Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Sixth Wedding Anniversary, Second in Seoul.
I just re-read what we did for our anniversary last year because I was going to post the link for reference here, but now it's made me want to go do those things again. We have talked about and attempted returning to Seonyudo, and we will have to make certain that it happens. I know we're in a different way this year than we were last year, but I don't want to leave this country any sadder about leaving than I'll already be.
The sixth anniversary is for gifts of candy. Because I am just a house lady with no job or children to speak of (yet), I made for Dan some peanut butter joke taffies. I'd asked him his favorite candy, and, though I'll never understand why, his savor favor rests on Laffy Taffies. The first batch I attempted crystallized, and I was so sad and considered giving up, but I read some tips, tried again two days later, and, boom, old fashioned American taffy pull right here in my South Korean Billa.
Dan bought me a decadent box of truffles (i.e. real candy) from the chocolatier down the street. There really is a little Paris-trained chocolate maker right on our street, and she is so cute and accidentally talks to us in French sometimes. She threw in a free macaroon since it was our anniversary. For real, you guys, Koreans are always trying to give stuff away. The best thing I ever did in this country was get pregnant. Friends bring you fruit, buy you ice cream makers. Coffee shop owners bring you free orange juice. Sample vendors give you whole chicken nuggets instead of thirds. Greek restaurant chefs make you your own gyros. It is blissful (and will end now so soon).
Taffies and truffles.
Jokes. I don't know if I discovered the trick to writing puns, but I found that having in mind a punchline streamlined the process for me. I wrote one joke for each year of our marriage. This is not a commentary on marriage, but I suppose you could take it that way.
Dan also got me this little box of flowers with a chalkboard card. We had a brief horticultural scare, but I think we resurrected it from its limpness, and I'll try harder to keep it alive.
Anniversary picture. Me with that beer belly.
The ceiling at Paris Baguette.
We saw this fellow at the bank with his feet turned out like a plié. The general Facebook consensus was that it is a result of some sort of vitamin deficiency (and being good at ballet).
And, ever so romantically, we rounded out our weekend with a trip to Costco to stock up on meats, juice, and cheeses. We also went to a nice pasta restaurant and to the theater to see Pirates of the Caribbean: Current, which was much more date-like.
Tomorrow, we move! I'm stoked on it, mostly because it means I can stop the sensory overloading activity of packing crap up. I get overwhelmed.