Post Confession

5 seconds:
I wonder, does "I love you" have a different meaning in Japanese than in English?

10 seconds:
I finish my beer.

20 seconds:
I'm watching a half-naked man with a ridiculous haircut scroll through I-tunes on the opposite side of the bar.

1 minute, 10 seconds:
I roll my eyes in response to hearing Thriller for the 3rd time in an hour.

3 minutes:
I feel ignorned by the barkeep, and I take a sip from the glass of liquid sitting in front of me.

3 minutes, 5 seconds:
A British tourist attaches his hand to the drink and asks who I am, and I respond by asking what's that he's drinking.

3 minutes, 30 seconds:
I learn another useless fact about Jameson Whiskey.

5 minutes:
I bet him that he can't tell the difference between bourbon and whiskey. I say that I'll buy both drinks if he can. At this point, I'm not sure how much money I've spent thus far.

5 minutes, 20 seconds:
He orders 2 drinks.

5 minutes, 25 seconds:
I chastise the bartender for not having an I-tunes mix prepared. I ask him how he can mix tapes and drinks at the same time.

5 minutes, 35 seconds:
I finish laughing at my own joke.

6 minutes:
I remember it again, wondering if it made sense and if I had slightly slurred my Xs.

6 minutes, 20 seconds:
The drinks are placed between the British tourist and myself. He pays, and I comment on the difference of maplyness. I put the money on the bar, and tell him to close his eyes.

7 minutes:
I switch the drinks around 10 times before I pick up the darker, more mapley one and place the glass in his hand.

7 minutes, 10 seconds:
He drinks, and I take the glass and place it next to the other one.

7 minutes, 15 seconds:
He responds, "bourbon". He's right.

7 minutes, 20 seconds:
I tell him so and slide the sen yen under his hand.

7 minutes, 40 seconds:
He tells me to close my eyes, and I do. I feel the glass beneath my lip despite it not having yet touched. I lean forward to put my mouth on the glass, tilt, "oh definitely whiskey", i think, while bourbon flows over my tongue.

7 minutes, 45 seconds:
I always hold shots in my mouth a few seconds to prepare myself for the chill that follows. Before I swallow, his mouth crashes onto mine.

7 minutes, 47 seconds:
The unexpectancy postpones my swallowing reflex.

7 minutes, 50 seconds:
He takes the bourbon from my mouth, and I become enraged.

8 minutes:
"why'd you do that?" I yell, most likely in that voice that has been described by my "friends" as "drunkenly shrill".
"Do what?" he asks, as if he hadn't any recollection of what happened.
"Take my whiskey?"

8 minutes, 20 seconds:
He calmly informs me that was bourbon. And takes a drink to confirm.

8 minutes, 25 seconds:
I find his audacity disgustingly attractive, and I steal back my shot in the same manner.

9 minutes, 30 seconds:
I become aware that I am making out with a stranger I've known less than 10 minutes.

10 minutes:
I feel a poke on my back from someone telling me they think it's time for me to go home. That person does not look very happy.

10 hours:
Thinking back on the night with my head in my hands, I remember the last person I played that game with. Sitting on an unmade bed with ice water and mary jane, giggly, happy, drawing stupid pictures that maden't any sense.
It is this memory that reinforces my belief that I've never been good with boundaries.
And naturally, i finished off wondering,
"Where do you go to learn those things?"

Where does it come from?

1987
Me: Get out of here.
Ricky: Mom, Ronell won't play with me.
Mom: Ronell, play with your brother.
Ricky: (satisfied smirk)
Me: Oh, alright. I learned a new game today at school. Want to play?
Ricky: What is it?
Me: It's a card game. Go get the cards.
Ricky: Okay.
Me: No, the good deck.
Ricky: Here.
Me: Okay, the game is called 52 card pick up. I don't know...are you going to understand the rules?
Ricky: Yes, yes.
Me: Are you sure?
Ricky: I want to play 52 card pick up.
Me: Okkkkk. (Throws cards in a swirl)
Ricky: (confused look)
Me: Well, pick them up.
Ricky: (confused look)
Me: That's the game, Ricky. Now pick them up or else I'll tell Mom you're cheating and that's why I don't play with you.
Ricky: (cries)

End result: I get in trouble.

1991
Me: Hey Ricky, I have a good idea.
Ricky: What?
Me: Let's put Alex in the bathtub.
Ricky: How?
Me: Well, we can pick him up on the sheet he's sleeping on, and carry him into the bathroom and put him in the tub.
Ricky: Okay.
Alex: (cries)

End result: Ricky and I get in trouble.

Ronell: Get out of here.
Ricky: Get out of here.
Rayna: Mom, Ricky and Ronell won't play with me.
Mom: You guys, play with Rayna.
Ronell: Hey Ricky, I have an idea.
Ricky: What?
Ronell: Let's play Ocean Swirl.
Rayna: I want to play Ocean Swirl.
Ronell: Okay, Ricky, pick her up and hold her upside-down.
Ricky: (does this)
Ronell: Now let's go over to the bathroom.
Ricky: Ohhhh, Ocean Swirl.....
Rayna: (upside-down) I don't want to play Ocean Swirl anymore.
Ronell: No, you'll like it.
Ricky: (holding her over the toilet)
Ronell: Now, you drop her and I'll flush, and we'll send her on an Ocean Swirl
Rayna: (cries)

End Result: Ricky and I get in trouble.

2006
Ronell: Hey, just thought I'd warn you, Mom still gets your some of your mail and you got a letter saying you owe 843$ in back taxes.
Ricky: What are you talking about?
Ronell: Well, mom opened it since it looked official.
Ricky: Are you fucking kidding me? Fuck!
Ronell: Ya, that sucks. I gotta go.

Ricky: Ya Mom, I'm gonna go pick up that letter from the tax guys.
Mom: What are you talking about?

End result: Ricky hides my car stereo from me.

2006
Me: That's a funny picture you posted on your myspace.
Cynthia: I don't have a myspace.
Me: Ya you do, I'm on your top 8.
Cynthia: No, I don't have a myspace.
Me: Are you serious? How weird.
Cynthia: Wait a second, how long have I had a myspace?
Me: I don't know. But now that I think about it, I guess you wouldn't post such embarrassing pictures of yourself.
Cynthia: Dad, I'm going on your computer.
Me: His computer is broken right now. But I'll show you later on mine.
Cynthia: Dad, did you hear what Ronell said? There's a myspace of me that I never created.
Dad: That's really strange, Cynthia.
Me: Hey....I bet Alex made your myspace. Those bulletins from you ARE a bit personal, probably only things he would know.
Cynthia: Bulletins like what?
Me: I don't know, personal stuff, like your pooping strategies.
Cynthia: WHATTT?!?!? Give me your computer, I want to look at it.
Me:Okay
Cynthia: Dad, Alex made a myspace pretending to be me and posted a bunch of embarassing things about me!
Dad: What?
Cynthia: Ya, that jerk.
Dad: You know what? I'm gonna call that little son-of-a-bitch.
Dad: (dials number)
Me: Uhhhhhh, just kidding. I made that up.
Dad: What?
Cynthia: What?
Cynthia: cries

End result: I get in trouble.

1983
Mom: Get out of here, you'll get all wet.
Me: What are you doing?
Mom: I'm cleaning Carrot's cage.
Me: Where's Carrot?
Mom: In the house, now get away from the water. I don't want you to get your clothes wet.
Me: I bet I can fit in Carrot's cage.
Mom: No, it's wet, and it's dirty.
Me: But you cleaned it!
Mom: It still has rabbit germs. Don't get inside.
Mom: (walks away)
Me: (gets inside)
Mom: (returns)
Mom: What the hell did I tell you?
Me: Look Mommy, I'm Carrot. I'm a rabbit!
Mom: You want to be a rabbit?
Me: Yes!
Mom: Okay, then you are a rabbit.
Mom: (locks cage)
Mom: (walks into house)
Me: (waits a minute or two)
Me: (Cries)

1993
Me: I think you're driving too fast.
Mom: Well, I've gotta go to the bathroom.
Me: Me too.
Mom: (parks car)
Me: (runs into house)
Me: (runs into bathroom)
Mom: Hurry up!
Me: Ahh, what a nice lovely pee.
Mom: Hurry the fuck up!
Me: Trickling down the spout like a beautiful waterfall.
Mom: (Enters bathroom)
Mom: (Pulls down pants)
Mom: (Pees on me)

1996
Me: (walks into the house)
Mom: You are punished for a month.
Me: What? Why?
Mom: I got your report card today in the mail.
Me: Ya, so?
Mom: You got 3 C's.
Me: Shut up, no I didn't.
Mom: Don't tell me to shut up, and yes you did!
Me: Let me see.
Mom: I already put it away.
Me: In what classes?
Mom: Math, History and PE
Me: That's impossible, my teachers told me my grades.
Mom: Well, that's what your report card said, so you're punished until you get those grades up.
Me: Mr. Salvador, can i talk to you for a moment?
Mr S. Sure.
Me: You told me that I got an B in this class but my report card showed a C.
Mr S. No, you got a B.
Me: Are you sure?
Mr. S: Yes, I'm sure.
Me: Mom, I talked to all my teachers, and I didn't get any C's.
Mom: I know, you got 2 A's and a B.
Me: Huh, how did you know?
Mom: I just told you that so you'd try harder.
Me: But, you said I was punished.
Mom: Well, I don't want you on the phone so much, so you're still punished. You ought to have straight A's anyway.


I'm going home this November. I can't wait!

How to keep kool in Skool-Lesson 1

I hate her.
But she's got 2 young children still in junior high school.
I imagine that their voices become high in excitement when she walks through the door at night.
I think about this when she scowls after she thinks my back is turned.

Thursdays are for Suckers!

It's true that I was thrown in front of that truck!

As you all know now, that theory was laid to rest after the investigation showed that I had written to a friend, merely two days before the incident, that I wished I had the courage to throw myself in front of a laundry truck. And yes, even though it was a tomato truck, that's right...an 8 wheeler Japanese grocer hauling a shipment of tomatoes, that caught me that night, I was deemed a suicide.

Oh, how that steamed my tomatoes! I phrased it in exactly that manner the day I was summoned to appear in front of the suicide commission. I got a laugh out of nobody but the cross-examiner, who only reacted that way as a ploy to suggest that I was a ridiculous candidate for the accidental death insurance clause, which I only applied for because it was the shortest form.

You see, I had no idea of all the legal strife that death would cause me after I accidentally entered a one-way alley that led me onto that stupid highway that went a stretch of 3 miles before another off-ramp became available. Had i known that I'd have to spend 11 weeks in line at the accidental suicide claims office just to file some stupid petition, I might have paid closer attention to the route I took back home that stupid drunken night. I probably would have turned my bike around when I realized that I was struggling up a hill, into an unknown area which turned out to be the Tokai expressway. Obviously, I wasn't in the mood to make a detour, so I just kept going...that is, until i was...well, saucified.

So you see, I am tempted to haunt the shit out of my best friend for his reckless remittance of his email account, which enabled that sherriff to suggest that my email was "a cry for help" . However, I have forgiven him due to the fact that he wrote me back saying that they threatened him with 2 weeks in detention if he declined in aiding the investigation.

Of course, we both know...that is, my best friend and I, that my statement was only a joke that only we understood. But of course, he didn't see the harm in allowing everyone to believe that I was suicidal. "So what?" he thought. "She's dead, so what does it matter now?". He was sincerely sad at my departure, but he thought it was fruitless to debate the matter any further. My mother and brother cried at my funeral, though, and he watched them, so for that...i will definitely haunt him.

Although, when I ponder on it now, I realize that haunting will do no good. He'll just enjoy the attention that I give him from the afterlife. Therefore, now, I must channel my energy into something that matters. Of course, I still have alot of legal matters to attend to with the commission, but those are just meaningless forbearances that I should just overcome. Instead, I should just focus on my community service injunctions that I was given in order to lay this whole ordeal to rest.

I'm supposed to think about my life, and think about the people that I have disappointed during that time, and attempt to rectify (in written form) whatever grievances I have imposed upon them. As of now, I am procrastinating, which is one of the biggest no-no's of this whole procedure.

However, I'm pissed. I have included in my statement that I never intended to swerve into traffic that night. I have placed my grievance about the old man that waved his hand in front of my face, making me swerve, leading my bike into the highway that cold October night. I can't believe that just because I loved Yebisu as a wholehearted Gaijin, that I am now doomed to such a ridiculous fate. Fuck that. I wanna speak to the embassy!

English Dork

I've been reading alot of students' essays on the problems of the modern age. You see, it is season when the seniors are taking exams to prove their proficiency in English. If you can remember when we had to do these things, you might remember topics, cheesy topics.....on the problems of the world. Global warming, moral degeneration, gender biases, science vs. nature, etc.

I was asked to provide 3 sample essay answers in regards to each of these topics. I hadn't been forced to write on a specific topic in quite awhile, so I took the challenge quite seriously. I thought deeply about how public transportation has affected me in my nowaday life, and how gender biases affect our children. I relished the ordering of my responses, and answering the questions exactly how they were asked, while planning my points as if they were a strategy for war.

This assignment summoned the English major dork in me, which reminded me of one of my favorite pastimes, debate.

I thought about how I've abandoned argumentative writing, and instead behaving much like a bee, fleeting from topic to topic without any sense of cohersion. These days, I have begun to substitute literature analysis with the poop that has always annoyed my loved ones.

No longer having an audience for essays about character analysis or author motivation has led me back to breaking down the motives and desires of those around me and attempting to expose it for all that I theorize it to be.

I wonder if this is the cause of why I mentally regard (not retard) those I meet as characters of fiction rather than friends and acquaintances. Tonight I realized that I must cease my incessant curiousity of the inner limelight that glows within the people I meet.


Instead, I should just rely on their outward projection of what they want me to believe them to be. Because that's all anyone will ever admit to me or anyone else. There's no inside to people that don't admit to an inside. And maybe I am not qualified to quantify those elements of people with my own beliefs.

I am not a soothsayer. I have no idea at all.
Despite what I give birth to, I haven't the slightest clue to who any of you really are......

What was I talking about again? Being an English nerd? Missing real writing?

Hey look, there's a pretty flower!

Coming in for a landing where there is little understanding

Even after a year in this place, I have barely scratched the surface of comprehending things that happen around me. Like a child, I have come to make sense of strange practices only through the sense of repetitive familiarity, rather than actually understanding. For example, during morning meeting when the teachers all begin to clap, I turn and clap. I usually don't know why, but I do it anyway. A year ago, i'd just don my "what the fuck" face and ask another sensei what was happening. Then decide if I should clap.

Now, I don't care, i just clap. And that is that.

That's not to say that I am a complete moron. I mean, I have been studying the language, and asking about a quatrillion questions since I've stepped into this country. However, the knowledge I have gathered up until this point is making me wonder if I will ever really understand things.

For instance, i know what Karuta is. I know that when I pronounce it, I must put the stress on the first syllable so the students won't laugh at me. I know that it is a game played with one hundred cards, and each has the ending of a famous haiku written on it. I understand why the kids huddle around the scattered cards and grab it like lightning after the announcer reads something to them. Yes, I've been taught that they must match the beginning of the poem to the ending on the card, and gather the most cards in order to win. This is something I learned last year in the gym when all the 1st year students had a Karuta tournament.

However, this is something that you can learn from a book. Or from a blog:) How many years would it take it me actually sit amongst the children and be able to play with them? Who the hell knows? Alot.

This weighs on my mind. I am beginning to wonder if these strange and interesting things I experience everyday are actually bettering me in any way. Hmmph. Perhaps too serious to discuss here, so I will digress in an attempt to entertain you.

Here are a couple of things I have photographed that have left me amused and confused. Let me ask you, What does it all mean?



Desk Artwork in the Team teaching room


Sign by the ATM at the Shimashin in Shimada, Japan


Store sign in Shizuoka City, Japan

Another random blundering of a tangled autumn night

In the late 80's, my stepmother used listen to K-Earth 101, which is (or at least used to be) an oldie's radio station while driving me to morning daycare. The YMCA bus driver also used to listen to this station as she'd drive to our elementary school. I blame these two people for my inability to pass the rice paddies by my house without my inner brain radio blasting The Byrds' 1965 hit single "Turn, turn, turn".

Mind you, throughout the lyrics, there is no mention of rice fields, or persimmon trees buried in ready and rotting fruit. It says nothing of riding on a scratched up 1 speed bicycle in the perfect 72 degree afternoon autumn breeze, breathing in the slight scent of burning foliage, hearing children run under the blue, pink and purple skies that paint the scenes of a small Japanese farming town.

It isn't the song, nor the Ecclesiastes' quote from the bible upon which it is based, that says any of that. It is my brain. Or rather, the teachings of religion classes during grades 6-12 spent in various Catholic schools, that now has made autumn and harvest synonomous with this little verse.

Now, it's not a particularly bad or annoying thing that this happens, it's just something that I wish I could turn off. It's not that I hate my religious upbringing, it's just that I wish I could turn it off. A couple of days ago, I posted a little blurb making fun of some aspects of Christianity. I wondered about who this might offend. My father? Perhaps. My grandmother? Definitely. My godmother? Fo sho.

Although I don't blame anyone for taking offense, I do wonder why. I wonder why guilt over things that deserve no ill feelings is the core of a religion that preaches love and forgiveness. I've been loved and forgiven, but I still sing stupid songs that remind me of a time when I was made to feel guilty about things as natural as the seasons.

Video means "i see" in Latin.

Think about the movies that you loved as a kid....

Go ahead, remember. I'll wait.

A few movies I made my dad rent over and over...

Labyrinth.
The Neverending Story
Little Shop of Horrors
Annie
The Boy who Could fly
Flight of the Navigator
D.A.R.Y.L.
Explorers



Children can find disenfranchisement and macabre in literature, as well.
James and the Giant Peach
Indian in the Cupboard
The Witches
A Wrinkle in Time



I'd probably read Harry Potter if I were still a baby.
There's a whole new generation arising.

There's this blog I sometimes read.....

TS. IDIOT---who wrote this below: (i thought it was funny, so here it is for you).




Divine Intervention.

Setting: Decent apartment in a crappy neighborhood. From stage left enters Mary, a former nun who recently lost her faith. She takes off her habbit and robe and hits play on the answering machine.

Answering Machine: You have 20 new messages. Playing First message.

God: Hi Mary, listen, it's God. Um, could you give me a call?

Playing Second Message.

God: Hey Mary, God again. I didn't see you at church today and I was wondering what you were up to, anyways give me a call.

Playing Third message.

God: Hey Mary, yep, it's the big guy. Listen, I know you were watching a movie when you weren't at church. I was watching you. Seriously give me a call.

Playing Fourth message:

God: Sorry about that last message, that was kind of creepy wasn't it? That's not what I meant at all. Anyways I just really want to see you, please call me.

Playing Fifth message:

God: Damnit Mary, what the fuck? I don't care about you anymore. Become a Bhuddist for all I care, I don't need you to be happy. Anyways Jesus invited me to this party tonight and there's going to be like all these totally hot saints there. So whatever, I'm totally over you.

Playing Sixth message:

God: Mary, come on Mary, I love you, I will always love you unconditionally. Mary please call. Listen I work in mysterious ways, I'm sorry things havn't been working out lately and I swear I would've told you about your mothers cancer sooner if I thought it would help. Anyways please call me, please. Damnit Son I'm on the phone, Jesus Christ. Shut up I'm on the phone. Yeah, well your mother wasn't a virgin before I met her you spoiled brat. Mary I'll call you back, I think I might need to kill my son again. Just kidding, haha, remember when we used to joke mary? Anyways please call.

Playing Seventh message:

God: Okay what the fuck you bitch, you haven't even prayed to me once. Do I mean nothing to you? I'm the reason you exist you fucking whore, yeah, tell Vishnu I said that you slut. I bet you're making good use of all four of his hands as we speak. If this was 3000 years ago I would've smithed your ass so fast you wouldn't have time to get whiplash before you were nothing but a pillar of Salt. Man this spiked Holy water is good shit, I'm so drunk right now. You cunt, fuck you, you think I don't have other girls? I have thousands of worshipers just begging to believe in me. I hope you die in hell. And baby, I can arrange that shit.

Playing Eight message:

God: Baby, baby, baby, honey, sweetheart, I'm so so so sorry, I was drunk and didn't know what I was saying. Peter and Francis took me out and we got totally wasted and I kind of slipped into the old testament for awhile there. I would never ever do anything to hurt you and would never do anything like the stuff I said, I'm so sorry baby. Baby, you know how much I love you? I gave you free will, you don't have to love me. Hell, no one deserves to love me, I hate my life, nobody cares about me. You think it's easy being me? Mary I need you to believe in me, I need you baby. Please come back. Maybe we can just hang out at the altar for like a day or something? Let's take it slow. My life sucks without you, heaven isn't heaven without you in my life. Please please please call me. Please.

Playing Ninth Message:

Pope: Hey Mary, it's me, the pope. Listen, god is a total mess right now, there's plagues and tsunamis and hurricanes all over. He doesn't believe in himself anymore, the universe itself is coming apart at the seams. Mary, he's a good entity. Sure I know he used to be a little rough around the edges but that's all in the past. He's a great omnipotent deity, he loves you so much Mary and he would do anything in his power, which is a lot mind you to get you back. He's a mess right now, every time I pray to him he takes over and can't shut up about you. Give the old guy a chance Mary? Eh? For me.

Playing Tenth message:

Jesus: No I'm not going to say that. You can't make me, Dad damn you! Hi Mary, this is Jesus...Listen....I can't believe you're making me say this. Okay damnit just stop crying. Listen Mary, I died for your sins okay? That shit hurt and all your shit is forgiven because of me so how about giving my dad one more shot? There I said it, man I feel dirty now.

Playing Eleventh Message:

Richard Dawkins: Hey Mary, it's Richard Dawkins. I had a great time last night. Pick you up around the same time tonight? Later babe.

Playing Twelfth message:

God: Richard Dawkins? You're dating fucking Richard Dawkins? I saw you with him. I thought I was delusional. It's like I don't even exist to you anymore. It's like you don't believe in anything we shared. I can't believe you would do this, of all people. I wish I could kill myself. Don't expect to ever hear from me again because I'm never ever calling you.

Playing thirteenth message:

God: Richard Dawkins? what the fuck Mary?

Playing Fourteenth message:

Satan: Hello, is this Mary? Anyways you don't know me, my name is Satan. I just wanted to say thank you, and keep doing your thang girlfriend.

Playing Fifteenth Message:

God: Hey, Mary old pal, guess who this is? Not that you care. Anyways have you seen the news lately? Did you hear about the famine in Bolivia? No? How about the Hurricane in India, where hundreds died? Or maybe you heard about the Tidal wave that just hit Japan? Just throwing this out there, maybe your fault. Have a great day.

Playing Sixteenth Message.

God: Hey Mare-bear, listen, I was doing some research and stumbled upon a little interesting bit of clerical data up here in heaven. Turns out your mom had like six over due library books when she was fourteen. I'm afraid I'm going to have to send her downstairs for eternal damnation and torture. However, you know that uncle of yours that raped you when you were 7? He's neck deep in hot angel ass and Pina Coladas. Ciao!

Playing Seventeenth Message:

David: Hi Mary, this is David Sloan Wilson, I'm sorry I have some terrible news. I was hanging out with Richard Dawkins today when he was randomly hit by lightning 84 consecutive times and then a shark materialized out of thin air and bit his charred remains in half before vanishing in a puff of smoke. It was pretty nuts. Anyways, the funeral service is being held next week and I know Richard would've wanted you to come.

Playing Eighteenth Message:

God: You see what you made me do Mary? Do you see what you made me do? Do you see what I'm capable of? That's how much I love you. I NEED YOU MARY, I COMMAND YOU TO CALL ME.

Playing Nineteenth Message:

Tom: Hi Mary, this is Tom Cruise, I was wondering if you've heard about Dianeti-- *Sound of lightning striking repeatedly*

Playing Final Message:

God: Mary, I'm sorry. For someone who's omnipotent I've been a pretty big idiot lately. It's just been really hard for me since I've lost you and I needed time to grieve and get myself in a good place. I had a good talk with Moses and he made me realize a lot of the things I've been doing lately are totally out of character for me and for that I apologize. I've met this new girl and you'd really like her, her name is Madaline. Anyways just to show there's no hard feelings I got Elvis, Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and a couple of my friends from Heaven to put together a concert and I wanted to know if you wanted to come? Just one last meeting between us as friends, no strings attached. Just give me a call and we'll get together and put this whole mess behind us. Thank you so much for being a part of my life. Thanks to you I'm the god I am today and I appreciate everything you've done for me. So just give me a call and I'll set up the concert and we can go our separate ways and live happily ever after, goodbye. Oh, fuck this shit. it's Armageddon time.

First Holy Communion

When I was seven, my godmother used to take me with her to catechism classes she taught on Saturdays. Dressed in t-shirts and overalls, it is hard to fathom why all her high school students used to fawn over me as they did. They'd give me candy and chocolate milk. They'd push me on the swing until I grew bored. Swing me around in their arms so I'd laugh. Girls fighting over where I'd sit in the classroom. Everyone finding something for me to color as I'd wait.

Everyone did, when i was a kid.

So behaved and well mannered. Asking permission for everything, keeping silent during mass. Well versed in please and thank you, complete with a smile.

Couldn't read, couldn't add, but precious nonetheless.

Back in the time when I confessed an innocence as sin, I walked in an aisle of white dresses, awaiting bread and not wine.

Onto autumn

Goals for Fall

Pass the JLPT 3 kyu
Suspend all frivolous spending to save for winter travels
Decide between Australia or Asia for Xmas
Love hotel
Make my own Tokaido travel guide
Work toward healthiness of mind and body
Make OC Class movie
Make Tobinator 3000 costume
Stay after school and play with the clubs more often
Ride Splash Mountain with my kids and buy the stupid picture.
See all my long lost buddies together at a Los Angeles bar that serves Newcastle on tap.
Perhaps if I keep it short, I can accomplish them all.

Goodnight, summer.

This link was the list of goals that I had made on the first day of summer. Alas, the end of summer has passed away as such did the long weekend, and now it is time to check upon my list to see how I fared this season.

Swim in the OigawaNo, but walked in it.


Camp under the starsTwice
Climb up a rocky waterfallNo
Drink my own homemade UmeshuOishikatta.
Ride a waterride at Tokyo DisneyNo
Boogie board on the southern coast of JapanNo
Beach birthday bonfire nightDamn typhoon!
Drown a bag of CicadasUh, no. That was just a pipe dream. Although one dropped from a tree onto my head. I screamed, and threatened to throw it into a river.
Take refuge in a refrigerated Pachinko parlorYES.
Spend the night in a love hotelUH, no!
Team teach with my sisterAnd they LOVED her!
Master photoclubNot a master.
Go to Ninja restaurant in Tokyo, Hello Kitty storeCheck!
Buy my bassDecided against bass.
Snorkle off the coast of OkinawaNext time, Gadget, next time.
Light skyrockets off the highest tip of FujiNo.
Get backstage at Fuji-rockUh, no.
Party it up with departing SempaiVery little sempai partying, sister in town that week.
Learn 100 summer related KanjiCould only think of 50, but learned them.
Soak in a kiddie poolYES!!!! The coolest kiddie pool in Tokyo!
Make a Tokyo PosseYES, more of posse than before!
Raft down a riverRRRR, no.
Rent a car, roadtrip to ShimodaRented a car, roadtripped to Shujenji
Dance the night away in TokyoOn many occasions.
Party with Gabriel his first night in JapanCheck
Hanabi like its going outta styleCheck
Secure tix to Melbourne for Christmas extravaganza with Moto, Angie, Gabby and AimeeYES and NO, reserved tix, but not sure if able to pay for them.

"They just appear."

You thought it was of the Buddhist belief to not partake in the ending of an insect's life.
You thought the blue hue and soft clarity of a river meant the water ran clean.
You thought that mold could not grow where there is no oxygen.
You thought window silhouettes kept to the rules on displays of affection.
You thought the innocence of infants sheltered them from recognizing differences in facial features.
You thought disgusting bugs should not fly.
You thought rainbows rest their feet on gold.

You thought everything had a purpose.
You thought alot like I did.

Alot, except for that.

There is no one doing the teaching except for yourself.
Gambarimasu, old friend.

Matsushima "Pine Islands"

Last weekend, I went to Tokyo then onto Sendai. Took a little train trip over to Matsushima to check out one of the Top 3 "most beautiful places in Japan". I forgot my camera, but I took a couple of pictures on my phone.

There was this crazy tree growing out of the side of the biggest island, horizonally. If you look closely, you can find waldo.


Then we found a rainbow.

And some guy caught an eel-y looking fish.

The islands were connected by cute red bridges.

I got an average fortune, so i didn't put my little red guy in a square.

Slack Off-ism

In general, I would regard myself as a person with adequate to semi-interesting writing ability. I'd never call myself a Vonnegut or Bukowski, of course, but I do admit to admiring their casual manner of writing as if you are just talking to a friend over a few beers. I like their style. I like how Vonnegut rambles, and how Bukowski never apologizes during drinks.

People often judge others on how they answer the question, "Dead or Alive, which literary figure would you choose to converse with?" Obviously, I wouldn't want to converse with anyone who wouldn't join me in the corner of a bar, pissed about something or other, and suggesting to move this conversation over to the parking lot across the street, when we both know he's got a bottle of whiskey in his knapsack. Obviously, I never answer that question in a normal conversation because my answer would only make me appear uncouth, uneducated, and of course, alcoholic.

Unfortunately, even years after escaping high school follies, i still succumb to obliging under what "they" think.

Rubbish, i'd say.

I am going to admit to you that i have coddled quite a bit of my homemade Ume-shu, and am now writing under the influence. You must know that Ume-shu is delicious, especially if you're of the unlucky lot who hasn't yet discovered its sweet, sticky charm. While Vodka makes one hot and angry, Ume-shu makes you smile and sleepy. It is sweeter than port and creates a melodic lull in the head which could sing babies, and quite possibly, convicts, to sleep.

My eyes begin to close as the incense wears on, and I figure that I must get to my point before the clock rages much further.

She's such an insolent, that time-keeper!

All I wanted to discuss tonight, as I summoned these windows of Bloggy was how impressed I've been with my recent reading material. Tonight, I read a story that taught me what "Royal Jelly" was. I never knew so much about bees. I never thought that i needed to. I love when people teach me something that I never even knew that I wanted to learn.

I wish love were like books.

200th Post

The person I call my best friend has the same job as I. Since he's arrive, we've fallen back into old habits of calling each other every night and telling the other of our day. However, in Japan, the charges for cellular phone usage is much higher than us spoiled Americans are used to. You see, the companies here give you less than a hundred free minutes which has trained the Japanese people to communicate only through texts. The rates for calls become even higher when you frequently call other carriers. But that's his bad. I told him to get Softbank.

I've always liked texts. I prefer indirect, noncommittal communication. And when I was once questioned on why I waste my time settling weekend plans via 6 texts when I can just make a 2 minute call, I answered
"I dunno".

But I did know.

I know that I have very awkward phone ettiquette. And I also know that i can't keep anything under 2 minutes. It's good to know yourself, I reckon.

Tonight, this friend of mine told me about a student in his class. The assignment was to explain an illness to the doctor, and get a diagnosis.

Doctor: What is your problem?
Boy: I want a hamburger and coke.
Doctor: Are you okay?
Boy: I want a hamburger and coke.
Doctor: Oh, you have the autism.

I laughed. You see, the clincher is that Autism was not on the list of ailments to choose from. Later in the conversation, I begged him to tell me again, with all the same accents, and he did. He's good like that.

I told him that from now on, I was going to tell people that story as if it were my student who wrote that. There's no way it could maintain halarity if I were to start that story with "my friend said". Know what I mean?

So if you and I are alone under beers or whiskey, in the throws of banter, talking about work, and I happen to mention this story, I'd prefer if you'd ignore its true origin. Just assume I'm a liar.

And that i enjoy subtle cheekiness.

Saucy

There's alot of things to see-
underneath the trunk
to middle of the leaf

breathe up close
then look away
and in the heat of the vein
aphids play

Motorhead

It is amazing what addiction can do. Unwelcomed, though tiny, thoughts invade your think-space in that slick, non-verbal jumpy frogleg way. As I write, trying to capture this moment so that I might reread it next time I think it'd be nice to go out for a smoke. I was 2 days short of a 3 week non-smoking stint that was quite unlike my others. You see, this bout with nicotine freedom was preluded by a very uncomfortable case of tonsilitis, which took the slight annoyance of craving a smoke and turned it into chronic pain which resulted in days without much water, sleep or tabemono. When you spend a week and a half in a miserable fever haze, tabako no jidou hanbaiki isn't much of a mirage-y oasis. My point is that after I recovered and began feeling good, I didn't want to do anything mean and yucky to my poor body. I was so nice to it. Only feeding it fruits, veggies, rice. Taking it out for afternoon walks. Buying it beautiful smelling soaps, no pickling, no suffocation, no disagreeable chemicals. I somehow convinced myself that it'd be pretty disgusting to do any of these things.

That is until I wanna relax. I know that sounds stupid. And I'm not referring to the type 1 relaxing that I had been engaging in since the detox. You know, where after a nice brisk walk through a humid afternoon, I'd do a bit of showering, putting on some musik and reading beside the lovely summer evening breeze sauntering past my bed. That's good too. But I mean the type 2 relaxing. The kind where you drink deliciously frosty beverages while focusing on other things: perhaps chatting with a friend, watching movies, or writing incoherently inside a notebook or perhaps atop a keyboard. Type 2 gives the added option of not only relaxing your body, distracting your mind, but also distracting certain emotions. It gives a small vacation from things like the autumn willys. And unfortunately, frosty beverages walk hand in hand with smokey cylindrical pleasure sticks.

In summary, this short reunion with my vices was not that intense. I smoked maybe about 5-6 in total. However, that was all that was necessary to make my after work kaeru fall back into my old desires of smoking 2 on my front porch as a welcome back Toby party today. And as I began this post, nothing sounded quite as good. And even now, as I'm preparing to leave you and depart for the shower/pajama/cold glass of water/cat power/roald dahl/sleep, all that would really satisfy me was an umeshu and soda highball outside the porch beside a half packet of Mild 7's number six. My thoughts run like wild children awaiting the end of a typhoon. My motorhead seeks refuge. It is amazing what addiction can do.

Tobymori

Can't tell whether it's my autumn willys, or if I'm just over it. I was over college about 2 years in, but I forged through 2 more years of late nights, silly hijinks, drinky, debauchery. I wonder if I prefer to keep to myself because most of the fun people either aren't around anymore, or if trying seems like more trouble than its worth.

I am tempted to wish for better times, but I'm not sure where they ever really were.
I welcome the willys. They make the sounds of the forest sound like the cries of laughter. And the take-take bump up against each other's silence, telling secret musik. Shut the hippy away, where she'll quit both victory and vice.

Fever Dream

Thursday, August 23rd, minutes before 9pm

Sydney from Sydney taps me on the shoulder and warns me about the barback. "He takes your drink from you before you're finished" he says. I thank him, but quietly make a note of where my drink is. I am drinking vegetable juice. Maybe there's Vodka in it, but you can't tell because veggie juice masks those things. I was wondering if I was drunk yet, and I see that barback walking in my direction. He has a stack of pint glasses about 6 feet tall in his hand. I become embarrassed to keep my drink because he has walked all the way over here with that giant stack. How heavy it must be, I thought, as he slipped the glass under the bottom of the stack. My juice fell to the floor. I began feeling hot and thirsty when Sydney from Sydney scares me from behind. "So Toby", he says in a hoarse voice, "you don't even notice El Diablo anymore, do ya?" I answered, "No."


Sometime between Saturday and Sunday

I'm making out with Nicolas Cage's second cousin at a wedding shower party for my dad. I can't keep my mind on the kiss because I'm wondering if this whole Nick Cage-second-cousin-thing is some kind of lie.



Last Night

I'm laying on a bench when I feel something fuzzy brush the back of the hand that's hanging just an inch from the ground. I open my eyes and I see a little monkey. I don't do anything. I'm not scared of it, so I don't get up, but I'm not impressed with it, so I don't try to grab it. I decide that it is a bit ugly and I hope it goes away. It doesn't. Instead, this monkey climbs onto my bench and lies on the curve of my back. I almost thought it was cute, but then I stuck to the initial judgment that it is ugly and I hope it goes away.



Night sweats are shit!
Earaches are shit!
Cough drops are shit!
Japanese over-the-counter pain relievers are shit!
Mitsuya Cider is shit!
Sensitive temples are shit!
Bacteria is shit!
TV Links is shit!
Throat spray is shit!
Celsius is shit!
People's blogs are shit!
Emergency rooms are shit!

Nihongo wo benkyo shimasho

JLPT Application deadline: September 11, 2007
JLPT Test Date: Sunday, Dec. 2, 2007

I've lived in Japan for a year now. I finished the Clair Language books, beginning level. I think that with 15 weeks of study time, perhaps I have a chance of passing the level 3 JLPT. This will be my new obsession over the next couple of months.

Level 4
727 vocabulary words
103 kanji
124 grammar points
21 expressions

I will spend 4 weeks studying this information.
Per week:
182 vocab
26 kanji
31 grammar points
5 expressions

Level 3
682 vocab words
181 kanji
118 grammar points
11 expressions

I will spend 10 weeks studying this information.
Per week:
70 vocab words
19 kanji
12 grammar points
2 expressions

Week 1 begins this Monday.

Rockin' that Big Ass Fuji Rock

July 27th, 28th, and 29th was FUJI ROCK....and it rockkkkked. The only other multiple music festival that I've seen before with camping is Coachella in California. But I'll have to say that once again, Japan has improved yet another of my favorite activities---summer-music-love-camping.

Fuji Rock is a bit of a misnomer, as it was held at the Naeba Ski Resort over in Niigata prefecture (which prefers to be called Jishin Central), and not by Fuji-san! Well, Niigata is on the north-west coast of Japan, so it wasn't really that far. A 45 min Shink ride to Tokyo, then another 1:15 hour ride to the camp site.


Here is my friend, Leonie and I, about to enter the festival for the first time. The weather was perfect, and by perfect, I mean a little too hot to where you can wrap your head in a cold-soaked towel and feel like it's just 75 degrees out. On Sunday, clouds came in and out, occasionally dropping some rain on us during some of the sets. I was fine because I had my good friend, Heineken, not too far away from me.


The Red Marquee the 3rd smallest stage where some of the smaller bands played. Here is the line-up for this stage.

We made some fuckin' noise.

This is Blonde Redhead. They played the songs I wanted to play, and I wanna buy the new album.

I must say, though, that my all time favorite show was The Cure.
They kicked ass! Robert Smith may be 50 whatever these days, but he's still got that same Robert Smith charm. Besides that, I've never seen them live before, so I'm used to the recordings they made 20 years ago....but they play so much better now than they used to, which made listening to Disintegration, Let's go to bed, Just like Heaven, The Forest, The Walk, Lovesong, Never Enough, Close to Me, HotHotHot, Pictures of you, Facination St., Lullaby, A night like this, so much better than I've ever heard them before. By the way, yes....they played all those songs. Amazing, I know.

I was in a trance that brought me back to feeling like a 16 year old angst-ster. It was truly my highlight.

The Chemical Brothers were also pretty fucking awesome. I like their new shit. I took a lil bits of video that i might put up later.

Some other honorable mentions are as follows:
Kaiser Chiefs were surprisingly good, and were very good with the crowd. Fun.

I also really enjoyed Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra.

Mika sucked ass.

Deerhoof was cute.

Electrelane were good musically, but not so good with the crowd. I wish they were more bad ass.

Iggy was fucked up, but that's why we love him. He reminded me of Ozzy if he took his FACE-OFF and replaced it with Skeletor. That's not saying that I don't respect the dude. His encore was a repeat of his 1st song which riled up the crowd--I wanna be your Dog. I like that song, so I didn't mind. He called a bunch of people up on the stage to dance around with him...then got a little paranoid when trying to get them back down.

The Beastie Boys were alright. I've seen them have better shows. Too short.

!!! was pretty good. I'd download their musik if only !!! was searchable on limewire:)

The Shins played the songs I wanted them to. But they didn't seem to be very good with the crowd either. But I guess that's how scensters are supposed to be. Too hip to be cool.

Joss Stone reminded me of Rachel. She kind of looked like her, and had that way of singing. Most of you don't know her, but there's nothing else i can compare it to.
I thought her back-up vocalists were much better singers than her, but old black ladies don't sell here in Japan, I suppose.

I bought a YoLeYoLe CD. Ya, they are soft and hippy. But she sings Japanese very clearly and slowly, to where I could actually understand parts of her songs. So it is hippy, maybe, but good Japanese practice. So shut up already, gosh!

On Saturday night, I went to see Space Cowboy and Simian Mobile Disco with Aine and Ross. They were good, we danced, and after the others went to sleep, I wandered around alone checking out the party people, waiting till 2:30am for Justice to play, which was introduced to me not long ago by Davey. They were good. I also saw a bit of Teenage Bad Girl, but soon got too tired, especially knowing that the campsite is a 20 min. walk away uphill.

I was sad to have missed Juliette Lewis' band. But Ross said that she didn't get naked onstage like she usually does, so there you go.

Even though i didn't make Groove Armada, I did have that "shakin' that ass" song in my head during their set.


I called this the sausage lolly. The things these people do with sausages.

This is dinosaur thigh. But seriously, how do they get the meat peices that big?

After you pass through the birth canal, you come to a strange and fantastic place.

The festival at night is very pretty. So many pretty, bright things to look at. It reminded me of Electric Daisy Carnival. Janine and Kenny, you know what I'm talking about, like shiny and acidic.

They had a massage booth. Genius.

They had a nice Alpine river to go to when you needed to be cooled. Although there was a rope that said, "do not cross".

The campground was a golf course. A very beautiful green grassy bed.

One of the dozens of recycling centers. As I've said before, Kirei means both beautiful and clean. In Japan, they are the same. Everyone is very conscious of their trash.

Brilliant! These next few are some photos of the Nihonjin enjoying themselves.





I asked this guy if I could buy his shirt. Just kidding....i wasn't drunk enough to be that big of a douchebag, yet.





And the players......


Leonie, Anne, Me, Aine, Ross



Look at all of our cups. Quite frankly, I thought there'd be more.
Louise, Melissa, and Michelle

Michelle and her J-boy, Mori
Louise and Amir

It was a blast.....thanks goes to Spongebob. Ya, know what I'm talkin' about.....

Summer Kanji--Part 1

夏natsu-summer
熱netsu-heat, temperature, fever
祭日saijitsu-festival day, holiday
虫-mushi-insect
酎ハイ-chuhai-delicious drink

蒸し暑いmushi atsui-humid
果物kudamono-fruit
梅ume-plum
梅干し-umeboshi-pickled plum
梅酒umeshu-Plum liquor

休みyasumi-vacation
先輩sempai-elders
扇風機-sempuki-electric fan
石けん-sekken-soap
滝-taki-waterfall

誕生日-tanjobi-birthday
乾いた-kawaita-dry
酒-sake-sake
泳ぐ-oyogu-swim
大井川-Oigawa-Oi River

お祭り-omatsuri-festival
蜘蛛-kumo-spider
蚊-ka-mosquito
花火-hanabi-fireworks
泉-izumi-fountain, spring

地獄-jigoku-hell, inferno
乾くkawaku-feels dry
風-kaze-wind
季節kisetsu-season
公園-koen-park

富士山Fuji san-Mt. Fuji
沖縄-Okinawa
下田-Shimoda
自慢jiman-pride
東京Tokyo

神社jinja-Shinto Shrine
実験-jikken-experiment
人事移動jinji-idou---personal changes
凍るkouru-to freeze, to be frozen
海umi--sea

裸体ratai-nakedness (の)naked
冷却する-raikyaku suru-to cool
冷水reisui-cold water
冷凍する-freeze, refrigerate
冷蔵庫reizouko-refrigerator

お空ozora-sky
運動-undou-sports, exercise
氷-kouri-ice
波nami-wave
暑さ-atsusa-hot weather

Earthquake in Japan

Earthquake Sets Japan Back To 2147

Little bits of Tokyo

I was very disappointed when I realized that formatting a memory card means erasing it. I lost all the pictures of our road trip halfway down the Izu peninsula, the day trip to Shizunami beach, walking around Harajuku, Ikebukuro and our visit to Namco town, which is a little cat theme park created by the inventors of Pacman.
However, I do have a few pics from our fancy shmancy Ninja dinner, and our walkabout through Asakusa shrine. However, after the camera mishap, I lost all motivation to photograph anymore. Here are a few of my sister that she might want.

Website if you're interested in this cool, but expensive restaurant. Reservations are needed.

http://gojapan.about.com/gi/dynamic/offsite.htm?zi=1/XJ&sdn=gojapan&zu=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.ninja.tv%2F




Ninja Cynthia and her starry senbai.

Cynthia and our Ninja menu.

The entrance of Asakusa shrine.


Cynthia and the Akasaka night view.

Maybe later, I'll be able to put up a few more pictures of our battle against the typhoon, the creepy Shining hostel we stayed in, and yummy sushi dinner--courtesy of pictures from my friend, Leonie.

It's not my bag, baby!

I did not take this picture. Instead, I googled "bag of urine". Yes, people have captured plenty of bags of urine on film. Now that I look back on it, I wish that I would have photographed my bag of urine. Unfortunately, my camera was broken at the time.

My sister and I had been walking in the rain from Harajuku all the way to Otemosando when we figured that we better take a rest, look at our Tokyo map again, and hit the Toire. So I found the bathroom and rushed inside the stall, and sighed at presence of a pee-riddled squatty. I mean, we were in this super posh shopping district that had 2 story shops dedicated to 5 outfits and a pair of boots, yet all they provided were squatties? So as I fumbled inside the stall with my backpack, shopping bags, umbrella, and whatever else was hanging from my appendages I looked around for hooks to hang my stuff on, all the while pulling at skirt ready to pee. (I had been holding it for awhile)I was able to rest one of my small shoulder bags atop of a little trash pail in the back corner of the stall.

As I balanced above the hole while holding my bags above the floor as to not touch any urine, I successfully kept the bags, my skirt, and my butt from touching any of the affected areas. (At least that's how I'll portray it in my written account) As quickly as I went in, I rushed out. I gathered my stuff, unlocked the door and headed toward Cynthia at the sink, ready to complain about having to use a squatty while she lucked out getting the western toilet right next to it. As I approached Cynthia, washing her hands at the sink, I noticed a look of confusion on her face. "What's that?" Now she must have seen my puzzlement in the mirror's reflection because she turned around and pointed to the clear plastic bag hanging from my hand.

I looked down. I was holding a small clear bag half-way filled with yellow liquid. I must have had on some disgusted look on my face, or perhaps I had shouted an obscenity because after that, Cynthia was laughing hysterically as I held it like one would hold a stinky diaper, running around trying to find a place to put it down. From what I can gather, i must have picked it up from the bathroom stall thinking that it was one of my bags without noticing.

It wasn't until 4 days later, while we rode the train back to Nagoya International Airport that Cynthia brought up the incident again. We laughed, of course, but then began to question why had there been a bag of pee left behind in this Tokyo bathroom stall.

In Touch weekly

Top 5 Headlines from the magazine my sister left on my futon the day before she left.

5 Who wore it better?
4) Their kids wear hand-me-downs
3) Owen's hooked on fake tans
2) At home with Scott Baio
1) How tan is too tan?

I read the entire magazine.

Me/Nutshell

"10:15 on a Saturday night, and the tap drips under the strip light"
--Robert Smith





When I'm bored on the internet, I read that secrets page. I like them.


I almost laughed.



I almost cried.