As a person who has never let actual constraints affect her imaginative powers, I’m often disappointed when I finally see pictures of the people I’ve imagined. Usually this applies to artists, as I don’t have a lot of other occasions to sit around and contemplate what people I don’t know look like. I love Mirah, for example, and Carla Bruni, but for whatever reason the image I had of them in my head simply doesn’t jive with what actually exists. Which isn’t to criticize them, of course; one can only change the way one looks to a certain extent, and the fact that Ms. Bruni isn’t exactly as ethereal and sad-looking as I might have thought doesn’t really mean that what she creates is any less valid. But still, I’m not going to deny a little bit of a letdown.
Perversely, however, Ira Glass is exactly as attractive as I pictured – maybe even a little bit more so – and that’s rather disappointing, too.


Figure 1: It’s a montage. (Or as close as I can get with WordPress.)
Part of me hates the fact that I love This American Life, the show so infamously described by one Summer Roberts as
…that show by those hipster know-it-alls who talk about how fascinating ordinary people are. Gawd.
There are times when I think the show would be perfect if it could just dump Jack Hitt and Sarah Vowell, two of the biggest perpetrators of the patronizing, ludicrously biased, unable-to-see-past-its-own-navel tone to which TAL sometimes falls victim. (Also, I hate hate HATE Sarah Vowell’s voice.) And then, of course, there are other times when it messes up all on its own.
Nonetheless, I love stories, and I love the idea of telling stories, and I respect the fact that – to a certain degree – the show tries to capture a wide range of stories in America. And I like the show, in general, period. It makes me laugh, and it’s interesting.
Still, though, it’s so cliche to be in love with Ira Glass. Couldn’t I have found someone less sort of isolated? Someone less likely to fall victim to all the accusations leveled at this demographic?
What I really want, I think, is to not want this. Because he does look exactly as I imagined, and I still like him.
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I have a lot of quality student material to share and a lot to say about Japan, the reason for my extended hiatus, but not right now, which means probably never. Keep your fingers crossed if you like.
Filed under: actual transcripts, ESL, games, looks like, skool, students, teaching
Q: If you could be any animal, what would you be?
A: Octobus
- student
Things I am already in trouble for, as of 9:02 AM:
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wearing a skirt that is too casual
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spilling water on said skirt
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not wearing socks
2L – Guess Who?
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I Want A Woman With A Kind Heart (we’ll call him Kind Heart), Danny*, that kid who looks like a teddy bear, the one who was too cool for 1-11, one of the sweet kids from 1-11 who looked alike (was he the one who cried?)
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<3 <3 <3
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kids in back too chaotic, so maybe next time pass out papers when they’re still sitting down
2-I – Guess Who?
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smart but too loud/verging on obnoxious
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good: Monkey!*, Dwight Shrute*, my favorite kid from last year’s Tuesday classes
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not so good: the kid with the crush on me (“Channing,”)*, Smartass, Smartass Accomplice, Tiny Tim*, the other lookalike kid from 1-11, TWO of my Thursday Nightmare Trifecta kids*
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at Visiting CT (we’ll call him Co-Teacher F)’s suggestion, I just read the cards, and the kids liked it fine
2-E – Guess Who?
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watch some girls - maybe more advanced than previously suspected?
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The Cutest Student Ever and The Other Cutest Student Ever (who got a Magic Stick straight perm that makes her look like some sort of Beatle)
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that girl who looks like Miguk Sister
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the girl who said she was looking for a man as attractive as a teddy bear in her personal ad
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pretty quiet but not dumb
It is impossible to eat chop chae bap, which is noodles and rice. Aside from the fact that it’s a double carb load, neither spoon nor chopsticks can be used successfully.
I should add at this point that PCT is GONE, which makes my life a lot easier. I will continue to refer to ACT by her given pseudonym, and the rest of the co-teachers will be Co-teachers B through F.
*APPENDIX:
Danny, Monkey and Channing all have names that sound like their pseudonyms, and each of them resembles their name – i.e. Danny looks like a Danny, Channing looks like a Channing, and Monkey…well, a really smart-alecky funny one, but a monkey nonetheless.
Tiny Tim is at least six inches shorter than everyone else and used to hobble around on a wooden crutch.
Dwight Shrute looks like Dwight Shrute.
The Thursday Nightmare Trifecta Kids are the ones who were friends with Min Ho, except that, unlike Min Ho, they’re really good at English, which means that they tended to get less attention for their antics. No more.
hi (IGR)! you are really go singapore… but I’m never lonely!!! because you are not here I can’t hear your noise and you are not disturb me. so now Iam very happy …… hope you are having a good day~~
(Host Brother).
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(. .)
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If I could review Bangkok Suvarnabhumi Airport as a place to sleep, it would compare favorably with (God forbid) Atlanta Hartsfield-Jackson. Actually, I believe I will review it.
SLEEPING IN AIRPORTS: Bangkok Suvarnabhumi
****/5
The first thing to note about Suvarnabhumi is that it’s brand new. The second is that it’s full of backpackers who have the same idea you do, unlike certain other airports we could mention, which are full of homeless people who accuse you of nonexistent offenses. This means that there can be fierce competition for the cushioned benches – unsurprising considering the facts that the airport is also quiet and free of ugly carpet (are you listening, Atlanta?), has restaurants and Starbucks open 24 hours, and doesn’t smell. Aside from the absence of free Internet access and a few issues with climate control, Suvarnabhumi makes a fine place to nurse a 4AM Tazo Shaken Black Lemon Tea (Iced) before eventually passing out on a chair while you wait for your budget flight.
Singapore is humid, but thanks to the kindness of Hallim’s friend from college, we have a very comfortable place to stay, one in which Hallim is passed out right now. This is probably due to the fact that our flight left at 10:15 yesterday morning. We had some time to kill in Seoul, so we met Soccer, Quagmire, and another Program friend of ours I’ll call Earthy Fellow in Itaewon, a district in which I have no desire to ever, ever set foot again – it reminded me of Bourbon Street with a dash of colonialism, except much larger. At any rate we went to some place called Foreign Restaurant, which, as one might guess, was not any good, really. But the company was excellent. We tried to go see a movie, ended up browsing in some weird supermall, and took the metro back to Incheon, which was not, I discovered too late, the same as Incheon Terminal. Incheon Terminal is actually 40 minutes away from Incheon. We had to get on a bus, and then we had to tell the bus driver to hurry, and we ran through customs, etc., and then we discovered that the boarding time had been delayed. (Note: this was my fault. I should not attempt to navigate anywhere.) So we made it to Bangkok around 1:20, got our stuff, had some SB and crashed. Our AirAsia flight left around 7:30, and we were at Hallim’s friend’s apartment by 12.
We spent the afternoon in the Arab Quarter, which was lots of fun, aside from the fact that we ended up eating Malay/Indonesian food, which was good, but now I’m fiending for some baba ghanouj. At first I was being a bit too guidebooky, dragging Hallim to this street of hipster stores, before she pointed out that while they all differ, such boutiques can be found anywhere, and the kitsch was sort of what made the area unique. So we ate some baklava and found this place that sold telephone-shaped oil lamps and bags of old photographs of Singapore “ago,” as Host Fam would say. They bear a pretty strong resemblance to the photos we have of my father’s family in Saigon, and on vacation, and in Cali. So I picked up a few of those and wrote letters on the back, and then I found a Slurpee (!!! – yes, I am aware that these are not native to Singapore, but they are both hard to find and delicious), and then we went home.
The only downers so far: Rain jacket came out of outside of Scooter’s loaned backpack, i.e. is lost forever in AirAsia’s luggage claim, was rather expensive and more importantly a gift from Miguk Oma, and iPod seems to have stopped working. I’m going to try a few things with it, but I don’t think it’s under warranty, which means purchasing a new one, eventually. I had downloaded some Dengue Fever and White Shoes & The Couples Company, which I thought would be suitable travel accompaniments, but now I am forced to sing in my head.

