unusual tasting Korean toothpaste

Just about halfway to Seoul — flying somewheres over Northern Alaska or Eastern Russia. I’ve slept a bit, not as much as I’d hoped. I’m seated right next to the flight attendant station, so the noise they make is pretty unavoidable. “The Italian Job” is the in-flight movie, and it isn’t so bad for pre-packaged Hollywood garbage. I’m wondering if we’re going to get fed again before the end of the flight, and I’m beginning to think that we may not. We’d better, is all I’m saying — all I’ve got is a half-eaten pack of Starburst and a bottle of tap water.

I was in the bathroom about fifteen minutes ago and I realized that even if I am lonely & miserable at times in Korea, I’d rather be lonely & miserable in Korea than lonely & miserable and still in Cleveland. It felt strangely reassuring to realize this as I brushed my teeth with unusual tasting Korean toothpaste.

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