I do believe I need a break from the peninsula that is Korea. I really do like it, and the grass is not greener any where else, but it's a culmination of little things that has driven me to the edge and being polite simply has not worked.

Today at three different times, people pressed issues after the typical, "No, thank you." was offered. I have come to my breaking point. My co teacher, let us call him, "Tim", has on many different occassions asked me to eat dog meat. On those different occassions I have told him that I do not want it, but by all means, if he is used to eating it, and he enjoys it, then he should not stop because I do not want it. At one point he went so far as to say that he would, "Wait until I was drunk and then get me to eat it under the guise of thinking it was something else." I told him when he said this that if this indeed happened, not only would I never speak with him again, but there would be some severe reprecussions. At this point he laughed and said he was kidding. I only wished he said that about chocolate.

Today was basically the last straw. I have been busier than a one armed really busy thing due to a Korean teacher quitting in the end/middle of the semester, and so they mixed my classes by level even more, meaning about one third of my students were not working on what the rest of them were (due to ability, not their drive or coolness), and so the lesson plans I had for the fucking year are basically worthless. "Oh hi," I said as I was bent over a barrel and relentlessly boned.
So then they have me also jumping through late shithoops for getting my visa (which the teacher at the middle school didn't have to do when she got he visa a few months back), and to pile it on, today, I was hit, along with Chrissie, the middle school teacher, with the "Would you like to eat dog." We both responded with the, "No, thank you. You go ahead." This was followed with "How about dog?", and "Try this." as they brought plates of it to the table, and "Try the Boshintang." and etc etc etc...I fucking get it.

I have said, "Thank you, no."
I have said, "No, thank you."
This is not a fucking Dr. Seuss book, but I do not want the Boshintang. I do not want it by your wang, I do not want it with a song. I do not want the dog meat Shin Hargyoon; no I don't with a tampoon.

I have lost my patience. I do NOT understand how many times I have to say, "No, thank you." before the people finally understand that I do not want to eat the fucking dog.

If they want to eat the dog, great. Eat the fucking dog. If you want to rub them all over your nipples, go for it. If you want to boil it, and give yourself and enema with the soup, be my guest. I simply do not want it. You can have my portion, thank you.

I grew up with them as pets. Maybe they did too. Maybe they can think of them as both food and pets. I can not. I did not think that far into the entire ethos of the dog/man relationship. I just know that I don't want to eat the dog, because I still see Sam, the Beagle, with his soft brown ears and rolling howl saying, "Hi, Jeff. Take me for a walk so I can howl while I poop, cause it's old and it hurts, but I know you love me."

It's all good. I would not go to India, and beg people to try burgers because cows are "delicious year 'round, and especially on the grill!" or whatever reasons I could come up with to have cows (and good lord they could be numerous). If they don't eat them, I won't press it.

Seriously...what the fuck. Which part of, "No, thank you." did you NOT understand? No more.