I think I forgot to mention one the things I am so enamoured of: my co-workers' seemingly insatiable appetite for irrelevant trivia. They truly are just like me!
I think the most exciting moment was when one of them asked me (entirely without provocation) my favourite trivia question: in which four countries in South America is Spanish not the national language?
Things like that make me happy.
The acoustic version of Across The Sea by Weezer also makes me very happy. It's one of those songs that I cannot help associating with almost all my memories of being far away. For example, I have this one distinct memory of lying in a hostel in Bangkok at some point in the summer of 2005, listening to music in an incredibly hungover limbo state. I know intellectually that at that point in time I had not yet become obsessed with the acoustic version of the song, but I can't help the fact that whenever I recollect that moment I impute the song into my memory. It's strange.
It's an appropriate-ish song, even if it originates from the Madame Butterfly-inspired album Pinkerton, and therefore certainly would apply better if I was having my adventure in Japan. At least Korea is in vaguely the right area of the world... You can tell that they're neighbours because they're fighting over islands at the moment. (And before you ask, yes Argentina is very near the UK. What? Everyone knows that the Mercators Projection Map is staggeringly inaccurate, it distorts the relative size of nations and continents and quite frankly "Germany isn't where we think it is".)
The other teachers haven't exhibited signs of intense musical geekery, I have to admit. I think my worst crime was when the book prompted me to ask a gaggle of small children "do you want to be famous?" and I ended up reciting most of Eleanor Rigby at them. Also every time I have to read the line "I really must go" (which seems to come up a lot for some reason) I have to restrain myself from singing the entirety of Baby It's Cold Outside. I like the version I have where the genders are flipped, I must remember who it's by and dig it out... I always love covers that do that, or story style songs that are sung by someone of the opposite gender to the person from whose point of view the song is sung. That wasn't in English was it? But you know what I mean, like Rufus Wainwright singing The Art Teacher which is from the point of view of a crazy teenage girl, or Regina Spektor singing Oedipus which is, strangely enough, from Oedipus' point of view.
In other news, I got my health check back, I'm apparently healthy and drug free- which is good (if surprising) news. I also seem to have managed to pass a psych test that I never took. I wonder if this is some kind of Catch-22 situation, where I'm sane as long as I don't point out that I've never been evaluated?
I had to teach the freebie group class today, everyone who pays for x amount of lessons is entitled to them. So I got to teach business idioms to a small child, a practically silent woman and a pissy businessman. In attempting to explain the concept of a 'chicken and egg situation' I ended up trying to explain the plot of Catch-22, probably fairly inaccurately since I haven't actually read it.
Korean bookshops are going to help me catch up on reading all the books I've wanted to read for a while I think, and can tide me over until my parental package arrives- which I really hope is before I leave the branch on Wednesday. I hope fate allows me one hassle free event!
I've spent too much money on shoes. I did need work shoes that actually fit though. I hate the concept of work clothes, it's especially stressful if you actually have breasts. I'm also getting worried that my favourite (and, for all intents and purposes here, only) handbag is on the verge of breaking. I was kindly provided with needle and thread today, but I doubt my sewing did much to hinder the split.
Since my wonderful optical mouse seems to have died a sudden and inexplicable death I think I ought to sign off soonish, I hate the mouse pads on laptops- I always seem to accidentally brush them in some complicated series of movements which results in me magically deleting everything I've just written.