Holy Crap!
I just called a ryokan in Sappor and made reservations for the last two days of the Snow Festival... all in Japanese. And... I did it... correctly??? I'm half-tempted to call back and make sure he didn't think I said January instead of February. Yeesh. My heart is still pounding. How I managed, I'll never know. But now I (think I) have lodging for all of the Hokkaido trip. If only I could be sure JR will put out another train package for the new year. Host dad and I are going to the travel agency when it re-opens on Sunday to make reservations for Okinawa and then the rest should easily fall into place.

Phew.

And as a New Year's gift this morning, they gave me ichi-man-en (roughly $100) for travel and my own purposes. I feel considerably less stressed now.

context
Another year gone by and despite having wandered, I remain still a restless wanderer.

After a late dinner with my family I sat with them in near silence watching TV. Finally, after midnight had passed and they went half-asleep to bed, I walked to the shrine that�s less than a block from my house and paid my respects to the gods. I thought it would be deserted, as the streets were quiet and I assumed everyone to be at home or out on larger feats. But there was a line, albeit small, and I waited with everyone else to ask for favor before the altar.

It was quiet and clear walking the streets. From far off corners of the city I could hear the temple gongs. The sky was bare, not the cloudy, rainy mess predicted for today. In a way, I was pleased to see the stars but also disappointed that I hadn�t gone by myself to Takao Mountain outside the city to climb and watch the sunrise. This is, after all, the only night of the year the trains keep running. As much as that would have been an escape, it�s not something I would have enjoyed much alone or, in fact, surrounded by people in what seems to be an ever-crowded landscape.

Yet as I stood in line before the shrine and looked for a moment at the northwest sky, even in the brightness of Shinjuku I saw as a crystalline flash arced down to the horizon and was gone. The Gods answer questions even before they are asked.

I dropped my ten yen coin into the box, shook the bell to wake the gods, bowed twice, clapped twice and bowed again to ask my favor.

Earlier tonight I sat in the bath in meditation and wondered if I should make a resolution. I�ve always been good at introspection but never at self-resolve. Then it occurred to me exactly what I should look for. Not a place that I fit into, not a mate to make me happy, not a chance to start again. As a friend put it only a day ago, all that anyone needs to understand themselves and the world is context. Without it, life is simply too big or too small for understanding. And me, I either see one depressing and hopeless forest or some tiny, scrubby nasty trees� unless, of course, I chance upon something wonderful right before my eyes and then, THEN the whole picture changes.

And so I asked for the strength to find perspective. For that will reveal to me the path before my eyes. Every moment is filled with everything� and as much as I want to see that all, the harder I try the more lost I become.

If I look back to before I came here, I realize that no amount of preparation could have given me any understanding of what I would find. No matter how much I studied or thought I comprehended Japan; no matter how much I loved anime, manga and the Japanese language, I could never have felt the real Japan. I had nothing but volumes of floating information and no context to put it in. Coming here solidified all that... and yet I am still so lost in all of it that I can't find a place for myself.

I want to find that feeling of solidification in my own life� to have just the right amount of perspective to remain realistic and functional but also to be nonjudgmental and open-minded. To see what I have before it goes away.

I walked away from the shrine and bought myself a fortune even though I told myself I wouldn�t. I paid my respects to the Inari shrines and opened the fortune. With no English translation, I didn�t know much of what it said but I know that the first line said this:

�After the rain, it becomes clear��

I tied my fortune beneath the biggest tree and walked the few minutes to my house, far from home but a little closer to understanding.

Auld Lang Syne
Proudly one day ahead of the United States, tonight I will reach 2004 before all my friends. On New Year's eve and New Year's even only the trains run all night. But I will be staying in. There's nothing I want to do that would feel right (and not take obscene amounts of money), so I'm staying home with my host family to take care of my own business.

New Years is certainly a special time for the Japanese. It's easy to tell, because there are traditional decorations of bamboo, straw and pine on every house and store. Everything besides the largest stores and companies are closed-- not just for today and tomorrow but some for several days at a time. Not only the banks (regular hours 9AM-3PM) but also the ATMs (which are already only open from morning till night) are closed from yesterday until the third. Why not have 24 hour ATMs? Don't ask me... Japan is a mystery.

My family may not be very traditional- they won't be paying a visit to any shrine unless I insist- but they've spent the last two days cleaning the house in traditional Japanese fashion. I even scoured my own room. The importance of O-souji (honorable cleaning) is to open your house to the gods and to the new year with cleanliness and good feeling. My guess is that it's the only time of year they really clean... and not *that* thoroughly. I got rid of as much dust as I could to do my part.

It does make me happy to see the New Year's decorations up around the house. In a way, I wish they were there all year. It gives this small, dingy place a happier, more ethnic feeling and some personality that it lacks. I'll be sad to see them go.

Tonight we eat Soba and Mochi, the traditional Japanese New Year's foods. Amusingly (yet sadly), my host mother tells me that many people die on New Years. Not from drinking or accidents, but from choking on mochi... a thick, pasty dessert made from rice products. It's not the young, of course, but the elderly who forget to chew or whose dentures lodge in their own throats. I've heard from several sources that each year many fall victim to Death by Mochi. I know it's pathetic but I can't help laughing.

Find your joy, wherever you are tonight. I'll try to find mine.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

time flies
I went to Yokohama today in the company of two friends. Again I had the same feeling of control and yet, returning to Shinjuku I still feel the weight of Tokyo. Yokohama has something Tokyo lacks... character, soul, I'm not sure what to call it. It was another day of LONG walking from about 11:30AM to 8:30PM... straight from Yokohama station along the pier, into Chinatown, up into the hills on the other side of the expressway, to the top of the Yokohama lighthouse and back to the station via the city streets. I'm... exhausted. Right now we're working on plans for a one night stay at a mountainside ryokan I found through the Japan Inn Group.

In the meanwhile, I'm going to rest and maybe make some more pressing reservations. Please enjoy the following video:

QUICKTIME FORMAT (2.7MB): Chanting Monk at Ikebukuro Station

all asleep
Lately my feet and hands have been going numb while I'm sleeping. First it was just my feet, and they would still tingle when I woke up. Now my hands are cramping up and freezing too. I wonder if I should be worried...

on foot
I now realize just how simple it is to get anywhere in Tokyo... by walking. The trains make everything convenient but it's TOO convenient. Convenient enough that people forget you can walk from Shinjuku to Harajuku in about as much time as the train takes, really. Convenient enough that the perfectly capable adults in my host family consider the 10(ish)km across the Yamanote circle from Harajuku station to Tokyo station to be a bloody far distance to walk. That, folks, is a little over five miles on a flat, paved surface. In Glacier I've done 10 mile days with over 2000 feet of elevation gain on treacherous rock and skree. And my host parents were yet more impressed with my youthful abilities when today I completed the very simple feat described above.

I won't bore you with the tedious details, save to say I had good company and saw many fabulous things. (Including a rare shrine to cats, a store in Harajuku called Cowpoo, about fifty mysterious and hidden bits of the past, and several free Sony PS2 gaming centers.) The walk ended after dark in the most crowded and teeming place I've ever been-- the Millenario lights show in Otemachi. Strangely and symbolically, Chris and I entered at the wrong end and went the whole way against a tide of literally thousands of people thronging to see beautiful but quite boring displays of lights. We walked on a sidewalk roped off for free pedestrian traffic and watched the masses crowd the streets, pushed like cattle from one end of a corral to the other, hardly watching their surroundings (much less enjoying them) and at all times assaulted by needless and obnoxiously loud instructions via megaphone. It was depressingly Japanese. People here will queue for anything, even if they don't enjoy it. When the new Apple store opened in Ginza (admittedly, the first of its kind in Japan), people queued the day before and thousands were in line the morning of the opening... even though SCARCELY any Japanese use Macintosh computers. Can't say I'm sad I missed that one.

I feel I am much more in charge of the city now. There is a lightness in my heart resulting from the walk. That, coupled with the long-awaited arrival of my USA Christmas package and the purchase of a brand-new winter coat (yay! sale!) made today a VERY good day. Soon, (oh yes, very soon) I will attempt a walk from the FAR SOUTHERNMOST station of the Yamanote circle to the NORTHERNMOST station... a total of *gasp* almost TEN MILES. It will take a while, surely, as the major roads jump about a bit. But with a compass pointing due north, no map is needed. And then I will have mastered this city for I alone shall be captain and steward of all the lands between the ocean and sea from the far north country to the western hills and I... eherm... sorry, been reading Tolkein.

It's time for me to shut up and most some photos from various place I've recently been. Enjoy them and many more I have, so many more will later come.

Tra la. [Click thumbnails for full versions]

Yes, those are eggs.	From the pits of hell.	And I ate one.
A calligraphy master.	It sells glasses.	Would you karaoke here?
Fuji-san.	Not hiking shoes.	Steam vents.
Lanterns in Ueno.	A public bath.	Cigarette and drink machines.

Depa-Chika
One extremely interesting aspect of the Tokyo city life is the department store basements. Firstly, Tokyo department stores are EVERYWHERE, especially clustered around the eki or stations and I think, I *think*, Shinjuku has the most of any major Yamanote line station. Secondly, Japanese department stores (as I've said before) are quite different from their American counterparts. They are much bigger and much more lavish. Universally, it seems that each has on its bottom floor both a grocery store (or Supa) for pricey and upscale ingredients and also a... uh... I don't know what to call it... HUGE prepared foods section.

These enormous basements stretch on for what seems like miles in an endless sea of sights, smells and samples. They are, of course, teeming with people and obnoxiously loud. The noise, however, doesn't come from the customers. Rather like an American public market, these ritzy groceries consist of hundreds (literally) of singular shops, each vying for the business of the customer. And in Japanese tradition, this means yelling, and I mean YELLING to beg for business. Sometimes I wonder if anyone's ever heard one "Irrashai!" (Welcome!) too many and simply punched the offending yeller. Knowing the English translation of the Japanese phrases only makes "Ikaga desu ka?" (How about it?) and "Go ryou kudasaimase!" (Your business please!) sound less ethnic and more irritating after the millionth time.

Despite that, I like the Depa-Chika (Department-Basements). The noise makes them a bad place to go when hungry but one can easily fill up on sample after sample at any time of the day. OK, picture a Costco for yuppies where everything is normal sized and incredibly expensive (yet incredibly delicious and well made) and every sample vendor is yelling for YOU to come try THEIR stuff. Just don't come around once too many or they might give you the evil eye. I think I stopped caring after I lost that FOB feeling.

There's a little bit of everything there. Today I went New Year's shopping with my host mom and dad and sampled... cookies, crackers, sashimi, sake, pickles, gyoza, cheese, crackers, fruits... oh, you name it. And it's all great. Probably the most common type of stores in the Depa-Chika are keiki-ya or Cake/ Dessert shops. Good God the Japanese love fancy cakes. Nor just for special occasions either. Your friend sick? Take cake! Going for a visit? Take cake! Bored? CAKE!!! Oh, I'm not complaining. It's bloody expensive but well worth it. Truly, American desserts don't have anything on the Japanese drive for perfection.

I'm not so beholden with the Japanese cookie shops, as I do prefer my cookies less than cracker-dry. But I am impressed with the Pan-ya (Bread stores), another shop found both in Depa-Chika and, well, everywhere. The bread may be mostly white and usually sweet but there are oh so many wonderful and cheap varieties of it. I never really purchase gourmet snack breads but I do like to look. Every now and then I'm fed some strange "stuffed" bread by my family... and I still find the ones with hot dogs in them scary. I'm sorry, Japan, that is NOT sausage.

But really, the Depa-Chika are STUFFED full of everything you could imagine, especially during the holidays. I could have easily gotten sloshed off of sake and wine samples today if I'd played enough the part of an interested customer. Hell, not that even with the crowds there were around those booths. You'll find every manner of traditional and non-traditional foods. You want it, they got it. A first walk-about in a department store basement will be overwhelming and intimidating but I think I've mastered the art.

In Shinjuku, I think it's possible to do a grand tour of, oh, five or so Depa-Chika in a little under two hours with the right amount of skill and patience. Free lunch has never tasted or smelled so good.

see the constellation
I went again to Velfarre tonight, this time with a close friend. To ward off the creepy foriegn men, we pretended to be lovers, sometimes with amusing results. But like the second time I went to the club (and therefore unlike the first), I didn't feel the music. Whether the DJ was bad or my own level of "ki" wasn't high enough, I just didn't get into the groove. Erin did though and she danced beautifully and more fluidly than anyone else there. Japanese clubgoers, it seems, have a thing for stomping and jerking around but nothing I'd call dancing. Some come dressed absurdly simply to stand on the "Ladies' Only" platform and "dance" (read: rock back and forth on precarious heels) in front of everyone. Those that do are probably underage.

I've lost my taste for clubs entirely except as a chance to watch a rather amusing circus. I still want to go to Ageha, an "underground" and exclusive club on the oceanfront... but I'd consider that more of an experience than a "scene." Then I'm calling it quits from clubs until I actually feel the URGE to go... which will probably be never.

Last night at around 12PM, some guy I knew from a Spring term UO class last year (and a Tokyo native) called me and chastized me for staying in on a Friday night. Uh, excuse me? I'd just returned from the nabe party (fun but weird) and was about to call it a night. That party was the most social I'd been in ages... so don't tell me, Mister. I hate this thing people my age call "fun." I don't call it fun to drink and listen to NOISE for hours on end just to feel like you're adored by a bunch of other people acting like idiots. I have my own favored brand of idiocy, thank you, and it doesn't involve clubbing. I rather prefer sitting around, being crude, watching TV and playing video games. Maybe running around the town doing crazy things at all hours of the night... but not crazy things like picking up ho's and acting like asshats.

I hate Roppongi.

The cold coming back from the station tonight was really something amazing. We're in a "snap," I think, and it FINALLY feels like Winter. I mean Winter like I haven't felt since I last visited Montana in December... or Winter like we had when I was a child in Michigan. Last night as I slept, the rain turned to snow. Even though there wasn't any snow when I woke up, all day the wind blew strong and COLD and the day was a perfect winter clear. Again! I love this cold winter weather. I've been waiting for the real cold. I say BRING IT ON! Bring on all the bloody snow and blustery wind of the north country. Bring on Hokkaido. I've been waiting for the cold that wakes up the body and mind and splits the sky clean and clear. I've been waiting for the cold that slowly numbs and freezes until you can think of nothing else.

It's cold enough that even in Shinjuku the stars are bright and pure. I looked at Orion on the way home and thought again of the song I hear every time I see those stars.

Orion, Orion/ your stars are a shinin'/ through the winter night/ till sunrise takes me home

Tall, Cold One
That's me. Man, is it cold and WINDY today. Beautiful, incredible clear weather but... my nose is red. YAY!!

I went into Shinjuku today to talk to the same bitchy woman at the Japan Travel Bureau only to find out that no, I cannot infact make my reservations until AFTER the new year because they have some stupid system of rollover travel packages and the new ones don't come into effect until January 5th, when they reopen for businesses. GREAT. I have FIVE WEEKS. Yes, FIVE WEEKS of reservations in Kyoto, Okinawa, Hokkaido and Tokyo to make BEFORE February. How in God's good name am I to manage that? AAAAGGGGHGHGHGHHGHGHG. The Japanese, apparently, don't ever do anything until a month in advance. See, I'd really LIKE to get my hotel reservations done but I can't DO that until I know what dates I'm going to be where and I can't DO that until the travel agency allows me to reserve the travel packages I want. And the travel agents are all dumb bimbo secretaries who actually know NOTHING about travel information and in fact only want to promote JTB tours. FKINGARGHHH.

//rant

The bus ride to Shinjuku was actually one of the more interesting I've had. While fiddling with my keitai at the stop, an old woman actually started chatting me up amicably about how tall I was. Truly, my hipbone came to about her shoulder. She kept poking me and, in fact, I think she touched my boob. A really nice lady but threw me off enough that I couldn't find my pass when the bus came and held up everyone looking for it. It was in my pocket.

I immediately noticed the blind man as soon as I got on the bus. I almost fell onto his guide dog as the bus lurched down the street. A guide dog in Tokyo is a rare sight indeed. There are "sidewalks" for the blind, which consist of raised bumps, and there are some audio crosswalks, but by and large the Japanese blind are not very accomodated. Service animals are a new thing to the city.

This animal was remarkably well behaved. To get to a seat, I had to pretty much step over its head. And there was a large stroller rolling around precariously in the aisle nearby. Across the isle from the blind man and myself sat another character I see around the neighborhood-- an extremely mentally handicapped boy with his mother/guardian. As usual, when he saw me he got a little excited and tried to get up but was help back. The rest of the ride to the Go-chome stop, he grabbed himself in a rather inappropriate place. Eheh.

When I got home from my English lesson at 5PM, I noticed a delivery bike in front of the house. No, my Christmas package had not yet come... this was, in fact, a BEER DELIVERY BIKE. No joke. My host dad could seriously hold a kegger with all the Sapporo beer that's just been dropped off at our house. A case of forties and a few 6 packs of Asahi beer. I walked in the door as he was signing the order form and before I could stop myself, my jaw dropped and I said, in English, "That's a LOT of beer."

I think it's all for him. Gotta love the salaryman... part him from his beer and feel his wrath!!! Maybe it's a new year's tradition.

a confession
Before I go take my bath and leave for tonight's nabe (stew) party, let me first admit that I was wrong. This is not a bad place. Not Tokyo, not my neighborhood, not my house. Furthermore, it is not a bad people. All I have to do to see that is to walk for less than fifteen minutes through the streets behind where I live, away from the main drag and simply look at it all. There are the children playing, there is the laughter in the upstairs rooms, there are the men and women working and loving and caring about something. That is what I want to find.

I'm stressed and I'm lonely. I'm an alien and I'm illiterate. Furthermore, I'm isolated by my stature and my appearance or made into a disgusting... object. It's not that I'm being brought down by nothing... anyone can see that being a foreigner in a subconsciously isolationist nation is a lot of weight to bear. But I need to remember, in times like these, that I shouldn't take it personally. Even if I'm not happy, perhaps the rest of the world is. If they can go on living and loving and laughing, that's what matters.

To see that, all I have to do is walk outside my door, ignore the skyscrapers, and look to the low, squatting houses and the people within.

the lantern men
After Justin called me tonight, I took the LoTR: Two Tower's Extended Edition back to the video store. Fan-frikkin-tastic movie, if you ask me. I cried pretty much straight through it, which is something I can't say about the original theatrical release. I'm not pregnant so I must just be incredibly emotionally sensitive right now. Even TV commercials get me all worked up. Must be my regular Winter "thing."

Waiting at the bus stop, I saw a man walking with a plastic lantern shaped in the traditional Japanese paper-lantern style. In his other hand, he held an unlit industrial flashlight. As he came closer, I saw he wasn't alone but accompanied by another man carrying two long, rectangular sticks; the kind used to create sound effects in Japanese theatre. Every few seconds, as they walked, the stick man would hit them together. Other than that, they said nothing except to converse softly on occasion. When they passed, I saw that they both wore green arm bands with lettering and the lantern had a similar banner.

I thought this strange but not nearly as strange as when I got off the bus two stops down the same street and passed another pair in the same getup. But this time the lantern man had a megaphone instead of a flashlight. (He wasn't using it)

I can still hear them walking back and forth through the neighborhood, the beating of the sticks making a soft but sharp noise in the night.

Is it some sort of neighborhood watch? If so, why tonight? Why, in fact, at all in such a reputably safe area (-- eek! a predator on the loose? --)? Is it some sort of festive patrol? Why on Christmas of all days, when it holds so little meaning to the Japanese?

For all its crushing weight, Tokyo never ceases to amaze and confuse me. Go figure.

~.~
Not much to say about Japanese Christmas other than... "fried chicken" and "cake." I guess that's all it is here. My host family hasn't celebrated Christmas for years and made a valliant effort to do it this year for my sake... but it's just not Christmas. It felt forced and hurried and sort of pathetic. Afterwards, my host sister scurried off to hide in her room. I wasn't long in doing the same. So much for "no expectations," ne?

I think this whole experience is supposed to lend me some insight about how different life is all over the world and how, you know, America isn't the answer to it all. But instead I'm just sad. Why is there Christmas here at all, if not to try to be like America somehow and fail?

I don't like the things I'm learning. They make me feel bitter and resentful and that makes me feel old. It's impossible for me to already be settled in my ways... I'm only twenty-one! I guess saying it that way just makes nine years till thirty seem even shorter.

When I was a child, the world could do no wrong by me. If it did, I wouldn't remember it a day or a week later. And now I spend weeks and months mired in the same emotional bogs, and years even trying to fix the same missteps. This even when I remind myself there is no black and white. This even when I can still sometimes see the magic around me.

Forgive me for sounding like the blonde bimbo from American Beauty but I absolutely despise the thought that I might just be... normal. Normal boring thoughts, normal boring life, normal boring aspirations. Always grasping and always falling short. Uninspired.

Still, if "normal" means the same as almost anyone, that shouldn't be bad, should it? Being normal should mean that I'm surrounded by thousands of other people just like me. So, then, why do I feel so alone?

There are truths held still deep in my heart, but it's hard to place a lot of hope on those things. When the most important and wonderful thing in your life is also the most painful and most difficult thing and shows no signs of ever changing, it's not easy to want to go on with it.

When I was a child, the world could do no wrong by me and I could do no wrong by it. With one misstep, I might find myself chastised or punished but no further lacking to those around me. Now all I have is to speak one word or lift one finger and the entire castle walls come crumbling down. If I am good enough for one person, I am fallen in the eyes of others. I care too much or too little. I try too hard or not enough. Few are the times when I feel or hear that where I've gone and what I've done, or even where I am at the moment is just right. It's never good enough... to find that balance I have to push further, push beyond, push outside of myself.

And it's either pain and compromise for myself or pain and compromise for others. Such is the way of the world, I guess. I don't like feeling that things like this are the lessons I should be learning. Ignorance is bliss. C'est la. But I remember thinking that even when I was a child.

So. Pointless entry for a pointless existence. But I don't mean to be miserable and depressing... just to ponder if maybe I should be accepting the pointlessness of it all instead of damaging my ego looking for my own inspired purpose.

The truth is, actually, I think I know where I belong. But it's not a place that I can go. The one thing I want is the one thing I cannot have... and for all I've learned, I simply cannot begin to accept that.

Do normal people think this way?

Gragh, shove it and forget everything I just said. The truth is I'm just lonely and the only person who understands me is even farther out of reach than ever before. If there's no one to talk to, all this stupid garbage in my head goes up here. It doesn't mean anything.... just noise... that's all...

rumble
Man, I could really go for some Spaghetti right now. Or some... I dunno... home cooked anything. I'm getting rather tired of all the insta-prepared food I've been eating lately both at home and otherwise. Seems my family doesn't like to cook and while I didn't mind it at first, processed flavoring is starting to bother me. Where is my beans and rice? My roast chicken? Oh, right... not in Japan.

Actually, I'd really go for *anything* right about now. It's good that my appetite has returned but not so good that my family's dinner times keep getting later and later. Yeah, a 9PM dinner schedule is NOT OK with my body and me, thanks.

In any case, as you can see in the photo below, I'm turning Japanese... what with my round little face and purty yukata. The second photo is just... yeah... Pikachu picking his/her/it's nose. Ooookay.

Relax, go to it...
I stayed in my pajamas until 6:15PM today. I didn't even leave the house until about half an hour ago when I went to the video store to treat myself to the Two Towers extended edition DVD. I haven't got a fever any more but my stomache still feels as though, some time in the last two days, I consumed a fifth of rum. There's a rock somewhere in my small intestine.

I should be taking it easy but there's nothing that gets me as worked up as not leaving the house. I wrapped my presents, I swept my floor, I did my laundry but still... still... there's the lingering irritation that I should be out there DOING SOMETHING and not here in my room hiding from my host sister. I need to take it easy. Whether it's stress from travel reservations and travel costs looming over my head or from other unrelated reasons, my stomach pain is accompanied by a peculiar weakness and lethargy. Today was one of those days that it took me three times longer to do any little thing. Three times longer than my already slow usual. And I had to cancel a pseudo-date with some nice guy from the gym because I realized that as much as I want to push myself, I feel like death warmed over. If you know me at all, you realize just how hard it is for me to cancel plans or choose between a double-booked situation. I MUST DO EVERYTHING. It seems to be my drive in life.

So anyway, ugh, here I am. I'm torn between the desire to stay local and make all the money I can over break or to throw my puny earnings around going to Super Onsen and having me some New Year's debauchery. I'm frustrated because I want to be inspired by this city and amazed at where I am but instead I feel as if this whole place is cold and unwelcom...

[we interrupt your regularly scheduled programme]
//Uh. Yeah, so I actually just got a call letting me know I passed my first photo audition for a modeling job. And, um, I have an in-person audition tomorrow. With freaking Sanrio... for posters and pamphlets and stuff. If I get the job (which I won't, I assure you), shooting is on Friday and pays some $200-$300 dollars. Send me some good karma, please. I'm not rail-thin but I'm cute like Hello Kitty, right... RIGHT???//

Anyway, back to the bitch fest. I'm complaining because Christmas here makes me nauseous. It's utterly empty and cold. And I can't seem to connect with the Japanese because their idea of "friends" seems to be "drinking/ shopping/ toodling around" pals which is the same shallow crap I shy away from in the states but here accompanied by a language barrier that makes it NEAR IMPOSSIBLE to get around.

At least one thing I'm sure about is that I won't give up. I won't give up until the end. I may be bitter and cynical but I'm going to keep looking.

Riding the bus back from the video store, I tried to see some glimmer of warmth in the lights and noise around me. I tried to feel the Japan I see in anime... that wacky, happy, open-arms place... but I couldn't (and then I only felt like the pathetic geek-type I condem).

But when I got home, there were letters, pictures and postcards (still no packages, damn it!) waiting for me and I read them with tears streaming down my face. I won't give up. I won't give up. I'll find my inspiration even on the cold undertow of the city.

I'll wake up tomorrow refreshed and with a perky smile on my face nevertheless. I'm going to meet Sanrio. =D

A Holiday Tradition
I'm sick. Low grade fever and feeling like I was hit by a truck. No big surprise though... it always happens right at Christmastime. At least I made it to break.

Bleh.

rest
Mmm, nice day... beginning of break.

But ugh, I'm lonely. I miss my boyfriend, I miss American Christmas, I miss being something other than a novely fun-toy with which everyone loves to play. I think I may be getting sick, oh, and JUST in time for the holidays.

On the other hand, I think everyone in the Kokusaibu is just about as starved for human contact as I am. We're one happy little disfunctional family and I have actually grown rather fond of everyone. It's strange to think we'll be mostly together when we get back to Eugene.

I think I like it here, even without boyfriend and Christmas. Those things will come to me via airplane soon enough.

Thank God it's Winter Break. Finally.

In the Red
Greeeaaaaat... looks like the US is scare mongering again. So, um, excuse me if I'm wrong, but is THIS not a form of terrorism? When they say "the US will not be bent by terrorism," they mean JUST THE GOVERNMENT, right? Not the countless hundreds of people scared and inconvenienced by tightened security measures and warnings of "attacks worse than September 11th" but with "no known sites announced." This is bullshit. Pure bullshit. I can't wait until that retarded Son of a Bush is out of office.

Hakkone
I took three baths in the last twenty-four hours. I'm all poka-poka, as the Japanese like to say. I guess that soaking in onsen, wearing Yukata and eating umeboshi (pickled plums) means I'm a Nihon-jin now. =D

Hakkone was lovely, especially the Rotenburo (outdoor bath) attached to the hotel. It was crystal clear and cold, which meant that late last night I could look up and finally SEE the stars and this morning also enjoyed an early, bright-blue, cloudless sky.

I was really a bit disappointed in the whole experience though. With my (US) family, I'm so used to trying to actually get out and do something outside the city. But aside from hanging out in the hotel yesterday evening and this morning, we didn't actually DO anything in Hakkone besides drive there and back. I don't even feel like I really got to see the place outside of the hotel.

As soon as we'd arrived and even before the huge (HUGE) traditional dinner was set out in our room (yay!) my host dad collapsed from sheer exhaustion, didn't eat a thing, and didn't budge till morning. We all pretty much ate in silence except for the sound of the TV. If there's one conviction Japan has definitely furthered in me, it's that I hate TV. Hate it. Worthless piece of noisemaking junk.

And I don't know WHAT to say about my host sister. I'd hoped this weekend would bring us closer somehow but it just... didn't. For all my trying, the conclusion is that she's simply *weird.* I'm sure you want to know more from that biased and shallow conclusion... but believe me, that's all there is to say and that's all I can say without feeling guilty. It's not the language barrier, it's not that she's shy... there is something very "off" about the way she speaks and acts that results in miscommunications that would never occur between anyone who knew or understood what was going on. Based on the way my family acts around her, too, I know that they know it. She's on some pretty heavy medications... for what I don't know... but I'll leave well enough alone. I'm not going to be the one who can make her feel better or who can change the dynamic of this family, so I won't even stress myself out trying.

Anyway, the point is that I didn't sleep last night for some weird pacing and stuff she was doing in the hotel room at about 3AM. So I'm pretty tired today. The weather was so good, however, that I really could have gone for a hike rather than sit in the car all day. (Dad drives like a nutcase and nobody wears seatbelts!! Except me.) There was this beautiful countryside all around and I felt like stretching my hands as far out the car window as I could just to take it all in. When I asked on Friday if I should bring hiking boots, they told me it would be too cold in Hakkone to hike. Too cold? Cold, clear weather is *THE BEST* weather. Y'all city folk just don't unda-STAND. Snap.

As a gaijin, I was also apparently a bit of a rarity at the hotel. I ran into the same two guys coming to and from the bath several times and they loved to poke each other, giggle and make jokes at my expense. The first time they saw me, they were coming off the elevator and shook my hand. A few sightings later, we rode the elevator together and they asked me a few questions and made some quack about "O-furo, isshouni..." (Together to the bath...) to which my only response was to shake my head sadly, hand covering my face. The next few times they saw me they just giggled and poked each other some more. I guess I just shock the pants off of the Japanese while walking around in a Yukata. This morning on the way to breakfast, some fellow felt the need to tell everyone in the elevator how surprised he was that I was so tall. I don't think he knew I understood him.

OK, but the onsen were freaking fabulous. I don't know if they were naturally occuring and frankly, I don't care. Japanese baths are great. There were about, oh, four or five different varieties of onsen in which to soak. An indoor bath, a normal outdoor bath, a bubbly outdoor bath, an outdoor bath with some funky faucets and a little mini, bed-shaped personal bath that bubbled all over your backside. Not to mention massage chairs and a sauna. Ahhhh. YUM.

Unfortunately, having returned, I'm already stressed out again. Tomorrow is the last day of classes and I have due an 8-10 page research paper and a 6-chapter kanji test. Uff. I'm excitedly anticipating break but less so with the prospect of planning, by myself, five weeks of travel in and outside of Tokyo during Spring Break. Not to mention that I can't really afford any of it. But I'll do it anyway because eh, who needs money... it's just silly paper (or just plain make-believe if you factor in credit) and I can always make more. College is the time to be poor, right?

I'm going to go take another bath. THAT'S the answer to everything. I'll have pictures (including Fuji-saaaaaan) later.

Public Service Announcement
Contrary to "popular" belief, I do not write this journal for other people. While I may more than occasionally "address my audience" so to speak, the overall purpose of this Blog is as a place for me to rant, to rave and to collect my thoughts.

This is not a memoir, it is not a political or intellectual forum, it is not a plea for help or a cry for attention. It's just random... shit. Which brings me entirely to my point: you're here as readers because you want to be here. And you, if you've read long enough, you know I'm perfectly capable of intellectual thought, level-headed debate and the regular use of "BIG WORDS." Look, I can spell, I can use punctuation. I'm not all up in the "LyK OMGz 2dai we ALL wuz soooOoo DrUnk!!!1111<3 <3" In fact, I'd say that much more so than a large portion of the rest of the population, I am capable of holding a mature, adult conversation.

THIS BLOG IS NOT A MATURE, ADULT CONVERSATION.

I'm glad if you want to keep reading and I don't care if you don't. I will not a) stop whining or b) stop swearing for any readers friends, family or otherwise. This is my sacred space and I'm sure you have your own. This is the place *I* learn to cope with *my* feelings. It's not ABOUT YOU.

Therefore, if you really think a few swear words will hurt you, close your eyes when you're reading. The world is saturated by far worse things than teenage twaddle like the F-U-C-K word. I'm here to be off the cuff and if something pisses me off, I'm not going to sit down and play Wordsworth, I'm gonna talk about how it makes me feel.

So deal with it, o wise elders who told me to "never change for anyone." Deal with it or get out of my sacred space. THANK YOU.

[NOTE TO SELF: Hit 40K visits this weekend. Frankly, I agree that I'm vulgar and whiny... so I'm a bit surprised anyone would *want* to read this. Congratulations, Kat. *throws self a party*]

peace by piece
Today was wonderful. I just felt like making out with someone all day. (No worries, Justin.) That I would even want to extend myself toward another person (as I did today) is an extreme step in the right direction. When I'm upset, I'm usually so deep in that stereotypical "black pit of despair" that I can't even manage polite greetings or feign cheerfulness. I am indeed the Queen of Angst.

But not today. I just wanted to taaallllk and taaallllllk and looooove all the people. Especially the cute boys. (*wink*) I have been one majorly socially isolated (yet still overstimulated) girl till now. That's all gonna change if I can keep up this mindset. I ought to need people... that's the normal thing, right?

I finished Christmas shopping. Now I have the complete package, including presents for the stupid dog (who was humping mom's leg when I got home today). All I need to do is wrap it all and burn my sister her niiiifty CDs, which I shall do on Wednesday in a last-minute frenzy.

I'm almost done with my 9 pg. research paper. I just have to write a conclusion, put in the footnotes and choose a format for the Bibliography. Yay me. Tomorrow I have to give two in-class Japanese presentations. Guh. Monday is a bloody kanji test. Then I'm DONE for two weeks, thank GOD. About friggin time, don't you think?

So this post isn't completely pointless, allow me to mention a few things (three, to be precise, since I like that number) that made me happy today:

1. The man reading Dragon Ball Z manga on the Yamanote line platform while we waited for the train. (Weird, but it always seems that at least two trains going the other direction for the same line pass while we're waiting for our one.)

2. The girl wearing pointy-toed flats with her jeans. *That's* not special... but the shoes were bright, neon green. I followed her with my cell-phone camera taking pictures until she went into a cake shop. I think she knew I was stalking her. It's too bad you can't turn off the sound on those phone cameras.

3. The weather. Oh my gosh. Perfectly clear and cold. This is what it's supposed to be like all winter. A bit of wind, some scattered leaves, unbelievably beautiful. My favorite kind. When I walked across campus on an errand today, I wanted to dance for seasonal joy. I stared out the window all during class. Le sigh!

three things

1. There is a place in Shinjuku, beyond the lights and ads for the sleazy Kabukicho, where middle-aged housewives can pay Y5000 for one hour to take out their frustrations smashing plates against a blank wall. Venues like this (which you will never see advertised and can seldom glance) are apparently popular with the pent-up people of Tokyo. There are even places where, for the right fee, you can completely trash a pre-arranged room. Destroy it, feel better, live to see another day. Such is life in the city.

2. My host mom and I spent an hour or so last night talking about pets over a free magazine she picked up at a pet store. She simply looooooves animals and it's sooooo cuuuute. If only she had better taste than to pick a Shi-Tzu for a housepet. Anyway, what's interesting is that in Japanese, guinea pigs are called "marumoto" (read: marmot). When she pointed this out, I started laughing like crazy and tried to explain the difference in English between the two. Of course, Marmots don't maintain the silly connotation to everyone like they do to Justin and I (and now Rachel and Micah) but it was still fun to try and explain what a fat, lazy, silly creature a real marmot is. It's also interesting that the Japanese use the word "marmot" in the same way we use "guinea pig" to connotate a test subject. My mom gave the example of "Watashi, marumoto shitakunaiiiii!" ("I don't wanna be the marmot!!!") I laughed even harder.

3. Today the old man at the mom and pop flower shop made me smile harder than anything else here has so far. I stopped along the way to Baba station to buy my host brother and his new wife poinsettias for their apartment. When he saw me take interest in his flowers, he smiled brightly (and toothlessly?), barked "DOUZO!!!" ("Please" or "You're welcome to it/them") and then laughed a hearty, belly laugh either at my naive, gaijin face or his own joke... I'm not sure which, but either way the laugh warmed me up to him immediately so I stuck around. A radio in the shop was playing Sinatra's My Way and the shopfront smelled and looked like Christmas from the pine branches and string lights. When I selected two poinsettias, red and white, he looked delighted and exclaimed loudly "arigatou gozaimasu!" as if my doing him business was some sort of incredible honor. He gladly wrapped them for me when I asked and I watched his hands, calloused, filthy and well-worn as he carefully and lovingly tied the ribbon. This man was a real person. He waited while I fished for change and allowed me to put on my gloves before he handed me the flowers. When we made small talk about the cold weather before I left, he called Japan Nippon and his gruff voice was proud and strong. I thought to myself, this is a man with his heart in the past and, for a moment, so was mine.

Fushigi da ne?
In light of yesterday's extreme depression, today was a much better. Ah, the joys of womanhood. Even if I do have an overall negative mindset still at this point, I am at least developing a leaning toward the Japanese (Tokyo-ite) way of thinking: shouganai. They seem to love to say this. "Well, it can't be helped," or "well, that's just the way it is." That, "mendou kusai" (what a bother), and "sore, taihen desu ne" (Oh, that's a awful) seem to be favorites around here. Guess I'm not the only one. Except I don't have the money or the energy to drink away my weekend. What an alcoholic culture! *laughs* At least I'm staying away from the sucking void of LIQUOR... for the most part.

Anyhow, what I really want to mention are two rather mysterious occurences that have been on my mind. The first I saw yesterday walking from Waseda to Takadanobaba. A boy, college-aged, was walking down the street at quite the pace. Outwardly he appeard to be quite normal, dressed nondescriptly and carrying a bag. I only chanced to look at him because he hurried by quite urgently. But I noticed as he passed something really very strange... his shoes were utterly and completely destroyed. He was literally walking on the tattered remains of soles and canvas cloth, the carapace of the sneaker hanging limply off each foot. I could also see his right sock had quite a large hole thoroughly worn through the heel. It looked as though something had exploded out of his feet and decimated his footwear.

Looking at his shoes, you would have thought him poor... but the rest of him was quite normal. It made me wonder if his shoes were the reason he hurried so ... and what in God's name had happened to make them that way?

The second mystery is ongoing: in front of my house, two doors down from the vacant lot of the (ex)Ramen-ya is what appears to be an abandoned house. It was probably a shop in the past and its architecture suggests that it's been there a long time. The windows are dark, some are boarded over and the whole thing is falling apart. It sits close to the street, as do many of their neighborhood buildings, and therefore will have to be torn down and rebuilt in the construction. When I asked my mom about this dark house, she told me that, in fact, someone lives there and everyone wonders about him. As far as she's seen too, the windows are always dark and the house appears quite vacant... but sometimes a man can be seen entering and leaving and when he does, he always locks the door behind him.

*cue twilight zone music*

This has been your evening edition of Wacky Japan and two more reasons as to why I can't quite wrap my brains around this place. Ah well, shouganai.

Got no Motivation
I wanna go home.

I want to stop taking Benadryl to get to sleep. I want to stop having anxiety attacks. I want to stop waiting for the day the be over the moment it begins. I want to believe I haven't literally considered self injury and vomiting as a way of stress control when I'm freaking out.

I want to be enjoying all of this instead of looking for a way out of it.

I want some peace of mind.

STOP WHINING!!!!

Aural Aggrivation
I've always had sensitive ears. I hate the sound of yelling and of general human noise pollution... but I never gave much thought to "white noise" or city noise until now. The noise here is really getting to me, especially now that the building in front of my window that used to block the main street is gone. There is nothing-- no commute, no distance, no neighborhood-- to separate me from the city and it makes it impossible to unwind. As a result, I can't wake up or come down at the end of the day between here and school and, worst of all, I can't sleep.

For the first time in my life I'm walking around like a living zombie because my room is NOT quiet enough at night. And during the day I carry around a burning, passionate hatred for every f**ker on a motorbike I see because it's those asshats and their crotch-rockets that wake me up at all hours of the night. For just a few sexual favors, Chris-san is going to be giving me some earplugs (minus the sexual favors) and hopefully those will work without causing me to oversleep my alarm.

Without sleep I cannot function. Literally. I can't eat because I feel nauseous. I *hate* EVERYTHING and I'll cry or become disfunctionally neurotic over the smallest details. By the time I get to school at 9:30, I want the day to just be over. I haven't felt so crappy so early in morning the since high school... or maybe just since I took Depo and spent three months in hell.

Today some guy body-checked me in Baba station and I seriously, SERIOUSLY almost chased after him to kick him in the nuts. Didn't he see the "Don't F--- with me" expression plastered all over my face?!?! I try to be as obvious as possible. I mean, jeez. Then I full-body-checked the next businessman in my path just for retaliation. Hah. That'll show HIM. At lunch I made jokes about setting up a face-to-face meeting with the Chuo-sen (the Chuo line is an express train rather infamous for station suicides) except that I didn't really feel like joking around, I felt like just giving up. I started crying as I was walking to the gym. And working out didn't even make me feel better because all I did was get angry at all the wussy idiot Japanese men doing their lifts so wrong that 2/3 of them will end up with hernias and serious spinal problems within 5 years. MORONS!!! At least I have on my iPod one angry playlist to go along with such moods. Thank you, Apple, for encouraging me to take everything sooooo personally. (I hope you see the irony in that statement)

One of those (Mon)days, you know? I'm here in Japan. I'm actually here. For the first time I'm really, you know, doing something extraordinary with my life. This should make me feel good buuuuut I just find it disappointing becase it feels exactly like every other "normal" thing I've ever done.

I'm still more down than up. I still feel lost without purpose and cornered into taking aimless paths for unworthy aims. The worst part is that I am AWARE that this mindset (purposeful existence) is so American and so WRONG but I don't know what to do to change it. Obviously, there's something wrong with planning my happiness always to occur "after" my current situation is over and after I do something well or get something done. I can't seem to stop thinking that the "grass is greener" even when a perfect field is right in front of my eyes.

I know that it's all right here for me. I KNOW IT. I can see and feel a happy balance just beyond my reach but the fact that I can never seem to reach it only discourages me more. Maybe I just think too much to be happy. (Or maybe it's just not enough sleep, eh?!!?) But how does one stop thinking? Perhaps I was simply destined to be a cynic. Tra la.

And don't say it's culture-shock that's got me down... I know I'm culture-shocked still and it's also a drag not to be able to shake off that feeling. And yet, I feel this disenfranchised with life in America, too. I think simply haven't found a place for me yet. I'm hoping there is one.

Eep Op Orp
This week is gonna kick my arse and that's about all there is to it. I have to manage an 8-10 page paper on top of a tiring schedule. Did most of the research this weekend though... good but not good enough. I'd planned to write the whole paper over the weekend. I've gotta stop overtaxing myself.

Somehow, I need to learn how NOT to take forever on everything so that I actually have time left for relaxation instead of feeling as if I have to force or "take" time for myself. When I "take" time in the middle of everything else, I can't enjoy it because I always feel as if I should be taking care of some sort of obligation. Normal people don't feel this way. Normal people are capable of relaxation.

Kat wants some Prozac. Way to be American, Kat.

Dirty Money
If you thought you'd heard it all:

Today Keiko the whale died, some wacko offed himself on the exact spot JFK was shot and a garbage disposal machine in Saitama Prefecture started spewing out 10,000-yen notes.

Thank you CNN.com.

SNAPSHOTS
My list of strange and interesting things about this city has been compiling and only slowly leaking out into the blog. In an attempt to purge a few of the more interesting and/or bothersome things about where I live from my mind, I'll give you another snapshot of Shinjuku:

Knock-knees: I have seen so many pigeon-toed, knock-kneed, sissy-stepping girls in this city. I won't go so far as to say "Japanese women in general" walk this way because I don't want to stereotype (more than I already have) and I know for a fact that not ALL women do it. I'm not sure where this problem originates but I imagine that it has to do with one of two things: 1) poor footwear with terrible arch support and bad insoles (a definitely possiblity if you observe the common female's shoes and that these women tend to be those who walk knock-need) 2) a stylization of bizarre feminine fashion walk. I hate to think that number two might be true but it just might, even if on a subconscious level. If these girlies were broght up from kids without having their wacky walking corrected, it just might have evolved into something friends all did together. And it looks horrid and silly. I know, how culturally biased... but come ON.

Loan companies: Once I learned the kanji for "lend" and the names of major Tokyo moneylenders, I couldn't help but notice the signs everywhere, especially at night when they tower over the stations and bars. I don't know what the personal credit history stats are like here, but with the prevalence of loan companies, pachinko parlors and the strange presence of credit-card specific floors on department stores, I really have to wonder.

Icy Bums: In more than one way, this city is full of cold bums. There is, of course, the problem of homeless communities (-- if they're allowed to build houses, are they really homeless?--) but here I refer to the OTHER kind of bum. Japanese houses are typically NOT centrally heated but have either gas or electric heaters in individual rooms for temporary use. Really, similar to my apartment and other rental in Eugene. But here the insulation is so poor that if you exit from one heated room to go to another unheated room like, say, the bathroom, you quite literally just might freeze your ass off.

I'm really grateful that my family has cloth toilet-seat covers. Before, I just thought they were dorky kitch but now I realize (having used the toilet *without* them) that they're the only thing keeping the seats from retaining ambient temperature. Ouch. And taking a shower means undressing in a room that is not only unheated but usually has a window ajar. Ahem. BRR.

Kiddie Molesters: As far as I know, Japan is still considered pretty safe, except for the growing prevalance of obnoxious foreign men and a few gangster hold-ups every now and then. But I guess that kids are in enough danger from repeat robbers/ kidnappers/ molesters that some neighborhoods have taken to handing out pocket noisemaker alarms to all the elementary school kids. Parents seem to be really afraid of baddies carrying off their kids. There are, in fact, signs everywhere depicting scary, looming males (sometimes with knives), waiting to jump out on young boys and girls. I can't really read them but my guess is that they say something to the tune of "LOOK OUT FOR STRANGE CREEPY MEN!!!" Maybe it's a bigger problem than I originally thought.

Pets: Besides lots of ugly, ratty dogs, I've seen few pets in Japan. Some stray cats, a few stray dogs. But most interestingly, the homeless in front of Shinjuku at the bus depot have kept a rabbit in a cage for some time. At night and when it's particularly cold, they move it into the station. Today I noticed that they now have a pigeon in a cage too. Maybe it replaced the rabbit if it passed away. Maybe it was hurt and they're taking care of it. How on earth did they manage to catch it and stick it passively into a cage where it now sits like it's the happiest pigeon on earth?

Personal problems: A friend of mine is taking a class on Japanese medical history offered through the Kokusaibu. In doing research for a recent paper, he discovered a delightful bit of information that he gladly shared with us over lunch, "the prevalence of pads over tampons in Japan is due primarily to the fear and hesitation of Japanese women to touch their own genitals." Lovely, charming but true. There are probably a BAZILLION pad companies here who broadcast dreamy and sensitive ads all throughout primetime TV. But you never see a tampon ad and if you look at your local drugstore, you might only see one or two brands on the rows of shelves covered with different, ergonomically designed pads. I've been satisfied with what they've got, because if you ask me, a tampon is a tampon. But some girls can't find them "heavy" enough and some girls can't find more than boxes of 8-10 for outrageous prices. So much for variety. And heck, I don't care HOW ergonomic a pad the Japanese THINK they can design. I wore diapers once and I'm sure I'll be old and incontinent enough to wear them again someday. The thought of walking around with a sticky, skanky diaper plastered to my bottom while I'm in the throes of an already uncomfortable personal moment is utterly and dissgustingly unappealing. I don't know HOW people do it. There ain't nothing outside of a medical problem that could change my mind, thanks.

Then again, in the same vein the Japanese are a population still resistant to hormonal birth control because of a scare some years back that convinced women it would damage their delicate, Asian bodies. These days the number of women using protection is abyssmally low. Even condoms, the primary method of control, are often used as an afterthought and commonly discarded in embarrasing situations. Abortions are thought a legitimate method of birth control. I don't find this at all liberating, especially since you can "catch" a lot more from casual sex than a baby.

Stupid bicyclists: I know I mentioned bicyclists before, but I continue to be so (un)impressed by them that it's worth mentioning again. We pedestrians, due to a lack of bike lanes, share the sidewalk with bicyclists who: smoke cigarettes while cycling (I once saw two men on one bike doing this), carry umbrellas while cycling (sometimes in the street!), talk on cell-phones while cycling, are inebriated while cycling, balance children while cycling, and are generally incapable of distance percption (fellow with one eye patched and today saw one fellow with one eye obviously blind) while cycling. Hello? Regard for others? No wonder the sidewalks are so crowded. I'm really tempted to get as much in the way of these safety-hazards as possible but that wouldn only make it worse. I've seen at least ten bike/ pedestrian and bike/ car accidents since I got here and it *DOESN'T* surprise me. You won't EVER see me on a bike in Tokyo. Nutcases.

Food: Youd think that because rice is such a common dish here it'd be dirt cheap. Not so. Rice sale in Japan is limited to only certain producers and therefore results in the cost being about 5 times higher than it is anywhere else in the world. Despite that, my family throws away more food each day than I did each WEEK in Eugene. They don't keep their leftover *anything* and that includes rice, which is like GOLD here. They make a big (at least 2-cup) pot of it each day in the cooker... and though some of it is sometimes saved, most goes into the trash with the rest of the leftovers. Bah.

Nutcases: There's a crazy guy in my neighborhood. And he'd really, really like to be my friend. Truth be told, he's not a bad guy and not crazy in a malicious way but he obviously has some mental/ social malfunction that makes him a bit... weird. I first met him at my bus stop when he decided to ask me out. I thought at that time he was just a normal guy being flirty, but since then I've seen him on the bus maybe five times and each time he accosts me with smalltalk until I'm squirming uncomfortably in my seat and have to ignore him to make him go away. The thing is, he doesn't just do it to me... the guy LOVES to talk and will talk incessantly to anyone on the bus. Like I said, he's not a bad guy and he's VERY CHEERFUL but he crosses the lines of social comfort in a way that makes me think he's either a bit slow or maybe schizophrenic. The Japanese tend to ignore him in the same way I eventually do. Many of them don't even indulge his rambling.

I'd actually like to talk to him but I can't understand much of what he's saying except when he repeatedly tells me, in English, that he thinks I'm beautiful. He told me today I should break up with my American boyfriend to go out with him. Then he laughed and said "joke, it's joke," before striking up another, TOTALLY RANDOM conversation with the old guy sitting in front of me. Tres amusing.

Political Incorrectness: I had to explain to my new English client today (kind of a weird guy) that he should not, under any circumstances, refer to African Americans as "negros." He'd used the term several times to ask me about the demographic of America. I ignored it the first time because I thought I'd misheard... and his English is really poor... but then he said it again. At least he learned something at today's lesson. Where he hell did he get the idea it was OK to use the word "negro" in casual conversation? My head still hurts after that...

PICK ME! PICK ME!
I know that the rest of y'all Japanese bloggers have been 'round waaaaay longer than me but SOMEONE was nice enough to nominate me for the Asia Weblog Awards, so now I feel the obligation to say ... screw the rest of you....

VOTE FOR ME!!!!


*ahem* For you Net novices, this means clicking on the linked graphic above and selecting my blog from the menu at the bottom of the list, entering your email and submitting the vote. EEEZZZZ. For my router-networked (or just over-eager) friends, be warned that multiple submissions from one IP may result in this blog being removed from the list.

That is all. Go do it to it, yo.

'Tis the Season
My host family doesn't do much in the way of traditional or commercial Christmas celebrations, it seems. In a way I'm relieved but in a way I'm also disappointed. No matter how much of a bitter and cynical scrooge I used to be, the ironic truth of the matter is that no matter how hard now I try NOT to like Christmas, I just... have that Christmas spirit.

So after sitting until December 12th with no Christmas lights, no Christmas ornaments and no Christmas tree in the house, I finally decided to do a little holiday shopping. Spend money: that's the answer to everything right?

Actually, the truth is that I really do enjoy buying other people gifts. And at $10-$15 a pop, purchasing little things for my family won't bleed dry my wallet and is enough to show them (through American tradition even) that I care. Here's what I picked up/ am planning to pick up:

Host dad: Japanese translation of Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson in two paperback volumes. Am surprised at how much the novels look like manga from the outside. Dad likes Science-Fiction. How cool is that?

Host mom: I'm giving her one of my "tins" Burt's Bees lip balm since I now have enough to last me the next three years. You can't get that stuff here at all and I swear by it. SWEAR!!
Because she's an Elementary school teacher and has to deal with (I'm sure) a fair amount of stress each day, I'm thinking to get her either Peppermint Cooling Foot Lotion from The Body Shop or this "instant relaxation" on-the-go, stress-relieving aromatherapy lotion from Origins. Which do you think?

Host sister: I'm burning her one CD of assorted classical tunes and another of Yann Tiersen (composer from Amelie). Picked up a Miyazake Totoro flower pot kit for her. Maybe flowers will brighten her up.

Host brother: I wish I knew him better than I do, but I don't know him well at all. He has a new apartment, so I'm going to get him a mega-poinsettia to brighten up the place.

Lucky (the God-awful Shi-Tzu): I can't believe I'm getting this p.o.s. dog a present... but I know it will make my host mom sooooooo happy. And he's a smart fellow, if belligerent and obnoxious as hell, so the Love & Peace gourmet doggie treats I get him will make him happy too.

To top it all off, I picked up nice wrap and ribbon too. The only problem with buying gifts is that there is no Christmas tree to put them under.

Well, there was no Christmas tree to put them under until marvelous shopping karma-stepped in.

Even after I was lucky enough to find a tin of the German-style Christmas cookies I was looking for in the Takashimaya basement grocery and after I purchased traditional European design wrapping paper, I didn't expect to find my family the perfect, matching Christmas tree!

While in the stationery floor at the top of Odaku department store (so fancy it has people who work the elevator for you!) I chanced upon a shelf full of mineature German wooden, stand-up Christmas trees with ornaments. This sort of tree is a table decoration about 12-inches high. The tree-shape is flat with circles cut out of the inside where you hang the ornaments on tiny hooks. There are also hooks on the ends of the "branches" and pegs on the stand where you place more ornaments and figurines. The ornaments (angels, snowmen, toys) are all painted in a similar, traditional design. If you haven't seen decorations like this, you probably still have no idea what I'm talking about.

I immediately thought to get one for my room, except that I have nowhere to put anything. But I bought one for my family because I know that with the little amount of time they all have, there's a slim-to-none chance of even a mini plastic tree showing up at my place. No one does "Real" trees in the city... and Christmas probably isn't a big enough thing outside the city to merit them either.

With the matching old-style wrapping paper, cookies and tree, we're going to have a German Christmas!

My massive Xmas present has also arrived in Seattle on time... and I eagerly (almost evilly even?) await its dissemination. Teehee.

I like Christmas.

Update on earlier post and work in general: Disney Guy finally got back to me. We're meeting for one hour tomorrow and I also have a first meeting with another client. I still haven't heard from the sculptor lady so I'll assume that won't go through. The stupid modeling agency finally offered me another few potential jobs but I don't have my hopes up at all anymore. In lieu of all this, and that teaching english via to adult men via private lessons still makes me feel weird, I'm looking into another company whose sole purpose is to help foreign college students (like yours truly) find work with English clients. A friend of mine who is doing work through said company gets paid Y3500 for a few hours as a teaching assistant to kids. Sounds about right to me.

Meh
If I don't hear from Disney Guy soon I'm going to cry. Last week he said he wanted to have another lesson this weekend. Good thing, since I'm going to be of town NEXT weekend. But I haven't heard from him since Sunday, despite two emails asking him to send potential meeting times.

If I lost this client for some dumb reason, I'll be really upset. I need that money... and he could at least have the balls to email me if he doesn't want to meat anymore so that I'm not left hanging here. I hope he gets back to me soon.

pill popper
Why do the ravens talk to each other in the middle of the night?

I wish my back didn't hurt like hell. Either I bruised a rib or my backpack and posture are doing me some serious damage.

I wish I could relax enough to get sleep on school nights.

Beh.

*pops a Benadryl and an Ibuprofin*

I can't believe I'm resorting to using drugs to solve my problems. (But these were given to me by my MOMMY so it's OK!!! =D) I'd use a gun if I had it against those stupid birds... except that they're black and it's night and... well... they don't have much in the way of guns here so...

uh...

Right. Bye now.

*drifts off to la-la land*

Cleaning House
I spent most of this morning cleaning my room and doing laundry (yay.) rather than working out as I had planned (also yay.). In doing so, I discovered what a disgusting coat of grime covers(ed) my room and probably the entire house. I probably should have given the place a good wipe-down before I put my stuff everywhere... but it's a certainty that I wasn't up for that when I moved in. All I wanted to do was collapse.

I don't think this room has been cleaned in years. If you think I'm lying, take a look at this rag with which I wiped my two windows. Black. And no matter how hard I try to keep this room clean, within half a week, it again has a thick coating of dust. That's how poor the air quality is here. That, and I think the Japanese have a different standard of household cleanliness. By "different" I mean "bad." For a people reputed to be so excessively clean, I've never seen dirtier walls and floors, sinks and toilets. Blergh. I'm glad it's not *my* house (as in, I don't own it) because if I had some responsibility for its cleanliness I'd be going insane right now.

I left as soon as possible after I cleaned my room. Took myself out to Nishi-Shinjuku and ate some Okinawan food at a restaurant a few blocks from my house. Good stuff, aside from the mysterious meat products. I think I ate spam... and some other random pork product. But no real complaints, as it was quite tasty.

I also poked my head into the neighborhood dog clothing and accessory store. No joke. It's called Love and Peace. And what surprised me most was not its existence (as Japanese tend to favor not only ugly, ratty, whiny dogs but also dressing them up) but that there were several customers (with clothed dogs!) there at the same time as I! Wow.

I took the Yamanote line to Ikebukuro at Chris's recommendation and followed the Seibu Ikebukuro-sen out of Tokyo. For the few minutes I rode the Yamanote, I watched one of the Tokyo wanna-be elite as she stood in front of me. Picture: young girl in twenties, badly dyed (orange-ish) hair, western makeup, stilletto knee-high boots, chinchilla coat, Pinky and Dianne bag and Louis Vuitton keitai strap. I didn't know whether I felt more the urge to be jealous of her spending capacity or to "accidentally" scuff her shoes. Dum de dum.

The Seibu Ikebukuro line runs from the Yamanote (upper city) to the Shitamachi (lower city) and where I stopped was still close to Tokyo but less urban for certain. In fact, I rode the train several stops past where I intended to get off to the station called "Fujimidai" in hopes of glimpsing the elusive mountain. Alas, today was too hazy to see it but today was clear enough that I could see mountains out there, beyond the city, mysterious in the distance like the Olympic range. I don't know what they're even called.

At the stations you can watch the young schoolgirls roll down their skirts, which they've hiked up to "look good" for class, so that their parents won't suspect. The elementary school boys play games on the platforms and strangely their uniforms still feature short shorts in December. Why is this?

I took the same line back to Ekoda. It's the kind of place I might want to live if I were to stay in the Tokyo area. It has... atmosphere. Children. Dogs. Restaurants. Shrines. You can hear music being practiced in the upstairs rooms of houses.








I simply walked through Ekoda for a few hours... long enough to feel separate from the city in a way because I live so close:






And it was great; one of the last things I saw before I left made my day. A tanning salon called Black People. Really. That's the name of it. Hee hee heee. Silly Engrish!

Here are a few shots from Asakusa the other day. Senbei (rice crackers). Fans. And a Japanese Walk of Fame (or something?).







I don't know how I feel about the world right now. On one hand, I had a really good day, on the other I'm rather angry that two of my very good friends in Eugene were robbed this morning. My thoughts on that subject involve a whole lot of unneccesary cursing and general directing of death wishes toward the purpetrator. What a f*^%wad, robbing college students to finance some pathetic drug habit or other sorry reason. Merry Christmas to you too, Asshole. Bottom feeding... grah.... Yeah. I'm mad. Like, find-'em-and-gouge-'er-eyes-out-with-hot-pokers mad. Fun times.

Bo-nen-kai
Ok, so that was a real karaoke session with some real beer-drinking proceeding it and some real language exchange.

Good Lord Japanese people are funny when they sing karaoke with all their hearts. Tonight I witnessed Japanese men giving two of my (male) English-speaking friends shoulder rubs (including my dad) just because they liked them so much. Heeheeheeeee......

Ian-san says my host-dad is his hero. Watching him (my dad) sing with his arm around my gaijin friends made me think that he's quite possibly *my* hero too. I laughed SOOOO hard. Especially when Ian and Kaleb "sang" rap songs. My God they were bad (SO SO BAD)... and my God was it awful when they sang along with me and so drowned out my voice with their off-key singing that I couldn't hear the music. But everyone had a fan-freaking-tastic time. After today's brutal full-day of classes, tonight was really awesome.

Uh, and yeah, I sang Barbie Girl. Heh. I never realized how stupid and dirty that song is until now. I also karaoke-d Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (Madonna), Larger than Life (Backstreet Boys), All for You (Janet Jackson), and California Dreamin' (Mammas and Pappas). Sweetz0rs.

bitch and moan
Ugh, if I gain another kilo I'm seriously going to... gah, I don't know what I'm going to do. All you whiney suckers who were like "ooh, you'll lose so much weight eating the *healthy* Japanese food": blow me. Their food here is only healthier than American-style cooking if you eat like an American. And I don't. Didn't. I ate healthier and worked out more at home. So now the damage is being done and I HATE seeing/ feeling it happen.

The problem is, the source of it is entirely out of my control. I don't like someone else feeding me. I like being able to choose what I eat, what goes into it and how much of it I consume. My host mother is constantly giving me too much food and I am constantly, habitually, unconsciously eating it all both because I'm hungry and because I was raised not to waste food. On top of that, she's always like "oh no, no, have more" and pawns of on ME the family leftovers. EXCUSE ME??? I seriously have yet to see this woman eat an ordinary-sized meal portion. She barely eats anything.

I can't deal with someone else being in charge of my eating schedule and consumption. Thank God it's only for a year because I can't wait to get back to making my own meals again. >.< Not only is it nearly impossible for me to, without guilt or commentary, leave food on my plate but I can think of no good way to bring up a conversation revolving around the topic "please feed me less" when I'm always ravenous anyway. This leads me to the...

Second problem: I'm constantly hungry anyway. My metabolism flies through this food and leaves me half the day weak and with a hunger headache until the evening when I no longer have any self-control and munch from 7PM to midnight. What a fatass.

Maybe I'm hypoglycemic or something? I seriously need to eat SOMETHING every few hours or I feel ill.

The real problem second is that I can't see myself eating any LESS without becoming even MORE lightheaded and irritable. I'm not consuming sweets in unusual quantities or drinking alcohol in any amount that might promote weight gain. I'm just being fed more than I would normally eat in one sitting.

Third Problem: I. Don't. Have. Time. To. Work. Out. ARGH. With the commute and homework and everything, it's just not possible. And the most aggrivating thing is that while everyone ELSE seems to say "ooh, I walk so much moooore here" (lazy f-ers), I walked/ biked/ whatever so much MORE in Oregon.

So while I've only put on, maybe 4 or so pounds since I came here... I'm seriously in trouble if I keep stacking it on. There are no replacement pants in Japan. And putting it on is so much easier than taking it off. Stop it. Stop it now. Before there's actually more of a visible effect.

Bleh. You know, I know what it is. It's the carbs. Carbs, carbs, carbs... that's all the Japanese eat. White starch and refined carbs. I don't want more meat... I just want less... white... gluten... stuff. Hmm. Well, put up and shut up I suppose. Because until I can justify starving myself, nothing's gonna change.

I know, it shouldn't matter. And I look FINE. But the pants thing gives me a CONCRETE reason to complain. And you would too if it felt out of your control. So lemmalone.

change
I write this post as proof that the Gods sometimes still smile on me in excellent, excellent ways. I'm so giddy right now that my heart is pounding... but that may just be due to the four mugs of Black Tea I've drank in the last few hours. Uhhh.

Uh.

So yeah. English client number two? The Disney Guy? Really. Freaking. Awesome. Not only does he end start and end our lessons when he says he will but he's also shown no sign of wanting to be my boyfriend. He seems to only want to practice English. But besides that, he is quite possibly the best contact I've ever made. I don't think I've ever met someone with as many cool opportunities afforded them by a job. I can't believe my luck.

Now, this guy himself is in no way "famous." But he's a honcho at Disney... and in Tokyo Disney only has 200-some odd employees so he's pretty high up there on the ladder. Like "three weeks ago he was chatting with Mamoro Oshii" high up there. (Not to mention Miyazake, Orlando Bloom, Johnny Depp and the director of Finding Nemo/Toy Story.) And he's not bullshitting me either. I've seen keitai pictures of his office (with all the free samples of toys he's marketing!) and I have his meishii to prove it.

Plus, I now hold in my hot little hands a free copy of the collectors edition Naussica of the Valley of the Wind DVD. Region 5 (or whatever Japan is) nonetheless. But it has English subs. And a bonus-feature disc with previews for the next Miyazake film and the new Oshii film Innocence that's coming out next summer.

He releases products for Ghibli, Disney, Pixar and Square. You want to know who's going to be in Kingdom Hearts Two? What Toy Story Three is about? Yeah, those are some of the random things we talked about today. And I got paid to do it. I'm honestly contemplating ways to make myself a better English teacher just to make sure I can keep this client.

Now, before you assume I'm being a star f***er here or that I might crush out on Disney Guy, reconsider: This guy has contact with pretty much everything I consider awesome in Japan-- Ghibli, Square, Pixar... anime, computer graphics, game design. That I ended up with him as MY ENGLISH STUDENT makes me feel cool beyond belief.

Neither am I implying that I "use" Disney Guy in any way. Just talking to him is really fun because he LIKES talking about his job and what sort of things his position requires him to do. He is, in fact, learning English for that very reason. And his English does need work. I help him, he helps me. It's a win-win situation.

floating world
I like the colder weather. When it's cold, I can always think more clearly. But even now, I feel sometimes as if I'm living in a dream world, surrounded by mysterious colors and voices, floating through an existence in which I truly take no part but at the same time create entirely for myself.

I feel drunk now, even though I'm far from it. Tired, more than anything, but distant and preoccupied in a way that I become only when inebriated. I feel as if time has slowed to a crawl and I'm making my way through molasses. Except in Tokyo that molasses is liquid light crawling with other, slower people.

It's only 10PM but it seems as if I've been up for days. Maybe I didn't get enough sleep last night. Seven hours is pretty much the standard amount I can get anymore, so it's no different than usual. But this morning I got up and left early (for a Saturday) to meet friends at Asakusa. Asakusa is a very interesting place and, it being my third time there, I'm still not sure what to think of it.

It's one of the few places they say retains the "original flavor" of an older Tokyo. In a way, I find this to be true, as the area surrounding the Sumida River and the temple there has a certain aire of nostalgia. But, in a way, it's even more touristy than the larger, flasher city districts. It's one big shopping mall just like the rest of Tokyo. An older-fashioned shopping mall but another money pit nonetheless. And in this money-pit, the vendors will try to talk to you in English like you're a stupid tourist if you even RESEMBLE a foreigner.

I like Asakusa, really. It's an interesting place. But being there longer than two hours amongst the throngs of consumer-crazed Japanese and tons of tourists makes my head swim. I've had a headache all day.

I took some good pictures. Too tired to edit them and put them online though. Maybe in a few days.

Friends. Now there's an interesting word to write. I realized the other day that I do consider many people in my program to be my friends. I don't just empathize with them; I feel strangely close to them. With that mindset, suddenly, I'm not alone at all. There are a good many people I would consider my friends these days; people who seem to put up with me in return, through all my constant venting and bitching. Why they like me, I don't know. I seem to have an air of infamy about me wherever I go... but that's probably for the usual reason that I simply speak up too much and too often in class like the intellectual exhibitionist I am. No one seems to hate me for it though. I always wonder why.

That as it is, there are still a good number of people in the program (OUS and otherwise) with whom I remain disgusted. What prompts OTHER people to like THESE idiots is beyond me. It may be the same weakness that allows them to like ME for all I know. Social etiquette, although simply executed, will always remain a mystery to me.

My host mom and I just got done talking for an hour or so about my recent Japanese class grammar and vocabulary lessons. These days, it feels like I take one step back for every two steps forward. I'm still progressing but also continually disappointed in myself. There are just SO MANY aspects to this language. Unlike Romance languages, the primary focus in Japanese is not the direct translation of romanized words and phrases but the translation of CHARACTERS into SOUNDS and then those SOUNDS into WORDS and the WORDS into English. On top of that, you have grammar, politeness and humbleness structures, NOT TO MENTION kanji. It's ridiculous. I sincerely hope that accomplishing this much learning is changing my brain for the better.

If not, I guess it'll all still have been worth it.

Mata, ne.

puppets
Tonight at the National Theatre I watched Bunraku, or Japanese puppet theatre. I swear, only the Japanese would make something so troublesome and so precise for the sake of storytelling. Not only is each child-sized puppet a complex marionette but also takes three people to operate... one for the right arm and head, one for the feet and one for the left arm. To top it off, all the puppeteers but the main head/arm guy wear black hoods (Reminiscent of clansmen). ALL the lines in the story are narrated and sung by one man accompanied by a shamisen player. Truly entertaining.

In case you're interested, I've also posted pictures of my host brother's wedding in this directory. Like I said, great dress, fabulous cake. Take a look.

booby prize/ booty call
This weekend I'm going to be meeting with a sculptor to perhaps earn my keep as a model. If I can accomplish this one thing, I should be entirely set on income for the rest of the year with or without English clients.

Of course, as all great lessons in life are, whether or not I get this job is completely out of my hands. The sculptor has to want me because I match some idea she has, not for my experience, skills or any particular measurements I have.

This sculptor is a very well-known artist who often sculpts from clay the life-sized busts, figures and profiles of foreign women. She has, in fact, used girls from the Waseda Kokusaibu before. Our program coordinator showed me a published book entirely comprised of photos of these works.

One of the other girls in this program and the only other girl from Oregon I would consider "model material" (moreso than myself by far) already interviewed with the sculptor. For the interview and sketches alone she was paid $70 but was told that she was "too athletic" for what the woman wanted. Hearing this, I felt a bit of (argh!) hope kindle in my chest. Maybe I can get modeling work and keep my ass after all!

It's not fair for me to get my hopes up for such a thing but there is a small voice in my mind that says I deserve this, I want it and I have the face for it. Pick me, pick me! I am, however, nervous about it even though I'll do nothing but sit when I meet the woman on Saturday or Sunday. That she can afford to pay her models so much and be as choosy as she is (the other girl is drop-dead gorgeous, IF too skinny) tells me that she is definitely a well-established and well-to-do artist. Am I good enough?

Please, God, I hope so. Wish me luck.

But I have come to realize recently that my appearance has afforded me some benefits. While other gaijin women around me are repeatedly harrassed, fondled, propositioned and pushed around, I am left untouched. This leaves me to consider three possible reasons why:

1) I'm really, really ugly and men want to be as far away from me as possible.

I know this isn't true. Discard.

2) I am, in fact, so exotic and pretty that many people consider I must be a person of great importance (read: model or actress) and therefore shy away and don't even imagine approaching me.

I'd LIKE to think this is true but since I'm very obviously a student and I still think I don't look THAT good, I can discard this option, too.

3) I'm tall enough-- I actually hit my head on the door to my house, bus and train if I wear heels-- built enough --I do have some nice pecs if I say so myself-- and wear enough of a "don't f--- with me, Tokyo," facial expression with me that men would never consider speaking ill of me for fear that I might kill them.

This is probably true.

I'm flattered to see people stare. But other than a few exceptional occurrences (three drunk guys, the crazy man in my neighborhood, the "I love you" boy and my English client), no one whistles, catcalls, honks, makes dirty comments or propositions me.

I'm pretty happy with this result.

fatalist
NOOOOO!!!! I'VE BEEN JAPANIZED!!!!!!
Why? WHY does today suck so much?

Out of the million things on my list to do on my day off, I have about half done, I've still spent the whole day busy, I didn't even get to the gym and I'll probably be working on random $h!t until midnight anyway.

But at least one entertaining thing happened that's worth writing about. My hair. They took my hair.

I left the house about two hours after I wanted to, bought a few things in Shinjuku and then hurried to Baba so I might have time to get a haircut before my English lesson. I had planned to go to the Japan Travel Bureau office in Shinjuku station this morning but I didn't have time. Probably a good thing because when I looked for it later today, it wasn't where I thought it was.

As is, I had about an hour and one flier that entitled me to a free haircut at a beauty school near Baba station. You know, eh, I figured I'd give them a shot because if they fucked it up too bad I could just pay someplace to fix it anyway. Well, by the time I get there, I have about 1/2 hour free for the cut. Never really takes longer than that in the states... but I should have figured... THIS IS JAPAN AFTER ALL.

The woman understood perfectly well that I needed to go by 2:30 but still had some routine she felt it neccesary to complete, including a full shampoo/condition AFTER she cut my hair and even though it was 15 minutes past when I needed to leave. She would have given me a shoulder massage too had I not told her to cut it out and left.

It would have been relaxing. Would have, if I'd had more time, as is the same with ever exasperating stupid &^$ing thing here. Would have, if I hadn't already been aware what she had done to my head.

It's not so bad. I told her to take off about 3cm. I also told her to layer it a little. A little, I said. I didn't suspect anything until I noticed the interesting sensation of what seemed to be her combing the back of my head after she trimmed me. Hmm, that's a nice feeling, thought I, I wonder what she's doing back there. Thank you, subconscious. One should never think that particular thought in a doctor's office, hair salon or piercing parlor, I have learned. And no matter how Zen I am sometimes at letting the end results be what they may be, I was still horrified to find out that she was, in fact, hacking at my hair with what appeared to be a saw-blade butter knife to give me the JAPANESE version of layers... which involves fraying the hair into nearmullet and probably causing irreparable damage.

But, like I said, it's not so bad. I probably saved myself with that "sukoshi dake" (a little only). I'm just angry I there was nothing I could have done or said to figure it out beforehand. My hair is white person hair and well-treated at that, so I look fine. What frustrates me is that the end result took off a lot more than 3cm and will grow out funny due to the god-awful-fashion-victim layers. Right now my hair probably appears about the same as it did when I got it cut before I left Eugene. Which is... eh... fine. And since I'm not planning on getting it cut again here, it should be nice and long again by the time I leave.

AAAGH. And I'd hoped so much to be able to braid it soon. I'll have to wait forever now. NOOOOOOOOOooOOoOO.

My hair. My beautiful, long, blonde hair. My American hair. I suppose, you know, when in Rome. But no. If I ever find a pair of those pointy shoes in my room and learn *I* bought them, I'm shooting myself in the fucking face.

I'm not sure whether that's sarcasm or truth. I've already bought Japanese shirts, boots and purse. A coat is next. The hair is just hair though. As much as it irks me, it will grow back fast.

So, yes, I could leave it at that, but the story of my irritation continues. I was also 20 minutes late for my English lesson because of my haircut. And of course the woman knew and asked me "jikan daijoubu?" (is your time ok?) and I answered her yes and smiled. Because this is Japan.

I wasted $2 on the bus to get to my lesson a little faster. Then ran from the bus stop and scraped about half the skin off my left knuckle dodging some knock-kneed high-heeled fashion-victim tottering down the street. Because this is Japan.

My lesson was fine anyway, although I momentarily considered homicide or suicide if I'd lost my clients because of that beauty school ... woman. Afterwards I still felt like falling over dead from emotional exhaustion so I decided not to go to the gym and even though all I really wanted was a hot latte, it wasn't right to be both lazy AND fat so I just walked back to the station.

I was going to look into working at a bar near Baba today but when I got there at 5, it still hadn't opened. And I can't imagine any part-time work that starts after 6PM doing anything but killing me slowly. But I may be sitting in for an artist in her sculpture studio starting this weekend. Any work is good work, really. But I don't want hours and contracts at this point.

I must be doing better though, because even though today sucks, I don't really care. I was even humming and whistling on the way back to the station when I should have been berating myself for missing my workout.

The truth is, my "ugh" feeling is just normal now, which means that in the grand scheme of things the "up" will just seem MORE up. I've also learned that going with the flow means that I should stop giving a shit about getting everything done and even being on time with what I do get done. If it needs to get done, it will get done. If money needs to come, it will come. If God decides to strike me dead tomorrow, so be it.

I can't see the future and I need to stop trying so hard to plan every minute of it down to perfect detail. As this place is proving, I can't even predict what to expect five minutes from now.

So I'm fine with crappy days. Because they happen sometimes. Or even a lot. But that's OK... it doesn't matter if I study. It doesn't matter if they ruined my hair. It doesn't matter if my hand hurts. It doesn't matter if I work out or not. If I choose to do something because I think I can see how it will end, I will only find that I am wrong.

Goodbye Cassandra complex. Hello fatalism.

But I'm still pissed off about my hair. You know what got me through the day though? Japanese old people. They may be slow but damn are they cute. Even with terrible osteoporosis and such, they're just so... classic. My bus was full of them this morning. And what's even better than old people in general is old men who smell pleasantly of coffee. I had my very own coffee smelling man sitting next to me today. And it kept me humming even through it all.

Thursday, here I come!