Mama Kim misses me. She has two pet names for me: honeypig (ggool-dwaeji) and dog-that-eats-poop (ddong-gangaji). I prefer honeypig. She knows this, so she mostly calls me dog-that-eats-poop.
I called her the other day and I don't know if it's just one of those mother-daughter things but, by coincidence we both started crying at the same time. We spent two minutes just crying like babies to each other.
Dudes, I'm homesick. I miss New York. I miss New Jersey. I even miss Mama Kim.
I miss you guys -- I miss how you used to buy me drinks all night. Remember how you used to do that? Can we get back to that when I come home?
I don't know when I'm coming home. I sometimes dread calling my parents because their first question after "Who is this?" is always "When you come home? We miss you lot." I use diversionary tactics to avoid answering, e.g. "APPA! David just told me he's gay!!" (David's my baby brother. He's not gay, but he accessorizes well and he can quote from The Notebook like nobody's business.)
Some things I'm considering for the future:
1) going to Australia for a few months before heading to Korea to teach Engrish;
2) going home to live with my parents (aigo -- a Korean expression of anguish); or
3) going to Germany to live in Patrick's pocket.
Some things I'll be doing in the immediate future:
1) eating dinner;
2) going on a Skype date with Patrick (it's really precious -- I get all dressed up and do my hair and makeup and even spray perfume on my crotch) (kidding! I can't afford perfume right now) (also I feel I should add that my crotch smells like heaven, with or without perfume); and
3) flying to Christchurch on Tuesday to roadtrip around the south island for a monthish with the best group of cunts this side of the equator.
I'll have internet access intermittently for the next month. Please send me e-Valentines. Let me know you still love me. I'm needy like that.