Directions and directionlessness

I'm way, way out of sorts, all dry-eyeballed and prickly-skinned.

My favorite green shoes are slippery on the bottoms, and I know I'm taking a chance whenever I walk on any kind of smooth surface, which makes wearing them feel kind of reckless. Today, it finally happened: In the parking lot of the grocery store, I wiped out, right in front of a car. I think I might have ended up in the splits. I expected the person in the car to roll down his window and ask if I was alright. Instead, he waited for me to pick myself up, then continued following me to my spot so he could park there. Is it so naive of me to want a little humanity in the cut-throat game of parking?

Sunday was rainy, and I spent it in Ann Arbor. I went to my favorite place for Bibimbap - it is oh, so fresh and delicious. Then I walked to the art museum (which is actually not the art museum, but a temporary locale while they re-do the art museum) and saw an awesome, but small, exhibit of young Japanese photographers. Happy under my umbrella, I then walked to the Michigan Theater and saw "Nashville," which I have always wanted to see. I'm usually so-so about Altman. I did end up liking it, even though some of the early scenes were so chaotic I almost couldn't stand it. In the end, it was worth it. The only thing is, I've had that song "I'm Easy" in my head ever since...

During the movie, the drive home, and in days since, I have been wracked with a weird guilt. It all stemmed from that bebimbap I mentioned. As I was walking to the theater, a group of four young and friendly people stopped me and said, "Excuse me. Do you know a Korean restaurant around here?" I think they were from Japan. Anyway, I started gushing about how I had just that day eaten Korean food, and how fucking awesome it had been. So I started giving them directions. At some point during the direction giving, I realized that the place was kind of far. "It's on campus?" the main guy asked (I decided he was the main guy). "Well...no. It's totally worth it, though!" I kept giving directions using sketchy landmarks and descriptions. I didn't know the name of the place, and even if I did, I knew there wasn't a sign outside. It's kind of attached to a market, but with the directions I gave, the market would also be hard to find... I suddenly realized that there were 2 other good Korean places basically a stone's throw away. I offered to give directions to one of those instead, but Main Guy said, "But the other place is better?" "Oh, yeah! Oh my god, it's so good!" Really I have no idea if it's better at all. I was just excited. Eventually, off they set. For some reason I felt like I had sent them into the wilderness, so vague and inaccurate were my directions. It seemed unlikely that they would find it. I worried about that on and off through the movie. Then I started imagining that they had found it, and I wondered whether it even qualifies as a Korean restaurant. Sure, they have bebimbap, but also a lot of stuff like "hot dog wrapped in bacon, deep fried, and topped with kimchi." Even now, I imagine that they are still wandering around, wet from the rain, kind of bedraggled, or else suffering from stomach troubles if they ordered that hot dog thing.

I really need to stop feeling so responsible for shit like this, huh? Besides, if they are from Japan as I suspect, they should be used to directions like these. When someone came to visit my place there, it was, "From the train station, walk away from the giant red torii. Pass Family Mart and Lawson. When you see the big garden, turn right. Pass the sake shop. Stop at the beer machine and I'll pay you back when you get here. Keep walking straight. When you see the futon place, start looking for a big white building on the right. My apartment is the one that does NOT have a futon airing on the balcony, as it should."