my story

I'll just start out today by letting everybody know that I am workin it. Let's see... I'm sportin some sparkly black flip-flops, and some cute jean shorts, a black leather belt, and black and white plaid cap, and... a Puma tee. haha. Oh, and my hair is curled. Details are coming.

Yesterday I learned a very important lesson. I made a big fuss about the fact that I looked good. I mean real good. Like Ron Burgundy good. Well, on the way home, I discovered that expensive shoes + monsoon season = no good. Apparently, a light drizzle can immediately evolve into a five-inch-deep-twelve-foot-wide-puddle-producing deluge, which it did. My shoes are still drying out (bear in mind, this occurred 24 hours ago) and I don't suppose I'll know the extent of the damage until they're completely dry. As I was walking I considered the idea that I should have waterproofed them, but I know it wouldn't have made a bit of difference. They were soaked inside out. Like soggy shoeprints in the hallway soaked. Like soggy shoeprints in the hallway squishy water noise every time you step soaked.

But today I had an even better experience.

I'll start out by saying that this story doesn't quite reach the height of propriety. In fact, my Korean side is encouraging me to not record this story, while my American side thinks it's really funny and is egging me on. I grew up in the American culture, so you know which side trumps.

One of the perks about living alone is that when I'm home by myself, I can wear -- or not wear -- whatever I want. I've never experienced this before, and I really like it. The courtyard is a couple of hundred feet, so I know that if I leave my lights off, people cannot see into my apartment, and I have a great deal of freedom. This morning I took advantage of this freedom again. Those who have had Korean food before know that it's extremely smelly and I wisely took off my shirt so it wouldn't smell like food.

It has rained nonstop today. Around noon I decided to make some kimchi chiggae, since it was one of those wet, cool, drizzly kimchi chiggae type days. I put some oil in the pot and started the gas burner. I've had trouble adjusting to gas, and still haven't figured out how to reach a certain temperature. So a lot of times I manage to burn my food. Today was no different. I could tell the oil was getting hot, so I put in some kimchi and pivoted to get my diced garlic. When I turned back around flames were leaping out of the pot.

I've heard of studies that found that women react better in emergency situations than men. I'll let you be the judge of that.

The first thought that went through my mind was "water." I quickly decided against that, because the last thing I wanted was flaming oil flying through the kitchen. So the next idea was "air." I removed the pot from the burner and began furiously blowing the flames out, and within five seconds they were gone. No singed eyebrows.

Despite the quick response, I was enveloped in smoke. Let me try my own stream of consciousness approach here. I'll even use the italics. smoke detector-sprinkler system...water-logged tv's and computers exploding... the furious neighbors "개똥아" "바보멍청이?" millions of dollars worth of damage. I leapt into action. A lot of people use that phrase figuratively, but I use it with all of the physical literality it can possibly manifest. I did leap. Then I sprinted to the windows and threw them open and drew the curtains to allow for the maximum amount of smoke movement. Bear in mind that all of the lights in my apartment are on, and I'm parading in front of the window, shirtless. Bear that in mind, because trust me, I was definitely bearing it in mind every nanosecond I was there.

I ran back to the kitchen and turned on the fan. Then I ran back into my bedroom, past the open windows, and grabbed the first shirt I could find, which was my Puma tee, which explains why I'm coordinated so well today.

I had a rack of clothes drying (now a very smelly rack of clothes) and grabbed a towel off of it to fan the smoke towards the windows.

Turns out the smoke detector did not go off. Turns out the sprinkler system didn't activate.

I gathered up my courage and proceeded to make my kimchi chiggae. Turns out that the dish was pretty good; while one would never recognize it as kimchi chiggae, one would acknowledge it as a very tasty watery kimchi bokkeum.

Turns out I should invest in an apron.