Well, I'm off for the Naked Man festival for real tonight...big awesome stuff on Monday, I promise!
I just ate most of a roll cake for dinner and I'm feeling pretty gross about that.
I had class at Nishitosa today. It's one of my favorite schools--the kids are all interested in foreign stuff so it's easy to keep their attention, and the teachers just want to make class fun. I even enjoy just being in the staff room and hanging out with the other teachers.
A couple of months ago, they took it upon themselves to teach me some slang phrases to use in class, mainly for shock value. Every once in a while, one of the teachers or students will say something silly to me and I'll blurt out "Zakennayo!" (Don't be messin'!) or "Ahondara!" (You fool!) much to everyone's amusement. (A word of advice: try to sound like a 50 year-old man who's been smoking since the age of 12 to get the full effect.) Anyway, today I did it, and one of them asked me to do it again and I had the distinct impression of being a giant tickle-me-gaijin doll; perhaps if I had a pull tab they would just keep pulling to see who gets the funniest response...
(Which is, of course, SPOON!)
I'm wondering if you all will forgive me if I just switch to Wordpress with an icky layout simply so that I will have less to catch up on when I finally decide on a layout.
I continue to be without hot water, but hopefully it will be fixed tomorrow. I had to shower at work this morning because I just couldn't stand it. Ick. Same tomorrow. Hey, at least I get to sleep later.
Today was strangely warm and I am hoping it stays that way. I could've done without the rain, though. Hm. On second thought, warmer weather means I have no excuse for not exercising. Yar, the pain for gain!
I like cheese.
That is all.
Today has been a truly evil day.
It began with me discovering that my water heater is broken and that I wouldn't be able to shower. Those of you who know me know that I am one of those people who MUST SHOWER. It's not a question of appearances, it's a question of sanity; most people need coffee, I need a shower. I am going to hunt down whatever gremlins are responsible and kick their asses. Into the middle of next week, no less.
The day at work went smoothly, but much to my disappointment, I came home to find that they had yet to fix my water heater. Tomorrow will be the second day of filth and I don't know if I can stand it.
I came home and began fiddling with some graphics for a site I'm working on but nothing would work as intended. I spent half the evening screaming at my computer with visions of silicon busting against the pavement. My neighbor probably thinks I am certifiable by now, especially after the number of times I yelled fuck at the water heater at 7 am this morning. I'm going to go to bed now, so hopefully I will miss anything else that goes wrong today. And I'm gonna knock on wood, because, hell, after today...
Cue the butt trumpets, it's Valentine's Day!
I treated myself to some shopping last night and this evening I pampered myself with a tasty fried chicken dinner fit for a queen. I figure I should actually do something romantic today, so I'll tell you all about something I love.
Computers have always held a strange fascination for me. I remember playing games on the Apple IIe in elementary school, listening intently as my stepfather explained the intricate inner workings of certain microchips, and secreting the com-dec section of the encyclopedia away under the covers at the babysitters'--to read the story of computers while the house slept and the wind howled. I stared in awe at the first, and only, 12-inch floppy disk I'd ever see. I suppose it's surprizing that I haven't ended up working more closely with computers; perhaps in another life I'd have been one of those cloistered programmer geeks, saving my pennies for a Sinclair or a Commodore. But even as I am, I keep coming back to these wondrous creations, wondering just what they mean to us humans.
What puzzles me the most is how anyone could ever have conceived of such a niche and its need to be filled. Computers mean so many things to so many people, yet somehow they're just fancy ways of reading and making ones and zeros. Think of allthe things you do with your computer, and try to imagine all that beautiful machine language running through it all--fast, fluid, working before your eyes to turn a series of millions of switches and connect two people halfway across this heavy, round earth. Whoever said that technology will dehumanize us must never have talked to her mother over miles and miles of Pacific, or sent an email to the father he misses so much. The beauty of these crazy human things gives me tears of joy; computers reflect everything our silly minds can dream or scheme of. And so it is to these curious and genuinely human machines that I send my Valentine today, in the purest childish affection and admiration. Please be my Valentine!
I had two dreams this morning. In the first one, I dreamt that I got a boyfriend. This guy--on whom I have had a mini crush for the last year or so--asked me out. We started dating and I was all happy and giggly. What a sweet Valentine's Day gift from my head! Then I had another dream. In this dream, a ROCK STAR moved into the apartment next to mine. He came over to visit and invited me over and I was all impressed that this ROCK STAR came to live in Taisho and bribed (threatened?) the vice-principal into giving up his apartment. I was doubly impressed that the apartment, which is supposed to be identical to mine, actually has 20 foot ceilings, skylights, and antique 50s decor, all of which said ROCK STAR took great pleasure in showing off. It didn't hit me until I woke up that this guy asking me out is about as likely to happen as a rock star moving into the apartment next to me. (Never mind the 20 ft. ceilings...)
Fuck you, too, head!
Last night's drink fest was fun, though I've discovered that if I drink and sit (as opposed to drinking and dancing or karaokeing), I fall asleep. I didn't even drink that much, but jeez, how lame am I?
Today I am trekking over to the city to bake cakes and cookies for the Genki Seinenkai musical fundraiser. This weekend will be full of baking because Monday is Valentine's Day and in Japan, just because they like to take all western holidays and turn them on their heads, WOMEN give chocolate to MEN. Holy pecan truffle, Batman! What is up with that? Why would women ever give up a chance to get chocolate? Exactly a month later, on March 14, they have "White Day", on which day men reciprocate...with COOKIES. HOW IN THE HELL WERE COOKIES EVER AN EQUAL EXCHANGE FOR CHOCOLATE?!
I am sitting in my apartment right now waiting for two strapping young lads to come steal away my coffee table for the night's festivities. I am also providing my barbarian neighbor with plates, silverware, and cups because SHE DOESN'T OWN ENOUGH FOR A PARTY! HOW LAME IS THAT, HUH? We are having a party at Paige's house tonight, and it's sure to be marvellous as soon as I transport half my humble abode down the street to her place. I HEART the gaijin drink fest!
Obviously, Valentine's Day just has poo written all over it. At least according to the Japanese, who sell chocolate turds in every conceivable size from unchikun (shit-boy) to poo-chan (little shit-girl). Each disgusting confection has two dot eyes and a little red smile because shit is happy. At least it saves me the trouble of being cynical about Valentine's Day--just another shitty day.
They also consider it appropriate to make fake disembodied boobies in pink and white chocolate. Sometimes these are sold in small baby bottles or plastic disembodied boobie boxes. Try saying that one 3 times fast.
Tonight we had an enkai (drinking party) for the infamous Grey Ojisan of science. There is something irrefusable about drunken, smiling, red-faced Japanese people offering you sake, so you drink and drink. They think you are a strong drinker, but really you just can't keep track of all those little cups.
You see, this is how the Japanese plan to take over the world. They will get us all drunk on sake and hempai us and send us on our merry way. Then, when we are sleeping off our hangovers in a gutter somewhere, they will totally just take over. No hostility needed. It's the perfect plan.
I was mistaken. The Naked Man Festival is on the 19th, but I am still so going. It will be excellent.
Speaking of excellence, I hope you have all had the opportunity to consume Snyder's of Hanover Honey Mustard and Onion Pieces of HEAVEN. They are made of pure moral goodness and are so tasty that even Japan imports them.
I'm just out the door to Kochi City for the weekend. We'll have rehearsal for the musical and perhaps a trek into Okayama for the Naked Man festival...more later!
I have lived as if in a dream these last few days. Tuesday morning woke to fat white flakes in a grey sky and converted my little ghost town into a fairyscape. My concerns became as blanketed as my car and I just reveled in the snow as a child, barely noticing the cold. Everything in sight was made new and clean of my weary thoughts.
Wednesday morning I trudged through the snow to work and settled down to my computer in the comfort of that delicious hot inside, cold outside dichotomy, but part of me longed for a cold, wet snowball fight to make my warmth complete. Miss Yamasaki approached with the perfect plan: to build a kamakura, or snow fort.
We bounced outside and grabbed shovels, and as we returned to the front entrance of the school, she noticed a small bird huddling in front of the door. She handed it through the office window to Miss Takebayashi, who held it so gently and sweetly--it was the purest characterization of her shy soul. Miss T. kept the bird in the office a while to warm up and then released it later with kindness and joy. I wish I could have taken her picture at that moment because it is the image with which I hope to always remember her.
We built the fort over the course of three hours--shoveling, packing, shaping, digging. It felt so good to use my body to make something tangible. Just before lunch, we sat in the fort together drinking coffee and laughing like children. I have been reminded in the last few days why I came to Japan and have realized how much I have come to love this place. I can feel the sweetness of it in my heart, which will surely break when I leave. Somehow, I miss it already.
I spent the evening reading in the comfiness of my home and nursing a sore back from the day's merrymaking. There is lots of snow here and lots of thoughts are bubbling in my head right now, so I promise a decent posting in the morning if I can find the time. Tomorrow is English Day at Shimanto, but there is a lot of snow in between the students and the school. Personally, I am knocking on wood for another snow day because, well, who wouldn't?
Nothing great for you this evening, just some business to sort out:
To those of you concerned/interested/confused about the boys and emails post, don't worry. It was intended to be obscure and more as an instructional comment for the males who read this blog, as a favor to their love interests/significant others. (Don't be obscure like I was--just because I do it doesn't mean you should!) Everything is fine, I am not going crazy, and I am not upset.
In other news, it snowed like hell today for the first time this winter (!) and Taisho is covered in a blanket of pure white ass. This is annoying. The softie in me likes the snow and took several pictures today while the grinch in me grumbled about frostbite. I promise to write something adequately romantic and sickening about the snow tomorrow if we don't have class. (Knock on wood!)
Just when I hit my moment of deepest despair, when it seemed all the world, including tuk-tuk drivers and email-writing boys alike, hated my guts and wanted me to die, the unexpected happened:
Mike fucking posted a comment on my blog.
Many of you may not know Mike, who HASN'T UPDATED HIS OWN SITE since MAY of LAST fucking YEAR. Suffice to say that if you don't know Mike now, you probably never will. Allow me to paint you a picture in lieu of his own words: It is 3 AM. A tall, wiry man wearing jeans his mom picked out and the inevitable t-shirt bearing inscrutable geek inside jokes, sits intently at his homemade computer, joystick in hand, twitching his thumbs and laughing maniacally on occasion. He owns Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Cowboy Beebop. He makes really good baked salmon from his mother's recipe and has long red hair down to his ass. He likes cats but is allergic to them, so instead he makes small cat noises to the demise of the FREE FUCKING WORLD. This is no average Mike, people.
Even so, it may surprize you, dear readers, that I should be uplifted from the mire of this existence by so trifling a thing as a comment. In that case, let me inform you that it was for want of Mike's promised comments that I sought out enetation in the first place. The man begged me to provide a means by which he could shamelessly slather the internet with cynical exaggerations and really awful puns in response to the goings-on of my daily life. But his attentions could not be bought with mere PHP. No doubt Mike was busy selflessly spreading his omnipotent invective to others in need. Thus I wallowed in the scudge of my woeful persistence, posting day by day, hopeful for a morsel of wit or even a reproach to break the monotony--anything from clever procrastinatorial digits--in vain. Four months passed slowly as ever, each day twisting the knife until Glory of Glory and Saint of Saints, Mike spared a moment of his precious time to utter forth a satisfyingly ass-kissing comment, thereby saving himself from the guilt of my withering state. Finally.