The Perils of Drunk Biking

Like a cartoon bump. Really.

In other news, isn't my camera phone like way awesome? I sure think so.

Read more...

Girl Scout Cookies.

I sold them when I was in elementary school, always going for the coveted (and in hindsight, ugly) stuffed animal. I loved the goldfish cracker knockoffs (golden yangles--what a terrible name), I loved the lemony ones, the peanut butter ones, the ones with coconut on them (named after an island? why???), and of course, thin mints. Thin mints went straight into the freezer where we forgot about them. In college, this proved useful when a friend came over and made alcoholic smoothies. Smart boy, that one.

Anyway. I got home today, and I was hungry. But not hungry enough to wash my damn dishes. So I reached for the closest food item. In my apartment, that's not very hard to do.

And so I grabbed a box of girl scout cookies. That my mother sent me. Last year. I've been kicking this box around for the past couple days, and finally decided to open it.

And you know what? They're delicious. I could eat the entire box right now, even though I know I'll get sick from all the preservatives and I'll regret it tomorrow.

What are they? Double something. Double dutch chocolate chip cookies. Don't you just love how American food is so overprocessed that it's still good a year later? Freaky.

Freaky delicious.

Read more...

Damn fricking Damn.

My dad likes to try and call me when it's convenient for me, but he isn't very good at it. Like he called just now, 11pm to inform me that no, they're not coming to visit from April 5 to 19, now they want to come from April 19 to May 3. And I'm sure you're thinking, what's the problem with that, and I say that infringes on both charity ball AND Golden Week. And it's not like I currently have plans for golden week, or even a dress for Charity Ball, but damn my family for infringing on my good time. My LAST good time, might I add. rage rage rage.

But now there's even talk of coming in November, when I can stick around the whole time, and maybe even stay longer than they do. That'd be awesome.

Tonight I had yakiniku with L and L and it was so nice eating with girls for once. It only took one family set to feed three of us. And I introduced them to the fantastic ice creams too. So now I'm all meat-coma-ed and trying to be good and do a load of laundry, and my dad calls me and gets me in a tizzy. Bleah.

I had a totally random weekend though. It's the first time I've been home on a Sunday night in a long time. Since G's out frolicking on the bean island, I intended to go home on Saturday morning. Maybe Saturday afternoon. Well, instead, I lazed about on Saturday, all fuzzy and hungover from the school enkai. Man, that was a good time. I was about ready to go home on Saturday at like 6pm when tattoo G calls and says let's go have a bonfire in Aji. And I say sure, because hell, who wants to go home and clean when you can burn stuff? Not me. So I stayed out another night, and passed out in my smokey bonfire clothes at G's.

I woke up all disoriented because I was alone and I wasn't sure what day it was. I sat around some more, and then went to return the bike I never used (bike to Aji? On a granny bike? No thanks.) and ran into L. I just followed L and L around for the rest of the day, stopping for sandwiches and a hair cut and finally yakiniku.

Now I'm home and still all tizzied and I haven't done laundry and I think I left my kotatsu on all weekend. Bleh.

Read more...

Pizza dinner, round two.

So I just got back from Osaka, and I'm pretty wiped out. Yesterday, day four of the vacation, I went to Kurashiki to look at old buildings, but ended up buying a whole lotta stuff. Good stuff though. So my legs are tired, and on top of that, my stomach is still used to eating real meals and demanded a real dinner tonight. And considering my sink has been full since about a month ago, pizza seemed the way to go.

Preparations went by without a hitch. Seriously, if you've got a microwave with oven capabilities, it's the way to go. 500 yen for half a pizza. Might not feed some people, but it's good enough for me. It even has raw garlic slices! Ohyeah! Pretty sheisty with the sauce, but that just means I need to buy extra sauce. I feel like R's told me about the joy of grocery store pizzas before, but I can't remember. Mmm, it's getting cold. Back to food.

Read more...

Uhm, Social Studies?

A few days ago, a fifth grader, a sharp kid, asked me what shakai was in English. I wrinkled my brow, and tried to decide if I misheard a dirty word or not. Seriously. I get asked what unko is all the time. "Poop," I tell them. And to my great delight, they elongate the "oo" so it sounds absolutely ridiculous. "pOOOp," they recite with glee. "Yes," I say. Great pronounciation, I say. I'm such a swell teacher.

Right, shakai. I was pretty confident about this one, because it often comes up in the junior high school. It's social studies. So I tell him, social studies. The kid is delighted. "Open the window social studies!" he proclaimed, displaying his crotch. What? "Open the window social studies!" I thought I knew all the words, sounds, and gestures related to the groin by now, but this was a new one.

Luckily, a teacher with good English skills was there and explained that it's a phrase they use for the fly of your pants. Mmmm. Great. I can't wait for this one to catch on. I turned to the kid. "Sorry, I made a mistake. It's society. Open the window of society." He ran off and repeated it to the kids in the hallway. "Open the window SOCIETY!"

Afterthought: Yes, I know shakai has multiple society-related definitions, but "social studies" is so engrained that I missed a (practice) Japanese test question on its definition. Whee.

Read more...

mySpace.

I guess that's the new rage these days. Friendster seems dead, and I wonder what happened to sixdegrees. That was interesting to me, but I guess it's just a crude version of what we have now. I like to ignore myspace because I'm old and I like to ignore things. Currently I'm ignoring a guy who I was friends with two or three lifetimes ago in high school. Oh Victor Manuel Bennett, I highly doubt you've changed at all. (I can't believe I remember his middle name. A lot of me hopes I'm wrong.)

But sometimes myspace generates absolute gems of ridicule. Take for instance, the latest entity to try to add me as a friend. I like to think they have a bot that harvests the names of people who are currently online, but I also like to think that there's some pathetic insomniac monitoring myspace in his bedroom.

Behold, Conflict of Interest:


Just look at that. I can forgive Frankenstein, and the hokey-looking one on the left, and even the mohawked neanderthal (eek, soul patch), but the one between Hokey and Frank? I'm not witty enough anymore, but my gawd, the intensity. Rock out, you gothy little goat.

Now, lately, I've been really open to new music. Well, desperate for new music. But I think I'll turn them down. Bleh. If I were my sister, I would MS paint it to death. Too lazy.

Read more...