Thanksgiving

Last weekend, I decided that I was going to get a perm. There’s a girl in my language class who has wonderfully long straight hair that are curled inwards at the bottom; a very simple hairstyle that I shamelessly coveted. I went to a place near Ehwa Women’s University, and figured that they would know how to handle this request. S sat and waited for me for the whole 3 1/2 hours, acting as my translator, when necessary, and otherwise professional hand-holder.  He even brought me snacks at half-time.

I’m not sure why, but the hairdresser decided to give me locks instead, which I secretly liked but screamed of trying too hard. So I was thankful that my hair is delinquent enough that even with a perm, it didn’t take too long before it could almost pass as unkept. Anyways, after the do, we went to get me a new pair of glasses, which I’ve been wanting for a while. Again, S waited another half hour with resigned patience.

His company was certainly the highlight of the day, without which I might have ended up with far more outrageous hair. So instead of dishing out another one-pot wonder, I put together a meal with some of his favourites: proper miso soup, grilled mushrooms and salmon, sesame broccoli stir-fry and steamed white rice. Nothing super fancy but I swear it tasted better than it looks.

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