jeudi 28 février 2008

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

mercredi 27 février 2008

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.

mardi 26 février 2008

The same shrimp...

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


lundi 25 février 2008

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."