The Blog Goes to the Dogs

I am not dead. I am also still fat. In case anyone was wondering.
*Warning: this post is long with lots of photos. (Because my editing skills are on vacation. In a sunny place where it doesn't snow EVER.)

Good, now that we have all official business out of the way, I'd like to take this time to post an inane amount of pictures from my past two canine-inspired weekends. Kenny and I have the good fortune of having an awesome Mart Man. I think I've mentioned my Mart Man before. This is not former Mart Man, who was more like a boy and said nice things about my hair and gave me free things to drink from the Family Mart next to my old school in Gangnam. Nope, this is the new and improved Mart Man- married with a daughter who owns the Hyundai Mart next to our apartment building. He is AWESOME. He is kind, funny, and most importantly thinks I'm so much more lovely and wonderful than I actually am. And we all know how I feel about people who consistently overestimate my worth. Love. Mart Man even came to Kenny's art show opening with his daughter, who is a total strawberry.

So, when he told us that he wanted to take us to see some puppies (note: all dogs are puppies in my book. It makes them feel younger, okay?), I jumped out of my chair and did a "going to see the puppies" dance. Or, I just said, "Cool." I can't remember which, but both feel probable, so pick whichever one endears me to you more. Well, we ended up at a kennel for Siberian Huskies. I was a little nervous, because I tend to have issues with dogs in cages / small spaces / any kind of fenced in tiny area. But Mr. Cho is a true dog lover who cares for his dogs and even quit his job to be a full time breeder and handler so he could spend more time with his pups. All the dogs have huge pens with a separate little sleeping area and no more than two dogs are ever penned together. And the momma and puppies have their own little building to protect them from the elements a little more. Anyway, understand that these dogs are loved and cared for better than most children.

Digression: (Y'all, last night we watched this TV program on EBS about these "healing dogs," who help people recover from sickness, help mentally challenged patients improve their social skills, and assist the disabled. Well, one dog had been a healer for his entire life and they were retiring him. So they found him a good family to take him. One with kids to play with and plenty of space. And when his handlers left him there, I cried. I sobbed. I gave myself a headache. Because when his handlers left, he kept onlooking out the door. I don't know. This is how sensitive I am about animals. I can't watch Avatar because they kill imaginary nonexistent animals. Okay, maybe I could watch it, but I don't feel like crying right now so just back off.) End digression.

So, we hung out at the kennels and played with Bolt, who is still getting his show dog training. I had a great time with the dogs puppies. They get a lot of exercise, are well-cared for, and beautiful with sweet temperaments. I was thrilled.

These are 24 day old pups. Don't you want to squeeze the little puff balls?

45 day old pups. I squealed and cursed our wonderful, but small yardless apartment that keeps me from loving one of these pups full time!

Stop judging my face. This is how I communicate with the souls of the puppies, okay?

Mart Man's daughter gets a Husky Hug!

More Husky love.

 Mr. Cho, the kennel owner is also the owner and handler of Royal Prince, the husky who has won a ridiculous amount of Best of Breed awards and Best of the Best awards in Korean competitions and International competitions. And it just so happens that he was traveling to a dog show (KKF and IFC) in Icheon and needed an interpreter for some guests from Singapore. Well, guess who knows Korean and English? And has a wife who loves puppies? Yup. The HubbO! So, Mr. Cho asked us to accompany him to the dog show and do you know what? I got up at stinking 5:50 in the morning and we were on the road by 6:45 am. Can you even believe that? Me neither. So, we went to the show where Prince won Best of Breed again. Mr. Cho said that he doesn't take him to many shows anymore because all the other Husky owners get kind of miffed at him because Prince shuts down the competition every time. It's amazing and it was really fun to watch him win. Okay, now, onto more photos from the show!

Completely focused and relaxed. Eye on the prize, baby!

Locking down another prize.

Fell in love with these cuties. Perhaps it's our ChubbO kindred spirits?

Who you callin' ChubbO?

Horse Great Dane in the ring.

Preserving dignity for dogs getting groped around the world.

Hello gorgeous.

A brindle boxer shot for the Sisda. Reminds me of Samson!

Wait. Is this a good hair day or a bad hair day?

And I saved my favorite shot of the day for last. I had to comb through so many photos. I'm actually pretty proud of myself for paring it down, although my first goal was to post only 5 pictures. I'm only 13 over! (Maybe. That's calculated with Danielle Math, so no guarantees!) This bulldog and boxer interaction was probably the funniest thing I saw all day.

I now declare you this tall.

And, now, hopefully we'll be back to our more regular, less furry programming.

LAC to the Max

We now return to your regularly scheduled programming. Life of Anonymous Celebrity is back. In case you're just now tuning in: 1, 2, 3. 

Scene 1: My new coworker Angie (who adorably asked me "So what is a blog anyway?" and I was all, "Oh reeeeeeeally?" in a creepy voice that probably, instead of luring a new reader who would remain faithful through personal-contact-guilt-workshops, will cause her to now immediately navigate away from any page or site containing the word blog) and I were eating at Outback because our kids drove us to a state of carb craving like you have never seen. A nice young waitress approaches, listens as I point to the menu and tell her what we'd like, and then looks at me and says, "Long time, no see." And I had to say, "Yes, it's been a while. Is Austin still working here?" She told me he quit. And that made me sad. Because Austin actually made me proud to be an Anonymous Celeb. He always said, "Hello Ladies," and it cracked me up, because when do you hear Koreans saying Hello Ladies? Anyway, waitress just made me look like even more of a ChubbO in front of the new blog-innocent Angie. Eh, she would've found out sooner or later.

Scene 2: Keun Ha and I climbed Gomdansan. On the way, we stopped at a memorial and had some cookies in the grass underneath a tree. But as I was walking across the plaza of the memorial, three high school boys came up to me with a piece of paper. 

"Si-nuh."

"What?"

"Si-nuh," was repeated while a pen was shoved into my right hand. As I put the pen in my left hand and took the paper I said, " What do you want? My name?"

"Yessuh! Yessuh!"

"Why?"

"Uuuuuuuh. Mmmmm....... PROJECT! Yessuh. Project." 

"Okay." 

Signed my lovely autograph on the piece of paper and the boys giggled as they rejoined a large group of their fellow students in the shade of the monument. (Yes, they giggled. Korean boys and men have no masculinity issues WHATSOEVER. You got stuff you need to carry? Purse works, use it. You like that shirt that is hot pink with the flowers across the shoulder? It fits, wear it. Your friend's hair is all whacked out? Put your hands in his hair, fix it. You can't see the game he's playing on his cell phone unless you wrap your arm around his waist and rest your chin on his shoulder? Do it.) 

So, I have officially been asked for my autograph. See? Famous. 

Scene 3: I was checking out at the Family Mart when Mart Man all of a sudden popped a free apple juice down on the counter and told me it was mine. For free. Free stuff is awesome, even if it's just apple juice.

So, I believe I have brought quite a strong case in support of my position as an Anonymous Celebrity here in Korea. In the past month I have been "sighted" at a popular restaurant, "accosted" by teenage fans and begged for an autograph, and gotten a "freebie." 

I'm a celebrity. Touch me. 

Life of Anonymous Celebrity, Part III

(In case you missed it the first time, LAC 1, and LAC 2.)

I'd like to present a definition of celebrity, courtesy of that bastion of knowledge, Wikipedia: A celebrity is a widely-recognized or famous person who commands a high degree of public and media attention.
I'd like to present a definition of Anonymous Celebrity, courtesy of moi: An anonymous celebrity is a widely-recognized, yet nameless person who commands a high degree of public staring and is sometimes approached on the street by strangers and instead of being asked for an autograph, is kindly asked to "please very much dialogue with my daughter." This person is only known by sight and is never understood intimately by the public, due to the lack of in-depth interviews with journalists and the as-of-yet nonexistent English teacher paparazzi (unless you count the countless pictures on the Haba Playschool picture gallery that only parents are privy to).

As I have stated before, people know me. It's easy to recognize me because I'm a breathtaking specimen of ChubbO, not often sighted around these parts of the world. So, if I hop into the Family Mart almost every day for a chocolate milk and a breakfast pastry, the guy behind the counter is going to notice. The young guy who works there speaks enough English to tell me my total is one thousand four hundred and fifty won instead of 천 사 백 오 십 원. Now, I'm sure there are also a few Koreans who work the Fam. into their morning routine, and I'm also sure that Mart Man remembers some of them. But because I'm so obviously white and English-speaking, and there's only one of me (not counting my blonde British colleague, Meghan, whom Mart Man is also on familiar terms with) he knows who I am. Despite my insistence on speaking Korean to him, he always speaks in English to me.

Now, yesterday, I wore my hair down to school for the first time. Because I usually don't drag my chubb out of bed on time, I shower quickly and throw the brunette locks into a wet ponytail or doody ball, as my sister so endearingly calls the messy bun I sometimes sport. But yesterday I had open classes, the ones where all the moms come and watch their kids, making sure they're worshipping learning English quickly and with as much fervor as possible. So, I decided to spice things up a bit by forgoing the wet ponytail. 

Today, I did not have open class, so I was back to the regular "didn't have time to shower so threw on this headband and a clean t-shirt to fool you" look. I walk into the Family Mart, slap my milk and pastry onto the counter. Our dialogue is exactly the same as every other day. Up until I'm stuffing my pastry and milk into my purse after my wallet so I can hold my umbrella as I walk the rest of the way to school. He says something I don't catch while holding his hands up to the side of his head and then sort of spreading his fingers and waving them downwards, like he's trying to mimic a peacock's feathers. I don't have time to say anything in response because my facial expression has shouted to him that I don't understand. He repeats himself, "Out hair much better." I say, "Um?" thinking he's talking about outside air being much fresher or something because the door to the shop is propped open today. I begin to think it's about time to do the whole smile, annyanghaseyo, walk away routine when he does his sign language again, and repeats "Out. Hair. Much. Much. Better." (See? Sometimes it does help when you talk to foreigners slower and louder.) I laugh and say thanks as I turn to grab my umbrella and head out into the rain. 

Mart Man likes my hair down. It's "Much. Much. Better" that way, apparently. Although it made me feel good that he thought I looked nice yesterday, the double "much" stung a little. But then I got in the elevator with the mirror  and realized he was right. The clean t-shirt isn't fooling anyone.