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It's official: I'm going to the Philippines during the second week of December. I just dropped way too much money on a plane ticket today, so there's no backing out now (I'm cringing as I'm typing this). Given the unexpected high-cost of the ticket, this had better be the best trip of my life. Because, hey, a girl needs a break every now and then, right? Ugh.

This weekend was full of Halloween celebration and it was a wild time. I went to a Halloween party on Saturday dressed as a________(you fill in the blank). Whatever I was, I was dead and blond. In a shoddy attempt at putting together a costume at the last minute, I ended up wearing a blond wig on my head and white powder on my face. "America's Next Chopped Model?" you may be wondering. You got it. I, of course, found it exceptionally funny, but not everyone did. So, my costume changed multiple times during the night (depending on who I was around), ranging from "Dead Victoria Beckham" (so morbid), to "a dead blond" (not much better). I admit it: I was running low on creativity. I now know, however, that I simply can't pull off the blond look. The wig made me look dead, even before I applied the five pounds of baby powder it took to make me look good and dead (my skin is still recovering, two days later). Sadly, I didn't capture my blond moment on camera, so you'll just have to imagine it.

Random paragraph #3: I got stuck in an elevator for the first time in my life today. Granted, it was only stuck for a grand total of one minute, but it was long enough to nearly make me pee my pants right then and there. I was leaving my apartment building for work this afternoon when suddenly, between the 9th and 10th floors, the elevator jolted to a halt. I didn't actually start to panic until the your-life-is-in-peril alarm went buzzing loudly through the elevator shaft. I shot a look at the Korean lady who was in the elevator with me to find that she, too, appeared to be freaking out. Regardless, I was glad she was there with me, otherwise I would have passed out in panic (I have an old fear of elevators that only resurfaces when the situation calls for it... and this situation called for it). Fortunately, the elevator jolted into movement again and flung its doors open on the 9th floor. The Korean lady and I ran out of there as if we were running from a pack of rabid dogs. Of course, I'm far too lazy to actually take the stairs in any situation, so I made a quick recovery and pressed the "down" button on the elevator across from the rabid one. Needless to say, I made it safely to the first floor. It wasn't, however, a great start to my Monday.

And with those fascinating stories told, I'm off to class. Happy Monday.

Rickety Elevators and Random Photos

I just came home a few minutes ago, after spending a few fantastic hours watching the original Pride and Prejudice with a few girlfriends. After concluding the first disc of the movie, I decided to head home a little early, in a halfhearted attempt at making it to bed at a reasonable hour. It’s late, I was feeling a little tired, and, naturally, I didn’t feel like taking the stairs up to my fourth-floor apartment after the short taxi ride home (because taking a taxi can be so physically draining). I opted for the elevator, since one of the two elevators in my building was already waiting for me on the first floor, so I climbed into its open doors, eager to get upstairs and get ready for bed. As the doors began to shut, I was suddenly jolted from my exhausted trance by the sound of the doors screeching and jerking to a hastier-than-usual close. Now, it’s true that I live in one of the older, less impressive apartment buildings in Haeundae and that our elevators seem a bit sketchy in comparison to most, but I’ve never had trouble with them nor have I felt threatened within their four very confined walls. On this particular occasion, however, the doors not only slammed shut ungracefully, but the elevator itself jerked into its usual upward motion with a horrific screeching sound that I imagine might be compared to the screams of a cat being beaten to death. I concluded that this sound was undoubtedly coming from the cables above and below me, holding the metal box in which I was so precariously standing in midair. I didn’t have much time to contemplate this thought, however, because I suddenly became even more aware of the earthquake-like jerkiness of the elevator’s movement, making it difficult for me to stand upright and forcing me to place my hand on the wall for support. Just as I was beginning to feel the urge to panic and start screaming for help, the elevator came to a screeching halt (literally) at the fourth floor, and its doors went squealing open for me to make my hasty exit. Note to self: Just take the darn stairs next time.

Now I’m left alone in my apartment, feeling wide awake from the exhilaration that comes with the thought of being stuck in an elevator by myself—or worse, crashing to the ground in a ball of flame and crushed metal. And I’m not at all dramatic, but that’s entirely beside the point. The point is, I’m awake and I’m bored, so why not take this opportunity to update my blog? The only trouble is, my brain, although currently racing due to my recent scare, is still very much exhausted and incapable of completing a thought. And so I’ve decided instead to post a few pictures of a little day trip I took to a temple in the countryside with a few friends of mine last weekend. Enjoy….