Can't even afford to pay attention

“If pigs could vote, the man with the slop bucket would be elected swineherd every time, no matter how much slaughtering he did on the side.” Orson Scott Card

I can honestly say that I have never wanted to be rich. I've just been content to be comfortable. To have enough. Enough food, clean accommodations, a bit of spending money, coffee. To save a few dollars. To not go in debt. And until now I (we) have been able to do all that on one salary. Rent for university lodgings are fairly cheap, we don't have a car, I curb my love of department store fashion. We don't drink Starbucks. We don't use credit cards. We don't have nasty drug habits. Sniff.

I remember just 2 years ago writing about how Korea was a good place to work because it gave me the chance to work and save and still live a comfortable life. Well no more, friends, no more. A combination of inflation*, increased food prices, a growing child, a move away from the cheaper Southern provinces, Hayden's posh clean daycare and the loss of a few private classes has effectively taken both the the "comfort" and the "able" out of comfortable. I am officially poor. This means we pay our bills, save for tuition, buy our groceries and then ... for the last week before payday we just hang out at Homever and eat the sample tofu kebabs they give away. We aren't actually hungry - but we almost are. For years and years I've been happily teaching English and not complaining too much about the shit salary - after all, we get great vacations and I like my job - but now I'm realizing that it just isn't enough. Really. It isn't enough to carry us (3 people with regular appetites) to the end of the month.

I've searched through my somewhat elaborate repertoire of emotions (I'm a woman, after all) but this is simply what I come up with: anger, sadness, tiredness, bewilderment, guilt. And a pressing desire to figure it out. And, well, the rise of new questions that I hadn't bothered with before because I was so damn comfortable. How IS it that I've studied for 10 years and taught English for 10 years and I still get paid (almost) the same as a entry level hakwon teacher? Why is the starting salary for an associate professor at my particular institution more than 5 times what I get paid? Why don't the foreign EFL teachers get yearly bonuses like the Korean teachers? Actually, why do I get the same salary as a welder in a car shop? Shouldn't I get paid more than that? Hell, shouldn't the welder get more than that too? Discomfort is making me ask all sorts of impolite questions.

Not sophisticated - but there you have it. Just yuckiness and, of course, unanswered questions. No one has answers for me. My Korean superiors (most of whom are just too comfortable) aren't going to offer me any real answers and my workmates (most of whom don't need extra money and really like their vacations) aren't going to offer me any answers either. No boat rockage around these parts.

I'm not one to mope for too long though (my mother calls these moments "pity parties" and historically has steadfastly refused to allow them in her home - and this is a habit I've kept with some semblance of integrity over the years) so it seems that there is really only one solution.

Yes.

I'll have to start selling my body. Heh. That was a joke. What I meant to say - before the devil took over - is that I really am going to leave Korea. To find some comfort again. To make some money. To support the family. To save enough to buy a wee plot of land (to live on - not to be buried in). I have officially given my notice so that means I have only one more semester left in Daejeon and then it seems I will be off for greener pastures (or perhaps sandier deserts) for a year or two. The Illustrious Mister has given his permission and we both feel that perhaps a bit of space, as well as a bit of money, might make us remember why we decided to get hitched in the first place. It's aaaaalllll good, as my little sister says.

Who knows where we'll end up - but we still have a few months to decide so I'll be keeping you posted (!) as things transpire. Job hunting is exciting! I SO wish I could go to Scotland. Or Spain. Or Bora Bora. Sigh.

Maybe I should just go to trade school and become a welder?

MP3: Bedouin Soundclash - money worries
MP3: Sloan - cheap champagne
MP3: Mountain Goats - love love love

*I don't actually know what inflation is.

~

I love Lykke Li. And Feist.

And maybe you will too!



Feist - i feel it all (video link)
~

Everyone in the world is funnier and smarter than me ...

This is not really true (not everyone is) but in my last post I proved that Mr. Sink or Schwim is funnier. And today I endeavour to show that Sybil Vane of Bitch Ph.D is much smarter. And, well, probably funnier too. Although, personally, I'm a fan of "Get out of Laundry" coupons, I think she has written a great post. Check it out here.

Every year I become increasingly annoyed with Parent's Day (a day the Chosunilbo claims is based on "Korea's deep-rooted Confucian notion of filial duty") quite simply because I feel that mothers in Korea REALLY SHOULD HAVE THEIR OWN DAY. Complete with crocodiles. And icecream. And windblown hair. And no worries.


I think perhaps that little Park Ji-yeon hit the washer on the head when she said: "we have Parent's Day on the eighth day of May. It was originally called Mother's Day, but is now called Parent's Day for fear that fathers should feel alienated".

Grrr. I think she's right.

Happy Mother's Day!

MP3: Andrew Bird - the naming of things

~

My aching ribs

So. Tucked away in the wee city of Suwon (or Seosan? or Susan?) there is a funny guy with a blog called Sink or Schwim. He makes the FUNNIEST single panel comics called Far From Home. Check them out.

Honestly. You'll groan until you laugh. I promise.

1. 2. 3. 4.

Take a look. And prepare to be amused.
~

Clichés and bad metaphors - avoid them like the plague

"Salvation, if it comes at all, will be conscious. Ignorance is not the road to wisdom. Sincerity of emotion will not be enough." Sappho in Art and Lies. - Jeanette Winterson

Every semester I teach an essay writing course and I try to impress upon my students the benefits of considering their audience; how the way they write (or what they write, or how much) depends somewhat on the people who are reading. This is not rocket science (which - funnily enough - is actually something some of my students study) but it's an important point nevertheless.

I obviously didn't follow my own advice when I wrote my last post because I've been flooded with emails from concerned people (some friends, some family, some people I've never actually met in person) who are wondering if I'm off to the divorce courts. Or what. An explanation is in order but now I'm left with the unsettling realization that because my audience consists of a eclectic mishmash of family, friends, acquaintances, frudents*, strangers, ex lovers and cyber pals - I'm not sure how to offer up my elucidation. Oh well. That'll teach me.

I'm not really looking for a new husband. My experiment in marriage has not ended yet - although when I wrote my last post I fully intended it to be a comment on the current state of affairs at chez woori. Without going too much into detail (which would obviously be tilted and biased in my favour and give away too much unauthorized information about the currently less-than-illustrious Mister Lee) I can certainly say that deep culture, personality clashes and possible biochemical issues have tarnished our sweet nuptial clan/plan. Or maybe we're both just assholes.

I'm not sure. Here is how I really see it in my head: you know those old 'Choose your Own Adventure' books? The ones where you had to make a choice to, say, fight the monster or run away? Turn back home or keep walking? Talk nicely to someone or show your anger? Turn the other cheek or pluck out someone's eye? Forgive and forget or ask someone to be accountable for their actions? In those books, each action takes you to a new page where you read some more and then are eventually faced with a new set of choices, and so on and so on, until you find yourself, choiceless, at the end of the book. Either happy or sad. Dead or alive. Sometimes, if you made the 'wrong' choices, the end would come after just 6 or 7 pages.

Well that's how I feel about the past 6 years. Six is such a small number but I think the illustrious Mister and I have just consistently made bad choices about how to deal with each other. We tried to make the best decisions each time a decision had to be made (be kind, fight back, defend, relent) but they were probably the wrong choices at just the wrong times. And so I think we're probably at the end of the book.

If this sounds maudlin please scroll to the end. If you'd like to know more, please keep reading.

Or something like that. Still, we aren't 100% sure about anything right now except that we love Hayden and want her to be happy. And that I feel pretty strongly that I may not make it to the 10 year mark in Korea. I have a so-called 'good job' for an EFL teacher but I feel dissatisfied in a way that I know isn't going to disappear by changing my syllabus or buying a new pair of shoes. Not that I can really afford new shoes on my 'good job' salary. That's another issue as well. Too many people/too many graduate courses/not enough money. I think that I might (with permission) just whisk Hayden away to the Middle East (or Canada or America or Hong Kong) for a year or two and make some money, teach some kids and get some perspective. Create a new paradigm or a philosophical system or something. Do my PhD. Make some small changes before deciding to add 'divorced' to my list of stunning accomplishments. Who knows.

So that's what is happening on the personal front. Things are bad but they aren't THAT bad. I still walk outside my apartment every day and think "god, those Acacia smell amazing" and "wow, look at that MOON! It's gorgeous". And sometimes the Mister and I catch ourselves laughing together at something Hayden has said or done and we forget that we hate each other. Maybe with some distance we can find more of those moments. Yes, gag me with a cliché.

That's all I have for today. I'm going to stay away from blogging about personal drama from now on and limit my posts to bitter tirades against the meat/dairy and cigarette industries, cleverly crafted snippets designed to convince you that my daughter is the cutest in the world, and more stuff about music and Korea (and perhaps even music in Korea). So there.

Werd outte! Songs for you:

MP3: Kate Nash - foundations
MP3: Caribou (fourtet remix)- melody day
MP3: Brighton MA - bet you never thought
MP3: Nina Gordon - lighter on the moon
MP3: Seabear - hands remember

* a frudent is half friend and half student. Like a centaur, but a bit different. They're usually grad students, but not always. Frudents have been causing a lot of passionate debate around here lately - and just last week I was publicly castigated for walking (long after sunset) with a male frudent. Shocking. I may blog about frudents sometime soon. Generally I'm in favour of them.
~