a little coffee

I wish I had something more interesting to say than another complaint about our apartment temperature, but, alas I don’t. Oh, wait. Chris and I managed to lock ourselves out of our apartment last night as we were going out to dinner. Just as I was digging around my purse, realizing I had left my keys in my other coat, Chris slammed the door. He usually has his keys in his pocket but not yesterday! No biggie. We banged on Robert’s door, called James, took a taxi to campus, go the key, went to dinner, and got into our apartment.

I guess I could mention that yesterday, Robert came up for our semi-regular card game of Euchre and Hearts. We had some drinks and laughs while Chris ceaselessly quizzed us on the classical music mix that he had compiled that we were listening to.

“I know this tune!” Robert said.

Chris: “Do you know who composed it?”

Robert (as he’s pouring beer): “It’s Schubert! Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony. I heard it on the Simpsons.”

Chris: “No. The composers Russian.”

Me chiming in: “Brahms! Beethoven! Mozart!”

Chris (slowly): “No. He’s Russian.”

Me (stalling while taking a sip of wine) : “Uhhh…”

Robert: “”Schubert! I know it is. I heard it on the Simpson’s.”

Chris: (shakes head in annoyed pity) “Schubert isn’t Russian. This is Tchaikovsky. The 1812 Overture!”

Me: “Ohhhhh….”

Robert: “Oh right. Must have got the song wrong then. But I remember Principal Skinner saying ‘This is Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony.”

And so the night continued. The heat had finally clicked on late Thursday night so by Saturday, the apartment was actually at a comfortable temperature, bordering on stuffy because, I suspect, it’s warmed up immensely outside. But we have absolutely no control over the heat. Can’t turn it up, down, off or on. The Doodles were kind enough to take care of that pesky thing for us. Remembering the start of winter in our old apartment last year when on some days it was warmer outside then inside, and how Chris and I shivered through March, we’re reveling in the almost-stuffiness!

Oh, no! Where are my feet?

Originally uploaded by a little coffee

Winter smacked Anyang in the face this week. The snow started late Monday night and didn’t let up until this afternoon. And the Doodles just don’t know how to handle it. Part of it, I think, is the sudden smacking. As noted in the last post, the temperature dropped plummeted in just a few days and then a major snowfall over night. Also, I don’t think they’re well equipped to handle more than a dusting of snow. No bags of salt, snow blowers and (maybe) no snowplows. I haven’t seen any yet and Chris said he saw a road crew shoveling the snow. I have, however, seen two cars with snow chains on their wheels.

Remembering last winter when there was, maybe, two inches of snow, and how late I was to class because I couldn’t find a taxi, I left early for campus and was still 15 minutes late. A ten minute drive turned into a 45-minute adventure of me trudging through the slush, snow and ice, weaving around the pedestrians, the cars, and the gobs of people who thought they could ride a bike or an electric scooter in the slush, snow and ice. How I didn’t see any accidents (besides a few people slipping off their bikes) let alone dead bodies is a miracle. You know it was particularly bad because on Dulong Street, a narrow two-lane street, the snow forced traffic to slow and actually stay in the appropriate lane instead of zipping in and out like usual. Har har!

About when I was ready to give up hailing a cab that wasn’t already squished full of people, one finally came by that (luckily) had the front seat still open. And luckily the passengers already in it were heading in the direction of campus. At lunch time, I lucked out on the trip home finding a cab pretty quickly, only the fare had doubled. Whatevs. I was cold wet and had to pee and probably wouldn’t find anyone else for another hour.

This driver was acting like it hadn’t snowed at all, never mind that the snow had changed from insignificant ice flakes to heavy, wet flakes. He honked his horn every other second and weaved in and out of traffic that had, mercifully, slowed (and quieted) down. Vans that look like rectangles on wheels were getting bogged down with spinning wheels, another taxi got stuck in a snow drift. But yet, this guy plowed on. Happily, I was dropped off before he either slid into a snow bank or another car.

Under conditions which, in any sane country, would have resulted in school closings, I said “screw this crap” and cancelled my afternoon class.

Thursday morning, after the snow let up, Chris and I took pictures of around the neighborhood. We guestimate at least 8 inches of snow. Probably more. Now I need to get some snow boots.

Check out the photos at my flickr page. http://www.flickr.com/photos/christinabrandon/

By the time Chris and I got back from the KFC Sunday evening around 6:30, the water had been turned back on. Yippee! After we heard the 1st-floor neighbor’s washing machine buzzing, we jogged up the five flights just to make sure. Only… I had left the shower switched to the "on" position (presumably since Saturday night) so, whenever they turned on the water, our shower had been running and half-spraying out the open window. Woops. Water also covered our bathroom floor. Not because of out-of-control shower spray, no no, but because half the water that drains from the shower ends up seeping out of the base of the tub. Also, the bathtub was coated with red clay-dirt or whatever it is that gets into the water supply. Double Woops.

But that’s all back to normal only… the past few days saw a thirty-degree temperature drop from pleasant 60s (Sunday) to nasty 20s (tomorrow). And our heat isn’t on yet! Why don’t we turn it on ourselves, you ask? Because the Doodle government decides when to turn on the heat. The word on the street is that that won’t happen until the 15th. For the past couple days Chris and I have been hiding in our bedroom where it’s a comfortable temperature, though my nose is constantly cold, instead of the living room and kitchen where you need a down jacket to keep from shaking. Downside– the bedroom smells like fried noodles and farts because even cracking the door for five seconds will allow precious heat to escape.

So now I know why the Doodles wear 15 shirts and a coat to class– because they’ll shiver too hard to be able to write in the drafty, heatless classrooms. Even now, I’m starting to feel like Ralphie from A Christmas Story. You know, when he’s dressed in so much warm clothes (plus a long scarf and a snowsuit) that he can’t put his arms down? That’s me tomorrow morning at 19 degrees. Waddle- running to class.

Last night, sometime before 7:00, I was just going about my business, went to wash my hands and instead of a spray of water, there was this nasty gurgle gurgle, like Frankenstein wheezing, coming from the tap.

Oh, no. Checked the kitchen sink, the shower, the toilet again and all wheezed. No water.

This has happened a couple times before, though during the day time and during the week. I suppose because the repairmen were fixing something in the building and they needed to shut off the water, but on a friggin’ Saturday night?

Since no water meant no noodles or rice for dinner, we made grilled-cheese sandwiches, and added to the mounting stack of dirty dishes waiting in the sink. Surely, surely, the water would be back on in a couple hours? That’s how long it lasted before.

When 10:00 rolled around, the hour that many of the apartments around here darken, we knew it was a lost cause. That didn’t stop me from hoping that when I had to use the bathroom at 5:30 that I’d be able to flush the toilet and wash my hands.

Around 8:00 this morning, we were woken by a terrible banging, metal on metal, that sounded like it was coming from our living room. Maybe that was the repairman working and when the banging stops, maybe that means the problem is fixed and we have water again!

It’s almost noon and still we have no water. Though we did manage to get ahold of the ever-helpful Sir James of Doodleland who said they were working on the "water heater," which we assumed he meant the radiator because the only water heaters are in the individual apartments in the showers (no reason why the whole building’s water supply would be shut off). That would also explain the banging. So, Sir James, when will the water come back on? I don’t know he, said. He would find out and call us back… that was over an hour ago.

Here’s hoping we can take a shower and boil water and wash dishes and flush the toilet today!

Me in my new glasses and haircut! Gorgeous!

Originally uploaded by a little coffee

Ta daaaaaaaa!

I have my new glasses! Picking them up was a breeze compared to the process of trying to choose the frames and get the correct prescription.

First, I had to get through the phone call telling me they were ready for pick up. As I was about to hang up on them thinking they were just another random Doodle that calls us sometimes by accident (we think), it clicked and I managed to stutter out “I go tomorrow. Tomorrow,” in Chinese a couple times before they woman on the other end went, “ah ah ah” in understanding.

So I arrive with Chris in tow and the helpful young woman recognizes me immediately and pulls out the new glasses which, amazingly fit perfectly. That’s never happened to me before. No need for adjusting! Looking at myself in the mirror, I’m surprised that the navy-blue frames are much bigger than what I remembered… then I realized this was the first clear look I had of myself with these glasses (duh).

So on with business: picking out a new glasses case and a mint green lens rag. The helpful young woman demonstrates how to properly clean the glasses with water (no lens solution in spritzer bottles here) with the lens rag, I pay and I’m ready to go.

Something is weird though: my world is now outlined in baby blue! With the the fluorescent lights in the mall, now seemingly uber bright with the new glasses, I’m walking around looking down at the bright blue outline instead of where I’m going but luckily manage to not run into any racks of clothes or trip off the escalator.

After a week in these new glasses, I’ve adjusted to my new, blue-rimmed world.

Today I was finally fed up enough with this lingering wave-curl in my hair to have it all cut off. I printed out a picture of Michelle Williams’ recent cover on Vogue, handed it to my regular hairstylist and she went to town with the scissors. She snipped a bit more in the front than what I (tried) to tell her, and when she kept finicking with the front while largely ignoring the still-longish strands in the back, I was afraid I’d end up with a Doodlified mullet. As you can see, my head is almost naked but (whew) no mullet.

Gorgeous, no?