This is what most of my students are doing during class. Actually this kid's English name is, and this is totally serious: psycho killer. Really every other kid at the school has a normal english name except for killer. So anyway, yeah, I took his picture in class today when he was out cold. I couldn't think of a game to play at the end of class, so I just turned the lights off and took pictures of killer. All of the other students loved it.

At the end of every class day, the students who failed their word tests during regular class have to stay late to take a makeup test. These kids are the worst. One of them, who I call "the fat kid," made me hug him last week. Literally, he pushed me up against the blackboard. Yesterday he said North Korea was going to nuke the Statue of Liberty. Then tonight while he's studying, he looks up and goes, "Ryan, I love you." I left the room for a few minutes and while I was gone, fat kid bit another kid. So there was blood. That was awesome. The head boss at the school then took fat kid to another room with the big stick thing and I heard some loud noises for a minute. The weird thing was when they came back out to the classroom both the fat kid and the school director were smiling. I had no idea what was going on.

There was almost a brawl between a drunk Korean guy and this Japanese guy in a suit at this tiny chicken place we ate at tonight. Apparently Koreans hate Japanese people because they destroyed Korea for hundreds of years or something. Whatever.

Sometimes I get annoyed at myself for still wanting more. Like even though I'm across the world in a foreign land experiencing all these new things, I still wonder sometimes if I'm doing anything meaningful with my life. Then I drink six beers.

On the beer note, Erika and David (the British teacher) now have taken a liking to calling me "Granny." Because I don't go out drinking until 4am every night. Every night around midnight, Erika knows I'm going to start checking my watch every couple of minutes, just craving the best part of everyday, sleeptime.

I'm waking up tomorrow at 9, three hours before usual. There's only one thing that could get me up that early: Game 7, baby. I'm breaking into Erika's place, with its luxurious cable, and I'm gonna pop open a cold one. Ok that's not true. But I will be watching the game. If the Mets win, I'm flying home tomorrow night for the Series. Seriously, I might. LETS GO METS!