Yesterday went to school at the request of the school director, to look at a brochure she's making for the program. Basically, she already knew the answers, she just wanted confirmation. And for this I rode the subway for an hour?

However, as I met up with two classmates and Mia later, it was all good. Had dinner with all three of 'em, then had some tea with just Mia, who came back from Thailand this past Sunday and is dealing with going back to Toronto next Monday after a year of traveling and living in Korea.

It's funny how you can sometimes feel yourself changing and growing and learning. Talking with Mia, I thought of my own 9 months here so far. I can't quite put my finger on what exactly the changes are, but I know they're there, waiting to be revealed when I finally go back to my life in the States in a year or so.

Mia was concerned over a last-minute blip in an otherwise great friendship with someone who left Korea last week, and so I found myself telling her about how she and Lewis had helped me turn a corner in the past month or so, and how much I really enjoyed being in their presence. But, I said, I also knew it was not my place to demand all their attention, or try to hold them to me too tightly -- I liked them because they are so interested in meeting people and getting to know them, and that quality in itself demands freedom. I don't think I've ever seen such a clear case of the adage "If you love something, let it free," as evinced in these two people.

You could say that this quality doesn't make for a very reliable kind of friend. But I prefer to think of it as the purest kind of friendship -- one based on me wanting the person around, but not needing the person to be around. And the purest kind of acceptance, where I'm happy to have whatever few moments we can have together, because even if I never see them again, those were moments of happiness and contentment.

Getting very Chicken Soup for the Soul-ish in here. Ow. Quit it.

Time for another fun fact about Korea. When it rains (as it is doing quite seriously and vigorously now), many buildings put a narrow bin outside their doors. The top of the bin is open, revealing an open plastic bag into which you insert your wet umbrella and thus ensure non-drippage on yourself or the office. Some stores have long and short plastic bags, to better fit your long or folding umbrella.