Coworker: How was your weekend?
People don’t really know how to respond to that answer.
Because when people ask that question it’s more of a cordiality. They expect a “good” or a “fine” and then plan to move on with their lives.
But if you respond with “epic”, well that just begs for follow up questions. But if they didn’t plan for story time, then they just have to reply with an “oh cool…”.
They don’t know that I woke up that morning in Busan. That I had slept through my alarm and caught the 9:30 bullet train to Seoul. That I had jumped on the subway, ran into my house for 90 seconds to change my shirt, and took a cab to work getting there with 4 minutes to spare.
They don’t know that the night before, I had miraculously ended up next to the stage for yet another festival. We hadn’t paid very much for these tickets and contemplated backing out, especially with the exo concert the day before in Seoul and sleeping on my friend who lives in Gangnam’s floor because we missed the last bus. But we decided to suck it up. And when we got there, the guides just kept showing us forward until we ended up here.
They didn’t know that a mere 12 hours before, a pop star had knelt at the edge of the stage, put his hands out, and sang to us. There aren’t many fancams unfortunately, but you can see traces of us.
Those 2 white light sticks–bottom right 0:21. Yes, yours truly.
They didn’t know that I held hands with my favorite one from Got7, or high fived a dozen more as they walked by.
0:30-0:35 That happened
They didn’t know that the one that got away in Dream Concert, and Silvia’s favorite favorite one, not only looked at us but I straight up touched his hand. I touched freakin’ Kai.
My favorite quote of the day, a mother of three from Singapore, “it was really lucky I got to sit next to you guys. Because of you they always look this way.”
We’re kind of like the no camera phone lady.
It’s not like I can lie—my weekend was truly epic. Actually, not just my weekend. My life.
It’s just the K-pop luck we have, but the places I’ve visited. That I watched a firework show at the bottom of China. That I drank fresh hallabong juice from an island at the bottom of Korea. Or that I spent the night in a karaoke room at the bottom of Japan.
Sylvi, my Malaysian friend, is coming to spend a few weeks in my apartment to attend a certain k-pop star’s promotions. She speaks fluent Korean, so I’m hoping I can utilize as well as enjoy her presence. And maybe she’ll return the favor in February when we want to visit Malaysia.
But before I can even start thinking about Malaysia, I have a trip to Taiwan next month.
And it’s not just my friends, weekends and vacations. My school life is absolutely hilarious.
Me: okay, Alex, close your eyes and smell this. *holds up paper cup of 7/11 minute maid because I’d forgotten to buy oranges this morning*
Alex: It’s minute maid teacher.
Me: … Well, it’s orange juice.
Alex: No teacher, it’s minute maid!
Me: okay…you’re right…it’s minute maid
Or the TOEFL class I subbed:
Me pointing to middle school boy with mexi-stache: “And what’s your name?”
Me: “Okay Elsa, let’s hear it. Let it go. One verse. Shijak.”
/class turns to look and see what he’ll do next/
Mexi-stache: *determining whether to keep with joke or give up*
Let it go~~ Let it g– /puberty voice crack/
/class maniacal laughter/
Me: thank you Elsa
With this kind of epic life, can you blame me for not wanting to leave?