Skippy's Authors Return from a Lengthy Blogging Hiatus

For those of you who thought Skippy was through, relegated to the archives of Gail and Michelle's illustrious yet ephemeral college career, we've got news for you. Nearly three years after our final post, the authors of Skippy remain single, awesome, and pretty much doing great things with their lives. Gail has been traveling through Asia, living in Paris, and traveling through Europe before settling in New York City.

 Michelle has been living in Grass Valley, living in Carson City, and living in Las Vegas as a journalist.

They've both been learning French, keeping up their literary pursuits, navigating the career world, and -- dare we say -- breaking the hopes of an ardent suitor or two along the way.

In conversation today, the two protagonists of this blog decided to revisit a poll of Skippy readers taken more than five years ago. The question -- "When will Michelle and Gail get married? (Not to each other, but to worthy gentlemen)" -- was answered thusly: Michelle will marry at age 26. Gail will marry at age 28.

The ladies have yet to reach this milestone, and the question still looms largely over the humble realm of this blog. That chapter -- er, post -- has yet to be written.

Meanwhile, the friendship remains strong as ever in spite of the distance. In fact, the girls met up in Las Vegas over the summer for an epic rendezvous. Without further ado, we present the photos:

Fine dining at Firefly tapas:

Hiking early the morning of a 109-degree day

Behind the wheel of the trusty 2000 Ford Taurus (no, dear readers, this vehicle has not been replaced by the Audi that you all voted for).

Fremont Street Experience!

The Strip with francophone friends.

Photo lineup at the Mob Museum.

That's Vegas.

And that's it for now, folks! We hope to be posting about another reunion as soon as possible.

The Ballerina Who Fell in Love with a B-Boy

One of the highlights of our week in Seoul was seeing "The Ballerina Who Falls in Love with a B-Boy." The play is similar to "Step Up" and "Save the Last Dance," and once Michelle found out that there was ballet AND breakdancing, there was no talking her out of going. It was so good!
The high-energy, well-choreographed dances kept our eyes glued to the stage and the language was universal with pantomime and a dialogue of dance.

Basically: A beautiful ballerina poo-poos breakdancing as a lesser art form until she falls in love with a ripped B-boy who persuades her to reconcile the dance forms in a fusion of style.

Gyeonbokgung Palatial Life

Our trip to Gyeonbokgung Palace was accented with a huge water-operated clock exhibit and palanquins (after which, Gail added palanquin riding to the list of things she wants to do before she dies). But even more impressive than the museum about the Joseon Dynasty-era palace was the palace itself. It was a litany of colorful, repetitious buildings that offered endless places to explore and some striking photo opportunities.

One of the coolest parts was watching grown men in satiny robes carrying axes and performing the traditional changing of the guard ceremony. We tried getting to the Bluie House (Korea's version of the White House) which was unfortunately guarded by numerous Korean guards in long, puffy jackets and black face masks (prompting Gail to compare them to Communists). Our new dare is to get a picture with a Korean governmental guard. We're certain those stoic bastions of national security have some weaknesses.

The Year of the Tiger

After a demonstrative conversation about how satisfactory it is to growl like that girl in "Avatar," we started out 2010, "The Year of the Tiger" with a visit to the traditional figurines outside of Gyeongbokgung Palace.

We also paid homage to our birth years. Gail was delighted to find out that she was born in the year of the tiger. "Sweeeet!" Too bad it's not Tiger Woods' year.

While Michelle admitted that her year of the rabbit isn't as cool as a big cat, we countered that it's definitely a step up from, say, the rat.

Here's to 2010 being a year of "passion and integrity."

Jimjilbangs and Naked People

Gail basically thinks travel is all about being slapped across the face with the new and strange. With this perspective in mind, she again failed to fully prep Michelle on what was coming, specifically what a "jimjilbang," was. The first word that comes to Michelle's mind in retrospect is "naked" and if you know Michelle at all, you know she really doesn't like that word. A jimjilbang is basically a huge bathhouse reminiscent of Roman days where everyone lounges in saunas and hot tubs of different temperatures, or takes advantage of the showers. All of this, of course, is done without clothes. We're talking 50 naked women milling around everywhere. One look at Michelle's face told Gail she had achieved "traveling" in Korea -- the getting slapped with the new part. As Skippy is not that kind of blog, we can't post photos to prove that Michelle dove right in, so you'll have to take our word for it.

It was after 2 a.m. by the time we arrived back from the club and wrestled our backpacks out of the lockers to, yes, add to them. A heroic surge of courage (and the fact that it was so late almost no one was around) strengthened Michelle to strip down and march past the nearby "ajumas," older Korean women into the bathhouse. She didn't stop there, either. Foregoing paying for a personal scrub down from a nearby attendant at a washing station, we indulged in the showers, sauna and jetted hot tub before we turned in for the night at 3:00.

This was easier said that done, however, as we had to scavenge around for floor space in the co-ed sleeping room. Dressed in our complementary pink jimjilbang uniforms, we rented towel-like blankets and settled on either side of a couple that unfortunately decided to stay up a little later. There, amidst about 200 other sleeping post-party young people, we managed about 4.3 hours of sleep before setting out for the palaces in the morning.

Las Biblias

Confession: We committed several cultural sins while traveling around Seoul. Michelle didn't eat kimchi (a Korean staple food) OR street food, and Gail wore sneakers (no sexy heels?!) for the entire week. Besides that, the fact that we lived in the same pair of tights is just kinda gross. That and we don't want to know what happened before us in our room at the love motel.

Despite all our trespasses, however, we faithfully used our graduation gifts from the Biola journalism department -- perfect travel-sized Bibles. As we read in Proverbs and Psalms, a wise person listens to correction.

Traditional Korean Tea House

We escaped the snow and ditched our boots to sit on the floor and enjoy hot tea at this cozy spot. For the record, the papaya tea meant to cure a hoarse throat didn't work.

Octopus Soup

I didn't think I would mind eating octopus in a soup. So I accepted when Gail proposed such a dinner. Little did I know I would watch the innocent creature's cruel death. Then I'd eat it.

Cheonggycheong Stream

I'd love to see Cheonggycheong in the summer, at night, when it transforms into a Korean version of Fantasmic. Light shows, live music and crowds in metropolitan Seoul! But we chose to beat the crowds crossing the stream in the dead of winter. Sunset was still striking under the bridge.

Everyday Korean Food

From my first morning in Korea, I had my doubts about the food. Fish for breakfast? Seaweed?!

My provincial palate was about to get a rude awakening. Food was fishy. And spicy. But in a different way than the jalapeños and habañeros I'm used to.

But this appetizer -- taken in Gail's cozy studio apartment (literally cozy: the floors were heated) --was just the beginning.