Friday, August 8, 2008

To use a cliche most apt...

This week has been an emotional roller coaster. There is no other way to describe it--unless I compare it to the way one might feel if she were having the best s*x of her life on a flimsy raft in the ocean, surrounded by hungry great white sharks. On her period. With a hurricane on the way, but the promise of a meal personally prepared by Emeril should she make it alive to shore.

Sorry for the bizarre imagery--I'm really tired.

After posting my somewhat depressed blog on Monday about how I don't want to blog anymore (I'm so ridiculous when I'm down--sorry guys), I got a call from the friend of a friend who works for the Daegu public schools that I can bring my documents down and that they had my contract ready to sign. Finally. Pursing the job at the Daegu Foreign Language High School has been a bureaucratic nightmare, sucking away precious hours of my life for the last three months.

Then she gave me the news that was the best sex and promise of a good meal in that chaotic metaphor I attempted a few moments ago--they are allowing me to go home, ticket gratis as per contractual obligations, for the week between contracts (I was supposed to stay in country and do some orientation activities, technically unpaid... *sigh*). Suffice it to say that after I overcame the shock of it, I was ready to bear the woman's surrogate babies should she need a spare womb. I was that grateful. And happy. I AM GOING HOME!!! FUCKING AWESOME!!!

I called my parents to tell them. They were ecstatic, as I was. And then they dropped the big c-word that was the fear for the last two weeks, since Mom told me Dad was being tested. Then we spent the next hour on the phone discussing how early it was caught and how he has no external symptoms and how it's really nothing to worry about at this point. All those things you say.

Sometimes I wonder about the precious balance of the universe. Had I heard that word (I'm not going to type it here) the day before, when the earliest it looked like I could go back to DC was January if I took the job (a job I really wanted) and things were all very up-in-the-air about my contract even though it starts in about three weeks, I would have been despondent. Lost. Hopeless.

Since these two things dropped in my lap, I've had a series of emotional aftershocks that accompany the "get all the other stuff done so that you can do the big things" mode I've been in--booking tickets despite NWA's charging my credit card twice so that it went over the limit and wouldn't (for a time) let me book the tickets, arranging the last few documents I need for a VISA, letting my good pal and now co-worker William run around securing better apartments for us before he heads home for a few weeks, saying goodbye to close friends I might never see again (this does NOT get easier the second time around, just in case you were wondering), telling Sa Beom Nim about my plans for next year, celebrating the good news of my job and getting to go home with Min Gi. All this while working intensive schedule at work. No wonder I'm about to collapse from exhaustion.

And tomorrow I have yet another day of minutiae ahead of me as I go take tests to prove to the Korean government that I don't have AIDS or take drugs, look at the apartments William's realtor lined up, get a new handphone because this one belongs to Gwen, and plan the four days (that's right--it's only four full days) I have in America. But Min Gi has agreed to be my chauffeur and translator for the day, as he is free to do so. I didn't want to ask him (I did so because William said the realtor was afraid of me not being able to speak Korean--*sigh*), but I'm really glad I did. I kind of need the emotional support even more than the practical assistance (although the latter is exceptionally useful).

So am I feeling better than I was? Maybe. There is that promise of a good meal at the shore (and maybe even a sailboat to take me there), but right now I'm still in a precarious situation.

I must be at least a little better as I once again feel like writing.


  1. Good to see you, hon. Sorry about your dad, congrats on the job.

    What a trite comment, I know. Sorry.

  2. So, Diana, when will you be home? And are you going to be able to go to Renn fest? That would be awesome! I will be in Sykesville Aug 21-24...I know we probably don't have time for a visit, even if our dates coincide...but maybe...just maybe...let me know. I'm so happy for ya, honey. Your dad will be great! I know it seems very bleak, but with you coming home, think how that will improve his spirits.
    Take care, Nancy
    I'm in Maine after a likewise roller coaster week losing a student/friend/ex-Marine/police officer in a hit/run accident. I spent two days at their house helping, being superfluous, but maybe doing some good. And tomorrow, we lay my aunt to I know about the sharks in the ocean and the flimsy raft and don't even go to periods...gah.

  3. Hi Nancy! I'm meeting friends at RennFest on August 24. If you're interested in joining, I'd love to see you! Send me an e-mail.

    Amanda--what else is there to say? Comments are not trite when sincerely meant.



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