Seriously, who needs a dryer?

Hello again, friends and lovers...

Alright, friends and family. But lovers sounds cooler.

Actually, that was a little gross.

Ok, so I realize I'm a little spoiled. I've never had to worry about hanging clothes on the line. But now I do. I suppose I should be grateful I have a washing machine, but my pants have been hanging for over 24 hours and they're still damp. I just put some jeans out today. Hopefully they'll be dry come winter. I'll snap some pics of the porch/laundry room area so I can show it off to all of you "dryer-people" back home.

The supermarkets all have these guys in the produce section on a headset mic talking... after some recon I've deduced they're announcing our position to the rest of the store. That's right. It's all about us.

I forgot to mention earlier: on the plane somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean we hit a bit of a storm. I've flown through them before, so I wasn't too concerned. You're flying in the cloud itself, so it's mostly just some turbulence and no big deal. But Jen and I are looking out the window as we go when this giant arc of lighting shoots along side the plane, from one cloud to another. That scared me, folks. It was one of those moments I was glad I couldn't see the pilots. I really don't think I could handle watching them jump out of their seats shouting "Holy shit! Did you see that? We're going to die!!"

Speaking of things I don't want to know about...

Turns out I'm not as adventures with food as I'd thought I'd be. Jen is much better about this. But we were looking for a place to eat lunch yesterday (always an adventure), when we stop too long in front of this little hole in the wall and this little old Korean woman comes out and all but pulls us inside. We sit down at the table. Everything is in Korean. The lady points repeatedly to something on the menu. It costs about $4 USD, and she seems very excited. So we go for it. I've learned how to say "no seafood". No problem, she says. Or close enough.

I don't know how to accurately describe what they brought us. It was a soup, looked like a tomato base, with what looked a little like long thin strips of onion and empty kernels of corn. Then there was this gray wrinkly... stuff... and some other types of meat I couldn't ID. It didn't smell horrible, and the taste was not so bad I lost it. It was served with rice and kimchi. Jen ate a good amount. I did what I could, in the end taking a spoonful of the rice and mixing it with the broth. Jen started to share her thoughts on what it was. I convinced her to not talk about it until after I'd eaten something else.

So, wanna know what I put in my body? So did I. I got the name from the little old lady and when I got to work, I asked one of the Korean teachers what it was. It's pronounced son-jee. It's a cow blood soup, with bean sprouts, cow intestines, and either stomach lining or heart. Most likely stomach lining. It's very good for you, and is reputed to be a great cure for hangovers.

Dinner was fried chicken.

For those wondering about my weight (and, really, who isn't?) I'm actually doing pretty well. We live on the 5th floor of the apartment complex and Jen and I are taking the stairs almost every time. I hate it.

Ok, running out of time. But before I do, I'd like to introduce a new segment: "Korean Signs!"

Here's our first:

Apparently, the Seoul Metro subway doors are equipped with small explosives should you be foolish enough to be caught in them. MWAHAHAHA!!!

Ok, that's going to do it for me. I'm off to find lunch. Today, it's cheesa-tounge-casoo, which despite the scary name, is pork with cheese in it. Yes, I'm sure.

We miss you guys!! Much love from Seoul.

-Al and Jen