I’ve been AWOL so long that my dog doesn’t know what to do with himself back in the “office.” He pesters me for a minute or so before finally getting the hint.
Sorry.
Immersing myself in k-dramas left little room in my interest banks for much of anything else other than the bare necessities: eat, sleep, shower, vacuum, laundry, CPAP, make Danica her favorite Indian curry puffs…
Also, Bungee suffered his first bout of anal gland pain. He may have to be expressed by the vet regularly.
To help, I’ve taken up walking him again as the winter frost has finally thawed. My legs can barely hold up after a week, but what can I do? I’m his person.
It’s not always been a walk in the park.
He pulls. He doesn’t have any recall. He prefers hunting for dog poop and children’s snacks in the playground/park to running around enjoying the view. He really hates the leash.
Today, though, we found ourselves in the elementary school playground (spring break). I let him run loose, and he actually romped around, chasing after birds and frolicking like a normal dog. I don’t think he ate any poop, either. When I called him to go, he followed happily.
:: excuse me, he just came over for pets ::
Currently, the popular k-drama “Reply” series has sucked up all my attention. “Reply 1988,” “…1994,” and “…1997” by teleplay writer Lee Woo-jung and director Shin Won-ho take me back to a warm and fuzzy past I never knew I missed so much.
I never had the kind of gang featured in these k-dramas, yet, they feel so familiar to me. Even the setting and the culture, despite my having moved away to the States at age three.
I went backwards, no pun intended, starting with the last series (“…1988”), simply because it’s the only one Netflix has. I hunted around and found the other two on Tubi; I’m deep into “…1994” now.
“…1994” is funnier, but “…1988” has my heart, with priceless, unforced chemistry amongst the cast members.
I didn’t think I’d ever get back to blogging. Truthfully, if I didn’t have an hour to kill before eating my first intermittent meal, I wouldn’t even be here now.
So there.
When I’m not watching the “Reply” series, I’m watching Bill & Lisa’s travel vlogs on YouTube, trying not to get irritated.
They don’t seem to be very well-versed in food, beyond elementary appreciation
They like Disney a little too much
They frequent Aulani Disney in Ko Olina for $800+ a night
They don’t seem to care about the devastating impact of mindless tourism (like Disney’s Aulani) to local culture
They tend to order the same boring food I wouldn’t order if my life depended on it
They like kalua pork, fish, fried rice, creme brulee, shave ice, and coconut shrimp, and won’t really try anything new
They take off on two-day trips to Waikiki at a moment’s notice, blowing hundreds of thousands of dollars on expensive hotel stays without thinking twice
Their idea of a good time is a visit to Shakey’s Pizza Parlor
They think Duke’s breakfast buffet (congealed cheese omelette, broken-yolk Benedict, French toast, bacon, scrambled eggs) is amazing
They make me want to get in the food vlog game and show them how it’s done. I’ve been doing this in my sleep since I was a child getting yelled at for taking useless pictures of my food.
And, I know how to pronounce Hawaiian words.
My son James seems to be having a blast tooling around Europe with his own “Reply” gang. He only reached out once to Snapchat “the best banh-mi” he ever had in Berlin early on last week.
At first, for just a mili-second, I worried he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between Berlin and Seattle. I mean, what makes a place so special has always been my mental pursuit whenever traveling. (I used to think they just moved the set around whenever I got on a plane.)
But that’s me, not him.
He summarized his impressions of Berlin nicely, mentioning the architecture, history, and of course, the people (there are more Turkish immigrants than actual Germans living in the once-forbidden city).
His friends post more regularly, so I know they’ve been to Barcelona and Switzerland. He only has two more days left. I hope he and his friends can make it down to Italy to see their other friend, who’s stationed in the military in Sicily (I think).
I wish I had a gang. I did, sporadically. But they were more friends of convenience.
Alas, I live vicariously.
Maybe one day, before I die, I can go to Europe with my mom. She would love Paris.
Pics below of my son’s trip…