Tutorial

Okay, so everyone tells me they can't figure out how to comment on my blog. Well, you'll have no more excuses after this. Here's what to do:

Click on "0 commentaires" below. Under the words "Vous ne disposez pas d'un compte Google?" Click on the link that looks like this: Inscrivez-vous ici.

A form will pop up. You will only ever have to fill it out ONCE to create a user name and password. And don't worry, you won't be sent emails or anything. The form is in English.

After you create a user name (your email address) and a password, you can leave a comment. The next time you comment (because you will be doing so quite frequently, now that you haven't any excuse) you will type your email in where it says: Nom d'utilisateur and your password in where it says Mot de passe. See, aren't you happy to be learning some French with me?

On a more serious note, thank you very much to those of you who do comment AND to those of you who don't. It means a lot to me that you read my stories. I love hearing from you though as do my other readers, I'm sure.

Starring as....

Suave Frenchman... Alain Andrieux. Playing the role of wandering-minded American who doesn't understand the French conversation between photographer and suave frenchman...Hillary George

The Visit

It's not just that I have a lot of time on my hands, being sick. OR that I'm just writing a million entries so that you'll be as bored as I am staying home. It's also that I haven't truly been able to talk properly since last Thursday (due to an almost complete loss of my voice) and I guess I must usually talk a lot because I seem to have a lot to say. Besides which I've read 8 books, all with different styles of writing, all of which want then for me to write in that style. Because that's what happens to me when I read books.

ANYWAY, as promised, here is how the visit to Dr. Hyun went. I walked in, and the girl working at the desk immediately knew who I was (because I had called a few minutes before and it must have been apparent that I wasn't Korean when I continued to speak in English no matter what language she tried on me.) She handed me the paper work which had English translations hand-written in under the Korean words (last, first, social security, etc). Then she asked me if I had any insurance. But she said INsurance instead of inSURance. And somehow, in my phlegm-filled head, I thought she was asking if I had any INjuries. So, I said, "yes, as a matter of fact, that's why I'm here" (because I pulled a stomach muscle coughing and wanted medicine to help me not cough so much). Well, we finally got it figured out and she spent the rest of my visit practicing saying inSURance to my utter humiliation.

I know Koreans tend to be germ-conscious because they walk around the neighborhood wearing stylish paint-masks over their mouths. So lately, I've avoided going in to most shops because my voice makes me sound, well, full of germs. But there wasn't much I could do to avoid contaminating the doctor's office (after all, that is sort of why I was there). Since most people were on one side of the waiting room, I sat as far on the other as possible. There was, however, one gentleman seated a few feet away. It wasn't long before I had my first hacking attack. The man promptly vacated his seat and stood on the other side of the room. A few minutes later, a woman came in and sat in the now vacant seat near me. She, too, moved when I next coughed. I wish I could scare people out of parking spaces that way.

After the insurance bit, I remembered to listen to the talk around me with a more open mind so that I might not embarrass myself again. And when they called Gorgee Ilar from the waiting room, I knew right away it was me.

I babbled on to the doctor, but got no indication from him as to whether or not he was understanding me. When he pushed me down onto the little table and started poking at my stomach though, I figured he did. I figured there was no mistaking the almost screamed "ow!" when he got to the problem spot. But then he motioned for me to sit up and started pulling at my shoulder when he didn't think I was responding fast enough. And then I wasn't so sure he'd got it. I mean, it's hard to sit up quickly when you've pulled a stomach muscle.

He spoke to his assistant in Korean (so he DID talk!) and handed me a prescription. On my way out the door he looked at me, puzzled, and said, "how you find me?"

Of course, after getting in and out of the doctors office in about 10 minutes (none of that 30 minutes waiting in an over-air conditioned office with a paper gown on after they've called you in and checked your vitals for the doc to show up), I spent nearly an hour at the Ralph's pharmacy. The pharmacist couldn't read the prescription (I always wonder how they ever can) and so he called the doctor. But the pharmacist, with a thick Spanish accent and the doctor, with his KorEnglish took a while to get things figured out.

Eventually, I went home with codeine-laced cough syrup, some heavy duty ibuprofen, and anti-biotics. The pharmacist explained to me that the doctor said I have an infection in my lungs. Otherwise known as pneumonia. No wonder they ushered me out so quick.

Well, pneumonia or no pneumonia, I had a craving for steak when I finally parked my car at 11 am not too terribly far from the Korea Galleria (where there is a grocery store that has the most AMAZING and cheap and fresh, fresh, fresh wild caught sea food, but I digress). I braved the evil looks people gave me for coughing in the grocery store and bought a piece of rib eye for $1.85. Yes, I, Hillary will-not-eat-anything-that's-not-from-the-farmers-market-or-gourmet-butcher George bought a piece of steak for $1.85. And, in spite of the half-hour I spent chewing each bite (I figured well-done was the only way $1.85 meant should be cooked), it wasn't too bad.

In fact, with my cannellini and rainbow chard, it was a nice little lunch.



And yes, I do have other dishes even if I eat pretty much everything out of the same pasta bowl.

Walking in LA part II

The title walking in LA reminded me of when I was walking in LA on Monday. From the downtown central library to the metro stop. A man with a wig (or maybe it was his real hair?) that was fuzzy, blonde, long, and curled like something George Washington might have worn to court, came up to me. He was perhaps mentally ill or maybe drunk. His accent was Scottish or British or fake, but I had seen him bothering someone else a moment before. The man asked me if he could ask me a question. Tired, sick, and ready to go home, I looked him in the eye (which was about two feet away from my face) and said, "no." And he didn't.

That was definitely not the same Hillary that two months ago would have crossed the street to avoid passing by a possibly mentally ill or homeless person. This job has been good for me already.

Walking in LA

This morning I woke up with such pain in my stomach and having such an awful cough that I decided to get myself to the doctor. I don't currently have a primary care physician (was using the school doctor for the past few years) so I looked one up on the blue cross website. I live in Korea town. There are lots of doctors. Korean doctors. But I assumed, if they made it through medical school, they must speak English fairly well. We'll get to that later. SO, at 9:15 this morning I left my house to go to the doctors office less than 50 yards from my front door (no appointment necessary.) However, between here and there I walked by my car and realized it needed to be moved (street cleaning today, starting at 10). SO, I (less than 10 feet from my dr's door) got in my car and tried to park it. I drove around and around. Every spot on every side of every street that did not have street cleaning was taken. Finally, I found a 1 hour spot in which to park that was only about 4 blocks from the doctor's office (and my house). SO, I parked, and walked, and 20 minutes after I left my house, I arrived.

Of course, by the time I finished, went through a pharmacy fiasco (next entry) and made it back to the car to move it (again), I had exceeded my hour. By a lot. I was sure that on top of the $140 I spent going to the dr and paying for my drugs, I would have a ticket. But, the parking gods were not SO mean, and I sneaked by. I drove around. And around. (Don't people go to work? Why are their cars here at 11am on Wednesday?) I cursed Orin again and again because his car (the one he doesn't use anymore because he got a new one, but hasn't sold yet) was in one of the 5 available parking spots behind the Korea Galleria where there is never street cleaning, and no parking restrictions. Finally, I found a spot that was...(I hope) JUST over 15 feet away from the fire hydrant on the corner. Perhaps I will be paying that ticket after all.

The same shrimp...

were also good with cannellini, chervil, and some very green olive oil:

What comes of too much mother goose

1.
"Can ne'er I go?"
To me she said, "yes."
"where'er the wind blow?"
and she told me to guess.
So I decided to try.
"To a place where it's dry?"

2.
She was tall
with brown hair.
Her waist small,
My heart's snare.
I was sure
to love her.

3.
"Where are we going?"
He said to me.
I said, "I am showing
you the way to the sea."
"Ha, ha!" he laughed as his ashes said,
"that's the perfect place to scatter the dead."

4.
Her scarf was red
though her hair so white.
It blew from her head
though the wind was light.
I picked it up, took it to her as I said,
"Kiss me if thou wantest thy scarf of red."

Bounty

The bounty in my kitchen after an hour and a half walk to the Hollywood farmers market this weekend was incredible:




This is raw wildflower honey from the market, not spun, but the texture of marshmellow cream with the lightest, creamiest flavor with just the slightest floral hint. It has blessed many a cup of fresh mint tea and lemon ginger tea as I'm trying to recover from this horrid flu/cough thing.


Here we have thinly sliced shallots cooked with pancetta with shitake mushrooms, sugar snap peas, and basil.


And here a stroke of kitchen brilliance caught me and I made this utterly inspired salad of pink grapefruit, avocado, and shrimp brined and then cooked in a hot hot hot cast iron skillet with cumin, coriander, oregano, white pepper, fennel seeds and garlic. The dressing was apple cider vinegar from The Apple Farm (more on that when Molly sends photos. Hint, hint, Molly Dear), grapefruit zest, shallots, and olive oil. All served up with a hard apple cider, also from The Apple Farm.

Lucky Orin!

ViLLain “L”

Love and Love and LoneLiness
The L’s are kiLLing me
The nation died of this and Less

Fatter, fatter, reach grotesque
Or drink Lemon verbena tea
Love and Love and LoneLiness

Be reLigious, go confess
Spend your Living on psychiatry
The nation died of this and Less

4am, internet express
worLd-wide pornography
Love and Love and LoneLiness

Discover who you are or guess
Do not ever need
The nation died of this and Less

Rich mans sickness
Is the big “D”
But, Love and Love and LoneLiness
The nation died of this and Less.

Millie and the What Ifs

Millie wanted to move her backpack so Amanda would have a place to sit. But she thought, “What if Amanda doesn’t want sit next to me?”

Millie left her backpack on the seat.

Millie wanted to help Rory pick up the marbles he dropped. But she thought, “What if someone thinks I LIKE Rory?”

Millie did not help.

Millie drew a picture for her teacher. It was a picture of tulips. Tulips were her teacher’s favorite flower. But she thought, “What if she throws my picture in the trash?”

Millie folded the picture up and stuffed it in her backpack.

Millie wanted to play dodge ball. But she thought, “What if I try to catch the ball and it hits me in the face instead?” Michael asked if she wanted to play.

“No,” said Millie. Even though inside she was screaming, “yes, yes, yes!”

Millie heard some kids talking about their pets. She wanted to tell them about her horse named Tony, her dog named Dude, her six rabbits, and her 24 guinea pigs. But she thought, “What if they say, ‘so what’?”

Millie did not tell them anything.

It was raining the next day. Everyone had to play inside. Some girls decided to play Chinese checkers.

“Who wants to be green?” Said Alisha.

“We need another person,” said Mandy.

“Okay, who else wants to play, Shaun? Jason?” Alisha asked.

“Tell HER to play. She’s not doing anything,” said Shaun.

Millie’s face burned red and hot. She liked to play Chinese checkers. She was pretty good. But, she thought, “What if everyone knows I was too shy to ask if I could play before?”

Millie pretended to read a book.

“Millie’s not very nice. She never wants to play with anyone. She doesn’t even talk to anyone,” Alisha said quietly to Mandy. But not too quietly.

Millie pretended she had to go to the bathroom.

For a long time.

Millie wondered if other kids thought what ifs. SHE had never thought of the what ifs that could happen if she didn’t move her backpack or help pick up marbles, or play on the playground. Maybe other kids didn’t think what ifs at all. Or maybe they thought good what ifs, like what if I play baseball, and I make a home run?

Millie saw Janina walking home in the rain with no umbrella. Millie had a blue umbrella with a duck on the handle. She wanted to share her umbrella with Janina, but she thought, “What if she laughs because I have a duck umbrella? What if I say her name wrong and she thinks I’m stupid? What if I look dumb because I am using an umbrella and it isn’t even raining that hard?”

Millie remembered what happened at school that day. She didn’t want anyone to think she wasn’t nice. She started walking faster to catch up to Janina. She made herself think good “what ifs”. “What if Janina would love to share an umbrella with me? What if she thinks I’m nice? What if she wants to be my friend?”

“Um, hi…” said Millie, but Janina didn’t even hear her. She kept walking. Millie was embarrassed. But she tried again. The words were stuck in her throat. She tapped Janina on the shoulder.

“Oh, hey!” said Janina. “You’re Millie, right? That’s a cool umbrella.”

“Do you want to share it with me?” Millie asked.

“Sure, thanks! I forgot my umbrella today. I can hold it, since I’m taller.”

Millie let Janina hold the umbrella. She was so glad to help, she didn’t even mind that half of her was getting all wet.

Eight Years Later

Brown and white our bellies press together
Your breath a mix of smoke and Crest toothpaste
I breathe in comfort but each breath is laced
Richmond and Virginia present ever

What happiness it is to let you go
And find that you come back to me again
From time to time to time the world will spin
And when it settles, when it stops, we’ll know

That whether we are far or just nearby
Tea we’ll have with milk and yours with sugar
Rent a car that drives us to forever

A gondola can take us to the sky
Ripe with life and soft with age and laughter
Brown and white our bellies press together

In French class, I am learning the passé composé. We were given a poem full of verbs in this form which we were to decipher and learn. After some work, I believe I've deciphered the poem. It is probably very famous, but it is my first time hearing of it. It shows loneliness simply and concretely in a way I connected with. I will also give you my best attempt at a very rough translation. I believe there may be some fancy word play that is going right over my head. If any of you French speakers care to inform me, please do.

Déjeuner du matin

Il a mis le café
Dans le tasse
Il a mis le lait
Dans la tasse de café
Il a mis le sucre
Dans le café au lait
Avec la petite cuiller

Il a tourné
Il a bu le café au lait
Et il a reposé la tasse
Sans me parler
Il allumé
Une cigarette
Il a fait des ronds
Avec la fumée
Il a mis les cendres
Dans le cendrier
Sans me parler
Sans me regarder
Il s'est levé
Il a mis
Son chapeau sur sa tête
Il a mis son manteau de pluie
Parce qu'il pleuvait
Et il est parti
Sous la pluie
Sans une parole
Sans me regarder
Et moi j'ai pris
Ma tête dans ma main
Et j'ai pleuré.
--Jacques Prévert, Paroles

Breakfast

He put the coffee
In the cup
He put the milk
In the cup of coffee
He put the sugar
In the coffee with milk
With a small spoon

He stirred
He drank the coffee with milk
And he put down the cup
Without talking to me
He lit a cigarette
He made circles
With the smok
He put the ashes
In the fireplace
Without talking to me
Without looking at me
He got up
He put
His hat on his head
He put on his raincoat
Because it was raining
And he went out
In the rain
Without a word
Without looking at me
And I, I took
My head in my hands
And I cried.

Today I saw a Raindrop

A perfect sphere unblemished by the filth and sadness of the city it was in. It reflected clearly, with uncommon understanding, the world, and somehow made it brighter. I wonder, as it rolls down my windshield, how it managed to stay so whole. I see, in this tiny raindrop, a universe of sound, of rhythm, thought. And I thank a god I don’t believe in that I am seeing raindrops on my windshield where once I felt tears on my face.