My first birthday back in America in two years. The theme: legos and Spider-man. The time in Korea is over, but the PTSD when looking at a birthday cake is long from forgotten.
Granted, I was forced to go, but it was pretty good.
Dang, that’s a lot of corn.
But I need to say, Navy Pier is long, like really long.
They all lied. I was lied to.
But something about trying to flirt with my physical therapist screams sexual harassment. So, I’m holding back.
Set aside the insane baseball fandom, the violence, and the corruption, and let us examine tacos.
About a year ago, I gave time tested advice on how to travel with IBS. That post seems to be my most popular post so I hope it helped many people live their dream of travelling across the world and not shitting their pants. Today, I come to you a singular city living person to say, living in the city is…
Every night I ride the same bus with the man working on his crossword puzzle two graveyards North of Wrigley Field. We don’t speak.
I’m back in America. I know. It’s weird. My Korean experience (I’m referring to me living in Korea, not some last minute relationship I had with a Korean. I’m not that lucky), but anyway, my Korean experience is over. Now I’m forced to talk about it with everyone I meet. You know what that means!…