I Wish Someone Would Tell Me...
|*Not the actual rabbit seen by the author, but similar to it.|
-Why a person can age for forty-some-odd years without feeling significantly different from year to year and then, one day, all at once, notice about 10 new, unpleasant, age-related changes. I recognize that there has probably been a certain amount of denial going on, but it has been happy, healthy denial that hurts no one. Getting hit with such a huge load of harsh reality all at once just seems cruel. I would just like to say that this has been bad for my already-fragile psyche and causes me to speak harshly to my loved ones and jump at loud noises.
...how it is that, in an apartment roughly a third of the size of our home in the US, the children still lose their socks. Where could they be going? And while I'm at it, I'd like to know why, after what seems like a thousand years of reminding them, they still fail to turn their socks right side out before putting them in the laundry. Those of you with teenage boys will understand why the prospect of handling the dirty socks in order to turn them right side out before laundering is about as attractive to me as dipping my hands into battery acid.
...why there was a rabbit sitting in the middle of the main pathway that runs through the greenspace grounds around our apartment building. (And, no, I had not been drinking.) Now, mind you, this was not your garden-variety greyish-brownish, scrappy wild, streetwise rabbit. This was a coddled-looking white, angora rabbit with tasteful black appointments, clearly an indoor pet, and yet, it was sitting in the middle of the outdoors, without a responsible human in sight. What I can't understand is, how in the world does a pet rabbit get outside of a high-rise apartment in the first place? Let's just say, for the sake of argument, you have a house rabbit that runs free in your apartment and it makes a dash for freedom when you open the apartment door. I can see that happening. What I don't see happening is: a) an elevator door that's open and ready to go down at the very same moment when the rabbit makes his break for freedom, and; b) the other elevator passengers simply taking it in stride as an enormous angora rabbit bounds into the car and letting him ride down without taking some sort of action. And on top of it, wouldn't you notice that your rabbit had made a break for it and give chase instead of letting it head down the elevator? Anyway, regardless of how he got down there, while we do have some nice greenspace around the apartment, this is a fairly limited area, surrounded by traffic, and quite unsuited to the support of any type of wildlife (except for pigeons). In this case, the odds of survival seem extremely low, especially for an animal that seems to have been bred more for its silkiness than for its sharp wits and survival skills. These observations were fully supported when he hopped slowly toward the shrubs and then turned and darted purposefully into the parking garage and disappeared into the gloom.
...who are the people hired by Korean (and Japanese, and Chinese) toy and novelty manufacturers to come up with the English comments, phrases, and words that appear on virtually every item that one finds for sale in Korean toy shops? I would be more than happy to provide basic, uninspired English text for a reasonable fee with virtually no danger whatsoever of having my employers produce toys covered in either; a) nonsense or b) something totally inappropriate. It might not be particularly catchy, but they could rest assured that it wouldn't be stupid, or worse. By worse, I mean, of course, obscene, and I submit as evidence the following:
For my non-American readers, let me just state that 'poony' is a very rude word indeed, and certainly not one you would want emblazoned on your little girl's toys. Of course, in all fairness, it's possible that the person doing the English translation was not familiar with this linguistic subtlety of American English slang, and it's my guess that Koreans wouldn't know either, so no harm done - in theory.
...how it is that apparently, everyone in the free world is planning on spending their winter holidays in Phuket, but none of them know me and therefore cannot provide me with reliable hotel recommendations? Of course, the point is now moot, since it is so close to Christmas (only 11 weeks) that, naturally, everything that seems desirable on TripAdvisor has been - naturally - booked, leaving me as alternatives either a) 'boutique' resorts (where 'boutique' means 'you can't afford this'; or b) 'budget' accomodation (where 'budget' means 'shared bathroom at the end of the hall.')
....why it is that Korean pedestrians feel the need to put their hands up at you (in sort of a 'stop' gesture) when they dart in a death-defying manner in front of your car? I do not see the point of this at all. If you, as a pedestrian, are going to dart in front of a car (and this is standard procedure in Seoul, where people treat cars more like large, annoying moose than like the enormous rolling hulks of deadly metal that they really are), it makes no sense to me to bother to hold up your hand. I mean, if the person in the car is going to hit you, presumably this will happen whether or not your hand is held up in the 'stop' position. And if your hand is not held up, does that mean that the driver has free rein to plow right into you? I mean, it's not like the driver sees the pedestrian and says, 'Well, since she's not holding her hand up, I shall hit her." For whatever reason, this system seems to persist in Seoul. I see Koreans using this technique all the time, and they never get hit. Who knows. Maybe it's some type of force field.
Perhaps I can learn to use it to help me find those socks.