Not so okay with reality

Monday, September 04, 2006

Back on the west coast, day 9.

Reality blows when you're on your way back in.

Google tells me that the phrase "I don't want to be a lawyer" generates 3,900,000 results. Thank you, google.

An old acquaintance that I've never really talked to mentioned that I'd make a good lawyer. Even though that was probably a polite observation on my people skills (my other comments that night included "You look like an Irish Freddie Mercury!!!!"), I appreciated the comment. I still don't want to be a lawyer because I'm not disciplined enough for details, but I appreciated it. He's one of those weirdos that say things and it really sounds like they mean it. PS, thanks for the burger.

I'm trying to look for jobs and apartments and considering a big ol' move (Seattle?), and I feel like I'm really behind because everyone already has jobs or has at least been agonizing it for a month longer than me. In the past week, two people have casually mentioned that updating their resume was on their to do list that afternoon. My to do list today consisted of three things--shower, find some bins that could serve as makeshift drawers (still living in the family room), and do laundry. I started that list at 7pm. I gave up on the last one. What social commitments do I have these days? None, thank goodness.

I will be chipper when I damn well feel like it. Until then, let's all bask in my fretfulness.

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I am okay with reality.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Once I wedged a photocopied poem in some guy's door. It was about boats I think. At the time, it was the only thing I could do. And as much as I'd like to think that he noticed it and at least took a moment to wonder, I'm certain that he never saw it. He probably only touched it twice--once when he stepped out and once when he scuffed it away while he unlocked his door.

[Two days until I'm out of my apartment. Current progress: it almost looks like someone lives here, opposed to someone haphazardly storing things.]

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Stress makes me hemorrhage faster.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Damn that's a difficult word to spell from memory.

Anyway. Here are the stories of note.

Recently a sticker fell off my car onto the dashboard. Not one of my stickers, one of the official ones that came with my car. I didn't look at it until today, when it said "kanji kanji kanji some time two years ago kanji kanji please do the next one by September of 2005." Last year. wtf. wtf. I googled with all my might for information about a round sticker attached to my car, and all I got was that it was a for a suggested check-up. Oh internet, you're so helpful. So now I'm stressing about that too.

Today I signed a billion hats, shirts, pencil cases and notebooks at the elementary school. They're the hardest ones to leave, I think. Even though the junior high school kids can communicate a little bit better, they just can't beat the enthusiasm of the elementary school. I've had so many bashful girls sneak me notes, I love it. And one of my favorite students tried to give me some markers, and I told him I would rather have a letter. He cranked one out in about an hour, and even ended up with some stationary. How a sixth-grade boy pulled that off is beyond me, but he's going to be awesome when he grows up. He said I love you and gave me his phone number. Thanks kid.

When I was biking home today, a couple girls stopped me. They told me there were a couple weird looking guys sitting on the street and that they walked around them. I saw them too--they were the construction guys from across the street taking a break. I explained in my tattered Japanese that the guys were probably okay, they just weren't from our town. Sure they were a bit creepy looking, but they didn't say anything to me. ::shrug::

And last one--some morning, probably yesterday, I was biking to work. I saw a guy about to drop his fly to piss in a field. We made eye contact, and he unzipped and started pissing as I biked by. Oh inaka Japan. I won't miss the public urination part, thanks.

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I wouldn't hire her.

Monday, July 10, 2006

So I've been a semi-good girl, sifting through job websites rather than playing flash games, and I happened across some quotes about how people conduct interviews. The first boss talked about how conversational her interview was, and how she asked some job-related questions. Nice. Reassuring. I even started to try and answer her questions, because they were fun--could you imagine talking about your favorite movie in a job interview? Sounds great. Boss number two had this to say:

Since I did the hiring for our store, I could decide who was brought on. I made a point of not hiring anyone with my name...unless they were OUTSTANDING. I had seen it happen too many times when people got tagged with "oh, are you talking about big Jason or little Jason?" The one person I did hire with my name went by her middle name at my request.


Ugh. Ugh ugh ugh. There are people like this in positions of power? And I'll have to suck up to these people? I don't care if she was taken out of context. Someone's got power issues. I'm glad she's not in education.

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Wacky. (more link abuse)

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Fun with the dictionary:

ecdysiast: see stripteaser. Etymology: Greek ekdysIs

Them wacky Greeks. I do enjoy stumbling onto new words. Thank you Crispin Glover (scroll down to the end of the impressive quote list) for being just as wacky as the Greeks.

Here, have a clip. (Youtube link) It's good for you. No, before you ask, he wasn't on acid, he was being a character from one of his movies. I dig the pants.

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Confession.

Bouncing around the internet, I learned that President Vicente Fox is part Irish. This blows my mind in the same way my students freak out when I say I'm American. Or when I remember that there are Japanese people in South America. It shouldn't be that mind-bending, but hey, I'll admit it when I realize my perceptions are grounded in personal assumptions.

Another fun fact, the Mexican president has a term of six years, and can't be reelected after that. Period. Six years seems odd to me, but then again, I know more about spiders than I do about politics, especially international politics.

This discovery led to an even better realization--that Anthony Quinn was half-Irish. And supposedly, the guy that Zorro was based on was also Irish. That explains why they chose Anthony Quinn to be the old Zorro in the Antonio Banderas movie! And holy cow, he sure looked different when he was in Zorba the Greek! Man, I've never seen that movie, but I keep hearing about it here and there. And man! Anthony Quinn died of pneumonia in 2001? Bummer.

Wait. Wasn't he in Red Dragon?

And then all the pieces fell together, and I realized that Anthony Quinn is not Anthony Hopkins. ::sigh:: Yes, it was a slip, and I'm pretty sure I was so unaware of Anthony Quinn's career that I just kind of assumed when I heard about a famous Anthony, it was probably Hopkins. And yes, if I put more thought into it, I would remember that Hopkins is Welsh, just like Catherine Zeta-Jones and all those kids that mumble. And D, the island guy. (HA.)

The end. I just wanted to ramble a bit and abuse wikipedia linkage.

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Me and my big mouth.

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

I think it's hilarious when I sift through myspaces and I find old guy friends who are still single but have a million attractive girls posting comments anywhere they can cram them. Hi-lar-i-ous. I can name three off the top of my head, although it was the one I just found that clinched it.

Is it okay for me to find my gas station attendants adorable? Like not an "I want to get to know you better" adorable, but an "Awww, he forgot which side my gas cap is on, and can't do mental math" adorable. Totally okay, right? I want to pat them on the head and tell them it's okay to make the same mistakes over and over again. As I pulled away, I saw the guy who was checking traffic for me (oh Japanese gas stations, I'll miss you) pulled a long, low bow. 90 degree angle, at least five seconds long. I thought I was going to crash, I was looking in my rearview mirror for so long. Man, he might be a new guy, but he takes his job seriously.

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Tricked Again.

The internets! No one's updating them!!! Why? I demand entertainment!

Oh, right, Fourth of July. I barely noticed, and that's the way I like it. I'll get my fireworks fix in August, no worries.

Rah rah, red white and blue. I'm American, I appreciate the opportunities and am only moderately irked by the inconvenience of being judged as a result of my government, my country's history, and my country's BMI being criticized by the rest of the world.

I've already been asked (by a fellow somewhat-immigrant, no less) if I celebrated Thanksgiving. (Yes I do, and we do it with steamed rice and mashed potatoes.) I think I've felt on the fringes of Americana proper for a good long time, but that's one of the few concrete examples that I can provide. Does that make sense? It's no fun being labeled as an Outsider if you already feel that way.

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Always cheers me up.

Monday, July 03, 2006

The BBC is always there for me:

It's like a bright sunshiny day:

1. Chandelier in the men's toilet.

2. Hit his head, cut his arm. (Curiously, I recently learned that soccer/football players, when hit anywhere remotely near their head, be it shoulder, elbow, or rib cage, will fake an eye injury. Fascinating.)

3. Cancelled a Christmas role for judging a reality show.

4. HIT HIS HEAD, CUT HIS ARM. I can't get over it. I hope he was high.

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Wind from my sails.

I heard a lovely song one morning, and I felt all special because it felt like it was picked out just for me, and then I found it for myself and realized that it had been making the rounds on the music blogs. I'm not sure if I should feel cheapened by that or not.

I also still cannot do anything while I listen to music. I can't read, I can't write, I can't have a real conversation, and if I'm doing any of those things, then I'm probably really distracted by the music. I used to think that I could train myself to multitask with music, but it's been probably 10 years or so and I'm still tuning one or the other out.

I think I kind of miss being truly miserable, because that was the only time I really paid attention to music. I had to find meaning in everything; I had to assign order. I guess I still do that these days, but with less finesse.

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I was in a furniture store.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

I think I was buying a bunk bed for my college apartment, so that puts us about 5 years ago. Some guy caught my eye, and it turned out to be a guy from high school. We weren't friends, but we were in a PE class together. Maybe Spanish class too. I remember him mentioning something about working with disabled kids, and I was impressed that's how he turned out. When we played football in high school, he used to sit on my head when I hiked the ball. I wouldn't be surprised if he was one of the kids who smoked out during lunch.

I clicked my way onto some girl's myspace. I knew her in high school too. She was small and twerpy, like me but stronger. I have little desire to talk to the girl, but it was nice to see that she grew up, looks happy, grew her hair out some. I barely recognize her.

Another guy that got sacked with the unfortunate nickname of Willow got all hairy and resembles Ben Stiller. He's got cheekbones now.

None of these people were good friends of mine. But it's reassuring that these people seem happy with who they are all these years later. The only people I really think about from high school days are good friends or people who've done something stupid. And of course my friends are phenomenal and can Do No Wrong, but everyone else turned out mediocre and stunted from growing up in an oatmeal suburban town.

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Cursed.

Friday, June 16, 2006

My Japanese is getting so bad that Spanish is starting to creep in again.

And I just got a song from an elementary school musical stuck in my head. Remember Cosmic Pinball? "Take me away, Let me fly through outer space, wherever you sayyyyy" Jeezus it's painful. Look at how vivid my elementary school memories are: Movie Vampires Evilly Mortify Juveniles Seeing Unauthorized Nighttime Programs!

These memories are precious because they're old. I'm not sure why else they're valuable.

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My House, My Party.

Monday, June 12, 2006

My sitemeter says that no one has come to my site in over a month. And while a very very tiny part of myself is sad that I'm all alone, the rest of me is filled with glee. I can talk about whatever I want! And I want to talk about the BBC! And clever headlines! And no one's here to catch me! Hooray! This is way better than eating cookie dough without the eggs for an after school snack.

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Shut up Shut UP.

It's time to rant about the BBC again! Looks like people in their twenties are lusting after the 60s and 70s!

Summary turned Rant
The BBC interviews white students from the London School of Economics, a school which used to be radical and politcally active back in the day. Lotsa demonstrations and arrests and stuff. The article highlights two: first a girl who thinks the late 70s were great and a lot more authentic than the world we live in now.


She makes some valid points about music becoming less precious, but not for the reason I like to cite (oversaturation), and that she has a lot more opportunites now, but for the most part, it feels like she's romanticizing it too much. And she gets quoted twice about clothes. Here's the second one:

Only having three television channels was better, she says, because individual programmes could have much more impact. And Ms Black sees the second-hand clothes culture as being more imaginative than a designer-clothes addiction.

Fashion is what you make it dear, but I'm not going to waste my breath on fashion.

The second guy I give more credit for being more conservative in his response. He talks about how people get nostalgic and forget the crap bits. Then he says he's into the '80s and how some people have '80s parties where they dress up as "yuppies with double breasted suits and with big mobile phones." He likes the "thrusting style" of '80s architecture too. (Oh you poor sexually-charged words. I've been watching too much zefrank.)

And the comments say more of the same, a good mix of romantic idiocy and grateful observations. I'm glad that at least one person said that she was grateful for not ending up as a housebound baby-maker:
I would love to have seen the Beatles and Stones live, but am happy that being born a few decades later meant that I didn't end up a housewife with four kids under my belt before I was 30.

The article ends well, with good insight from Mr. '80s, but the eagerness of the first girl kind of leaves you with a gross feeling in your mouth.

My Turn for a Story
When I was in the 7th grade, some TV station came to our class and asked individuals if we knew what the American Dream was. As a 13-year-old, I had a vague idea, but couldn't give the proper answer. I felt bad, feeling that I was dishonoring my great-grandparents that came over to make some money. Looking back, I also feel a great deal of distaste toward that TV station, as it was more than willing to spin our ignorance into a quick feature. No desire to educate us, just point it out to the general public. Isn't that sad, kids don't know about the funding principles of our Country. I don't remember if anyone got that question right, but I do remember feeling foolish and somewhat taken advantage of.

I'm sure that both of those students got spun a bit, and I feel bad for the first girl, but still.
Shut UP and go do something better than wax nostalgic.

I should also probably take that advice. I'm down to 46 days in the apartment. Damn it all to Hell.

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Oh admit it, it's kind of cool.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

You know, 666. A friend of mine's hopefully getting married on 777, and I feel like I should make something good happen on 888, as everyone thinks that's what I write when I scrawl my initials. If I get married, I'm going to keep my initial scrawl. So there.

I went to see the fireflies again tonight. The weather's still really nice at night--breezy and cool. I soaked in the sounds of semi-inaka--the bugs, the frogs, the airplanes landing. And I'm going to miss it all. Perhaps not the airplanes landing, but I did get a really beautiful clip of the frogs chirping, getting silenced by an airplane, and then hesitantly coming back full chorus. I saw an airplane land before that, and it was sinister. All I could see was the lit up red tail fin, cruising above me, screaming as it taxied.

I'm going to miss being able to stand outside, alone in the dark for almost an hour without being harassed or feeling unsafe. I'm going to miss being able to identify three different frogs by sound, even though I have no idea what they look like. I'm going to miss parking on the side of the road, knowing that I won't get hit or ticketed. I'm going to miss the green, the bamboo forests, the irrigation ditches full of bugs and fireflies and usually not water. I'm going to miss these trivial seasonal things, because I doubt I'll have that wherever I end up.

It's quite a trade for becoming literate again.

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I think this is what happened.

Monday, June 05, 2006

Last Saturday, there was this really swell get-together for the third years. It wasn't a snob party, but it was a nice chance to hang out with the people I got here with. We've all gotten used to each other. There were nine of us, and in this hokey, nostalgic way, I felt like we were family. You don't know everyone absolutely, but I felt comfortable with all of them, where I could sit and talk and ask questions and listen to old stories and not mind. I'll miss them all.

However, we also took the time to get nice and drunk. Perhaps not as ridiculous as the kids outside who were having a food fight and spending money trying to get underwear out of a crane game, but we had a good time. Such a good time, that I recall a conversation that may or may not have happened that night.

No, this happened Sunday night. Meh, whatever.

I expressed this relief that I'm missing out on pop culture back home. It's not important, but when everyone is referencing it, it becomes important. I really like being selective about my news. And I say that I'm glad I've missed out on all that Tom Cruise crap--I still haven't watched the whole couch incident, and I think I'll be okay with that. But someone else proclaimed that Tom Cruise makes him happy. I can't remember why, but it's true. Tom Cruise is just going crazy, in this lovely public way, and it's just stunning. Oh I can't remember what he was talking about.

Last night I dreamed about William Riker. That's my current mental state.

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Tonight in Eikaiwa...

Thursday, June 01, 2006

I learned that older people in Japan think that kids with round (as in protruding) foreheads and deep-set eyes are clever/smart. Kinda like a Neanderthal.

Also, I learned a new Japanese saying: 主婦は 二人 いらない。(しゅふは ふたり いらない/shufu wa futari iranai) Translated, it means you don't need two housewives (in one house). It's great. There's a woman who doesn't get along with her mother, and she expresses her exasperation with such natural, unrestrained delivery I'd swear she spent some time out of Japan. Her mother is a year older than mine, and I like to think that I would be like this woman if my mother had kids earlier.

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Snippet 2

Headline from boingboing.net:

Bacteria eats chocolate and shits electricity


Man, I forgot that English could be whimsical.

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That's really not going to help.




Wait, what was I reading about again? Jeezus. I seriously just stared at her chest in a bewildered daze. Please note that Japan is silk-screened on her right breast in gold (as you're probably still staring at her large, yet cleavageless chest). Thanks BBC, for another pretty much unrelated photo.

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No Such Thing As Overkill.

Wednesday, May 31, 2006

In my life and in my posts, there is no such thing as overkill.

Today I went to see the fireflies again. Third time this week, and the only reason why I didn't go yesterday was because I was hashing out harmonies in Chuo Koen. Getting devoured by the damn mosquitos, might I add. I'll go again on Friday with G, and maybe I'll drag other people along one more time if the fireflies are still alive.

The fireflies are important to me, in the same way cherry blossoms are important. They're only around for a very short period of time, and this'll probably be the last time I'll get to see them in Japan. I'm trying to say goodbye to stuff, and that means getting my absolute fill of whatever I'm focusing on.

I went last year to look at fireflies on some sweaty evening, by myself, in the dark. I was freaked out because I didn't know if it was the right place and I was afraid I was walking into someone's driveway so I only went about halfway down the path before scurrying back to my car.

This year was different. When the cherry blossoms were in bloom, I wandered the park by the airport a lot. It's a lot better than you'd think. It took maybe...3 hours to walk the whole thing (on three separate days, however). The last day I went in April it was ridiculously windy. Howling through the trees windy. And I discovered a great lookout point. I couldn't see much, but it made me feel like I was playing Oregon Trail, and I was peering into a safe, welcoming valley. I haven't seen much like it in real life, so that's all I have to compare it to.

Right, from that point, surprisingly, I recognized the udon shop by the firefly place. Something reminded me to go this week, and it was a lot better than last year, where I saw maybe three or four fireflies, and I was all bummed because I was playing mail tag with G and he ended up not coming.

It's hard to explain what makes me go back so many times. I get this impression from movies that fireflies fill the air while they bob and sway. (Although I couldn't name a movie with fireflies in it except for the one we watched last week, "When the Last Sword Was Drawn" and that depressing "Grave" one that I haven't seen.) And the ones I saw, they swoop and stuff, but they stay over their little canal. Tonight they're flying higher, so maybe I just need to wait a little longer.

I guess it also has to do with the weather. It's cool at night still, and the frogs are chirping, but not screaming. Yes, when there's enough of them, they scream. Ear-ringing screams. So it's cool with a warm breeze, and there're frogs and fireflies, and there's no way you can be grumbly when nature's being so accomodating. I took G there on Monday, and it's even better when there's a hand to hold.

Tonight there were more people, and I saw an old student. She's probably 16, maybe 17 by now. She was sending mails on her phone almost the whole time and I had to laugh. She was with her family, but still dressed up, and intent on staying in touch with her friends. Silly girl. She was squatting off to the side and someone informed her that she shouldn't be pissing there. Then her little sister (cousin) announced that she had to pee. Great. The little cousin had a small lantern shaped like a Hello Kitty head. Absolutely adorable.

I told my ex-student that I knew her (other) cousin, and she was impressed. She wanted to know why, and I just said he was a really happy kid. I didn't tell her that the damn kid runs around my English classes at the kindergarten (well, he's only three, and apparently he likes me) and likes to pull/bite/kick/grab other students. Even older students. I hope he grows out of it. I know his whole name, and for a new student, that's impressive. I only know one other 3-year-old's full name, and that's because I am absolutely in love with him. He gives me hugs and says goodbye and asks the kids who are screaming bloody murder to be quiet. And he's 3! He's going to forget me in a year or two and it'll break my heart.

Back to the ex-student. Turns out I saw her family on Monday. Her father shone this bigass bright light at me and G and didn't return our "Good Evening." Lame. But he was nice and friendly tonight when he found out I was a teacher. So there.

Later, a couple families with small kids arrived. One kid kept saying totaru! totaru! instead of hotaru. Her mom kept correcting her too. The other girl kept insisting on being held, just a little higher. It's banal when I regurgitate it, but it was really cute at the time. Right before they went home, both kids were sitting on their mothers' shoulders, a little sleepy but still fascinated. I wanted to take a picture, but those moments don't catch when they're complete strangers.

So that's pretty much my life now. I love it. No TV, no more insane nights out 'til the buttcrack of Dawn, just fireflies and frogs and a slight summer breeze. Going back to the suburbs might kill me.

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