Pain on the wane.

Friday, even though I felt pretty much miserable all day I decided to work out because I couldn’t stand to break the routine and because I thought it might actually help my back, which it seemed to do. I took it lightly, staying away from squats and back exercises. I upped the length of time I exercised, but the intensity overall was much lower than usual. Since then, I’ve had a lot more mobility.

My hair is getting long again. I’d say it’s about shoulder length right now. The last time I had it cut, I told Songju that I was planning on growing it long but that it’s so thick, heavy, and just generally unwieldy that could she please cut a lot of layers into it? She did, but I didn’t like it: It was like the haircut I had about 2.5 years ago, which is now outdated. Like I should really care about that, but I don’t want to look like I’m still trying to copy Jennifer Aniston from those early Friends days. Well, I’m living with it like that, except you really can’t tell about the layering because I’m being seriously low maintenance these days and either putting it back into a ponytail or clipped up into a twist immediately after I get out of the shower. Or I let it dry naturally, which just happens to be curly and hides the layering a lot.

Still, I’m kind of in a quandary because my inclination is to leave it cut in a bob, whichever kind is fashionable at the time. At that length, the thickness is manageable and I can still play with barrettes. But I figure the bob is going to be my old lady haircut and I should really play around with a variety of hairstyles until I reach that magical age when hairstyles never change.

I’m afraid to get a really short haircut. I see them on people and they look great, but my face is fairly wide and I’m just afraid it would look even more like a dinner plate. So, I’m going long again, but this time I’m just not up to all the work involved. I sit here, hair held tightly in a twist by a big barrette wondering what is the point of having long hair if it’s always up? Doesn’t it make me look the same as if I just had a really short haircut? I guess because there is always the option to wear it down. There is one other thing: Summer in Seoul is dreadful and even when as short as a bob, the hair on my head traps all that heat and I’m just too hot. I thought if I had long hair this summer I could always wear it up and it would be cooler. It’s a theory.

I can’t wait to have Ric cut my hair in Seattle. I haven’t made the appointment yet, which means I’m feeling anxious that I’ll call and I’ll learn he doesn’t work there anymore or he’s on some kind of mega-vacation during my visit. He’s the only person I trust fully with my mane and it’s because his hair is exactly like mine. I mean, I feel like I can let him cut it however he wants and I don’t care what it is as long as I can reproduce it at home. He will probably even up the layers a bit; I’ll be happy.

Dave and I paid a visit to a new restaurant in our neighborhood. The big draw for him was soontooboo chigae, which is stew with a runny sort of tofu in a hot chili broth with lots of vegetables. It comes served in a stone bowl straight from the burner, making it boil for a few minutes after it’s first served. It’s quite good, but too hot for me both in temperature and in spiciness. We went and ordered. The place was a little dirty and the ajuma bringing out the various kimchee dishes had really grimy hands. I started to get that feeling again, that feeling like when there’s going to be a hair in my food. But there wasn’t hair in my food, and the chigae was boiling hot so I figured that it was safe - no dangerous microbes could survive that. But the chigae had a definite yellow color to it. (It’s a hot red chili broth remember?) We didn’t know what the deal was until we tasted it and it totally tasted like egg yolk. Ick!! Placenta city, man. We had a hard time sucking it down. Serious yearly cholesterol fix, I tell ya. I couldn’t finish mine, but I reduced the level of the broth enough to find a big ole hard-boiled yolk lurking at the bottom in addition to the runny ones that had mixed into the broth. And there were no vegetables! The whole chigae seemed only to consist of egg, tofu, and hot chili. What a rip. It was a tough meal. The ajuma asked us why we didn’t finish and we told her it was because we didn’t like eggs. She told us we should’ve asked her not to put them in. We were like, how were we supposed to know?

Beautiful weather here recently. It’s the breeze carrying away all the pollution, staving off the humidity. Dave and I sat out in the park for awhile just to be a part of it.