After more than two hours at the DMV, I have corrected the registration address of my truck, and I have a new license.
Why is took the woman 45 mins to enter the information in her computer is beyond me.
Why they asked for hair color, eye color, and weight when it’s nowhere to be found on the card is beyond me.
Why the card expires in 2015 when I paid for eight years? That’s beyond me.*
Why the RESTRICTIONS part of my card is blank when I checked “yes” to “do you wear glasses” and said, “I must wear glasses while I drive, to not do so would be homicidal and suicidal” is beyond me, too.**
But I must say, the photo is good!
* Actually, I suspect the less-than-one-month-until-my-birthday part counts as one year. Good Man said, “We won’t be here in seven years anyways, so don’t try to fix it.”
** If you checked “yes” to any of the health questions, you had to explain them in a box. I thought that was rather stupid, since it’s obvious I wear glasses. So a drew a stick figure girl with glasses on her stick round head.
Last night I went to taekwondo. It was a tiny class of only five people, all of us black belts. (I think; I still can’t figure out why some people have red, orange, and blue belts and others have green and black belts. In case, everyone there was wearing a regular-looking black belt.)
We did a lot of kicking drills, and though I mentally didn’t want to go to class, it was exactly the sort of class I needed.
At one point in the class, a young guy (high-school aged) said to Special Forces Instructor, “하지마!”
I have no idea where he learned that, but we all stared at him. Half of the students asked me what he said, the other half asked a Korean-American classmate. “‘Don’t do that,'” I looked at him and said, “You can’t say that!”
“That’s how you speak to lovers, family, children, and animals, not your instructor.”
He blushed and bowed to Special Forces Instructor, “Sorry.”
My partner said, “How should he say it?”
The rest of class, the teenager kept using -세요.
I ended up being partnered with a young, cute guy. Looked like he was half-Asian, but could’ve been Latino or something else. I figured he was in his late teens, early twenties. Nice, friendly, nearly gave me a bloody nose with a firm, not too well-placed kick.
While we were doing sit-ups, he was very nervous to sit on my feet. I said, “I need you to sit on my feet.”
“Are you sure?”
When we switched, I sat on his feet and hugged his knees to keep him steady. Something about working with all of those boys in Korea made me lose any worries about modesty in taekwondo. If I need you to sit on my feet, sit on them. I’m not attracted to you, but I do need stronger abs.