And they say: "You haven't changed a bit"

Since I'm approaching yet another birthday mileSTONE (feels rather like The Rock of Gibraltar), I am not looking in the mirrow very often if I can help it. I rely on friends who tell me: "you haven't changed a bit." What a trusting fool I've been. What's this shape, then? If it werent' for the camera and the hat I wouldn't have recognized myself.
******
(continuing about 30 minutes later): I had to stop my blogging activities because I was interrupted by a student - not even mine, but a colleague's. The best way to tell you what and how our little encounter happened, is to give you the script of our little dialog:
*****************
Scene: Teacher's office on the 8th Floor. Teacher at a computer, blogging. A soft knock. Follows a a louder knock.
T= Teacher S= Student
T: Come in!
( a head of spikey hear and a pair of shoulders wrapped in a zebra pattern push in)
S (male): Hello. Can I come in?
T: Sure.
S: (says again) Hello, can I come in? (this as he is fully in and walking towards teacher's desk. Teacher doesn't recognize the student. He looks like any other cool Korean dude, baggy pants, all animal pattern, spiky hear, adorned with at least 5 items of digital technology and wrapped in cables and chains dangling off of him).
T: I don't think I know you. You can't be a student of mine? Are you?
S: Oh, no, no. I am a student of D's. He told us to visit foreigners.
T: (getting a bit annoyed at this, cuz D should have asked first. She thinks she'll have to give him an interview, a fave assignment among foreign teachers). So, what can I do for you?
S: Nothing, really. May I sit down on this sofa?(and he sits). Wait a minute (this with a raised hand and pointed finger. (he turns off his cell phone). D said we should talk a lot with a foreigner to improve our English. So, I am here to talk with you. That's all.
T: O.k. (teacher's attitude a bit softened by his honesty and chutzpah).
S: (very earnestly, in that unmistakable earnest Korean way): He said, we should have relationship with foreigner. I really want to have a relationship with you (looks up at the teacher like a puppy, expectant eyes wide open).
T: (bursts out laughing, cannot help but say): And, what kind of relationship would you like to have with me?
S: (realizing what he said, but managing to keep most of his cool). OH, no, no. Sorry, I make a mistake. I just want to have a relationship with you for my English. Please, don't misunderstand me. (Then he argues his points). I am not English major, but I really, really love English, and I want to talk to many foreigners to cnversation freely. D said that other professors are kind and I should have a relationship... no, no, I mean talk to them.
T: (touched by his earnest and honest attempts). It's o.k. I don't mind. It's just that at the moment I'm very busy and I would have appreciated if you had called before visiting - but, since you're here, let's talk a bit. I can spare about 10 minutes.
S: (visibly relieved and pleased). Thank you.... ****

Then we spent about 1/2 hour talking about this and that. The more relaxed he got the better his English. He talked about his Toeic score, and ways of improving his langauge skills, about Koreans and Korea, language and culture (quite a surprise this non-major freshman, I have to say). He also gave me bits and pieces of goss about his other English teachers - nothing mean, actually, just their funny idiosyncrasies -D's tendency to call his students Halmonis and Harabojis and himself Aegi.
If I hadn't interrupted him by saying that I had to finish my work (blog, humph) and that I had a meeting at Hyatt (well, wine tasting), he would have still been here.
Before he left, he thanked me profusely and promised to call next time before he comes. I'll be happy to see him. I'm still smiling. I wish we had more students like him, as inconvenient as their presence in our offices sometimes happens to be.

Gold and Silver

I spent all of Sunday by the river, mostly marking papers. To break up the monotony of endlessly long entries I would leave them for a while for a walk by the river, a few minutes of reading for plesure, or jotting down an odd thought or two. I also visited the designated ramyeon ajumma (twice) and I took numerous photographs. Here are the results.

"Truly Good Manners are Invisible"

Moojummas on a stroll along the Han-river and the felled author's head (somewhere in the bush).
"Truly good manners are invisible: they ease the way for others, without drawing attention to themselves."
No fret, dear reader. I haven't come up with this brilliant little quotation. How could I? I ain't known for rudeness but neither am I famous for being Miss Manners. I am fine with that. I'm quoting someone much politer than me - and if you stick with me for a bit, you'll find out who.

Yeah, I reckon I hold decency in much higher regard than manners. Y'all know my meaning? It's like: don't do bad stuff that's like bad for me but kinda convenient for you, and then, like, apologize, and live happily ever after basking in the light of your great manners and perhaps even goodness. Newsflash: you're still a bad person who's done a bad thing followed by a premeditated apology, an obvious one, one that in no way eased the way for me but eased the way for you into not feeling bad about bad stuff that you do.
The Point illustration:
Brother ONe after finishing a whole box of Oreos that he was supposed to share with Brother Two "Ooh, I should really save some cookies for bro 2, but ooh, they look so good. Humph! Oh, yes, - am a genius: I can eat my cookies and apologize for eating them, too. Sure, he'll be angry and he'll cry, but I'll just apologize louder; AND if he doesn't accept my apology, well, that's too bad, he's a bad ass. " A very easy solution to a difficult gastro-moral dilemma, ain't it? Everybody happy. Except, of course, bro2 who didn't get a teeny-weeny cookie crumb.

I'm not against apologies, you see - they are necessary in our social context, and I use them all the time, but I do try to REALLY mean them. I'm all for second chances. BUT the accent is on Second Chances, you see. Apologies are no soap operas; if they are true, they are not serial, not perfunctory. I could never understand that weird expression: "Say it LIKE you mean it." Does this mean: "Geez, you're no Oscar material. Give it some feeling, - act better." Why don't we change this into: "Say it AND mean it, and if you don't mean it, don't say it, cuz you cheapen it."
Oh, dear. I'm losing my red thread (thanks to the --th glass of red wine). Oh, yeah, manners is the issue at hand. Speaking bout them manners: Sorry for the grammer and the pumctuation; I've stumbled upon redneck.com on Youtube, those two fat cousins, Mr. Big and Mr. Hugh G. Somethingson. What can I say... my mind is stillsoft and bendable ...although I've almaost reached The Big "Oh- NO!-O", am bad-influenced by their grammer and pumctuation.

The manners, as defined by Lynne Truss, the funny (and fussy!) author of the fine (and fussy
!) little book on punctuation called "Eats, Shoots & Leaves" - they are the kind I like and must work on. She was actually talking about punctuation and compared good punctuation with good manners - invisible and there to ease your way - in the case of punctuation, of course, into the true meaning of the text, as the author intended it (btw, if you don't get this entry, your punctuaiton sucks, not my ideas).
I'm not going to reveal all the sources of the inspiration for this little late-nite with computer blogging gem. Generally, I bitch and complain when I am cranky - and I'd been cranky even before they cut my tree (due to the hyperactive thyroid gone berserk, quite possibly) and now, after it happened, I'm walking vinegar, dripping acid and leaving foul-smelling smoldering holes in the ground behind me. Suffice it to say that I was inspired by the little Panda book (you know the one who eats, shoots, and leaves) and its acute punctuation/good manners parallels. On top of it, not long ago a great friend of mine was badly hurt by someone who then dragged his guilt through a series of apologetic emails - ones designed for his benefit not hers. Last but not least - I spent all day out by the river, walking among lots and lots and lots of people. Suffice it also to say that in no way was any way eased for me, and that there were no manners present, of either visible or invisible kind.

A final thought to ponder for you ponderers out there:

Is it: "Woman: without her, blog is nothing."
Or: "Woman without her blog is nothing."
You decide. (this also from Miss Fussy Truss, an old punctuaiton quiz, a bit personalized