4am

Can't sleep. I woke up at 1:30 after about 1 hour of sleep, and it seems I am now back to my regularly scheduled programming of waking nights and sleepless days. Those 2 decent nights I just enjoyed seem intended to merely taunt me, rather than satisfy.

Luxe

Silk clothing is niiiice... Very, very niiiiiiice.... The 'nog will never be the same.

Home on the Range

20 hours have passed but a day has been temporarily gained. I am home alone on a Friday afternoon, as my family have disappeared to celebrate Grandpa's 90th birthday.

I left the house at 9 in the morning, the taxi I had reserved the night before showing up on time. I felt so lush, dashing off to the bus station in a taxi I had reserved. Taxis themselves are nothing to me, but to have arranged a pick up just feels so much more posh.

My cat is climbing all over my desk right now, scrambling mom's papers and drooling on my fingers in his glee at finally finding me home again. I am such a soft touch for him, covered as I was in orange and white cat hairs withing 15 minutes of walking in the door. He is lying belly up now, with his head depressing the number keys, so I think it is time to stop.

No More Teachers, No More Students, No More Work

... for 3 weeks at least. Last class of the day was what is probably my worst class in the entire school, but it was an activity that called for lots of running around and chaos, so it suited them well, and didn't make me feel like walking out like I desperately wanted to do last week.

Flying out tomorrow, and tonight will be my usual last minute packing chaos. However, this time, it is not entirely my own procrastination at fault. I did my laundry on Tuesday, and I have been waiting since then for it all to dry out. Last night, I even had it hanging in front of a heater, but to little or no effect. I am hoping that tonight it will dry out at least enough that I don't feel soggy wearing some of it tomorrow. It still has a little bit of time, as I have to run a couple of errands in Yonago before I return home.

I have been given a couple of presents from the principal and vice-principal to give to my parents when I return home. I don't know what they are, but they are beautifully wrapped, and were thoughtfully presented still in the Takashimaya bag. Just so you know nobody cheaped out on the prezzies.

Everyone keeps commenting on how excited I must be to see my family again, especially after a year away, but I explain, actually, my family won't be there until Sunday. When they ask why, I reply that they are travelling. They are all going to be at my grandfather's 90th birthday celebration in Prince George, leaving me to relax in peace, try and recover some sleep, and order a pizza. I am so excited about the pizza bit, as I haven't lived within delivery range for 5 years and am already tasting the possibilty in my mouth.

Unfortunately, as much as I was looking forward to going dancing when I go home, I may be disappointed once again, unless I can drag my brother and his girlfriend out. I love my friends, but they are kind of lame sometimes. I finally am going somewhere with a variety of clubs to choose from, and I am not going to be able to go. Perhaps, just perhaps, I can convince Leanne to come all the way in from PoCo, but I think most of them just don't understand the situation. The desperation. The delayed gratification. The deprivation.

雪の国

It has been snowing off and on, to little and a lot of effect, since Sunday night. I drove into Yonago last night to run errands and deliver Christmas cheer, and as I drove I noticed how much less snow there was in the city. I can only imagine what it is like in Nichinan town right now.

In the past hour or so, the flakes have gone from drifting little confetti flakes into large, fluffy, determine to make a difference ones. It looks like I may be leaving my white Christmas behind.

Voices From the Past and Sticky Sticks

Saturday afternoon I got a lovely surprise that almost made me cry. While sitting on my living room floor, going through and listening to music, I got a phone call from -c. Conversation ensued about who is doing what and where and how and when, but not so much on the who, until the connection was cut. My eyes got all moist as I remembered good times and last year and a smiling face with laughing (sometimes unfocused) eyes. My mood was set for the rest of the day.

The Christmas party was preceded by a lovely dinner at Do!Do!Do! Cafe where many of the staff were laughing at my Santa hat and numerous bells. It is hard to be discreet going down stairs during someone's wedding reception, especially during a speech when you have bells on your shoes... The Christmas party itself was well attended, as all the friends I invited showed up and hung around till wee hours dancing, drinking, and laughing more and more. Although there was a band that refused to yield, hollering out, "2 more song!" then, "1 more song!" as they launched into heavy head-banging renditions of whtever the hell they were trying to play. Sadly, people started filtering out at this point, leaving me, the last DJ, with nought but the die-hards or too-drunk-to-leaves. Both Cian and Mollerfucker performed excellent sets, Cian with borrowed back-up from other bands. He even ventured into a third chord, much to the shock of Ted. Tetrapod, a trio I had never seen before, also rocked the house, playing a funky instrumental of the Peter Gunn theme song.

Once the party was over, decorations hastily collected and good-byes rapidly mumbled, we three stooges and Subo ventured back to Do!Do!Do! so I could lust quietly and flirt ostentatiously with my cute waiter at 2:30 in the morning. We spent quality time telling un-quality jokes ("What is brown and sticky?" "A stick") until it was time to kick us out for the night. Sarah and Subo, to celebrate their recent engagement, carried on back to Missile, while Elly and I stumbled on home to Sarah's floors.

Sunday, in a desire for brunch of good food, and again, my waiter, we meandered on back to Do!Do!Do! for one last visit, intended to sustain me until I return to Japan in January. Knowing grins were exchanged amongst the wait staff when we strolled in less than 10 hours since our last visit (which had also been made in less than 10 hours since our last visit before that) and we were seated in the honour spot in the middle of the bar. ALl this so I could make it through a quasi-manatory town organized Christmas party that I was going to show up 2 hours late to. Ahh, life is good.

And the snow keeps coming. There is at least 1 foot on the ground, if not more, and the kids have turned everything into a snow country, populated with snowmen everywhere. My garden is looking gorgeous under the Christmas lights right now. It's a shame it is too cold to stand and stare at it.

End of a Term

Winding down to the last week or so of classes, wondering if I can keep up the energy level. I think I could probably be a teacher, in fact I may need to become one just to get some decent holidays. I blame our lack of real vacation time in Canada on the American influence. Fine, you wanna be a pioneer? Go ahead. I'd really rather have the month off. Europe managed to swing it, so why can't we? Or maybe I should be a politician... They hardly ever work. Hmmm.

Only 2 more nights until I get to play DJ again for a little while. I have been listening to and culling music for days and days now. I haven't yet decided what I want to do with my set yet, as I fear playing some of the stuff I want to that would make me happy won't necessarily work for everyone else. Just cause I love "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails doesn't mean it will get everyone else out on the floor. But I may just decide, "To hell with them all!" It's not like I am getting paid for this and have to bow to others' demands. Hey, I didn't take requests last time...

So Much for the Snow

The rains have come and they don't look to be stopping any time soon. All the glorious snow has turned to slush; the sky is grey; the weather is bone-chilling. With but 2 classes today, I am wishing I had taken the afternoon off, so as to bundle up with a blanket, book, hot chocolate laden down with marshmallows, and music. One of the lovely things about shoji screens is how the keep out the misery.

Bloody Earth

The red salvia in the schools central garden have been weighed down by the snow today. It looks like the earth has been done irreperable harm as flashes of crimson red burst out from under the snow in cracks and crevices.

It snowed for a couple of hours this morning, creating a gorgeous covering, however it couldn't keep it up as the weather warmed just enough to create a little slush. Roads should prove to be an adventure this evening when I hope to go for a walk. I may have to venture out before dark after all.

The vice-principal, being the kind soul she is, is trying to send everyone home as early as possible, rather than having lingerers until 6:30 or 7. May as well get caught in a mess of slush and useless drivers -- certainly better than ice and ineptness.

I am trapped waiting, waiting, waiting for one of the 6th grade teachers to appear. Next week is the gingerbread cookie cooking disaster and it must be well planned or true chaos will overcome. Ingredients need to be bought, times decided upon, and loins girded.

Looking forward to returning home tonight to leftovers, videos, music and a warm kerosene heater. Happiness is not a warm gun, in fact a warm gun would fall short for several miles. Happiness is instead a mixer and a stack of CDs, as I got so excited playing last night I forgot to sleep until well past my intended witching hour.

Geese are Getting Fat

And, quite frankly, it's not just the geese. Gotta get outdoors more. A situation which will not be helped by tonight's visit to Do!Do!Do! Cafe to ogle the wait staff. Friends and food, that is always the way it seems to go.

Should be ski season soon though, and when I come back to Japan, I will have to hit the slopes a few times, as well as ski gracefully down them many many more. Well, "not in an utterly inept manner" would be more accurate than "gracefully" I suppose.

Lately the weather has been a wee bit unpredictable, and I shall blame it in part for the indoor nature of my life lately. Twice today rain has suddenly come pouring down while the sun shines on. It has happened several times in the past couple of weeks, and while I am not a huge fan of the rain, I do adore the colour of the sunlight when it filters through the clouds in a sudden rainstorm.

Engrish Madness

At lunch I sat next to a girl wearing a t-shirt that said,

Town and
Country
Infernal sister wave tour 2003

Gotta love that burning feeling...

I saw a boy with

***PERVERSION***

hanging over his ass, written as it was on the tail of his t-shirt. What do you think he's trying to tell us?

Miscellany

Yesterday, a student was wearing a t-shirt with "A sound only I can perceive" written across it.

5 day work weeks are just too long. 4, or even 4 and a half, would make me very happy. It's not even Wednesday and I am counting days until the weekend.

I slept in until 7:50 twice last week, and it was only a 4 day week. I have taken to using 2 alarm clocks now. A little worying.

My apartment, being the shape that it is, was acting as a wind-catcher last night. Plants and trees and palms were whipping around in the garden, lashing about like a tornado was on its way. Yet when I went outside to go for a ramble, there was nothing. All bundled up as I was against the wind, it all proved unnecessary as I walked past a businessman in shirtsleeves.

I think I would like to try out being a DJ for a little while. I might actually have to buy decks though, as I don't think you can get any better without actually practicing once in a while. But I also want to be in the foreign service. And I want to be a teacher. I could probably do the teacher thing and the DJ thing, but I imagine it would be a little difficult to travel my ever-expanding music collection around the globe.

Christmas is almost here and I have no idea what to get my father. Last year, I used a brilliant stolen idea and gave him loads and loads of music I thought he might like, copied out of my collection, so I could add some to that this year. But it needs a little something more... And for Jason, I am thinking about giving him a used gift, which sounds kind of wrong, but I think would probably be appreciated. It's a Sony digital camera, and it is far better than the one he and his girlfriend brought to Japan a couple of years ago, and would come with all the accessories as well as a new memory card. Which actually costs as much as the present I would probably end up buying them were I home. So I guess it is really a memory card, with a camera and stuff included.

How bad do you think it hurts if you burst an eardrum? And what does it take to pop it? The last 2 times I have flown, I have been in immense pain when the plane is descending. It always feels as though my left ear is going to explode from the pressure, while I sit there pressing my hand against it, trying not to cry.

Women are nuts. This includes me, however I am not nearly so bad as some,and they are usually the some that don't deserve to have such a decimated opinion of themselves. It is so bad that they lack the confidence to go up to a man and ask him to dance. I want to smack these women I love and scream and shout until they see what I see, but I know it is never going to happen. Never. And I want to cry.

On the other hand, I am revelling in my power. At DNA, a friend thought a boy was cute, but was too worried to approach him. Then, we saw him trapped in a corner with bitter-bitter girl and grew worried. It was suggested I go get him, then there was the "oh shit" realization crossing her face as she remembered that I will do that sort of thing. And I did. Dragging 2 behind, we walked over. Right before the final approach, I turned to Diane and said, "I am about to be very rude." As bitter-bitter girl turned to speak to a friend, I made the international come hither gesture with a finger and he followed us onto the dance floor. Where the shy girl I stole him for proceeded to ignore him. . . I just don't get it. I have had friends do similiar things for me before, and trust me, I always do my best on the follow-through. If I lose out, I lose out. So be it. Yep. Women are bloody nuts.

History Repeating

So, I have held a few jobs -- not that many really when you consider the fact I usually stick around for a while, but still, I have had a couple.

My first job was working for my father when he was at State Electric. I worked there in the summer for a couple of months, and then on weekends during school for a little while. When the work finished, I left. And within a couple of years, State Electric was no more. Not saying this has anything to do with me, as I barely mattered in the whole scheme of things, but it did start the beginning of some kind of trend.

I got a job working at Lumberland after that. I spent about one and a half years there before moving onto the competition. A year later, if not less, Lumberland existed no longer. It was bought out by a Canadian rival company, and the store I used to work in eventually closed down.

I then spent 5 years doing various things, in a combination of part-time and full-time work, at the Home Depot. Nope, they are too big to cave in the aftermath of my leaving, but I am pretty sure that most of the people who were my managers are no longer there, or have been transferred out of province.

Then, I took it overseas. For three years, I worked in Yodoe Junior High School as an assistant language teacher. Turns out I was the last JET programme paticipant to work full-time there, as the town merged with Yonago city 8 months later. In the interim, Katherine was hired to fill in until everything was settled.

And now, I am working at Saihaku Elementary School. I have been here for 16 months now, and it looks like the Board of Education is looking to cut my position. My vice-principal and principal have been sending out surveys and lobbying hard to keep it, but it is now down to serious budgetary concerns.

Now, look at all this an think about it. Seriously. Imagine being me and trying to get a job reference?? The only company I worked for that hasn't disappeared doesn't allow references, even if you could hunt down my former managers who are no longer managers. Or I could get a reference letter from one of these two schools, provided I am willing to either write it or translate it.

Now imagine this is a job interview and you are interviewing me. You're looking at my job history and asking for references, as I try and explain, "No, they don't exist anymore. No, they don't exist anymore either. Yeah, well, they don't really allow references to be given, but if you want I could try and hunt the down. Although, they aren't managers anymore, but that should still be alright, I think... Oh and yeah, um, no one at that school speaks English so I had to translate that letter, and the other school, well, the teachers have been transferred. Um, so, do I get the job?" Foreboding descends upon you...

Would you hire me?? Screwed. Very definitely screwed.

Only 25 miles to go now...

Well, not really miles, and actually even fewer than 25 days, but I have that song rattling around inside my brains right now, bouncing from hemisphere to hemisphere and making me want to dance.

On December 16th, I fly home. And on December 16th, I will arrve at home for a three week plus a couple days visit during which I will relax, shop, read books, visit friends and family and perhaps adjust to the time change more than two days before I fly home. Being a night person doesn't help with the time change, as I am already incline to stay up till 1 or so. Add in a lost day and several missing hours and I may as well stay up all night...

Which works well if you are going to a club, as I plan to on my second night home, but not so well if you are trying to be social in a family where most people are in bed by 10 or 11, and are up by 8.

Would have worked well last week, when we went to DNA, Steve and Tom's new club in Tottori city. And a real club it was, with people doing real club things. Dancing and ginding and flirting and drinking and making out in corners, on dance floors, and up against walls. Even a few body shots were found as people shook it out on the dance floor to house and hip hop and a few pop tunes. Unfortunately, I am turning into a music snob, as I actually liked very little of the music being played.

Steve has explained to me before the importance of being able to maintain a beat under the tunes, which I fully understand. However, I just don't care. I want to hear music that is music -- you know, songs you might actually hear on the radio, that will make you crank it up wherever you are and sing a sway and shake it. The house DJ did layer a few of those over the electronica, but not enough to make me want to stay on the floor. The hip hop DJ did his thing and seemed to do it well enough, but few of the songs made me feel like I was having fun.

Unlike karaoke, where all the songs -- well, usually all the songs -- bring out the joy and fun to be had of a good night out with a few friends. One song, which seemed to be intended as a semi-seirous tune, was taken far from seriously by Diane and I. It was called "おばさんになっても," from the point of view of a woman who has turned thirty and is lamenting the things she can no longer do. She misses out on being able to wear miniskirts and bikinis and going to Saipan with her boyfriend, claiming that if she did wear a miniskirt or bikini, she would merely lose out to the younger women on the beach, as he prefers younger women. Although she does get a little of he own back, when she says that he has already become an おじさん too. Diane and I couldn't stop laughing, mostly in disbelief, and Ritsuko didn't quite get where we were finding the humour in it, although it did throw her into brief fits of laughter as well.

Insolvency Doesn't Totally Suck

Despite the fact that I have only had 134 yen in my wallet since last Monday -- well, mostly in my wallet, as some of those 1 yens were spread round in various locations of the penthouse -- I managed to have a pretty good week.

One friend was so worried about the state of things she was trying to force money on me as she feared for my starvation, however I was able to reassure her that I was well-stocked should any such emergency befall me. I proved this by sending her text messages all last week, informing her of the culinary delights I was partaking in. This ranged from sweet chili sauce salmon; double mustard chicken; dijon chicken with mango chutney, brie and pappadums; tzatziki dip with pita bread; chicken and veg in a honey-garlic reduction; braised star anise pork; and mongolian vegetable stew. All in all, I did all right.

Although I did experience a moment of concern on Thursday night when I ran out of kerosene for my heaters, but was quick to remember that I have air conditioners / heaters in all my main rooms, so the bedroom was safe. In the kitchen, I chose to boil water instead of using the wall unit, and the living room portable heater still had kerosene, as did the bathroom, so I was set.

Didn't go out much, but I did inordinately enjoy volleyball practice Saturday night by accompanying it with a bottle of kahlua and milk. And the gorgeously clear weather was conducive to outdoor strolls. Last night was a little but of a shock though, going out after dark and wishing I had my gloves and scarves with me, pulling up all my hoods over top of my head, and practically retracting my arms into my body in an attempt to stay warm.

Gotta say, am really really glad it's payday though...

研修会 and Johnny Cash

In a meeting, I am listening to a man speak, one of those older men who have developed a lisp that makes it difficult to follow. Combine this with oversized, heavy black frame glasses, greying hair, lined face, and extremely slow manner of moving, and I can't help but wonder if he can even remember his own elementary school experience.

He finishes speaking, takes his glasses off, and leans back in his chair. His eyes are closed as his head seems to do the "about to nap" dance. It is as if his wind-up spring has wound down, his work has finished, and he can go back to the rest we disturbed him from. He reminds me of the Johnny Cash story I heard many years ago -- exactly how I pictured it really.


The Johnny Cash Story

At one of those huge country music concerts, like the Merritt Mountain Music Fest, where you have hundreds of artists from all over performing, someone ran into Johnny Cash. He was being driven around backstge in a golf cart, dazing in and out of awareness. Everytime the cart stopped, Johhny would jolt upright, thrust out his hand, and say "Hey, I'm Johnny Cash. Nice to meet you," regardless of whether anyone was standing in front of him.

Dancing Shoes

There is a 6th grade boy who I call dumpling, whose real name is Kenta. I prefer dumpling though, as it is what we shout at each other every time we cross paths. Why? When we studied food, he was the only boy in both classes who remembered the english for gyoza, should you feel a burning need to translate it, means dumplings.

He is a clever boy, with an open face who smiles easily, but what I love most about him is that he is light on his feet. In the prefectural track and field tournament a while ago, he entered the high jump event and spent a lot of time, on his own, after school practicing in the gym by himself. And when he would run up to the bar, he was running on his toes, as if he were dancing. I didn't realize it at the time, but that is how he always runs.

I started to pay closer mind whenever I saw him, and have realized he walks the same way. He is constantly bouncing or leaping from the ball of one foot on to the next. How can you not see a kid bouncing gracefully down the halls and be gloomy or depressed? It's like he has some crazy energy inside of him his body is utterly unable to contain, which constantly sends him rocketing off the ground. Wish I were more like that.

Lurking in Bushes and Under Tables and Behind Computers

Friday night in Do!Do!Do! Cafe was revelatory to say the least. Spread out over 6 hours as it was, not altogether surprising that something or other should come out into the open. In this case, it was Ted, the sneaking deviant that he is. Not that I have any right to be upset -- if you post something in the wide open, what expectation can you possibly have of privacy? This does not mean I am going to go telling people about it, but I look forward to pleasant suprises once in a while when someone chooses to reveal their presence in a comment or some such.

Sarah and I, in an effort to wind down after the conference, as well as the long work week, headed straight for the delicious food and appealing eye candy to be found in Do!Do!Do! Cafe, getting a table on the second floor where we could intervene in others' lives deus ex machina-like. Or, at least comment on their lives.

1, 2, 3 hours were passed with deep-fried camembert, mango juice, vodka tonics, laughter, murderers, and leering. (Women are no better than men, really.) In the 4th, Pete's feet and close-cropped head was spotted walking by on the way to find relief. Calling him on the phone, he soon joined us, bringing Cian and Tadayuki with. It seems they would have discovered our presence soon enough anyway, as I choose not to place any harness on my laughter,, letting it come on full and loud in true pleasure, as it is meant to be.

We were treated to a bold new invention, an idea recentlyhatched in Cian's overworked mind -- Dog shoes. My practical queries were dismissed out of hand as he persisted in expounding on his folly. Pete and Cian sucked down addictive and highly caffeinated Earl Gray while Sarah sat in the corner like a 1920's movie star with her smokes and V&Ts. She nearly revealed my devious plottings to the audience, and potential offers of possible help were made, however I shall manage this on my own, and rapidly shushed her. Pete bemoaned his sickly state and when to join the girls of the next table, leaving Sarah and I (at my own instigation, unfortunately) to carry on and battle forth through a conversation about the スケベ with Tadayuki, as Cian wisely kept his head down.

After hour 6 was well on its way, we decided en masse to give up the ghost of the night, wending our way down and out into the cool and soft rain that had hurried us in six and a half hours earlier. All in all, a gorgeous way to start a weekend.

Study buddy

Cian is busy cramming for the level 3 Japanese language test in early December, and called last night to inquire about the test's format. He has been enjoying the studying lately, even getting so into it that when Sachiko asked him to do some work yesterday, he got a little "narky."

It's strange how into studying you can get, especially when considering how into it you didn't get when you had to do it the first time around. As one of those people who dropped out of university only to go back after a couple of years, I realized then what a difference it makes if you are studying because you want to, and the subject matter is something you actually have interest in.

My Japanese study has been sliding for a while, however in the past few days I have managed to rekindle my interest, even more so after talking to Cian and realizing how much better his Japanese is getting. If he keeps it up, he will soon pass me as all the things I have learned flee my mind. To quote Will, "I have forgotten more Japanese than I ever knew."

Refreshing!!

Saturday, sunny, 22 degrees or so, next to no clouds in the sky.

Sunday, sunny, about 20 degrees, and very few clouds in the sky.

Monday, sunny again, reasonably warm at about 18 or 20 degrees.

Tuesday evening, clear clear skies -- one of those clear nights when you can almost begin to fathom just how vast space is -- and 6 degrees. Goddamn. I needed gloves to go walking. And this was preceded by a very excited warning from one of the teachers about the cold snap that was to spring on us as of this morning. It's true, by the way.

Chickens Without Heads

The grade 3 Halloween party was set to happen during 5th and 6th period. I got to school, knew what I had to do and when in order to get everything done on time. I started asking teachers for favours and moving supplies out to where they needed to be.

2nd period rolls around, and I go help out with the 3rd and 4th grade marathon. Seizing the chance, I have a quick last minute discussion with Naitou sensei, and discover that now, the party will only be during 6th period, as the students need to practice for the fall festival next week. Okay, no problem. Means a little less work for me. So instead of cancelling the 4th period class, like I had planned to do in order to decorate the multi-purpose classroom for the kids, I teach the 4th grade class.

Lunch is eaten, I get some random stuff sorted out for the party, so that when the 2nd gaders leave the gym, I can just dash in and get it all very quickly put in place. Cleaning time rolls around and the 3rd graders are helping out in the multi-purpose room, when an argument breaks out between 2 classes about when the party is. I attempt to settle the argument by saying that it will now be 6th period only. I walk into the other classroom and look at the daily schedule board, and it says "5th and 6th period. English: Halloween Party!!" I run upstairs to check the third classroom and all the kids there say the same thing. I look for Naitou sensei, or any of the 3rd grade teachers, and discover them all in a meeting in the principal's office -- at least until cleaning time is over. I attempt to call one of them out, but no luck.

Stress level is climbing.

I scramble to make up a stamp rally sheet, just in case, and start mentally running through what I need to do and who can do what. I run into Ebara sensei and he says, "No, no, no, the party will be 5th and 6th period. We aren't going to have music today." Crap, crap, crap. With fistfuls of stamp and ink pads, I run around to ask favours again of all the teachers I had previously asked and then un-asked. Naitou sensei sees me, and from then on until when I go home, he apologizes for the mess. He takes care of filling up my water buckets while I try and get into the gym to sort some stuff out, while hoping the kids don't change too quickly into their costumes.

The party starts with the stamp rally, and after I have sent everyone off I run back out to the gym to take care of small details. The kids come back, I come back and everyone heads to the gym where the party games start in earnest.

I pulled it off, just barely, and you should have seen me when the day ended and I was trying to take care of the clean-up.

Conversational Threads

Who will run in the ekiden? It's only 1 km and they need 1 or 2 more people... Everyone is sick, or injured, or busy... What are you doing for Christmas? Going home? Really? When? Oh no! The tournament is on Dec. 18th, you're going to miss it... Who can we get? Let's ask the doctor and his wife. But, she looks like she'll break! She can drink you know, wanders round Asahi-machi, running up a tab. Really, but she looks like a skeleton, what the hell can she drink?? Well, invite them both to play anyways... Mr. Yamao has silk pyjamas. No way! Yes, he got them from his mother when his father died. He must have brought them back from somewhere. Anyways, Mr. Yamao would wear them to bed, but in the morning when he had to use the bathroom (outhouse) he would change into regular pyjamas so the neighbours wouldn't see his silky luxury. I have a silk robe, I love it... Daisuke wakes up early every morning. He is turning into an old man, just like his grandfather. He acts like him -- even getting angry in the same way, suddenly yelling out about what makes him angry. Yuka is nothing like that; she's more like her mom. Takes forever to get her up in the morning. Remember the time when I called you at 9:30 and woke you up? You were supposed to catch a plane to Tokyo at 10am. And I made it! Yeah, can you believe it? Yuki was on time...

Money must be funny, in the rich man's world

Once again, someone called and asked me about money today. I finally go and get myself together, pay all my bills, and yet people are still phoning about them. I have nothing left to give!! I shelled out (due entirely to my own procrastination -- well, half due to my own procrastination) 150,000 yen for bills last Tuesday. I only take home 215,000 yen a month. As you may imagine, it has left a wee bit of a dent in my wallet, my bank book, my social life...

November in Suspension

The kids are tearing around the school grounds in shorts and t-shirts. The sky is clear of all but a few wispy cotton clouds. I am sitting at my desk while the sun beats down, wishing I could be a cat, sprawled in careless glory under the rays, idly watching the dust dance as it is caught in the light. The leaves have barely begun changing, annuals are still blooming, but already it is November. There is a smell in the air which seems like autumn might finally be upon us.

Let's do the Time Warp Again!

Well, Saturday night was another rockin' Hallowe'en party, even better than last years I think, if only because Cian got the depressing slow singers out of the way very early, and had the bands jumping off and on the stage in rapid succession. The flow was gorgeous, as was most of the music and costumes.

The bad fairy was once again out in her splendour, associating with the likes of Buffy the vampire slayer, obachans galore, a little bit of the wild kingdom, all the while being cheered on by pom-pommed cheerleaders and a shriner (not a fez wearing shriner, but a woman working at a shrine who sells fortunes).

Missile followed, where Buffy and I were treated to a couple of table dances and enjoyed a great deal of catty commenting on the slutty nurse. Sadly, there was nothing worth pulling, so Buffy did not need to lend me her second house key. Better luck next time, I suppose...

Ode on a Heated Toilet Seat

It coddles me in the morning and soothes me late at night.
Whilst all around me the air brings nought but chills,
The warmth that is exuded there leaves me content and placid.
I look forward to the moment when I can use my head at home,
As the pink plastic rings at school only bring me to tears of shock.
I fully understand why toilets of squat have gained prevalence in Japan,
The home of central heating's demise. Tis truly one of those pleasures
I shall miss.


(I'm pretty sure Keats' Ode on a Grecian Urn was Ode on, wasn't it? Obviously, I am not yet up to his level of writing but, hey, it's a toilet seat.)

Bend Me, Break Me

Tonight is belated birthday night. Diane and I will be taking a brief holiday in Asia for Thai massages. I understand Thai massages to be the ones where the masseuse attempts to break your body, and you walk out feeling like rubber. This will be an interesting experience as the only massages I have ever tried before have been the ones that make you want to fall asleep in utter bliss. I'm a little concerned...

It's enough to put me off my lunch

Today's salad: Natto salad!

As soon as I realized the infamous natto was a part of today's kyushoku,　I hauled ass on down to the meeting room where the teachers' lunches were being meted out, calling "No natto please!" as soon as I entered the room.

I had unfortunately not been aware of today's natto content when I asked to eat with ４の１ today. I was assigned a seat by Okutani sensei next to the biggest natto fan in the whole room. His plate was heaping with natto, so much so that it almost fell off the edge of his plate. And I tried not to gag. Moved my seat as far away from his as I could, turned to watch other things, and in general tried not to breathe to deeply or cough out of fear I might be sick. I desperately tried not to watch anyone else eat as the stringy goo that suspends itself from natto made its way from plate to chopstick to mouth and down their chins and onto their desks...

One of the students exclaimed, upon seeing my natto-less plate, "Well, of course!! Foreigners never like natto!" to which I proudly mentioned my friends who gorge on it on a daily basis. Shock befell her, as she said, "But I saw it on TV!"

Really really really don't want to eat natto. I realize the unfairness of judging a food without having eaten it, but I have never liked beans all that much, and serving them to me fermented is unlikely to help. Nor can I get past the smell and sight of it all. I am desperately afraid that a force feeding would make me very very sick...

Bury Me In Music

The kitchen table, as well as half of the chairs, is buried under stacks and stacks of CDs as I try and pick out stuff for the Halloween party. I have been listening to stuff I haven't listened to in years, and am starting to feel overwhelmed by too much music. Too many good songs, I am having a tough time weeding out what will make my night. To top it off, I will have a short set. Well, it will be shorter than last year anyways, as there are a multitude of DJs, all of whom (excepting me) know what they are doing. I don't mind the short set, as it means I have a better chance to be social and dance, but will they play music I like is the main concern.

If in a couple of days no one has heard from me, please come dig me out from under the avalanche of tunes I will most likely be buried and suffocating under...

Heavy Machinery

Every morning when I arrive at school, Yuuji-kun is standing in the teachers' foyer pretending to be heavy machinery. A variety of beeps, bumps, crashes, crushes and grinding noises escape him as he maneuvers massive piles of dirt, picks up cars, knocks down buildings, and rebuilds train tracks. Every so often, I get involved and cause tragic accidents that may cause thousands of people their lives at some point in the future, as the building I helped to construct comes crashing down around their ears. It's probably safer if I stay far, far away...

Hello Auntie!

I have been getting aunt-ed constantly since I have turned thirty. Apparently I was merely an older sister until thirty, but having attained that noble goal, I have become an aunt. It seems I no longer have to wait for Jason and Liz to have kids, as young Japanese consider all woman over thirty aunts. This also works for men, as I have often heard shopkeepers calling older men uncle, and would assume there is a similar age marker for men. However I wonder if it happens at thirty, or do they get an extra five years, in line with the expected and suitable age for marriage?

If You Were My Head, You'd Know Where It Hurts

I have caught my first cold of the winter season and have been suffering from a headache since Friday morning. Not helped by having to get up early Saturday morning after having foolishly agreed to help Kaori at the International Exchange Foundation's "Hello Hokki" combined festival and charity flea market. I was the person in charge of music, which only meant I would press play on the stereo when the performers were ready. Extremely fulfilling.

The day was followed with a far more exciting request for musical supplements when Cian called to request I be one of the Halloween party DJs. I don't imagine I will get much time, as it looks like there are 4 DJs and 6 live performances happening, but at least it will be my music when I get to play it.

I then spent a couple of hours before going to bed listing songs, thinking of songs, playing songs I could use at the party, and now I am at a loss as to which direction to go in: Brit pop, funk, motown, top 40 (style, but not exactly), eighties. I have decided that whomever plays DJ after The Satuday Night Blues Band should definitely lead with "A Little Less Conversation" by Elvis and remixed by JXL.

Whatever, I'll figure it out later, hopefully after I have made my costume. Once again, the bad fairy is to be set loose on the unsuspecting.

Daycare

Next to my house is a large town community centre that offers services like daycare, fitness classes, swimming lessons and other random assorted whatevers. Everyday, walking to work, I pass by the huge windows that surround the daycare centre and see the large Hello Kitty clock hung on one of the pillars. It has the standard pink and white checked frame, as well as the added bonus of a cut-out under the 12 where two Hello Kitty figures stand. Having never been by there on the hour, I am only assuming that they dance or spin or some such when the hour passes, but that is not my favourite part. My favourite part is that it is a senior citizens daycare centre.


Good to see everyone is being treated with the honour and respect they deserve after having reached such a ripe old age. Or, that they have a pretty funky sense of humour, which would make me even happier. Or, there is absolutely no sarcasm at all, and people have reverted to their childhood.

Discord

"Hard Gay" seems to have seeped its way into elementary schools as well... Yesterday, during lunch with one of the 2nd grade classes, I was treated to several impromptu performances of the hard gay "dance" (too generous a description?) and accompanying "Fuuuuuuuuu!" by several 7 year old boys. Aaah, life is good.


The Hard Gay moves! Making its way across the nation, invading schools, libraries and rest homes! And you too can be a hard gay dancer! It's a dream for many, and you can make it happen! Just put on a little leather -- jocks; vests; village people hats and dog collars -- and follow these simple steps!!

1. Stand with your legs fairly wide apart, knees slightly bent.
2. Lean your upper body back a little bit.
3. Straighten your hands, fingers tight together.
4. With you hands moving in synchronicity, make a rapid up and down motion (angled, like a V-shape) moving towards, then away from, your crotch.
5. All the while, make a loud and long shout of "Fuuuuuuuuuu!" (to rhyme with wooooo).

There you have it, now go out there and share the love with random strangers on the streets!

Inspiration Suffers

It feels like I have lost all my inspiration, all desire to carry on writing this thing since I crashed and burned it into little tiny cyber-pieces... I used to have days where I would think to myself, "aw, man, gotta remember to blog this!" but those moments seem to have dissipated entirely. I don't even feel like doing the writing so much anymore; I am really just persisting out of ornery stubbornness. I just don't want to have a blog where nothing new is ever posted, like some friends I know. This doesn't mean I am particularly upset at people who never post, as I figure this means they have a life (whereas I just have time to waste at work) and are too busy enjoying it to write about it. But you see, blaming all this on Corinne and Ted, I have gotten addicted to these things, experiencing palpable disappointment if I check a blog and nothing has been posted in weeks. Hmmm, what's a girl to do?

Mops and Brooms and Buckets and Star-Anise Braised Pork

I have realized why I don'tenjoy cleaning particularly, or why I put it off for so long.

It's because I turn it into an all day project. I don't do any of the half-assed vacuum the floor or clear the table. I move the furnitur and mop behind the fridge, scrub down my shower and clean out the drains, air out my futons and vacuum the tatami... Everything but the windows. 450 square feet of windows are a lot of windows. I did wash the mirrors and my shower doors though!

So I spent all day Saturday cleaning my apartment in preparation for Sunday when Sarah was going to be coming over for dinner and books, CDs, DVDs and conversation. Happy times were had -- an excellent guest as she immediately started helping me clean up. She frowned and made faces at being asked to chopp but seems compulsively enthusiastic about the cleaning. Much better than most guests (except Corinne and Sophie, as they also helped clean up).

Dinner was Chinese, quasi-dim-sum, but with only 3 dishes to choose from, so maybe it doesn't count. Desert was a no-go as we were too stuffed from the stuffed eggplants, the aforementioned pork, and the tofu and mushroom stir-fry. Not to mention the pitchers full of cocktails that accompany every good chef.

I imposed Canadian-ness on Sarah, even getting her to succumb to taking a test to find out if she would qualify (a test that involved questions like:
If you have ever curled, 1 point.
If you were the skip, 10 points.
If you remember where you were when Ben got caught, 1 point.
If you remember what you were doing when Wayne got traded, 1 point.
If you didn't need any last names for those question, 10 points. )

I received in trade season 4 of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, as well as a couple of books, while Sarah walked off with several different TV series, books, and CDs; more media than she knew what to do with.

All in all, mellow and good. Looking forward to the next one.

Little Tiny Things

Today, a travelling play visited the school and I got to chat with some of the actors after who had recently come back from a play and puppet conference in Montreal. They enjoyed it immensely and hope to go back one day. They also look forward to perhaps meeting me in Osaka.

At lunchtime, a 2nd year student was wondering around, looking utterly bereft. He had lost the 10 yen coin he so carefully (well, maybe not so carefully) kept tucked away in the back of his nametag. I offered to help him find it, meeting him outside of the student lobby,　where I quickly spotted the coin. He walked away well satisfied.

During morning reading with a 2nd year class yesterday, where I used my white mouse puppet and their insanity, I met Tomohisa in the hall. He bowed very, very low, and offered gratitude in his best Japanese.

Before my 6th year class at Aimi, I met one of the special needs boys in the hallway, where we proceeded to have a brief conversation about Halloween, he in his very soft-spoken voice, causing me to slow down, just a little.

Bag-a-licious

Eating lunch with one of my 6th grade classes to do, I was informed how often one of the boys, "Mr. Yoshi" according to his classmate, bleeds from his nose. Nearly everytime he gets angry it seems. A girl sitting next to my lunchtime narrator threw in that Mr. Yoshi used an entire roll of toilet paper for his nose in the space of a month. That is a lot of nosebleeds, leading me to query, "and he's not dead yet??"

Utterly unrelated, on my way back to the staffroom, I passed along the hallway where half of the students' bag supplies are kept. In the hallway, there is a bag for PE gear, music, home economics supplies... In the classroom, the bags for art, shuuji, toothbrush and toothpaste and place mat, as well as the standard knapsack, and anything else they may have felt the urge to 持っていく to school that day.

I have been witness to small children stumbling home from school, accidentally stepping on a fallen strap slung over their shoulders and around their neck, crashing unconscious to the curb as the various bags and their weight fly off in different directions, strangling the life out of the poor bastards.

Just cause you don't hear about bag deaths doesn't mean they don't happen.

Weekend Blur

and not necessarily for a good reason. Definitely wasn't a verb like last time. More like a failed experiment with kinetic energy really.

It all started last Monday following a good weekend out. I decided that I wanted to do it again, but this time on the west side with some of my boys, so I sent out the plea. "What r u guys doing friday nite? I want 2 go out, and don't care where (well, not Piman's). And I will probably b drinking, so I may need some floor space unless I can convince Sarah or Diane to come."

The responses were fairly swift in coming, as Cian said, "That can be arranged." And Pete's reply was something along the lines of "shhh! We're planning a surprise party for Cian at the school Friday. I'll let you know." Eventually the surprise party took form, but it was lacking in the surprise element as Cian had figured it out. He even thought I was in on it because of the timing, but alas, I am not that prescient.

So Friday rolls around and Diane and I meet at DoDoDo for a delicious dinner, followed by us making our way to English School festivities, me with a card for Cian in my pocket and a bottle of white wine in hand for myself. We arrive, the party starts, well, at least my own private party did, as I rapidly took to consuming the wine. Nope, no glasses for me. Cian comments, "My mother would say, 'I didn't raise you to drink a whole bottle of wine by yourself.'" To which I retort in my infinite cleverness, "Well, you didn't bring me up to share either." Cian decides to commit that retort to memory for the next time anyone makes a like comment to him.

Pete arrives with a heaping pot of pasta and sauce at about 9:00, when most people have eaten all they are going to, and a nearly entirely empty bottle of merlot in hand. Diane points out the drunken fill line that appears on Pete's forehead; a massive white V spreading acros his head as he makes slightly fuzzy facial expressions.

Sachiko offers Katherine, Diane and I some of Pete's "everything I could find to put in it -- except the wine 'cuz I was too busy drinking and dancing around my apartment while cooking to remember to put it in" spaghetti, and we request only a little. Apparently that jut meant a small plate, not a small portion. We all taste-tested and agreed it was very good, however, we had all eaten and were no longer hungry. So, when my binge-drinker neighbour isn't paying any mind to his already emptied bowl of pasta, I dump it all in and watch when he turns around, wondering where the pasta came from. His oblivious J-girl neighbour on the other side has no idea, and he puzzles over it for a minute before he polishes it all off.

My wine consumed, 10 o'clock having passed, I get ready to message Sarah, who in an act of serendipity calls my mid-type. Dashing outside, I let her know we will be off, probably to arrive in 15 minutes after sayonaras are bid and promises are made to keep phones in reach. A decision is made to head back to DoDoDo, and when we are within 5 minutes of parking at City hall, I phone Sarah to let her know of our impending arrival. Unfortunately I phone the wrong Sara. There are 2 or more in my phone, and the one I was trying to reach was #39, while the one I phoned was #29. Ooops. The details of the conversation are fuzzy, but I was definitely having difficulty with enunciation, never mind other things.

Damn the wine, and me more for chugging it. You can totally see where I am going, can't you?

The right Sarah is reached and we venture off to DoDoDo, where some waitperson in his infinite wisdom puts on the top floor. Restaurants and stairs are fine, but at that time of night, they were going for a bar atmosphere and it is never a good idea to put visibly drunk people at the tops of stairs. Really. Especially when the bathroom is on the ground floor.

I managed to make it through the very large cookies we ordered, as well as remembering to put my phone on the table for Sarah and Diane should Cian call during what I foresaw to be one of my many trips to the washroom. Early on, I did attempt to make it back upstairs every few minutes, which Sarah later commented was very valliant, however I soon gave up, claimed a stall and remained hidden, while they would every onc in a while come in and check on me. When I had settled a wee bit, I moved out to a chair in the washroom, pulled a rug off a table and slept very comfortably.

I was informed Cian had arrived, and replied that was nice, but I didn't think I would be joining in the festivities. Later, after sleep rather than black holes of time, I was reclaimed by my friends as we ventured out into fresh air, while Cian jested and I walked in a mostly straight line. And thus the night ended.

And the hangover the next morning was a Bitch, with a capital B, that I chose to fight in a particularly slothful way, watching season 3 of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer on borrowed DVDs.

Feeling much better now though!

Literacy is Me!

Once Tracy suggested in a letter that she was thinking she might have to start a reader's journal, perhaps not just to keep track of everything she's read, but also opinions and feelings about the work. Well, I thought that was a great idea, and so last week, I started writing books down that I've read.

I suppose the intention is that you write down the books directly after you read them, but once I got started, I just couldn't stop. This doesn't mean I have written down everything I have ever read, as that would be impossible. It also doesn't mean I've written down the airplane books, which are too numerous to count, but it does mean I have written down books I liked, and even in one case a book I distinctly did not like, books that were well enough written for me to remember, if not the author, at least the title or vice versa.

I was looking over the list and I've gotta say, damn, I'm impressed. I have read some very good books. This doesn't even include the 20 or so books that I've started but not yet finished, as there are some classics in the mix there, nor the ones that are waiting beside my bed in a pile. But I really do have some decent taste in books.

I have realized that my previous reading selections are not nearly as varied as I would like, and I am working on that. Half of the cache of books I bought in Nagoya venture into the realms of social science, and history, but I am still lacking in poetry as I lean heavily towards fiction in my tastes. Not really so much on the side of science fiction though. Somehow I can't really meld those. Hmmm. Anyways, back to one of my current selections, called "Left Hand, Right Hand," which is a study of handedness and scientific theories that have existed in the past, leading up to phenomena of the present. Currently in the early going, where he is discussing theories and beliefs surrounding situs inversus, where one's nternal organs are perfectly transversed. Very interesting, I must say...

Lost and Found

I have realized that my accidental deletion of my entire blog means that, if I want to, I can re-write any of my previous posts, or take them in a different direction entirely. This doesn't mean that I have achieved any satisfaction out of having messed it all up!! Not in the least. I don't mind losing some, but I am pretty sure they weren't all bad, and so didn't all deserve to be kicked to the kerb.

So this means I can have another shot at the books, the sex talks, the host mom in a tupperware box, music, driving... and other stuff that I don't remember, but might have otherwise repeated myself. It's a shame I lost my birthday post though.

Bu, it sounds like soon I will have a wedding in the family to discuss and be excited about. Hopefully I will be in the country when it happens...

Oops!

Accidentally deleted my entire blog, and I have no idea how to get it back. I was able to copy the last page of posts into Word, so I can cut and paste them back in, but it's gone, really truly gone. 5 months worth of posts and activities and happenings and memories toasted. Fuck fuck fuck. Right, try again. Here goes!

Fall is in the Air

Friday was the autumnal equinox holiday here, and friends and I made good use of it by devouring fine cuisine at Viva Shiva before heading off to Headspin in fair Tottori. We danced and didn't, as technical difficulties were experienced with a multitude of mixers. We hung out on the patio, enjoying the cool temperatures, chatting with old friends rarely seen at Headspin, chatting with new ones never before met, and chatting up tall surfers. All in all a beautiful way to start the season.

Night temperatures have fallen recently -- so much so that last night, I wore a sweatshirt indoors for the first time since spring sprang. Although, driving to Yonago to return videos a day late and a few dollars short, I discovered temperatures in fair Saihaku were 5 degrees below that of a more temperate Yonago. Already getting ready for winter, it seems.

Sunday was spent walking, cleaning, video watching, laundry doing and in other untaxing affairs.

Updates in the city -- Cian is now a brown belt; after intense training for the past month he can once again relax and partake in the occasional alco-bevvie. Corinne's apartment is no more. Well, it is still standing, although I sometimes queried how, but it is no longer to be inhabited by denizens of the JET community as the roach infestation grew to be too much for the new Hochu ALT to handle.

Wishing, and Hoping, and Dusty is Calling

Reading several books right now, wishing I were in them, that I had more time to read more of them, that I could read them faster and still take them in thoroughly. It would probably help if I didn't read 4 or 5 books concurrently, but it all depends on my mood.

Wishing I were asleep right now, and that I had no plans tonight.Music -- could totally use some music right now. Right now. Right now. If I say it again, will it come? If I play it will it come? If I keep ripping off cheesy overused lines from movies and songs will anybody care?

If I were in Canada right now, I would be poor.

If only I could sing, and sing well, instead of the volume and enthusiasm I prefer to substitute for the lack of skill.

I need to practice drumming. Would love to ship them home and carry on annoying neighbours.

I want to study more Japanese, especially the kanji. I have so many study books, but lately I have not been too inclined to crack them. It could be due to the huge pile of clean laundry I have accumulated on my desk and kitchen table.

Wishing I had a maid -- not one that would get into all my scary corners and hiding places, but one hat would do things like put away my laundry, make my bed, sweep, do dishes and vacuum. I guess that is all kind of the same thing as scary places. Maybe I need to win the lotto or marry a wealthy sexpot who would keep me in clean clothes and sheets.

I keep hoping a club will open up somewhere in Yonago. Dancing is one of the few reasons I like going out, and the occasions are few and far between. Not a huge fan of little, smoky bars where everyone is crowded in along a bar and can't really talk to anyone other than the person beside them because the bad music is playing too loud.

Highways in Japan need to raise their speed limits. Especially on the toll roads. I really can't abide paying to use a highway and then being told I can't travel faster than 80 kilometres an hour. There is something inherently wrong in that.

Short Week, Few Posts

This is one of those fabulous times in Japan when the work week becomes a mere three days, due to marvelous timing of national holidays.

Yesterday was spent with three ALTs in the school who came to watch my classes and walk away impressed and intimidated by my teaching splendour. (I wonder how many synonyms for great I can throw in here?) Classes went all right, kids were normal -- same as always, 4-2 was slightly out of hand. Now people have these horribly high standards that I am expected to live up to.

I feel the urge to just randomly disgorge? spew? regurgitate? (why is there no word for that that can be considered even remotely appealing?) anything and everything.

Last night I went grocery and CD shopping. Isn't the link between the two events screamingly obvious? For music, I picked up Massive Attack, Indian curry music, and Tracy Chapman. For food, the intent was to purchase sun-dried tomatoes, but I changed my mind after I arrived and bought 3 eggs, fresh vegetables, sandwich meat, and salad dressing. The potential for healthy eating exists, but...

One of the three ALTs that visited yesterday scared me a little, as she was very loud. She doesn't even have the excuse of American-ness to fall back on. Although perhaps I have been here too long and have adjusted to the lowered speaking voices, thus finding her natural speaking register harsh and grating. The other two ALTs that came have been here for a while, and weren't nearly as loud, although on Steve's part, that could be due to his lower, basser voice. (Can you say basser, is that even a word? Or have I made it up? Maybe it's just spelled wrong.)

Jazz Inn is in the cards tonight. I have been randomly inviting whomever, so it could be quite a mix. Had to warn Diane when I went over Tuesday for dinner and recording of listening tests that I had involved her in a low, so should the other party show up, she will be aware. It wasn't even a horrible lie, it was just a desperate attempt to escape a group party at Aimi tiny shogakkou on Sunday following the sports day festivities. I claimed to be going to their house for dinner, which was off by a couple of days, but not a total lie. And as I have invited the lied-to party as well, I need to be careful.

Elly wanted to meet up with me in Yonago for dinner tonight -- the original plan was that it would be last week, but that changed. I decined, choosing instead to meet after for the jazz bar, as I have been intending to go to Viva Shiva and Headspin Friday for a couple of weeks, and knowing that Elly is allowing me to stay over Friday night, it means I shall also be buyingbreakfast/lunch on Saturday morning as Elly's house rarely seems to have food. 3 days in a row is a little too much, especially as I have a fridge and freezer full of groceries and yummy meals.

Wasting too much time right now, but I mostly have Monday's classes all planned. Tuesday is still up in the air, but that is what Monday is for, isn't it.

Must clean my disaster zone tonight before Elly comes around. Everything is just scattered everywhere. But was too tired last night to care. In bed by 10:30 yesterday. Gonna have to warn Elly I will be sleeping in tomorrow morning, perhaps I will put her in a separate room.

Off to go and find my supplies for my classes today. Hopefully I will find the energy too.

All in Good Sport

Sporting fun? I once saw on another blog the phrase, "Weekend is a verb." And this weekend kind of was.

After getting yogic and bendy and sarcastic with evil Ted and nice Diane on Friday night, I returned home to watch some of the latest mystery video sent by my loving madre. I have since decided that Ted's current yoga studio would be an absolutely brilliant place to have a party, if onlythe neighbors's homes didn't butt right up against the building.

Saturday was not much to speak of, however one or 2 double entendre skymails made their dirty way out into the world from the tips of my slightly liquored up fingers.

Sunday, feeling bored and footloose, I contacted some J friends I've not seen in ages just to say hi, and ended up going to watch their niece and nephew's sports day, at a school that only has 18 students, so audience participation is highly encouraged. They even go so far as to bribe you with such treasures as bleach, memo pads, felt markers, little tarps perfect for hanami drunkenness... I do believe I may have caused myself undue physical harm in the tug of war -- personally, I would like to blame it on my sandals. The inappropriate footwear could have been remedied had I been aware how participatory the event was to be.

My quick thinking and even quicker lying got me out of a potential J assault in the gym following the sports day, as I claimed to have to go to a friends for dinner (Diane, I am so sorry to have dragged you into a lie, but I just couldn't handle it. And it was just a lie about the date really, as I am coming for dinner tonight!)

The weather started to get humid again on Sunday night, and I came back drowning in sweat after a one hour stroll about town. It carried on through Monday and is still cloying today. Monday, in an attempt to escape the buggy humidity, Pete, Cian and I fled to the mountain for a little pitch and putt, where the course was so short, it was really leaning towards long putting.

I lost the pitch and putt game most miserably, as my putting is really not good. Pete and Cian tied -- well, mostly Pete lost the lead as he hit a ball over the green and down the hill, and it then took 6 strokes to recover from it. In an effort to break the tie, we went over to the putting green for nine holes of putting, where Pete's strong putting from the game before took a little loss of confidence, thus losing to Cian by 1 stroke. I wasn't even in the game really.

Due to this humiliating loss, Pete demanded that we follow all up with Bowling, determined as he was not to lose to Cian, and knowing that Cian isn't particularly strong at bowling. Sadly, Pete did not prevail there either -- I did. Kicked their asses right good too. Hahahahaha....All in all, an excellent weekend, and it remains to be seen if next weekend can surpass this, although I have secret reasons to believe it can...

Fall Head Cleaning

Do you ever have those moments when it feels like you have all of a sudden left all that crap that was crowding your mind behind you? Your weird hang-ups and obsessions? Your penchant for self-deprecation and an inability to take a compliment? Your undeserved lack of confidence? All that weird stuff that crowds into your mind and stops you from doing the stuff you desperately want to do?

It's been weird, but it feels like I have done that. I don't know if it was the whole birthday thing, but I don't think so. I feel like the timing was coincidental. I think it is because I managed to say some stuff, get some stuff out there that I had crammed into corners of my minds that were stopping some of the fabulous stuff behind them from escaping into the light. And I want to kick myself. What the hell was wrong with me that I didn't get to this point sooner? There's a distinct lack of self-consciousness and shame that I don't miss kowtowing to, and it is gorgeous. I would like to say, "I'm back!" but I don't think I was here before. I would love to say it is permanent, but that is gonna take some work.

I am, however, looking forward to the next couple of weeks and all the stuff I want to do. You should see the slow grin spreading wider as I type this. You just know there's gonna be trouble...

What I will Miss

The kids that all want to sit with me at lunch, fight over the possibility of my presence at their lunch tables.

My spacious, "posh for anywhere in the world," Japanese-style apartment.

Enkais with the staff at Saihaku shogakko. Fun and weird and drunken revelry was not the same at Yodoe. Even during the day, talking to people on the phone they ask, "Is there a party going on over there?" during lunch break in the staff room.

Planning lessons for enthusiastic kids that are excited to have me in the classroom, even if I do get annoyed when they won't listen.

Being able to walk down a street, country road, over a mountain, through a mall and come across little displays of devotion and faith scattered just close enough together that you never forget, but far enough apart that you never feel overwhelmed.

Centuries old history at the fingertips, representing a culture long-established and not all that changed when it comes down to the very heart of it.

Heated toilet seats and other seemingly unimportant and unnecessary applications of technology.

My kei car, the little blue standard transmission road demon, even if it does have a useless excuse for a trunk.

My paycheque. Pragmatism and practicality will always have a strong hold on my head.

Using and learning and growing in another language.

Being a different person from who people at home expect me to be.

Challenging people to think about the world around them, merely by existing in their presence, by speaking another language...

Omnipresent bicycles.

Trains.

Rice fields and all the thousand shades of green I never realized could exist.

Festivals to celebrate the ephemeral nature of things.

Trading books with friends and getting to glimpse inside their minds, see how they think.

Children who are still children because they live in the countryside and only get 4 channels on TV.

Vacations and long weekends that seem to be nearly constant, causing me to wonder when I will really start working.

Things are Changin' in the Sticks

Favourite people have left, or are leaving, or are changing drastically in ways I wasn't necessarily ready for. New people are showing up and bitching about the olds, showing their age and unreadiness and lack of confidence to everyone about. I am having a hard time caring. The girl who wouldn't shut up during my seminar yesterday, despite it being as much for her benefit as for everyone else, severely tried my patience. How many times I held my tongue, even when she was merely ranting in the midst of someone else's seminar, cannot be counted. Fortunately, not everyone is like here, but I hear we have our own versio down in the 'Nog who spends as much time complaining about her olds as the girly-girl yesterday, but who also likes to spice it up with cries for mommy dearest to swoop in and take care of. The boys, I don't know about yet, but there are loads of them. Of the 3 or 4 who I have spoken to so far, they seem alright, but perhaps they are just wiser about keeping their mouth shut in public.

I may be getting bitchy this year, as my patience seems to wear a little thinner every year. I have noticed how when you are out in the sticks in a foreign country like this, you often end up being friends with people you would never be friends with at home, merely because they are all that is around, and if I am not careful I will lose even those as I start pointing out stupidities in a cruel and acerbic manner.

Too old for this shit. Seriously.

Gaussian Curves

In the 1800's, apparently it was believed that the ideal man (being the 1800's, the focus was always on men, by men) was average. Statistics was a recently devloped course of study and graphs would be made up charting everything, from the average size of peas, to how many times people blew their nose, to the average amount someone was willing to spend on a blowjob. And they also accumulated information on the more basic stuff of life, such as height, weight, age, income, intelligence, hair colour, eye colour, eyebrow length and so on.

When charting these results, they found the results were nearly always plotted in a symmetrical curve, like a "u" that has been turned upside down, with the open ends splaying out towards the edges to hold themselves in place. The center, the highest point, represented the greatest accumulation of results, while the legs reaching up to that point tapered inwards as they approached the center.

This curve pattern, also called the error curve, was originally come upon by astronomists who were attempting to chart courses of the stars and other such useless but interesting information, as they realized that the greater number of samples they had, the fewer the errors, and that it was always on the edges of those samples where the greatest errors (but fewest in number) occurred.

This was all very confusing to me to read in a book which delves into quasi-scientific language, but I swear, I understood it. Least errors -- highest point of the graph. Essentially these astronomist fellows were merely charting the rate of errors. Okay. So, I am following all this so far, although my retelling may be decidedly lacking in coherence. And in the next logical step, this error curve was found to be reflected in statistical information collected about mankind (although most likely it reflects only western European society) and it came to be viewed, even by Darwin, that in order to be ideal, one must be average. The most mundane person would also be the most perfect according to these blinkered statisticians.

I will allow that at the time, statistics was a very new mathematic and quasi-scientific course of study, but really, having lived in one of those places where the average man is omni-present for the better part of 4 years, I can't even begin to grasp how this is a good thing. Sure, if you're going to venture into the arguments that government should be dissolved and man free to rule himself, then I can kind of go with it, as the average man wouldn't really think to himself that he wants more, which should mean anarchy and rebellion will not follow, but really? That Darwin would see the epitome of the species as the average Joe down the street?

It scares me as I start to wonder about exactly whose average they were expecting everyone to fit into, because there are some people I have met, even recently in the newest batch of teachers to arrive (straight out of the oven, made of poppin' fresh dough!) with whom I would desperately wish never to have to sink (my greatest fear would be having to rise to the level of them, good god, that the obsessively whining and self-centered rude girl I met yesterday could form any kind of ideal caused me nightmares last night. Shudder!) to the level of...Right, the train of thought I was carefully attempting to follow has met with another in an unfortunate accident and everything inside my mind has been all shot to hell. I give up, this isn't going anyhere right now.

Typhoon Nabi

Or, as the ever creative meteorological department here in Nippon likes to call it, Typhoon no. 14. Well, at least they aren't blaming it all on the women...

DATELINE: Monday, September 5, 2:37pm...

Emergency meeting to discuss the possibility of cancelling school entirely Tuesday, or at least for a half day. Maps and meterological charts are photocopied and handed out, however colour maps have never translated well into black and white photocopies, thus causing me to lose out on some of the sense of urgency. This meeting follows a day where the principal and vice-principal have been disappearing down the hall to watch TV news weather reports... or are they??? A half day is decided upon after much angst amongst the teachers about the severe shortening of sports day practice time. CAN IT BE DONE IN ONLY 2 DAYS!?! I ditch out as early as possible, deciding the rain is not conducive to work.

DATELINE: Tuesday, September 6, 8:26am...

Emergency meeting to annouce that school will be closed on Wednesday, however teachers are still expected to come. The fear is palpable as sports day organizers start to sweat, teachers haggling over practice times and locations. Lists are handed out of which teachers will be expected to drive students home at the end of the day, due to the late bus times and short notice to have them rearranged as needed. 9:51am Kato-san from the BOE calls to leave me an urgent message to remove the bamboo screen hanging on the outside of my windows,a s well as to take down my laundry pole on the back porch. 12:17pm I return home for lunch and a frantic 20 minutes removing screens and laundry poles and hiding anything that might possibly fly into my 30 feet of windows and break something. 12:53pm Return to school and spend the afternoon preparing for next Tuesday's newbies seminar on elementary school English activities. Also make sure to remove anything valuable or made of paper that hapens to rest under the windows, as they ALL LEAK. Especially in typhoons. And move stuff away from the exterior door, which also leaks. Quality construction, through and through.

DATELINE: Tuesday, September 6, 4:00pm...

Despite everyone being in the building all day, we are forced to wait until 4:00 for another meeting. Very little that I paid attention to is discussed, other than the principal and vice principal telling everyone to please leave early. I return home after hunting down the vice-principal in order to ask for Wednesday off. Only to leave in search of some videos to occupy my time during the typhoon. Around 7:30pm the wind starts to kick in. 8:34pm Still windy and raining. 9:52pm Rain, wind. 10:23pm Wind, rain. 11:46pm Rain, wind. What more do you want from me? 12:05pm Sleep.

DATELINE: Wednesday, September 6, 1:34am...

Still windy. Still rainy.

DATELINE: Wednesday, September 6, 4:22am...

More rain, more wind.

DATELINE: Wednesday, September 6, 7:56am...

More wind, little rain

DATELINE: Wednesday, September 6, 8:55am...

Wind, no rain, and for this, school is canceled. Not that I mind, I slept in. Then I read books, played the drums, baked brownies, watched a video or two, made tzatziki dip, cooked fajitas, went jogging, and read some more. All in all, a very decent typhoon day. Today, upon returning home, I plan to rehang my bamboo screens to keep out this blazing sun.

Killing Time

It is over 30 degrees outside and the kids are practicing for sports day -- dancing, running, gymnastics, marching band. It's all I can do not to melt.

More wasted time spent at my desk, although I was 20 minutes or so late for work today, having slept through my alarm. Not that I have many classes to prepare for. I will have one tomorrow, and perhaps one or two next week, but primarily I will be getting ready for my seminar on elementary school activities for the new JHS ALTs on the 13th. Right after sports day. Brilliantly timed if I may say so.

Trying to practice reading Japanese. Finding some interesting websites for kanji, as well as ordering a book this morning by a man who creates stories to accompany every kanji. His system is not designed to help you with the readings, but only with the meanings. I am thinking that maybe because I have some vocab I will be able to put together words I know with meanings I understand of things I read, and maybe get somewhere that way. I have a couple of books (novels) I have picked up in Japanese and would like to get through.

Finished reading Norwegian Wood last night when I probably should have been sleeping. Lights were off by 11:30, but I didn't fall asleep until much later, and awoke at 3 or so for no apparent reason.

Sent a somewhat provocative email to a friend last night -- I always feel much bolder and confident at night. Fully expect to get another shocked reply from him this afternoon.

Think I will take my Japanese books and venture over to my classroom. Ideally, I would like to sleep on the floor, but I suspect I would be spotted. I'll play some of the musc I brought and maybe read the airplane novel I shoved in my bag in an attempt to maintain consciousness. It's a good thing there is no staff meeting today. I don't think I would survive.

Got a bag of nashi from my car guy yesterday. He drove all the way out from Yodoe to bring me my car insurance papers and the pears. Turns out my insurance has gone down again -- some kind of safe driving discount I suppose. It's a good thing that it only counts accidents, not tickets. As it stands, I will be paying 2,200 yen a month, or about 25 or 26 dollars. Insurance is cheap here, although it could be just like home, where it is cheap in rural areas.

So, What Are You Reading?

A couple of months ago, my cousin posted a list of books he thinks are great, and left it up to readers to add their own. Ted is always listing what is currently on his nighttable. Tracy suggested once in a letter that she thinks she should start a book journal of some kind. On the Bondi Books blog, the writer has a list of what he is currently reading as well as what he has read up until this point (I'm assuming it's a he, but who knows).

So, what are you reading? What am I reading? What have I read?

Jose Saramago's "Stone Raft"
Haruki Murakami's "Norwegian Wood"
Jon McGregor's "If no one speaks of remarkable things"
Jon Krakauer "Under the Banner of Heaven"
Natsuo Kirinho's "Out"
Haruki Murakami's "Sputnik Sweetheart"
J.K. Rowling "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince"
Michael J. Rosen ed. "The Mirth of a Nation"
Cervantes' "Don Quixote"
Aldous Huxley's "Collected Short Stories"
Yukio Mishima's "Thirst for Love"
Haruki Murakami's "South of the Border, West of the Sun"
Margaret Atwood's "Murder in the Dark," "Good Bones," "The Robber Bride," "Oryx and Crake"
And of course, all the crap books designed for airplanes and beaches and distractions from studying and working, such as Dan Brown and Candace Bushnell...

There's loads more, but my mind is failing me right now.

While searching for the names of author's or the titles of books I can't recall, I have become thoroughly distracted by the huge numbers of books out there I will never even hear about, and started writing a tiny little list -- soon to become a very big one, I am sure -- of things to search for.

3 Decades

Back from Okazaki, having completed a Japanese course that ended up being primarily review, disappointing but useful I suppose. Certainly I am more likely to impress the principal and vice principal with my new found grasp of polite Japanese when begging for favours.

Seized a chance to visit both Corinne and Berto in Gunma, arriving after 10 hours on the road in the middle of a torrential downpour that was so bad I couldn't see out the window no matter how fast my windshield wipers wiped. Fortunately, I didn't get lost on the way there. I arrived to find Eric showing two J girls his artwork, whilst Ryan attempted to work his magic on one and Dago on the other. Corinne and I just hung out and laughed a bit while I worked on my wine. There was a little music and dancing, departing of said J girls while we hung out on the "verandah." Around four, I gave up and sprawled onto my futon while Eric tried to convince a drunken Berto that I deserved to sleep, and it wouldn't hurt to turn down the music that was blaring not far from my head. Thanks to Eric's kind consideration, it finally happened, and the three, without cover of music to carry on the night, disappeared to search for the sunset, not returning until after eight.

Eric tried to sleep upon return, as he was to experience his first ever J girl date later in the afternoon, while Ryan continued to slumber and Berto and Corinne hung out in the kitchen with chu-hi, egg sandos, and Lila Downs, waiting for me who had been on the porch with "If no one speaks of remarkable things."Saving them from fighting over the last chu-hi, I savoured slowly with a children's book and tried to recognize Tears for Fears on the stereo. The day devolved into lazing and leisure as the boys all disappeared on dates with girls or friends. Corinne and I ventured off to a park to play on a giant slide with rollers that flung you around corners or knocked you on your ass as you tried to go down in a crouch. This was followed by adventures on a giant rope spider web, which made me think of the squares in the middle of giant clusters of bubbles. Corinne made it bounce and I tried not to fall off, and we were both put to shame by a small boy and his mother who climbed all the way to the peak.

After deciding to return later when drunk and checking to make sure our noise wouldn't wake neighbours, we returned to sit on chairs in the yard and spend our last afternoon together in Nippon in conversation. As the boys slowly made their way home, bringing other boys and unfortunate dating stories, we ventured drunkenly back to the park with Hiroshi while Berto attempted to catch up on sleep. Me being the eager fool I was went down the slide first and dried most of it off for the wiser companions of mine. We even climbed the spiderweb, but Corinne and Hiroshi were more fearless, ascending to the top as I came to look I was like in a real spiderweb near the bottom, causing Corinne to nearly fall off laughing at the sight of me swatting away in the midst of a massive rope web. We even followed this up with rides on a rope roller hanging thing that I don't know what to call before meandering back to the Lopez hotel for the rest of the night.

Come midnight, birthday choruses were sung and Berto awoken from his slumber as the Japanese fellow gave into his tiredness, collapsing into one of the gypsy tents out back. Once again, I succumbed to sleep around three or four, as did Berto, as Corinne and Eric munched on bagels and carried on into the wee hours.

Sunday morning I arose around eight and after a shower to refresh, was on the road for an unfortunate thriteen hours as I somehow got lost in the outskirts of Tokyo, a place I was never supposed to come near.

The ride back from Aichi to the inaka of Tottori was accomplished in my stuffed to the roof little car (I bought 20 or so books on two separate trips to Nagoya solely for that purpose) and a very squished Simona as she rode in the passenger seat with her knees around her ears. Unlike on the way to Aichi, I managed to make the return trip without earning a ticket of some kind. (I now have 4 tickets for 4 different offences in 4 different kens.) Simona, although somewhat socially inept, proved to be an alright passenger. And it is only my own social deficiencies that allowed me to recognize the same qualities in others.

Having been back for a week (and used my fancy new polite Japanese to request last week off, although I honestly had the requesting vacation politeness down pat before the course) I have managed to meet the two new Nambu JETs and cook for them, visit Elly in Tottori for card games and discussions about Japan and childbirth as two quasi-unrelated topics, cook lasagna for Cian and Pete followed by more card games, meet Katherine for lunch, and meet several new JETs at a barbeque last night.

Now, sitting at work wasting time writing blogs, thinking about how it would be kind of nice to be home already.... and I could really use another week off.

Babelian Towers

I have been in Okazaki for 2 weeks now and had my first test today... Find out tomorrow what the results will be.

Despite the fact we are all here to study Japanese, except for a few European teenagers who were forced to attend by uncaring and cruel parents, we all speak English outside of class. Taiwanese students, French students, Spanish students, Portuguese students, Brazilian students, Chinese students, Swedish students, Austrian students, Slovakian students, and of course the Canadian, American and British students. And I can't help being impressed with these people who speak their own language, my language, and are now learning Japanese. I am also disappointed by how easily we all fall into the English trap, and feel ashamed when I do it too.

One of the students made his farewell speech today -- in Japanese naturally -- and at one point in the middle, he made a small stumble and said "sorry," but he wasn't even a native English speaker, making me laugh because he used sorry.

I have decided to attempt to read a book in Japanese. Rather than choosing a Japanese author, as I have read plenty of Japanese books translated into English, I am battling my way through Bridget Jones' Diary, The Edge of Reason. With my kanji dictionary and electronic dictionary close at hand, I get no further than 2 or 3 pages at a time, which makes my ambition wane, although I have been trying to prepare for a test, so I would like to point to that as my reason for falling slack. I have also been trying to read a "Film Comic" of Howl's Moving Castle, which Studio Ghibli released last year. It is much easier going, not only because there are pictures, but also because the kanji all have little tiny furigana beside them, so when I am lost for a reading, I don't have to spend 2 or 3 minutes searching for it.

Vanity Fair

I grew up in the Catholic school system and learned from an early age that vanity is a sin, but I wondered when you cross the line from vanity to pride? What makes one so different from the other? I would assume the Catholic Church isn't trying to raise and create a nest of unconfident devotees, or else where would they find the courage to believe in the church as right? You can't have confidence in what you believe if you don't believe in yourself, which should require confidence and some level of pride in self. Although maybe the key to faith is the blind believing without anything to back it up and that's what makes the church work.

This is too incoherent for me to continue, so off to new frontiers.

I firmly believe that if you want to be an artist of some kind you have to be confident and proud of yourself and what you can do. You have to be willing to shove your work in other people's faces and say, "look at this, this is good, I am skilled." Their opinions can matter and help but you can't let them detract from your own belief that you are skilled at what you do and should carry on regardless of people's praises and criticisms.

As of next week Thursday, I am studying Japanese at a school in Aichi ken. I hear tell that because Aichi is in a valley it is unbearably hot in the summer, as the hot air falls into the valley and seems too languid to climb its way out. My goal for Japanese seems to be very fluid, venturing from my lofty ambitions of perhaps studying for and taking the level 2 Japanese test -- ideally passing -- to merely having conversations without my throwing in "what's that mean?" or "you know, it's kind of like this, what do you call that?" and leaving my fellow co-workers impressed rather than befuddled and head-scratching. Ambition is good. But is it that far from selfishness? Catholic school is a wonderful place to get a secular education but I fear it can leave your head in a state you will spend years muddling your way out of.

After the Foot

I found out last weekend that the Japanese word for footprint, 足跡, literally means "after the foot". Or drop the "the" and it is "after foot". I think it leaves a different residual image in the mind from hearing "footprint".

At eikaiwa class last night, a friend mentioned she would be going back to the UK for ten days, having been there for a year or so when she was a student. I asked her if she learned any good curses while she was there the first time, as another friend I know came back swearing like a sailor. Unfortunately Kaori missed out, as most of the friends she made were other foreign exchange students, rather than resident Brits.

This led to a conversation where I inquired as to the existence of really good curses in Japanese, and was informed that there is a definite dearth, that they are not used the same way or don't mean the same thing in Japanese. There are many things you can say that have a strong meaning and can be offensive, but often it is as much the tone of voice you use as it is the word.

I hypothesized that a culture that has curse words, especially an abundance of them, is probably more likely to be a direct or aggressive culture, whereas a culture without might be more passive or subtle in their methods of communication. Hara san said this may be so,　as when she was young, she was often told that if she was angry, she should wait an hour to address the situation, so as to be in a better frame of mind. She regrets her lack of aggression, but I would posit a middle ground between the two would be a better state.

Meetings Anonymous

So I am stuck in yet another staff meeting. The windows are wide open but the air isn't moving, and I would guess it is about 32 degrees outside, nevermind the indoors. I am doing my best not to let my head crash onto the table in front of me, and to stop the drool from escaping my half-open mouth -- such is the stupor I am in danger of succumbing to. There are thirty other teachers in the room and I don't know how they do it. I can't decide if it is any help to actually understand what is being said around me, but I am certain a lack of relevancy is not helping my nearly lost cause.

I keep dreaming about the big chunk of watermelon in the fridge, waiting for me until this meeting is done. If someone's stolen it already I may get a little postal as that is all that has got me conscious right now.

Apparently today's goal is to finish the meeting by 4:30, which is usually nothing more than a pipe dream, however the teacher in charge of today's meeting is blasting through everything, suggesting frequently that, "you can make any suggestions directly to the person involved later." It's 4:19 right now, and I think he could be on track to do it. The only wild cards are the principal and vice principal , either of whom might be cruelly and unnecessarily move by a sadistic spirit of oratory.

Ishida sensei's eyes darted another sideways glance at the clock right now, which is harder than it sounds as he is seated directly facing it. 4:23. Kamisaka sensei seems to be doing his best to blow through his part in time and the goal seems to be within reach. I have given up on all pretense of paying attention and trying to follow; I am flat out watching the clock, being made dizzy with excitement as I watch the second hand wind it's way around.

We have ventured into the "does anyone have anything else to add to the meeting who wasn't sorted enough to get it on the itinerary on time?" 4:26. The wheels are so close to coming of the wagon as a third and fourth person raise their hands, although at least one is doing his best to keep us on pace as he speaks rapid-fire about events I will not be present for. 4:28. The vice principal jumps in, delaying Mihara sensei and giving Seno sensei an opportunity to gather her wits and request time too. 4:30'42.It is now time for the final closing words from the principal. He has a tendency towards verbal diarrhea, which is unfortunate (or perhaps not) as he rarely speaks loud enough for everyone to hear. 4:31'15 and the school chimes ring to mark 4:30, suggesting that at least one clock somewhere is not quite accurate.

Nicely done, just under the wire, and premature applause bursts forth as we go straight into another meeting. It was so close, and my mouth is watering for that red slab of juicy, sticky watermelon...

Premature...

It seems I was being rather hasty when I commented on the lack of a rainy season this year, as the past few days seem set to make up for it with a vengeance. It has been raining since Friday, varying from subtle mists to light drizzles to out and out torrential downpours. And all this on the beach party weekend.

Fortunately, this year Steve was covered for the weather in a multitude of ways, as he had a vast dancefloor covered with sports festival tents, keeping the party alive despite the dampening of it all. And as I slept in my car this year -- very cozy, but also very dry -- the rain didn't have the chance to drown me in my tent.

As I was driving up to Aoya for the party, I saw a couple of houses where the infamous purple polyester sweat pants appeared to be nesting and slowly multiplying in the rain. The preponderance of fuschia-bright polyester attire for men is one of those things I doubt I will see elsewhere in the world. Even various gas stations have found a way to incorporate the fire retardant wonders into their employee uniforms, making the employees even more excited about going to work, I am sure.

Cian celebrated his 28th birthday on Friday with a rousing party at English School -- his place of business. He uses it for parties as it is in the middle of a field, surrounded primarily by businesses, and also as it is far more spacious than his one room apartment. Karaoke was provided by the guests, with the tunes and torturous tones blasting from the front of a device that reminded me of Rosie the Robot on the Jetsons. Apparently some of the disant neighbours found the singing a little too torturous for their delicate eardrums and phoned to complain about the erstwhile noise. I don't think it was such a bad thing to turn the volume down a tad, as not all of us are musically gifted.

The Sheer Physicality of it All

Yesterday, I had my first ever physical, and as always with something I am not looking forward to doing, I worked myself up into a fine state before going. However it was not nearly as horrible as I had been led to believe by Rie, who had filled my mind with horror stories of what her physical entailed -- mainly the gynecological exam.

When she went last Friday, she was led into a room by a nurse, who asked her to please step into the small changing room, remove her trousers and undewear, and then step through to the next room and sit in the chair. She did so and climbed into the dentist chair, ever so unsuspecting.

After she sat down, a nurse or doctor called to her and asked her if she was seated yet, to which Rie replied she was. At that, the chair began to turn around, all the while spreading Rie's legs apart. When the chair stopped, she found her body was cut in half by a curtain, unable to see what was happening or who was there on the far side of the drape, and the doctors only able to see naked Rie from the waist down. At this, the doctors began the standard gynecological exam, inserting and prying with a variety of cold metal instruments. As it was her first experience, she was made very uncomfortable by the whole process. All the while, she hears pens scratching on the far side.

Having heard this telling, I myself was terrified by the prospect of having to endure a gynecological exam by a doctor from my tiny little town who was not my doctor. Nor were matters helped any when Rie said that as of this year, it was a mandatory part of the physical for all women who would be celebrating an even-numbered birthday between the ages of twenty and thirty. Shortly after discovering this, I talked to Corinne, who mentioned a nurse who happened to comment on how her vital organs were a different size from Japanese people's. As you can see, I was very excited about the whole prospect of a physical.

I attempted to get out of it, and was informed that I was not allowed to decline. I suspect the woman I asked was misinformed, as I declined on a yearly basis when I was in Yodoe. Thus, with much trepidation, I went and checked in at the hospital for my first ever physical.

It was off to a rousing start when the nurse attempted to draw blood, sticking the needle in my left arm, but was unsuccessful -- she drew blood, but was disappointed with the amount. Like most people, I am a huge fan of needles, and naturally offered up my right arm as well so that amateur hour might have another go at me. The nurse didn't feel up to the challenge though, and called in the big guns, who happened to be a very determined little woman who appeared form round the corner, like a pinch hitter waiting for her big moment.

She tied off my arm with rubber tubing, wrenching it as tight as she could, before jabbing me in the right arm. She told me it was okay, all done, and when I turned to look, there was a needle hanging out of my arm at an odd angle. This did not impress me in the least and I once again turned my head away. Apparently this woman was very good at her job, as that was the end of my time as a pincushion. If they had asked, or checked, I would have told them I have always had low blood pressure, and all they really needed to do was wait.

But so be it.The physical carried on with a hearing and vision check, as well as a see-how-well-you-can-aim-while-peeing-into-a-paper-cup-over-a-squat-toilet, and a lets-strap-lots-of-wires-and-diodes-to-you-and-see-if-we-can't turn-you-into-our-8-year-old-kid's-science-experiment.

All in all it was not nearly as horrifying as I had feared it could be, and it seems I am actually in pretty good health.