I'm out of control.

Parker came into town to visit for the weekend and we met up to talk, like we usually do. He still has girl issues - not problems, exactly, more like probabilities - while I have, well, I suppose I have issues in general.

He was telling me that he was thinking about applying to PhD programs because it might give him better opportunities, not just in the job market, but as a Christian, as well. It's good. Maybe he can find some inspiration and peace.

It may be a combination of winter doldrums, post-ABSITE ennui, and the unbearable lightness of being me, but I feel particularly uninspired nowadays. So what do I do to fill the time?

Kara Bakery.

So since I've been listening to KPop nonstop, I've also been watching all the music videos on YouTube. Clickety click from there, and I've been watching all these Korean shows. My new favorite band is opening a bakery in reality show style and I am all over it.

One unforeseen benefit is that my Korean seems to be improving slightly, possibly only in my head. However, that's enough for me to start tossing random Korean words around. I kept interjecting Korean into my conversations with Myung on Sunday and he was not amused.

Myung: Stop!

Me: What? Hangookmal em-beuh-rae-ees haeyahdae. (There was a lot of romanization of words I didn't know)

He: It's weird to hear you say it. You sound like a 20-year-old girl.

Understandable, considering my frame of reference, but I still threatened him that I would start tweeting exclusively in Korean. As Che would say, haters gonna hate.

I told Sharon about it, considering she sort of started this whole thing, and apparently I should not have. She found it alternately funny and creepy, in an age-inappropriate kind of way. It seemed a lot less embarrassing in private.

Still, she was supportive of me em-beuh-rae-ees-ing my culture and even suggested that I fly off to Korea during my vacation week later this month. That may be pushing it, but I did appreciate her messaging me a picture of Nicole earlier today. The changpee-ness of a guilty pleasure? This is mine.