprewed it all over my computer I laughed so hard. (Not a pretty thought, I know, but it's true.) I wanted to tell somebody all day at work, but it would've meant absolutely nothing to anyone, so I didn't. I need to go walk Daive and take her down to Kylie and Donovan's. They're watching her while I go meet a friend from church. Night everyone.

Last night Daive broke one of her nails. Normally that wouldn't be too big of a deal, but it kinda was. It's nearly impossible to explain to all of you who don't have a dog and aren't too familiar with dog nails and paw pads and such, but nonetheless, it wasn't any of the nails actually on her paw. It was the one on the inside of her leg, an inch or so away from her paw - I call it the thumb nail even though dogs obviously don't have thumbs. Anyway, there was blood on the floor, and I didn't even see it. Kylie noticed it first, then I thought I had been playing too rough with her and it was coming from her mouth. But no...from the nail. It cracked really really high up, but it didn't come off. I have nothing to take it off with - this has happened to her before, and the delightful folks at Banfield always took care of it for me. I held her for awhile with a cloth around it to stop the bleeding, and in a moment of desperation put a glove (an old one) on that foot held on by a ponytail holder. She wasn't so fond of that. But now she won't stop licking it, and it randomly starts to bleed. I need to take her and get all of her nails trimmed, because I can't hold her and trim them at the same time now. I suppose this will just force me to do it - perhaps after work today.

Did I mention that I bought two GRE study books last week? I don't think I did but I can't remember. I did part of the diagnostic test in one of the books and felt like a complete and total idiot. That's good though, because it will make the purchase of the books actually worthwhile. I really should be getting ready for school, so I'll go. But please do go read this - a pet peeve of mine as well, but she expresses herself far more clearly than I ever could.

"It's just the same story a doctor once told me," observed the elder. "He was a man getting on in years, and undoubtedly clever. He spoke as freely as you, though in sarcasm, in bitter sarcasm. 'I love humanity,' he said, 'but I wonder at myself... I am incapable of living in the same room with anyone for two days together. I know from experience. As soon as anyone is near me, his personality disturbs me and restricts my freedom. In twenty-four hours I begin to hate the best of men: one because he's too long over his dinner, another because he has a cold and keeps on blowing his nose. I become hostile to people at the moment they come close to me.' "

- The elder speaking to the woman of little faith, page 65 in The Brothers Karamazov

It'll cost me a grand total of $800 US dollars to get my tattoo removed. That's three visits to the laser doctor over six months, the first costing 400, and the other two costing 200 apiece. I learned also that black tattoos are easier to remove than colored ones, which surprised me. Gotta run. Just wanted to give the info to all you who were on the edge of your seat wondering how it went.

I bought a food processor today! There's no way to say just how exciting that is, though all of you who remember the various accidents I've had using knives or veggie slicers might have a slight idea. I came home and started chopping things right away. It's quite fun. The only bad thing is that there is no electrical outlet in my actual kitchen. Of course, my apartment is a studio apartment, so I have to take two steps from the "kitchen," and I'm in the "living room," and also standing directly in front of an outlet. So everything will be okay. I think I can make hummus now. But they don't sell tahini here (at least not anywhere I've looked), and I haven't found un-cooked sesame seeds to make it - so my version of hummus could be spectacularly disappointing. Even more so, really, because I don't think they have chickpeas/garbanzo beans here either - but I did find a recipe online for black bean hummus. (There was also a recipe for brownies made of black beans...yuck.) I joined at Costco today, and went shopping. I was by myself, which was relaxing, but I couldn't buy everything I wanted to, because I had to carry everything all by my lonesome. So the laundry detergent and Clorox Clean-up (very exciting that they have that here!) stayed at the store. Ah well...some other time. Now I must go chop something.

I woke up today half an hour before I was supposed to be at work, and that just kinda threw my whole day off. I was supposed to go to the bank this morning to send money to my Dad (which will put me closer to freedom from credit card debt) but, obviously, did not have time to do so. It's bizarre, because I set my alarm to go off at least three hours before I actually have to get up. When I reset it, I feel like I got more sleep - it may be bizarre, but it works for me. If I just set it for when I have to get up, I'm really unpleasant. And I can't just hit snooze - unless it is an adjustable snooze...I have to reset the clock. I've been doing this for years though...so whatever. Anyway, I do not have even the vaguest memory of moving this morning in bed, let alone turning off the alarm.

I rushed around and got to work on time, but was thoroughly unproductive. I got some stuff done today, but it was all stuff I HAD to get done - not stuff I should get done. And there's a few new procedures/forms at work that are just time-consuming and annoying. I feel like a jerk complaining at all, because the school is amazing - all the more so when I hear about other hagwons. I've just been a little overwhelmed in some paperwork aspects lately.

Anyway, I checked my email when I got to work and my sister Val had replied to an email I sent her yesterday. It's all extremely quote-worthy, but too personal to share. One thing I do love though, is that she successfully uses the word "harrrumph." She actually used the phrase "harrumph importantly" in reference to someone's predicted actions. Rather obviously, both my sisters are witty and amazing.

Relating to what I had emailed Val about though, and something I've mentioned before - I'm concerned with how cynical I have become about marriage. Before it was just a wondering kind of "I wonder if my attitude is bad..." Now I've progressed to, "Wow, I didn't realize just how bad my attitude toward marriage is." Please understand, there's no relationship on the horizon for me. It has nothing to do with that - I'm concerned with the state of my heart, is all.

Tomorrow morning I'm meeting one of the Korean teachers from work at 9:00 AM for breakfast, and then we're going to a small clinic that does medical stuff with lasers to see if they can remove my tattoo. At this point it's progressed to me just being appalled that I actually have plans to BE somewhere at 9 AM. What was I thinking? Ah well...the past two weekends I was so sick I didn't leave my apartment at all, so I'm quite glad that I'm well enough to be physically capable of leaving in the first place.

Also, when I got home tonight from going out with the other teachers from work, two blocks away I could hear Daive yelping, howling, and barking. Ohhhh....it made me so angry! Angry at her (for being psycho) and for me (for leaving her by herself on the patio for 12 hours). But how lame am I to be like, "Yeah I'd love to hang out with actual HUMANS, but my dog's waiting at home. Sorry...gotta go." I've done that, actually - though I certainly didn't say it like that. Ah...doesn't admitting that automatically put me in some kind of severely relationally challenged category? Wait...don't answer. I'm going to bed before I say anything else. Night.

So today I got the ball rolling towards getting one of my tattoos removed. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I know it's worth checking into. I might not be able to afford to get it done for another month or so (still paying off my credit card). But now that the ball is rolling, I do have the most uncanny and disturbing feeling that it's going to get out of hand and end up running me over. One of the Korean teachers called and made an appointment for me at a big hospital place next Wednesday. But I'm supposed to meet her Saturday morning to go to a small clinic to see if they can do it there. And my insurance card was supposed to have already arrived in my mailbox at home, but it hasn't. And everyone seems to think that it came and I threw it out. I started to throw something out, until I realized it was a bill - now I don't throw anything away - except for the coupons from Lotte mart. And if my insurance is somehow connected with Lotte mart, perhaps I'm in trouble. Ah...so without my insurance card, I'll have to pay out of pocket, and then I can go back and show them my insurance card, and they'll give me money back. I'm more than a little confused, and filled with dread and apprehension. I think getting a tattoo removed in the States would be at least slightly nerve-wracking just because of the pain factor - but here....I'm scared. We'll see how it goes...I'll be sure to keep you all updated. Seriously though, I have a knot in the pit of my stomach right now. Yuck.

Today was a great day. My sixth grade boys were disturbingly good today. It rained today, and I am a big fan of the occasional dreary, wet, gloomy day. I think they're necessary for the soul. Today was also payday, which is far better news to me than anyone could possibly understand. Melissa and I went out to eat tonight, and we were discussing marriage. I have a pretty bad attitude about marriage, to be honest, and was being very critical about it tonight. But I've been thinking since then, and I think the error in my thinking comes in assuming that all the bad times one experiences in marriage is due entirely to the other person. (This is one of those subconscious thoughts - I promise I don't have such blatantly untrue and self-righteous thoughts in the part of my mind I'm more aware of.) But that's wrong. My thinking tonight at dinner was, "Why get married and be miserable when you can be semi-happy and alone?" That's wrong though - it's saying that happiness is a mood, which (the kind of happiness I'm talking about anyway) it isn't. Ah, I get the sneaking suspicion that I'm not making any sense. Anyway, the point is that my attitude and thoughts about marriage are pretty bad - not that it's in my future (definitely not the immediate future), but the root of such thoughts and feelings are important to deal with.

The stairway in my apartment building smelled like an airport tonight. I don't know why that is, and I'm not entirely sure I could describe the airport smell if pressed. Nonetheless, that was my first thought when I was walking up the stairs to my apartment. However, when I was walking back down the stairs to meet Melissa and go for a walk, I thought that maybe it smelled like a hospital. THAT led me off onto a mental tangent about the similarities between airports and hospitals, and how in vastly different ways, they represent transition. (When Melissa and I were walking and I mentioned this, I used "death" instead of "transition.") I'm not sure how true that is related to smaller trips (or smaller medical procedures/operations?), maybe the airport (and hospital) aren't such big deals then. It's just my experience combined with my oh-so unique (morbid?) mind. I know that Pensacola airport...and airport I've been to frequently, took on a whole new light when I was waiting for my flight out of the country (via Memphis, that is). And for those of you familiar with my experiences at Ben Gurion airport...oh...that was beyond trying. Nonetheless, leaving Israel (well, trying to leave Israel and then actually leaving Israel - so both times) represented a transition - the end (death) of a chapter in my life. I'm really not obsessed with death - but death is a vital concept for Christianity. It's been said by so many who are far wiser and more eloquent than myself, so I'll not linger on this point. (I am frustrated beyond belief, because I cannot find the Bonhoeffer quote I'm thinking of - and my copy of The Cost of Discipleship is in Pensacola.) Ah! Found it! Here it is:

When Christ calls a man, He bids him come and die. …death in Jesus Christ, the death of the old man [or nature] at his call.

It's an incomplete quote, but the best I could find. Anyway - that's what I'm thinking about - airports, hospitals, death, transition, Bonhoeffer, and...yoga, actually. On that note, here's my new favorite yoga pose...



It's amazing, and one that you can hold for awhile once you actually get into it. This was the cause of much laughter and a few near-death (again with the death!) experiences yesterday. And I discovered some muscles in my shoulders I didn't know existed. Nonetheless, here it is. Try it!

LdyLeaess: did you ever go get your ice cream?
teresalynntucker: no...I got honey
teresalynntucker: which I hate
LdyLeaess: LOL
teresalynntucker: I'm drinking a version of tea
teresalynntucker: well, not at all
teresalynntucker: it's just hot water with honey
LdyLeaess: I remember Grandpa
LdyLeaess: 's
teresalynntucker: oh yeah
LdyLeaess: cough medicine
teresalynntucker: his had whiskey tho, right?
LdyLeaess: whisky, honey,and lemon

- There was a break here where I discussed the yoga pose I attempted today that made me laugh harder at myself than I have before in my life, involved me doing more backflips than I have EVER, and could very possibly have ended my life. A little too graphic for the public though.-

teresalynntucker: I just added some more hot water and honey to my cup
teresalynntucker: and put in some lemon juice
teresalynntucker: just for Grandpa
LdyLeaess: LOL
LdyLeaess: "and one for my homies"
teresalynntucker: LMAO
teresalynntucker: too funny
LdyLeaess: hee
LdyLeaess: Grandpa is a homie
LdyLeaess: aah
teresalynntucker: I think that's one of the funniest things you've ever said
teresalynntucker: that's going on my blog

One of my students gave me a present today, and it really just made my day. This is the class I've made necklaces and bracelets for (AKA, my favorite class). This particular student is very craft-oriented. Her mom is a quilter, crafty type person. Jane, this student (her English name, obviously) has brought in quilt-type totes and bags before that her mother has made. Ironically, most of them look like they belong in a Cracker Barrel or something like that. Anyway, when I walked into class today, Jane said she had something for me. Her mom had made me this pouch (that's what's embroidered on it). The best way to explain it is to say that it looks like a coin purse, but the size of a wallet. Does that make sense? Anyway, it's absolutely adorable. Very quilted - which is a ridiculous way to describe it. I'm trying to say that it's obviously home-made, and a lot of energy was required for it. Her mom embroidered "Teresa's Pouch" on the front too - all the more substantial seeing as how her mom doesn't speak English. Nonetheless, it did much to make my day.

I also made some kind of connection and/or breakthrough with my sixth graders today. Have I mentioned that my sixth grade class is composed of 4 13-year old boys and 2 12-year old boys? I have them at 6:00 PM on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays - and when I get them, it's probably the tenth hour that these kids have been in some kind of school setting. They're all very smart...but really, I wouldn't be pleasant on a regular basis if I had their schedules. Anyway, their homework should have been simple. It was the second time I'd assigned them the same worksheet in their workbooks. Of the 5 who brought their workbooks, only one student had even a vague concept of what the answers were supposed to be. (FYI, the page was on making predictions - a concept I thought we had discussed to death - but obviously NOT.) Anyway, five minutes into the class I became aware that I had totally LOST all of the kids. They didn't get the sample paragraph...it wasn't interesting (to them or me, to be honest). So, motivated by frustration and desperation I told them to stop reading their books and listen to me. I told them I was going to tell them a story and they had to write a prediction as to how they thought the story would end. This is how it went:

Me: "Okay, what is a prediction [under my breath: for the 100th time...]?"
- Stereotypical crickets chirping to indicate utter silence in the classroom (an unusual state for this class!) -
Me: "All right...who knows what a 'guess' is?"
Students: "ummm....."
Student 1 : "Clothes! Clothes maker!"
Me: "Yes...but beyond that...what is a 'guess'?"
Student 2: "Think...you think something"
Me: "Yes! Now listen to my story and GUESS how it will end, yes?"
NOTE: "Yes?" is the easy (and only successful way) to ask if the students understand. It's a bad habit though, and I find myself using it when I speak to other English speakers and also friends back home. Sorry. Back on track now..
Students: "Yess..." (reluctantly)
Me: "I have a dog."
Student 3: "Yum!"
Me: "No, not that kind of dog."
Student 3: "Ohhhh..." (disappointed - and YES, this really did happen)
Me: "Okay, so my dog likes to run." (I'm gesturing a run at this point.)
Me again: "One day, my friend was holding my dog." (I'm holding the workbook in my arms.)
Me still: "She dropped the dog." (I drop the workbook, much to the amusement of all 6 students)
Me yet again: "We live near a road with a lot of traffic. What will happen?"
All six students are excited now, because they're basically 13-ish year old boys who love violence and gore. I make them write their predictions in their workbooks. They got it though - they predicted the dog would die from either being dropped, or that she would run into the road and get hit by a car. (Note: Student 3 from above did write something about the dog getting hit so we could eat it. Nice...)

It worked well, and I wanted to give another example to make sure they'd understand. I pulled out the story about being attacked by the dog when I was young, not sure if they'd get the connection between the dog being afraid of the fireworks and then chewing on my head. However, I underestimated the graphically violent imaginations of these young men, and the connection was immediate. When I told them that the story was true, and that I did actually receive 30 stitches in my head at one time, I was elevated to nearly god-like status in their warped little minds. Whatever...the point is that they now understand what a prediction is.

Just wanted to let everyone who might have the need to figure out the difference in time between where you are and where I am...there's no changing of the time here. So all of you along the east cost time zone (I cannot ever remember the names of the time zones to save my life) I will now be thirteen hours ahead of you instead of fourteen. And those of you in the next time zone (Pensacola, New Orleans and the few people I know in Texas), I'll now be fourteen hours ahead of you instead of fifteen. Go figure that the time would have to change just when I could do the math automatically in my head. Grr. Ah well...this should be easier to figure out - subtracting 1 or 2 is easier than 3 (when it comes to math, I am entirely simple-minded in the stupid way).

So I don't feel good right now and I'm a little spaced out from the medicine I took. I'm laying on my bed, on my side, and my head is laying on my shoulder while I type. From this angle, me typing reminds me of the show Doogie Howser, and how he always typed in his journal in his ghetto fabulous computer (though it was high tech at the time), and the camera showed the cursor, and just his words. I'm going to go lay down for awhile now. Night (or morning) everyone.

Poor Pensacola! In two days they got more rain than they did in September when Hurricane Ivan hit! Ridiculous, I say!

I, for one, am proud of myself. Jeff hinted (in a not so subtle way) that I should link to his site (and return the courtesy), but I never was brave enough to venture into the scary and foreign land of altering the template myself. I don't like how big the font is, but I can't figure out how to change that without going back to edit every post, and that would be NO fun.

Anyway, I added links! Allow me to introduce you

Rickie writes at the Soapbox blog - as some of you already know. If only he would write more...ah well. His posts are guaranteed to be insightful and make you think - but consider this the disclaimer that they could also make you unhappy.

Christie and Rick write at A Couple of Words - I knew of them at BCF. They are thoroughly delightful, and Christie's posts always entertain me and make my day happier.

Jeff and company (hope that's not offensive to anyone) write at To Whom. That's a site that's kept on trucking.

Delightfully tall and witty Jared writes at the Empty Freezer. Enough said.

Haley, wonderful wonderful Haley writes at Under the Table and Dreaming. It's a private journal 99% of the time, but I think so highly of her and everything she says, that anything that's not private is worth reading.

Leaess is my sister's website. She learned html awhile back, and just made this site. (I find that incredibly impressive.) Anyway, she hasn't updated it in awhile, but there's some interesting stuff there.

Turn Left Past Yonder is where my amazing friend JoAnna writes. She is my stupid moment friend. She just moved out to Texas from Florida.

Dead yet living is a group blog with a couple people from BCF. Almost always interesting, and definitely worth reading.

Why is this so stressful for me? Anyway, thanks to Christie for being my inspiration to sit down and do this. I'm not sure why I've been so excessively wordy as of late. Not trying to overload anyone, I promise.

I've been thinking a lot lately about Graceville - partly because I'm homesick, and partly because of Jeff's post on Tuesday. Well, Jeff's post and the comments. So here is my take on Graceville - and forgive me for sharing when not invited.

I miss Graceville. I liked it, but didn't always appreciate it. My first year had a totally different feel to it than the rest of my time - and that is because of my decisions made during those other years. (Please bear with me if this is incoherent, I have about five different thoughts trying to come out at once.) Due to a combination of factors, I arrived at BCF (then FBTC) not knowing anything about me. I was petrified that I was going to flunk out my first semester. I was certain I'd have no friends. And then everything ended up being so wonderful and going so well. Looking back, I'm not sure how it turned from a "maximize my potential" campaign into a color the hair, pierce and tattoo campaign. That's not to say I necessarily regret those things - I just don't get where it came from. I didn't think I'd be able to go through with getting my tongue pierced. I had talked so much about doing it, but inside I thought I'd back out at the last minute. When I didn't, I was surprised. I was also surprised when I lost friends starting my second year of school. But looking back and seeing what they saw - looked like I had changed entirely - cut off all my hair, pierced my tongue - but instead of seeing things from their perspective, I just got bitter and found new friends. This is where it all started to go downhill.

Anyway, many hair colors later (I incidentally have pictures galore to prove why orange isn't a natural hair color), a few piercings, and three tattoos later - after being suspended from school, moving to Dothan, going back and graduating (summa! no flunking out for me!), going to Israel, and now in Korea - it makes me sad that I'm known for what color hair I had. That's my complaint with my time in Graceville. All the times I hated it were times I pretty much hated myself because I was wrong (for one of countless reasons). There were things I could have devoted my time and energy to that would have actually been useful and profitable in an eternal sense.

But now...what do I think of when I think of Graceville? I think of my dear friend Megan and her amazing family who took me in as basically one of their own, despite my freaky hair or anything else. They kept me at their house over Christmas break when I had my wisdom teeth out and developed 3 dry sockets when Megan was away at camp. They drove to Pensacola to come to my Mom's funeral when she died. When I got suspended from school and had to tell Mama Reece, my heart broke as if I were having to give the bad and disappointing news to my own mother. I think of Dr. Freeman (who I'm convinced isn't the heretic some thought him to be, though I disagree with him on a lot now) - who was my advisor and counselor in some ways. He forced me to speak up in his classes when I didn't want to (but it was good for me), and let me talk through things when I was struggling with the appeal of open theism after my mom's death. I obviously met my dear best friend Bethany in Graceville - and I can't imagine life without her. And that's the thing - I was so stupid and wasted so many opportunities and so much of my time there. While I was there, I despised it frequently. But now, I miss it and I love it - the time God had me there was an extremely productive one. I think that's the realization Jeff was getting at - it's easy to associate your perosnal/spiritual progress (or in my case, lack thereof) with Graceville - and that's wrong. And then once you're gone, you see it wasn't so bad at all.

Anyway, that's my take on it. I miss Graceville. I'm sad for all the dumb things I did and the time I wasted. But I'm beyond thankful that God is sovereign and gracious, and can work even my own foolishness for my good, and for His ultimate glory - somehow.

I'm not exactly sure when it happened - but I realized today at lunch that I get kimchi everyday - and I eat it! Sometimes it's too hot - and Tuesday it tasted vaguely fishy....so I didn't finish it all. What does this mean? I was talking to my sister about how the food is so much better than it was the first month, and she kindly brought it to my attention that it was not the food, but ME that had changed. Weird how that happens, eh? (Notice the appearance of "eh." Due wholly to the influence of the Canadians.) Tonight almost everyone from work went out to eat - today was one of the last days of one of the Korean teachers. We had samgipsol, which is a cut of pork that has I think three layers - meat, meat/fat, and just plain fat. It sounds gross...and it's not my favorite. It's very strange to me though, because Koreans are so big on healthy food and eating healthy - yet they eat fat in this kind of (very popular) meat, and in other dishes. Anyway, we also had kalbi (galbi - pronounce it whichever way...both seem to work) which is marinated pork rib meat. I prefer that over samgipsol. I had something new tonight though - and I cannot remember the name. But it was pork - neck meat (that's how they explained it to me).

I also tasted dried squid jerky-stuff tonight for the first time. I've avoided it up to this point. Kylie described it by saying it wasn't fishy at all, just warm "leather like" stuff. Right. This brings me to an important point - my problem with food is not the smell (I like some stinky food), or even the appearance - but the texture. That is why I cannot eat squid or octopus - whether dried, steamed, grilled, etc. Just can't do it. And that is entirely okay with me.

I'm putting in a big order at Amazon next week - and I'm ordering a book by Walter Kaiser Jr. on missions in the Old Testament. The missions class I'm in at church got into a discussion about this issue, and when I mentioned the book, a few guys said they'd be interested in starting a discussion group/Bible study on it. I could really use that. I'm also ordering a book called Shades of Sheol (I cannot think of the author's name) about belief in afterlife in the OT. We covered this topic in one of my OT Theology classes, and good ol' Dr. Freeman himself recommended this book to me. Looking forward to it. I find that my brain is hungry - starving for learning. I'm meant for school. I'm looking into different master's programs - Baylor has an incredibly interesting MA program in church-state studies - which includes religion, philosophy, and sociology (also some law, and anthropology). Other options I'm considering are (of course) the apologetics program through Biola - one of the only drawbacks about that program is that I want to do the whole school thing, and I think the Apologetics program is only modular right now. Am I wrong about that? I'd look right now, but I'm too sick and tired.

Remind me to post about the amazingly witty and quote-worthy comment made by my sister Val. (Note: when I usually refer to my sister, I usually mean Jen, the oldest one - because she's online a lot and we talk online an awful lot. She's also the one who helps me with the technical aspects of this site when I foul things up. Valerie is my middle sister who I don't get to talk to nearly enough - but I DID get to talk to her this morning at work.) I'd insert her quote here, but it deserves it's own space. Sweet dreams