<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292</id><updated>2012-02-16T17:47:02.762+09:00</updated><category term='weather'/><category term='moving'/><category term='cancer'/><category term='illness'/><category term='children'/><category term='stress'/><category term='flotsam'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='parties'/><category term='books'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='music'/><category term='art'/><category term='matrimony'/><category term='drinking'/><category term='safety'/><category term='home'/><category term='sleep'/><category term='admiration'/><category term='food'/><category term='Japan'/><category term='sports'/><category term='internet'/><category term='email'/><category term='procrastination'/><category term='driving'/><category term='health'/><category term='work'/><category term='travelling'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>Circus Freaks in Training</title><subtitle type='html'>Because I want to prove to myself that English really is my native tongue.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>174</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-6339358910082290951</id><published>2010-03-11T16:29:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T16:51:13.310+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cancer'/><title type='text'>Treatment, First Time Around</title><content type='html'>So chemo started.  And we discovered my arteries are hard to find, which meant I had to have a peripherally inserted central catheter inserted into my arm, going to my heart.  I had a small breakdown when this was told to me.  Understandable, I think.  All this crap going on in such a short time, and now you tell me you are going to insert a foreign body so you can hook me up quicker to the drugs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excellent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and get ready for the radiation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But before we do that, we want to double check that you actually have what you have been diagnosed with.  It is so rare and makes no sense whatsoever in someone my age.  So another bronchoscopy.  Because if it is something else, we won't have to radiate your brain, and we would really rather not do that.  I reply that this better be necessary because I really didn't enjoy the bronchoscopy experience the first time around.  Yep, it's necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A second bronchoscopy.  How's your gag reflex?  Pretty strong, I think.  Well, do you gag at the dentist?  No, but I still think.... No worries.  Bronchoscopy away.  Ooops, turns out you do have a pretty strong gag reflex.  Which is what I said, but hey, what do I know?  I'll just go throw up now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Results?  Same as before.  Radiation and chemo.  By the by, radiation is kind of like getting a sunburn.  And it potentially could cause cancer in you any number of years from now.  You will have a higher risk of breast cancer, or potentially some other form of cancer.  So the cure could cause the disease again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chemo is starting to make my hair fall out by now.  But fortunately the nausea and vomiting aren't bad yet.  The radiation?  Takes three weeks.  Not fun, but not as bad as it is for others it seems.  Doesn't hurt too badly, but it does make my cough worse for a while. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third round of chemo comes at the end of March.  I get a week off between the end of radiation and before the return to chemo.  This three day cycle doesn't go nearly as smoothly as the first two did.  I am not able to keep anything down over the weekend, am dehydrating and getting weaker.  The stairs are a challenge.  Tuesday, off to the hospital again where I spend a couple hours getting IV drugs to stop the nausea, as well as saline to rehydrate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like bloody Superman after.  The IV drugs were steroids.  I don't sleep for 2 days, I am so wired.  Fabulous feeling, really!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elly comes right after Easter, and unfortunately, though I had tried to time it otherwise, it is during the last round of chemo.  We spend a couple hours each of the three days playing cards and whatnot.  We do some touring, but I am pretty weak and having fun with nausea -- but not nearly as bad as the time before.  I just don't feel like eating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and it turns out the chemo did completely toast my white blood cells.  Shots are sent home with me.  Seven days worth to try and jumpstart my marrow into producing white blood cells again.  I can't give myself the shots -- it is just too much, so my dad is pressed into service.  Thanks to the supergees, my immunity returns. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hey!  It was over!  I did it.  I made it through, and it was hard, but not as hard as I had thought it would be.  I start recovering some of my strength.  I walk every day.  I volunteer at the BC Children's Hospital foundation once or twice a week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the checkup comes in a month.  The X-ray is clear.  Good news.  But the X-rays were always clear.  I press my radiation oncologist into doing a CT scan before starting the next round of radiation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there is a nubbin left where the tumor was.  Not what one would hope for.  It could be scar tissue, it could be viable tumor, it could be that the radiation is still working on the tumor and that will go away.  The only way to find out is to wait.  But what about the cranial radiation?  We can go ahead with it, or we can wait. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we go ahead with it, and the tumor is still there and viable, then the treatment has no meaning because the cancer could still spread into my brain.  If there is only scar tissue left, then there are no worries. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there nothing else that can be done?  No way to check?  My doctor says she'll present my case to her colleagues and ask if anyone has any suggestions, or is willing to do something outside the ordinary for me.  So now I just have to wait and see what she might come up with.  More waiting.  I am getting very skilled at this waiting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-6339358910082290951?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/6339358910082290951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=6339358910082290951&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/6339358910082290951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/6339358910082290951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2010/03/treatment-first-time-around.html' title='Treatment, First Time Around'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-3525873225072358813</id><published>2010-03-07T05:20:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T05:44:51.333+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cancer'/><title type='text'>Annus Horribilis</title><content type='html'>To quote a friend.  The past year really wasn't the year I intended to have when I started out.  And I chose not to write about it, not to journal it, not to blog it, not to do anything about it at the time.  It was a little too much, too real, too close.  But now I have had time and am thinking I shall -- in dribs and drabs -- write about the year that was.  It seems wrong to completely ignore a time that has completely overthrown my world.  Some will be reflection, some will be merely a retelling of all the crap that made up that year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here goes a little bit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, January 21st, I went to the hospital with my father.  When we went in to see the doctor, there were two nurses in the room with him, which was my first hint something wasn't right.  Up until then, there had only ever been one nurse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor told me I had a small cell carcinoma in my lung.  Cancer.  My first thought was that I have never smoked, that couldn't be right.  The only person in my family who never smoked.  And I am the one with lung cancer.  He explained the course of treatment, and explained that it is pretty much the same anywhere in the world, and that no, it wasn't operable.  That particular piece of information was disturbing, as I had talked to a lung doctor who explained what usually happens with lung cancer, which includes surgery.  I didn't really find out why they don't do surgery until after I was back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I had a choice to make -- stay in Japan and go through treatment while hospitalized, or go back to Canada and do it there.  If I stayed in Japan, my family would have come to help and support me, but the idea of having to take care of them while also having to take care of me was too much.  After a couple of days of thinking and getting things sorted for a return and treatment back in Canada, I decided to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything was just so surreal.  It took me a while to really grasp what was happening.  That I could even have lung cancer.  And I don't think it helps that no one can tell me why or what caused it.  But it seems that the place I chose to make my home was essentially trying to kill me.  Happy days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got back to Canada and started to learn about small cell carcinomas.  I never looked it up on the internet, which a friend did, who then had a breakdown in front of her computer.  I imagine it is a good thing I never looked it up as I suspect the descriptions tend towards the dire.  I know the information I got leant towards the dire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Small cell carcinoma is not the "good" kind of cancer to get.  It is aggressive and spreads rapidly to other parts of the body.  It is usually found (85% of cases) too late to do anything other than pain management.  It starts in the lungs and usually grows rapidly there, and quickly spreads to other parts of your body, even getting into the brain.  The reason it is inoperable is related to its aggression.  Apparently it is known to even spread to the surgeons hands.  Fun stuff.  Generally, it is found in very heavy smokers in their 50s, or older. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been informed many times that my case is unique in so many ways, and I really wish it weren't.  I would so give anything to have been ordinary and normal.  But if I am going to be special, hey, may as well go full throttle! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was lucky in that my tumor grew in the bronchus, rather than the lung proper.  This caused me pain, and eventually a cough which had me going to and from various doctors for months to try and locate the cause.  If it had been in the lung proper, I would never have known until it was too late.  So mine was able to be found early.  My oncologist here said he had never seen it found so early, and so small.  Small mercies I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to be grateful for these little blessings though.  Very hard.  How do you get happy about cancer in any way, shape, or form?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-3525873225072358813?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/3525873225072358813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=3525873225072358813&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/3525873225072358813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/3525873225072358813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2010/03/annus-horribilis.html' title='Annus Horribilis'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-1664018647243491517</id><published>2010-03-04T20:16:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T20:21:23.675+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleep'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>3am</title><content type='html'>And I don't mean the song by Matchbox 20 either.  3am and once again I am going without sleep.  It seems to be more common than not lately.  So many things to think about that even were I to write them down I would have still more to add to the list.  All the niggling little details involved in packing up a life and trying to divest yourself of 8 years worth of belongings.  Who will take what off my hands?  Can I sell it or do I have to write it off and give it away -- which hurts when considering that these are often things I am going to need to repurchase on this left coast.  I need to go back to bed.  I need to let it go -- it will sort itself out eventually.  But that doesn't make it easier to make my mind move on and let go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-1664018647243491517?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/1664018647243491517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=1664018647243491517&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/1664018647243491517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/1664018647243491517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2010/03/3am.html' title='3am'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-1166934722299507011</id><published>2010-02-26T14:46:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T14:49:39.743+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><title type='text'>Last One</title><content type='html'>So tomorrow is the last PCI.  The last treatment necessary in this whole long "annus horribilis," to quote a friend.  And I await with fingers et al crossed in hopes that it holds true.  In the meantime, I have but my twitch and some nausea to deal with.  If that's the worst it works out to be, I shall consider myself lucky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's strange how my definition of lucky has changed in the past 15 months or so.  Stuff is included that never would have been before.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-1166934722299507011?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/1166934722299507011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=1166934722299507011&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/1166934722299507011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/1166934722299507011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2010/02/last-one.html' title='Last One'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-8735016905355907297</id><published>2010-02-25T17:09:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T17:13:46.736+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weather'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Japan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home'/><title type='text'>Return</title><content type='html'>A return to Japan, a return to real life, a return to health.  This year will hopefully be all about returning to the good side of life, and heading off in new, challenging, and potentially exciting directions.  And as such, it seems appropriate to resurrect my blog.  And so here it is.  My beginning anew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems only appropriate that as of late the weather in Vancouver has been spring-like.  Flowers are blooming left, right and centre.  It has been (mostly) sunny and reasonably warm.  It is practically hanami time out here.  And it is getting to be my time for getting out and doing things again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll take it slow.  Let's wait and see how it goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-8735016905355907297?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/8735016905355907297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=8735016905355907297&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/8735016905355907297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/8735016905355907297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2010/02/return.html' title='Return'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-4851991363879030934</id><published>2008-11-29T08:56:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T08:58:57.695+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stress'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>The Body Knows</title><content type='html'>At least, I think it seems to before I do.  Generally, I don't think of someone who gets stressed about things, but lately, I think my body has decided to take me to task over the matter and inform me in no uncertain terms that I am so very wrong.   Various health issues that all seemed to hit me at the same time suggest that perhaps I am stressing myself more than I know, and maybe I need to do something about it.  But really, who wants to quit doing things?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-4851991363879030934?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/4851991363879030934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=4851991363879030934&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/4851991363879030934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/4851991363879030934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2008/11/body-knows.html' title='The Body Knows'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-8644892134823669222</id><published>2008-11-23T14:19:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T14:22:05.059+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Japan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Japanese Mysteries</title><content type='html'>On my way home from a kotatsu delivery yesterday, traffice slowed to an inexplicable pace nearing the high school.  Slowly, we inched up the hill, all the while wondering what was going on?  Must be a car accident with looky-loos unable to control themselves.  Inching further forward, and no sign of flashing lights.  Still wondering, still inching... And then, there it is.  Hakusai!! (for those not aware, a kind of Chinese lettuce) Scattered all over the road.  Smashed and smushed and half run over.  And on the side of the road, a grandma with a basket darting in and out of traffic to try and rescue what she could. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;At a school festival today, I watched small children perform bizarre little skits, forget lines, sing, dance and perform in the dark of the elementary school gym.  Then, I caught a glimps of the toque the elderly fellow in front of me was wearing.  "No, that can't be what it says.  It's dark, he was moving -- I misread it."  More singing, dancing, and still watching out of the corner of my eye to try and catch another glimpse of the patch on the front of his hat.  "No!!! Seriously?  That can't be right... No, it really does..." &lt;br /&gt;What did it say?  "Bitch Skateboards."  Yeah baby, bring it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, at the same school festival was a young girl with these classic words emblazoned on her shirt, "Catch up with the man."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what she thinks you should do with the man after you catch up with him...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-8644892134823669222?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/8644892134823669222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=8644892134823669222&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/8644892134823669222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/8644892134823669222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2008/11/japanese-mysteries.html' title='Japanese Mysteries'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-6911180612012514676</id><published>2008-11-19T23:47:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T23:51:20.508+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weather'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Moonless Moonlight</title><content type='html'>Looking across the river tonight, the treetops up the side of the hill are all coated in a sugaring of snow.  Enough snow that I had to glance around to see where the glow was coming from.  But, as it is a clear moonless night and the stars are thousands of miles away, it was only the glow of the snow against the dark blue sky that had my mind's eye playing tricks on me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-6911180612012514676?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/6911180612012514676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=6911180612012514676&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/6911180612012514676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/6911180612012514676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2008/11/moonless-moonlight.html' title='Moonless Moonlight'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-315253768233206284</id><published>2008-11-09T21:36:00.006+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T22:08:24.730+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Art and Music</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SRbgHfLfEMI/AAAAAAAAABY/PVpAkWK0cFE/s1600-h/img613.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266643233489752258" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 144px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SRbgHfLfEMI/AAAAAAAAABY/PVpAkWK0cFE/s200/img613.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I have been thinking about both recently. Art because I recently have encountered a couple of people who are talented artists but I had no idea. Like me, they have some ability (possibly, if not quite likely more than me) but they haven't put pencil to paper in ages. Their lives have taken up too much of their time, a situation I well understand. I recall taking a drive last year (last year!!) and finding some sights that inspired me to sketch for a while, but I haven't taken that trip again since that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SRbfmJuUlFI/AAAAAAAAABQ/6-iYDQ0AaJA/s1600-h/img611.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266642660794602578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 158px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SRbfmJuUlFI/AAAAAAAAABQ/6-iYDQ0AaJA/s200/img611.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"art" versus "Art" is another of those topics that I have been musing over recently. Having spent a little bit of time vacationing in the museums of the renaissance and onwards, I have an appreciation -- although not always a real understanding -- for Art. I admire the skill and the talent it takes to put something together. I enjoy the impact of a well-crafted piece. But, even though I have taken a few fine arts classes, I tend not to overthink the meaning and symbolism said to be inherent in the thing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe it's because my own personal version of art tends towards the simple. I wish I had the imagination of others that are able to design something from the mind's twistings, but I tend to be more inspired and more interested in the real that surrounds me. And so, I go in for "art." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266642238773037746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 142px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SRbfNlkiirI/AAAAAAAAABI/bVwwc6qrr6o/s200/img612.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Music is my sanity. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was once asked by a friend (not always the most tactful or well-thought friend) why I like music so much. It's not as if I play an instrument, he remarked. I hadn't realized he was such a musical snob. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love it because of it's ability to fade into the background as my own soundtrack, or it's ability to bring me directly into the emotion of a moment. The desire it can create in me for spontaneous eruption of song or dance. The energizing, or the equally calming, effect it can have. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I love the accessibility of it to so many. And that it takes no membership card to do so. Apparently my point of view and my friends don't quite sync up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is this love of music that drives me to share it with people.  For a friends birthday, I gave him music.  But I had such a hard time choosing, I ended up giving him 11 CDs worth.  When I get asked to DJ, always I end up trying to narrow down fifty or sixty songs to a mere twenty or twenty-five.  My passion runs a little too deep maybe.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-315253768233206284?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/315253768233206284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=315253768233206284&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/315253768233206284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/315253768233206284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2008/11/art-and-music.html' title='Art and Music'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SRbgHfLfEMI/AAAAAAAAABY/PVpAkWK0cFE/s72-c/img613.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-873852666878965541</id><published>2008-11-05T21:54:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T21:57:07.664+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Fabulousness and All it Entails!</title><content type='html'>I am in one of those mental places where I have once again decided I am fabulous.  Despite the various injuries I seem to be enduring, I am fabulous.  I have work I need to do instead of this, but I always figure a little self-confidence doesn't hurt.  And I also think a great many more of us could use the confidence!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-873852666878965541?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/873852666878965541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=873852666878965541&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/873852666878965541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/873852666878965541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2008/11/fabulousness-and-all-it-entails.html' title='Fabulousness and All it Entails!'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-979552499224209022</id><published>2008-11-02T00:23:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T00:27:02.169+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Impulse Without Meaning</title><content type='html'>I have an urge.  An urge to blog.  I even had an idea -- a good idea -- for something to blog about.  But, alas, alack, and och, that was on Thursday when I was driving to a conversation class.  And *poof* it was gone.  I haven't been able to dredge it out from the mush that was my mind.  And yet, I have an impulse to blog.  But nothing to say.  I need to get out more, I think. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wish I could remember what I wanted to blog about on Thursday... I had the distinct impression it would be interesting and fun to type about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn.  Blame it on old age?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-979552499224209022?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/979552499224209022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=979552499224209022&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/979552499224209022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/979552499224209022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2008/11/impulse-without-meaning.html' title='Impulse Without Meaning'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-7979430428149061373</id><published>2008-10-31T22:52:00.005+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T09:00:22.037+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Mish Mash Splish Splash</title><content type='html'>On my way home from work today, I passed by one of my grade two students. She was 'skipping' along, but skipping feels like a word that is lacking in it's descriptive qualities. She was leaping from foot to foot, with her arms swinging out far and wide to the sides and over her head. Inhibitionless, that's the way to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-7979430428149061373?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/7979430428149061373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=7979430428149061373&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/7979430428149061373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/7979430428149061373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2008/10/mish-mash-splish-splash.html' title='Mish Mash Splish Splash'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-1170304724896284555</id><published>2008-10-27T17:58:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T18:09:11.392+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='internet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Voyeurs Anonymous</title><content type='html'>What with only having just gotten internet installed (in my Japanese life, anyways), it has become even more disturbing to me the voyeuristic tendencies I am subject to.  Now, I was never one to watch the reality shows -- the first ever season of Survivor, and some of the second were about the extent of it -- but I am definitely exhibiting inclinations.  Not only that, I am inviting people in as well.  Facebook and blogs, and whatever else... I wonder if that is why facebook has such success?  Not the social networking thing, but our ill-concealed desire to find out what other people we know are doing.  I mean, I have "friends" on Facebook that I am not sure I would consider friends in real life.  Although, I am getting better about ignoring requests.  I will admit to enjoying looking and reading to a certain extent to see what's going on.  Primarily, I use it becuase so many people I know are so far away, and it is an easy way to keep in touch.  And on occasion, it can even be inspiring, seeing where people have been or what they are trying.  But half the time, it is just curiosity about someone I don't really know, with perhaps a smidge of occasional jealousy...  Today, I ramble.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-1170304724896284555?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/1170304724896284555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=1170304724896284555&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/1170304724896284555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/1170304724896284555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2008/10/voyeurs-anonymous.html' title='Voyeurs Anonymous'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-856923157737778694</id><published>2008-10-26T05:12:00.006+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T05:26:51.945+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parties'/><title type='text'>Hooley Success!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SQOAxWf1XAI/AAAAAAAAAA4/nY6xJp7iEgk/s1600-h/DSC02325.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261190375039917058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SQOAxWf1XAI/AAAAAAAAAA4/nY6xJp7iEgk/s320/DSC02325.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Hi! High? Pecadoss's 2008 Hallowe'en Fancy Dress Hooley was a smashing success, if off schedule from the first minute on. Loads of people, some inspired - and some less so - costumes. Some dirty and some disturbing costumes. But then, what is Halloween if not an opportunity to be the skanky self you might not usually be? Plenty of music -- fabulous music. And again, Eshico burned the place down, showing why they are well worth the hype of having a TV crew on hand.  Even live art, performed before our very eyes, accompanied by classical piano.  All in all, an excellent chance to see and chat and dance with people who I haven't seen much of recently. Even Kaori, in from the capital, was on hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for my costume? Well, my definition changed depending on my mood when you asked me. Diane's lesbian lover, porn star, madam of a bordello, mafioso, superstar DJ, Bonnie (as in "&amp;amp; Clyde"), queen of the universe, queen of her own mind, evangelist, foreigner... Much like my own life really, the change you see reflected in my own mind's state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;God, it is so time for bed now...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-856923157737778694?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/856923157737778694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=856923157737778694&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/856923157737778694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/856923157737778694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2008/10/hooley-success.html' title='Hooley Success!'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SQOAxWf1XAI/AAAAAAAAAA4/nY6xJp7iEgk/s72-c/DSC02325.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-4547779833458119394</id><published>2008-10-24T14:42:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T14:49:14.696+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='email'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleep'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Drunk Mailing...</title><content type='html'>I had an impulse as I went to bed last night to perform some irreverant drunken emailing... The bizarreness stemmed from my sobriety.  The urge was strong though - very strong - but the force was mine to be wielded and instead, I fell into a fitful sleep wherein I was haunted by numerous songs that refuse to flee the confines of my mind.  Normally, only one song is trapped, spinning round and round and round, but my mind seems to have gone supernova on me and kept expanding to include more tunes.  Last week it was "Ballroom Blitz."  Last night, the blitz returned with company -- "Cry Baby," "Bananza (Belly Dancer)," "I'm not going to teach your boyfriend how to dance with you," "U Can't Touch This," and last, but certainly no the least -- in fact, perhaps the most pervasive of them all -- "Heaven for the Weather."  And yes, I realize my capitalization is erratic...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-4547779833458119394?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/4547779833458119394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=4547779833458119394&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/4547779833458119394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/4547779833458119394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2008/10/drunk-mailing.html' title='Drunk Mailing...'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-1702395733222667758</id><published>2008-10-22T23:02:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T14:49:52.681+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><title type='text'>Literary Languishing</title><content type='html'>During my fabulous summer holidays, I managed to acquire several intriguing books and a list of others I wish to hunt down somewhere or other. And now, the only time I really spend reading is the 10 to 20 minutes before I fall asleep... Or instead of this, I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although, I am supposed to be also preparing my Saturday night set... So far, U Can't Touch This is my number one pick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-1702395733222667758?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/1702395733222667758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=1702395733222667758&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/1702395733222667758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/1702395733222667758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2008/10/literary-languishing.html' title='Literary Languishing'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-5996045868440709976</id><published>2008-10-21T22:57:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T14:50:46.802+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='procrastination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Procrastination and the Mastery Thereof...</title><content type='html'>It's not that hard, really, when you think about it (as is evidenced by this first line, meandering around and away and avast of any point I may actually have). Almost a science, really, but more of a magical science I think. You have to be willing to allow yourself to be captured by the big, the tiny, the infinitesimal, the underestimated, the overlooked, the vast, the beyond comprehension. In small doses or large, whatever catches the mind's eye and is able to carry it off into the nether reaches of your dusty mind. And of course, the most important part... It must be in lieu of the perceived necessary or important. But what's that they say about beholders and so forth? Maybe it is all part of the plan to enjoy being human... But none of this will help me get a Masters, will it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-5996045868440709976?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/5996045868440709976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=5996045868440709976&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/5996045868440709976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/5996045868440709976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2008/10/procrastination-and-mastery-thereof.html' title='Procrastination and the Mastery Thereof...'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-4026627559175408749</id><published>2008-10-20T18:17:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T14:51:09.270+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='internet'/><title type='text'>Rebirth and Resurrection...</title><content type='html'>Finally, I have internet at home. Seven plus years in Japan and I have never bothered, but now... Now I am attempting to take a Masters via mail / email / internet, and what with necessity and all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of this here Masters, it is entirely possible internet access will not improve the frequency (or infrequency) of my postings, but it will mean I no longer have to suffer from paranoia about inappropriate usage of shared computers at work. So fingers crossed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-4026627559175408749?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/4026627559175408749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=4026627559175408749&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/4026627559175408749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/4026627559175408749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2008/10/rebirth-and-resurrection.html' title='Rebirth and Resurrection...'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-964670796926158181</id><published>2007-03-14T11:42:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T14:55:30.921+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travelling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drinking'/><title type='text'>Fukuoka Avast</title><content type='html'>Well, an interesting and eventful weekend to say the least. Back in Niimi and looking forward to Friday night and a late sleep-in Saturday morning in order to recover from the weeekend past. Saturday alcohol consumption started at 7:45 (I had originally intended to wait until 8, but what the hell, I already had it in my hand) and lead to numerous bathroom breaks on our behalf. We had by far the most enthusiastic car load of passengers, even before popping tops on the bevvies. We had ET experiences, high tension (by the J語 definition of the phrase) and lots of laughs to go along with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The afternoon plans were a visit to an aquarium, and then a very large mall, followed by dinner with all 17 of us. After dinner, I bolted off to hunt down Katherine and Miho, neither of whom I have seen in ages, for a brief rendezvous before they had to head back to Yanagawa on the last train. The following morning was surprisingly hangover free, but full of much indecision at Dazaifutenmangu shrine when I tried to get a firm time from Kuma on departure so that I could once again meet up with K-chan and Miho. We strolled around the grounds about, but I don't think I feel any smarter than I did before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards, venturing into Kurume for some delicious ramen at a very smelly shop (and not in a good way) and then a flirtation with bird flu as we wandered through a 鳥公園 to kill time. Sleeping in the car was lovely if not too brief, and the return trip took far too long as people dawdled about after bathroom breaks. Returning to Niimi at 9, but not getting home till later was a little rough as I had yet to sort out my supplies for Monday's classes. Blame it on the birds, an unscheduled diversion from the itinerary intended merely to kill time. Hmmm, all in all it was alright, but mostly it was just good to hang out with some interesting people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-964670796926158181?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/964670796926158181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=964670796926158181&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/964670796926158181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/964670796926158181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2007/03/fukuoka-avast.html' title='Fukuoka Avast'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-986844246216220739</id><published>2007-03-07T14:03:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T14:55:55.444+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travelling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parties'/><title type='text'>Fukuoka Ahoy?</title><content type='html'>Off for the weekend to Fukuoka with a scattering of random Niimi folk, a lot of whom I know already. Apparently I am to bring fair loads of cash to prepare myself for the copious quantities of alcohol we are expecting to drink. I love how this trip is qualifying as study / research and will probably recieve some funding from the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also love how the city owns a building that anyone under 35 is allowed to use for free at nearly any time -- it has reasonably supplied music studio where I have been going to thump on the drums lately. It is also equipped with a pool table that I am looking forward to making use of some time soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for other things, well, there is a St. Patrick's Day party coming up on the 17th; last weekend was drums, driving, drinking and drawing (and volleyball, but the 'v' doesn't really fit with the whole alliteration thing I have going on); the week before was absurdly skillful bowling (on my part anyway), driving and munching on strawberries. And what will follow? Who knows, but I am looking forward to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live it up baby, live it up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-986844246216220739?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/986844246216220739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=986844246216220739&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/986844246216220739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/986844246216220739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2007/03/fukuoka-ahoy.html' title='Fukuoka Ahoy?'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-117091221941687176</id><published>2007-02-08T14:18:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T14:54:00.207+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sports'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drinking'/><title type='text'>Too Busy</title><content type='html'>But not in a bad way. It seems I have been too busy living and enjoying my life lately to spend time writing about it -- a process made all the more difficult when you consider that I exist without internet at home. So what's been up lately? My days have been filled with curry parties, mexican food, tequila, skiing, badminton, volleyball, leisurely breakfasts with friends, The Wyrd sisters, dinner with Hiro, quality time with Cian and Pete, Pete's birthday/sayonara party, 英会話, school, sunshine, car washing, speeding tickets, good books, a little bit of study, jogging, phone calls, flirtations and useless conversations, pick-ups in front of local grocery stores, magic card tricks, dice tricks, and lots of laughter. Sorry to keep anyone in suspense over that, but should I ever hook up, I'll try and do better to keep up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-117091221941687176?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/117091221941687176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=117091221941687176&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/117091221941687176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/117091221941687176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2007/02/too-busy.html' title='Too Busy'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-116902023702171280</id><published>2007-01-17T16:48:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T14:56:27.441+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='internet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>Much belated new year's wishes to all. Unfortunately, I haven't really anything on my mind right now, so I am merely adding to the internet trash that is already out and about, running rampant through the ether (ether, now that is a word I have been wanting to use for a long time, and never seem to find appropriate opportunity).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-116902023702171280?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/116902023702171280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=116902023702171280&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116902023702171280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116902023702171280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2007/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-116650695833123573</id><published>2006-12-19T14:37:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T14:57:40.135+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='procrastination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>First Days</title><content type='html'>Back at work and already wishing for a holiday. Not that I have long to wait, merely that patience is not my strong suit. And it isn't as if I am run off my feet this week, as both today and yesterday are at my smallest school -- an easy two classes a day. Tomorrow through Friday are all planned, and I only have to wonder and worry about January, however being out of it last week means I can push some lessons back into January and give myself some leeway. Maybe it is just because I am bored. &lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I'd rather be skiing, cycling, walking, reading, listening to music, hanging out with friends, writing Christmas cards, packing, cooking, playing volleyball, playing badminton, enjoying some quality flirting, dancing, singing, playing drums, studying J-go, sleeping...&lt;/span&gt; Nearly anything, as vacation is so close I can nearly taste it, and there is no way work can compete right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-116650695833123573?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/116650695833123573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=116650695833123573&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116650695833123573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116650695833123573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/12/first-days.html' title='First Days'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-116642308875822205</id><published>2006-12-18T15:14:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T14:59:02.944+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='illness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parties'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Mumpalicious</title><content type='html'>Mumps-a-lot. Mumparooney. Mumps away. Mumples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laid down by the mumps for the last week and a half, I spent a lot of quality time being bored off my rocker. Other than the first day or two when I had a fever, it wasn't a particular bad experience. Sure, it hurt and I couldn't eat solid food for quite a while, and I have to admit the mumps definitely didn't suit my haircut, what with becoming quite the Heian beauty (the bottom half of your face is wider than the top), and I was constantly sucking back the ibuprofen for the pain, as well as trying to spend as much time as possible sleeping in the hopes that time would pass faster, but hey, other than that, I was in fine fettle. Hell, I even went to a couple of parties the day after my fever broke (and despite the schools' paranoia that kept me out of the classrooms all last week) nobody I was in contact with caught them from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did I get them? Ah, lucky me picked them up at work. One of my local schools has had the mumps running through it for a couple of weeks now, and lucky me got to take part. I think I am the only adult in the bunch to come down with it too. I've always been a very lucky girl, what can I say...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are gone now, and I am back to solid foods, however my appetite is still missing -- crying shame when you consider the luscious feast that was laid out at Diane's yesterday. Curry, turkey, stuffed gyoza that wasn't gyoza, some fabulous melt in your mouth pork roast, gravy, potato salad, pasta salad, veggie and fruit salad, and even more all laid out for the taking, followed up by some chocolate cakes, brownies, doughnuts, and creme-filled pastries. Well, I have a week now to work myself up to a home cooked Christmas dinner with all the trimmings, so here's hoping I find my appetite in the midst of all those culinary delights.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-116642308875822205?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/116642308875822205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=116642308875822205&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116642308875822205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116642308875822205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/12/mumpalicious.html' title='Mumpalicious'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-116539655172359480</id><published>2006-12-06T18:02:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:00:41.545+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travelling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parties'/><title type='text'>Murmurs, Mumbles, and Meanderings</title><content type='html'>Welcome to my 151st post! And just to warn you, I have nothing to say! Ha-hah! I do however have a curious predilection that involves overusing my exclamation mark!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My set for the Christmas party is polished off, and it looks like I have decided to make this one a venture into funk and motown. Get a little nostalgic, shall we? Although I can't even really claim it as my own nostalgia, being a bit too young. But I suppose listening to it on my parents' radio station throughout my childhood could claim some of this retro-reminiscing as my own?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say I am actually nervous about this one, and not entirely because I am unsure how my set will go down, but also because of one of the boys I am bringing. The same day I get to check him out on the drums, he gets to check me out on the decks. Here's hoping it goes so well as I should like it to...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am currently sporting a new coiffure, short and sporty looking, with just the right amount of sass to keep me happy. Not nearly as pleased with this cut though as I was with the last one, as the hairdresser persisted in using those horrible thinning scissors that my hair desperately doesn't need. Next time, I will definitely ward her off, paying due heed to the words of wisdom Diane uttered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diane and Hiro's house is coming along very well. To repeat a statement I made many times wandering through the framing, it's absolutely huge! Looking forward to seeing this when it's done, and can completely appreciate the enthusiasm with which Hiro is filiming every step of the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas shopping is nearly done -- the only person left to shop for is my father, and I am once again stymied. Books? Tools? Music? Clothes? Who knows? And I will only have 1 day after I arrive in Canada to take care of it, flying in as I do on the 23rd. Lord loves shopping that close to Christmas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adventures in badminton last week have shown me that I may be better at badminton than I am at volleyball, or they could have shown me that the people I was playing with are worse at badminton than I am. I am not sure yet which way I should lean on this, although my spike (volleyball) is getting better, but my serve remains weak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Christmas party is 3 days off and I am looking forward to it, however slightly less than normal as one of my favourite Yonago boys will be missing as he visits a very ill grandmother. Here's wishing him a safe flight home and hoping things go as well as they can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-116539655172359480?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/116539655172359480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=116539655172359480&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116539655172359480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116539655172359480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/12/murmurs-mumbles-and-meanderings.html' title='Murmurs, Mumbles, and Meanderings'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-116476786666629775</id><published>2006-11-29T11:33:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:01:28.962+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weather'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='illness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Blasted Cold</title><content type='html'>And I don't mean the weather -- although irony of ironies, after constantly telling people how it is warmer in Vancouver than some of the places I have lived in Japan, this week they were decimated by a blizzard. And this following a week after a massive rainstorm that the city didn't quite recover from... And this is where I am going to spend Christmas?? Hmmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been attempting to get over my cold for nearly 2 weeks now, and almost had it in the bag Monday. And if I had taken the day off Monday and spent one more day in bed, I have no doubt it would be a thing of the past. However I didn't and it isn't. And I am wishing I had some more of that yummy nabe right now. -C, I'll see if maybe I can't bring you some?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-116476786666629775?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/116476786666629775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=116476786666629775&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116476786666629775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116476786666629775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/11/blasted-cold.html' title='Blasted Cold'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-116410049515900226</id><published>2006-11-21T17:45:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:04:31.960+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weather'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Helter Skelter</title><content type='html'>... but without the summer swelter. With the winter freeze doesn't sound nearly as good though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, back to being wanted as a mail came hither today informing me that a neighboring town next to where I used to live is interested in having me work there. It's always nice when people give you good press.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Multiple nabe parties in the here and then, as three weeks straight have been occupied by parties devoted to this ubiquitous and comfort-food style dish, the most recent being Sunday night just past. After a semi-disastrous bowling outing -- no, I didn't accidentally toss the ball backwards like I have done in the past, I merely sucked horrendously in the first game (57!?!) but made up for it a bit by the second (102, not great but whatever), only to walk away with a set of garbage bags and a 500 yen certificate for anything I want. A crew of volleyballers primarily, we managed to make more than our share of gutterballs, single pin knockdowns and the occasional spares and even more elusive strikes. Followed by a quality meal at Tomato Onion, paid for by Niimi Wellness (I truly don't understand how they can afford to do this, as the whole day only cost me 500 yen, and I got my bowling paid for, a 500 yen set of trash bags, a 500 yen certificate, and a free lunch out of the deal), we headed back to Niimi for a nabe party at Datte's that night. Originally intended as a night out drinking, they shifted gears and decided to do nabe and beer instead when I informed them I was short of funding. Seriously, it is great when people love you. Especially when they go into the grocery store, and knowing that you don't drink beer, buy several of your faourite "Cocktail Partner" -- can you have a favourite cocktail partner? -- as well as one of every other flavour on the shelf. I would put money on one of these guys having a crush on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conversation devolved into playing and drawing at the party as we all started messing around with Datte's 1 year old daughter's toys. It also lead into discussions of blood type's, which as we all know is used and believed in more than horoscopes and star signs are at home. Being a B myself, apparently quasi-rare in Japan, seems to mean that I am prone to being lost in myself, or self-centred if you want to go with the negative spin on it. I'm not sure how accurate I would say that is, however I seemed to prove their point when every once in a while when conversation flowed too rapidly or came from too many directions, I stopped paying attention. I tried to explain that it can make a person tired, focussing and thinking in another language constantly, but I don't think they believed me. Way to help perpetuate a stereotype, Nico. Or I just don't want to cop to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are curious, I get the feeling Type B is considered the worst to have. According to the Wiki (bow down before the all-knowing and sometimes erroneous Wiki!!), I am:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Best Traits: Creative and passionate. Animal loving. Optimistic and flexible. Individualist.&lt;br /&gt;Worst Traits: Forgetful, irresponsible, and self-centered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I will definitely give them the forgetful... The other ones, who knows.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if this has whetted your curiosity, here is what the Wiki says about you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Type A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Best Traits: Conservative, introverted, reserved, patient, punctual, and perfectionist.&lt;br /&gt;Worst Traits: Obsessive, stubborn, self conscious, and uptight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Type AB&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;Best Traits: Cool, controlled, rational. Sociable and popular. Empathic.&lt;br /&gt;Worst Traits: Aloof, critical, indecisive and unforgiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Type O&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Best Traits: Ambitious, athletic, robust and self-confident. Natural leaders&lt;br /&gt;Worst Traits: Arrogant, vain and insensitive. Ruthless&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-116410049515900226?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/116410049515900226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=116410049515900226&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116410049515900226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116410049515900226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/11/helter-skelter_21.html' title='Helter Skelter'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-116270037220894848</id><published>2006-11-05T12:46:00.003+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:36:56.408+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drinking'/><title type='text'>Nabe Party Extraordinaire</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SQFsmJ_CWgI/AAAAAAAAAAw/qfzoq6OYJx4/s1600-h/DSC01622.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260605242516593154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SQFsmJ_CWgI/AAAAAAAAAAw/qfzoq6OYJx4/s200/DSC01622.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yes, Friday night, I had a nabe party for 6 in my lovely little living room. Elly and Noriyuki made the trek from Tottori City, and Datte, Kishi and Kuma made up the local colour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started 3 weeks ago at the takoyaki party when a consensus of drunkards decided that I should hostess the next party, and it would be nabe. I foolishly said yes, or some slurred version of yes, forgetting that despite the delicious simplicity of nabe, I don't really remember or know what it takes to make nabe. Recall my first ever nabe party in J-land...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Having invited over all the kids in my county, and a little farther down the train line, I purchased a wide assortment of veggies and meat, the required burner and pot and got sorted to have a party. Only to have Henley ask, where's the sauce or flavouring. With a blank stare, I asked, what on earth are you on about. Apparently it takes more than just plain water to successfully navigate the world of nabe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, Friday afternoon I called Elly from the supermarket, saying that although I know nabe is a very random and easy meal, I am not entirely sure what I should be doing or buying or trying not to poison people with. And Elly, well, Elly nodded and smiled -- rather, did the verbal equivalent of it -- and hung up on me. I get that a lot, both in person and on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I managed to buy a variety of foods, which ended being too much in the end, but was certainly better than running short in the middle of the feast. And I got the beer right. The beer was no problem, but the wine did turn out to be one. Definitely unwise to play a drinking game with wine. But that's for later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guests arrived and assessed that I was in a weirder and giddier mood than normal, which lead to much laughter and an agreement amongst everyone that the craziness runs through the women in my family. Sorry mom, but Elly saw the canned ham and when I told her where it came from she cried from laughing so hard. Which lead to me having to explain it again later after everyone had arrived, and minor convulsions from Elly again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Datte and Kishi were both partaking of the beerage, whilst Kuma chan stuck to tea -- which I have no doubt ended up working out in his favour come Saturday morning as he kept losing in the card games, while I was hungover as all get out from chugging wine. Second time I have done this, and have yet to achieve favourable results. The beer probably helped Kishi and Datte not go into shock when Elly got going. Invariably the conversation turned to sex, which is entertaining but shocking for a bunch of boys who have never met her before. Me, well I have had 5 years plus to adjust. And they have no idea how restrained Elly really was, which made it so much more entertaining for me. Conversation delved into love hotels, homosexuality, marriage, finding poor Kuma-chan a wife (I swear, everytime I have been out with Datte and Kishi the conversation has turned to poor Kuma-chan's inability to find a wife, regardless of whether or not he is there. You have to wonder what they are going to do for conversation should he ever marry.), and other reasonably tame, although still nonetheless shocking to the unindoctrinated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Devolving into drinking games at Elly's suggestion, we taught everyone how to play shithead, and much like in August when Elly suggested it then, Elly proceeded to lose. And I, I once again won without having to take a single sip. However this was before we ventured on to daifugou, which is a lot like Big 2. Shit. Never again. And poor Kuma-chan who, in lieu of drinking, was made to perform a variety of songs, dances and stripteases, all the while wearing my leopard print cowboy hat. I have some very charming photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately the boys all took pity on me and went home around one, as there was no way I was going to last longer than that, or it could have been due to them all having to work Saturday morning at 8:30. Either way, definitely a good thing they left when they did as all that wine -- once again, I chugged nearly an entire bottle in the space of an hour -- hit very quickly after that. Fortunately nothing was going to dampen my mood; or at least not until I tried to get up Saturday morning and I deperately wished my head and I could experience a temporary separation...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still alive though, and with plenty of laughing memories and blurry photos of Friday to last to the next party.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-116270037220894848?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/116270037220894848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=116270037220894848&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116270037220894848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116270037220894848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/11/nabe-party-extraordinaire.html' title='Nabe Party Extraordinaire'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SQFsmJ_CWgI/AAAAAAAAAAw/qfzoq6OYJx4/s72-c/DSC01622.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-116270191412493736</id><published>2006-10-30T13:29:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:08:23.776+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='driving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parties'/><title type='text'>Halloween Touring</title><content type='html'>Last weekend was the big event -- combination of the infamous Yonago Halloween party and the more sedate but no less fun Touring rally round Niimi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having gotten all my music sorted and decided with a couple of days to spare, I was left with the eternal dilemma -- what to be? Once again, I decided I had to wear the boots, seeing as how opportunities to do so in Niimi are few and far between, and that is as far as I got. I coupled it with my favourite and only leopard print cowboy hat and a smashing red shirt which works well in my favour and decided to go as a woman with a theme song. The theme song? "Hot girls in good moods" by Butch Walker and the Let's Go Out Tonites. Who needs a costume when you have a theme song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The party this year ended smashing all previous records as 205 people attended, as much for the booze as for the music and dancing. There were a variety of clever costumes, from my favourite fallen Mormon to our hated North Korean president, to a flamenco dancer, a sexy and furry black cat, a pirate with a penchant for mascara, a white faced monster, a cute army captain, and on and on and on. My favourite Mormon, being the generous fallen soul that he is was good enough to treat me to dinner before the party, which was made even better for the company, followed by meeting up with more friends too long not seen. The music rocked, the venue was packed and favourite peoples abounded -- really, what more could I want from a party? Maybe not having to drive back to Niimi after, but that was my choice which also led to more fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning's touring rally round Niimi with my two-meat sated navigators -- they feasted on yakiniku the night before, not really taken with the veggies so much as one might hope. The weather was gorgeous and has been for weeks. I have this fear that winter is merely hiding and laughing waiting the perfect moment to leap out and snow me under. We got our maps, which were barely that, and set off on our meanders around Niimi, losing roads and finding others, no arguing but lots of laughing and very little speeding. Each stage was followed by some kind of quiz or activity, and of the three I have discovered that I have a lot to learn when it comes to ground golf, a curious cross between golf and croquet. Hopefully I will do so before the tournament on November 19th...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and by the way, my lovely navigators, Datte and Ikeda Kun, and I managed to win the rally by a single point, despite constantly losing at rock scissors paper.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-116270191412493736?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/116270191412493736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=116270191412493736&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116270191412493736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116270191412493736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/10/halloween-touring.html' title='Halloween Touring'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-116141399707329531</id><published>2006-10-21T15:33:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:09:50.473+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sports'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Stressing and De-Stressing</title><content type='html'>Go to work. Laugh and joke with the staff. &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Bite my tongue at another school. &lt;/span&gt;Bring it home at the end of the day. Spend a couple of hours planning lessons for the next day, the next school. Sorting out supplies and materials. Look in my wallet, and decline the dinner and party invitations. Scrounge supplies and cook dinner with whatever I can find. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Listen to some good music.&lt;/span&gt; Worry about studying, without actually doing it. Cook some dinner, wash some dishes. Find some time to do laundry. Talk to my neighbor and listen to her complain about work and life in Niimi. Go for a jog. Enjoy a hot shower. Try to avoid the assault of the kame-mushi which seem to be out in droves this year -- apparent predictors of heavy snowfall come winter. Get up early and race out to meet everyone for a volleyball tournament. &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Attempt not to laugh out loud during opening ceremony while Kishi-kun stands in front of me, sending sidelong glances and quietly laughing.&lt;/span&gt; Get scolded by a friend behind for the obvious repressed laughter that has my shoulders shaking. Win a couple volleyball games, lose a couple. Chatting with Tama-chan about last night's okonomiyaki, and how I should meet her parents. (I hope this isn't a reversion to people thinking I am gay again? Seriously, just cause someone doesn't date much...) Joining a 70 person long single line "wave" as everyone cheers for the most unsportsmanlike team who ends up winning the tournament. Line up, once again ending up behind Kishi-kun during closing ceremony, who makes me withhold my laughter once more, but this time my scolding friend behind joins in. Listen to stories in the car about poor Kuma-chan while trying to catch up on some sleep. &lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Getting caught not sleeping when the conversation takes strange turns and I burst out laughing.&lt;/span&gt; Wedding and marriage discussions while someone listens intently without trying to seem so. A declaration from me that there is no way I am going back in a different car, as I don't even want to imagine what they will discuss if I am not here. &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;A perverse keyboard that doesn't have a warm and friendly relationship with the letter "V." &lt;/span&gt;Volleyball practice that goes reasonably well. Getting better and feeling slightly more confident, but still don't know exactly where I am supposed to be and when. Plans made for a nabe party on upcoming culture day with the boys who make me laugh in return for the takoyaki fest of a few weeks ago. Cycles about town in an attempt to save on gas, get up off of my ass, and get a better look around. Halloween party preparation. Listening to hundreds of songs in an attempt to make a set that will keep me happy. Laundry -- when the hell am I going to get that done? &lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;Cleaning, sure, let me call my maid. &lt;/span&gt;And people wonder why I don't invite them oer more often. Snow tires and my lack thereof, accompanied by stories from all my schools about how impassable routes to 3 of my schools will become in a month or so. Chatting with missed friends in Yonago about weather, work and wellness. &lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;Partaking of some homemade 梅酒 acquired from a friendly teacher.&lt;/span&gt; Enjoying some gorgeous fresh veggies from someone's garden. Munching on some delicious Frankenstein-sized grapes, a 名物 of Niimi. Worrying about how I have been out of touch with people I love for far too long. Wishing I had more time to read, but getting home too tired to care. And now? Who knows...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-116141399707329531?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/116141399707329531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=116141399707329531&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116141399707329531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116141399707329531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/10/stressing-and-de-stressing.html' title='Stressing and De-Stressing'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-116104983278439652</id><published>2006-10-17T10:36:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:11:15.131+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='matrimony'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>Yet Another Month Under the Rising Sun</title><content type='html'>Well, I have to admit that things are fairly hopping in Niimi, at least as far as I am concerned. Nevermind the daily grind -- the fun that accompanies visiting a multitude of schools who are all studying different things -- my social life has been quickly filling up my free time. What with having joined a couple of volleyball teams and softball teams (although the softball team and the soft volleyball team are now finished until next year) as well as taking part in some of the enkais that accompany such events, attending various sports days (without the make-up day off everyone else gets as I am very cleverly scheduled around everyone's holiday) and the enkais that accompany that, takoyaki parties and nabe parties, and soon a carnival and a DJ gig to boot, I am hoping for a moment to catch my breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit that alcohol is at the root for several of these events, agreeing to participate as I did after consuming a plethora of screwdrivers, however it has introduced me to a variety of fun people who I am looking forward to meeting again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A curious thing about Niimi though -- nearly everyone is married. No, this doesn't mean I am looking, but certainly compared to Yonago where very few of my friends were married, here nearly everyone I meet has taken the plunge or is desperately hoping to, which means many conversations venture in that direction. Perhaps they thought there was nothing else to do? Or maybe there is something in the water? Or are they afraid of letting a reasonably nice person get away? Who knows, but I am now being asked to describe things like my ideal man and my dream wedding, and when I reply that I haven't really put that much thought into those things (God's honest, I really haven't) there is a moment of shock and disbelief before some comment about how, "isn't marriage every little girl's dream?" bursts forth through shocked expressions. And no, these people asking me these questions aren't women but men, as the friends I have made are primarily married men...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows where these conversations will continue to lead, but I have to admit to feeling sorry for Kuma-chan, one of those friends who is searching for a wife to be with little luck, which is leading to conversations about him and his stories when he is present and isn't. Poor guy, and no, I am not interested, which instead of flat out saying, "no, really, you just don't do it for me" and hurting his feelings, has resulted in me relying on my lack of free time as an excuse. (I could totally find the time if I were, but I am not...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-116104983278439652?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/116104983278439652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=116104983278439652&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116104983278439652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/116104983278439652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/10/yet-another-month-under-rising-sun.html' title='Yet Another Month Under the Rising Sun'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-115838058626544583</id><published>2006-09-16T13:06:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:13:20.760+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sports'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>So Very Hisashi...</title><content type='html'>In the past couple of weeks, I have been going out and about to a variety of schools, forgetting names, working too hard trying to make some decent supplies, playing volleyball, forgetting to study, making nice with the neighbour's kids, chasing random bugs and frogs out of my house, and not getting enough sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, the schools are good -- I have enjoyed meeting the students and the staff for the most part. Although, yesterday, I almost got the feeling that one of the teachers at a very small school I visit (11 kids, 2 teachers) was angry at me because Niimi has decided to implement an English programme in all their schools either next year or the year after. She seemed to be complaining without complaining about how busy the teachers all are, and how the curriculum is no longer being followed in a lot of places, and how the curriculum they have is the one that was set out by the Ministry of Education (I would just like to point out that the curriculum is a suggestion, not required). All this in response to my asking what sentence we should use with vehicles for the 5th and 6th grade class. I thought that, "I'm going by --." would be good, provided it were logically following a class where the students covered something like, "I'm going to --." and suggested that perhaps the order could be adjusted a little, especially since the students will be studying directions in November...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was taken as if I had intended it as a personal front, as well as being accompanied by her own belief that perhaps English, or things about English were too hard for kids. And her own daughter grew to hate English, as the teacher in her daughter's school went too fast through things without checking to see that the kids understood, nor did she translate anything into Japanese. Foolishly, I replied and said, "Well, I am a different person, and I do try and check every once in a while that the kids understand what it is I am going on about. But I also think that if you translate everything into Japanese, the kids will merely wait for that, rather than relying on their own abilities, and it is not necessarily a bad thing to use English in English class so that the kids can get used to it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After my foolhardy response, she continued on about the fixation Niimi has with offering English in the schools, how there are only classes every 2 weeks at her school, and other things that I faded out on (I really do appreciate how I can just fade out og the J-go sometimes, although it isn't always by choice). I may have agreed to something inadvertently, but I don't know what it is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Volleyball has been fun. I have only been twice so far, last week Friday being the first, and people seem pretty friendly, but they aren't nearly as easygoing and relaxed about it as was suggested to me originally. They were almost scary, which made me very very glad I had not agreed to join the serious team. Last night was slightly less scary, although I did make a block on a spike that felt like it could almost have broken my hand. It is however leading to a softball game Thursday night, provided it doesn't rain, and an enkai next Saturday with a bunch of other "circles." Looking forward to it...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-115838058626544583?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/115838058626544583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=115838058626544583&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115838058626544583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115838058626544583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/09/so-very-hisashi.html' title='So Very Hisashi...'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-115726164569464370</id><published>2006-09-03T14:17:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:14:53.879+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Cooking Craziness</title><content type='html'>Friday night, after a brief stop Manabi Niimi to make use of free computers and internet, I went grocery shopping. At the first grocery store, I bought some veggies and meat, but what with the prices being too high on various items, I stopped at one a little closer to home to pick up my missing supplies. And during the jaunt about the second, I saw other things the first didn't have, or that were cheaper than the first, and again stocked up. Which led to me having too many groceries -- it really is true; you shouldn't go grocery shopping when you are hungry (by the by, I think I ended up having leftovers for dinner on Friday night). Which led to me having a very small fridge stuffed to the brim with all kinds of fresh groceries which I realized as I unpacked them that I would never be able to eat all of before they went off. Which led to last nights frenzy of fantastic foods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I didn't eat them all, but I did cook them all in a 3 hour culinary coup. I was very impressed to discover that I do in fact have enough pots, and merely confirmed my awareness that I don't have enough counter space. After poring through both my English and Japanese cookbooks (I do love my English cookbooks, but sometimes the ingredients are impossible or prohibitively expensive to buy, which leads to my salivary glands being taunted, and thus I went out and purchased 4 or 5 J-go cookbooks, and spent an afternoon going through kanji and words I didn't already know), I settled on my menu. I ended up with 2 kinds of curry, ratatouille, my very own Chinese stir-fry, and the insides for some fajitas. Spread out over my counter in a variety of pots, bowls and fry-pans, I then proceeded to bag or package it all up to shove in the freezer for consumption at a later date. At least 19 meals... And it leaves me with a couple of meals to be consumed in the fridge, as well as a bunch of displaced chocolate -- ah, poor chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling very satisfied with myself, and a little curried as every time my hands come near my nose, I catch whiffs of curries and garlic and other delicious ingredients.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yum. Damn, I am pretty good at this whole cooking thing sometimes...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-115726164569464370?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/115726164569464370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=115726164569464370&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115726164569464370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115726164569464370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/09/cooking-craziness.html' title='Cooking Craziness'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-115710491839321971</id><published>2006-09-01T18:58:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:16:24.474+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Computers Anyone?</title><content type='html'>I wasn't planning on being here today, yet I am. In a fit of frustration I have realized that I need a computer if only to be able to do my job. 7 schools and 42 classes and all kinds of different curriculums are a little difficult to keep track of with only scraps and bits of papers floating around. Anyways, I ended up in the computer hiroba tonight as I needed to send some inquiries about supplies to the company and feel guilty doing it from the school, especially since I will only be there maybe 4 times a month. I don't want it to look like I am glued to the computer all the time...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-115710491839321971?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/115710491839321971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=115710491839321971&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115710491839321971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115710491839321971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/09/computers-anyone_01.html' title='Computers Anyone?'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-115700639509424782</id><published>2006-08-31T15:31:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:17:23.663+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Almost off Hiatus</title><content type='html'>But without regular and relaxed access to a computer -- at least not until I buy myself one -- the hiatus may continue in intermittent spurts or long pauses. Who knows...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, the new house is fabulous (again, excepting the toilet, but whatever as I got a toilet for my birthday from the fabulous Elle s'appelles and Cheap Haji which means no more squatting!! Woohoo! A bottle of wine was cracked in celebration and the toilet was soon christened), it's only the neighbours that could drive me to distraction. The bugs that find their way in and I have no idea how... I am actually sort of longing for the winter freeze which will force them into hibernation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new town (technically, it is a city, but who are they kidding??) is pretty good as well. I have been enjoying the air conditioning provided by my neighbouring river, as well as the cycling around and checking things out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The job is the only thing I am not sure about yet -- 7 schools has me pausing. The teachers are fabulous however, going out of their way to talk to me or hunt me down some suitable olleyball teams to join -- one was found; a team of 20 - 30 year olds who like to drink and aren't too serious about the game, whom I shall meet as soon as I manage to hunt down the gym. And the kids I have met so far are lovely and eager and shy, so it will be interesting and challenging I think. Excited and experiencing a little trepidation...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to aisatsu the BOE now, so sayonara!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-115700639509424782?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/115700639509424782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=115700639509424782&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115700639509424782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115700639509424782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/08/almost-off-hiatus.html' title='Almost off Hiatus'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-115370646917079803</id><published>2006-07-24T10:59:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:17:54.226+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><title type='text'>Hiatus Again</title><content type='html'>Well, as I am about to move house and am leaving my current job (to be unemployed and unpaid for at least a month -- very exciting), I will be unable to post until at least September, so please, check back then and see if I have managed to survive on canned beans and mango juice...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-115370646917079803?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/115370646917079803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=115370646917079803&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115370646917079803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115370646917079803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/07/hiatus-again.html' title='Hiatus Again'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-115320722750645322</id><published>2006-07-18T16:17:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:18:20.286+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weather'/><title type='text'>Perverse Retribution</title><content type='html'>Possibly owing to my claiming you could drown in the humidity we have been experiencing, the weather has decided to try and drown us all in earnest. It hasn't stopped raining for a couple of days really, and seems to come down harder nearly every time I step outside or am about to. Fortunately today we were also blessed with a little thunder and lightning to liven things up and make me wish it were already nighttime, and I was home in the dark with a glass of wine enjoying the storm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-115320722750645322?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/115320722750645322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=115320722750645322&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115320722750645322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115320722750645322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/07/perverse-retribution.html' title='Perverse Retribution'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-115319956308664619</id><published>2006-07-18T14:07:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:19:17.228+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home'/><title type='text'>Happy Home</title><content type='html'>I found my new home, and quckly declared it such, much to the surprise of the real estate agent. Located as it is by a river and a rice field, with only 4 other homes on the street, how could I say no. Venturing inside up to the second floor, we quickly opened all the windows and encouraged each other to stick our heads out and enjoy the gorgeous breeze while the bewildered agent looked on in disbelief. We ran up and down the hall, opened all the cupboard doors and skipped across all the tatami floors while trying not to bounce our tall heads into the low ceiling. All the while, I kept saying, "Yes, here. This is where I want to live!!" I will even be able to get past my indoor outhouse which will be my toilet (there has to be a reason why rent is only 45,000/month for a 4K house). Yes, I am very much looking forward to living there and have been slightly more energized in my packing since discovering it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-115319956308664619?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/115319956308664619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=115319956308664619&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115319956308664619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115319956308664619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/07/happy-home.html' title='Happy Home'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-115276520749898353</id><published>2006-07-13T13:28:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:19:44.608+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weather'/><title type='text'>Oppression is in the Air</title><content type='html'>The clouds have hung heavy and low in the sky for the past few days. Except for a very brief reprieve this morning when they cleared out for a brief glimpse of the sun, we have been living in the grey. The clouds themselves wouldn't be so bad, but they are holding in the heat and humidity better than my apartment ever does in the winter. It has been in the low thirties and humid every day lately, making every movement feel like a life-draining effort. I attempted to go jogging last night, but I just felt like I was drowning in the air. And yet, I have friends that love this, whilst I am hoping for the days to return where I can start the day without sweating getting up out of bed. Ha, all you people in Vancouver that think it's humid -- bite me. You got no idea what you're talkin' about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-115276520749898353?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/115276520749898353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=115276520749898353&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115276520749898353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115276520749898353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/07/oppression-is-in-air.html' title='Oppression is in the Air'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-115268427483705207</id><published>2006-07-12T14:58:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:20:32.575+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><title type='text'>Let's Get Physical!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday afternoon, I was subjected to yet another physical. Not that it is really all that bad, it's just the whole "I hate needles and turn purple every time I get stuck with one" thing that causes me angst. Other than that it was all good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The highlights? They wonder why I don't black out or faint on a regular basis because apparently my heart only thumps away at 43 beats per minute. And that was with me nervous (going to the doctor always speeds it all up a little) I have rather low blood pressure, which is why when I used to give blood it always took ages, with me sitting there clenching and unclenching my fists. And according to the doctor, everything else was okay (but I can't honestly say I know what the everything else was, as he rambled through it very quickly in Japanese medical terms with which I am wholly unfamiliar).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe this whole slow heart thing runs in the family, as I remember laughing about Mindstar's "My dad could get cable with all the wires he's wearing" post...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-115268427483705207?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/115268427483705207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=115268427483705207&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115268427483705207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115268427483705207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/07/lets-get-physical.html' title='Let&apos;s Get Physical!'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-115251821661937235</id><published>2006-07-10T16:49:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:21:11.355+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Theory</title><content type='html'>I have a theory that George Lucas spent some quality time in Japan before making the Star Wars movies. It is not a particularly profound or deep theory -- purely superficial. Would you like to know what inspired me to this? The Jedi. The Jedi knights, Jedi mind power, return of... The word Jedi is incredibly similiar to the Japanese word for the Self-Defence Forces. 自衛隊(じえいたい or jieitai if you prefer the Roman letters) is often pronounced to this crazy foreigner's ears to sound a lot like Jedi, which always leaves my mind quietly whispering, "May the force be with you..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-115251821661937235?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/115251821661937235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=115251821661937235&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115251821661937235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115251821661937235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/07/theory.html' title='Theory'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-115225656333027147</id><published>2006-07-07T16:11:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:21:49.780+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='internet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Experiments with Annoyance</title><content type='html'>Not quite a month ago, I was proclaiming blogger beautiful, and now, now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been able to see or access my last couple of posts from my blog, only from the control panel after logging in, and am wondering if it is just me. In an exercise in futility, I am posting yet another to see if mere volume of backlog could cause it then to burst forth from the fiberoptic ether. But, I doubt it. I imagine I have gone and foolishly done something to cause a permanent hiatus in my posts. Although I can't say I mind too much as it will give me a chance to brush up on my language skills and dwindling vocab.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-115225656333027147?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/115225656333027147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=115225656333027147&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115225656333027147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115225656333027147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/07/experiments-with-annoyance.html' title='Experiments with Annoyance'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-115225614256890643</id><published>2006-07-07T16:07:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:22:19.434+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'>Speaking of the Devil</title><content type='html'>It is always the way, isn't it. I write and mention that I have given up the ghost on cute waiter man, and all of a sudden, out of nowhere I get a mail asking to go out drinking together. I erased his phone number and email a month ago, and now this?? What the hell?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-115225614256890643?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/115225614256890643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=115225614256890643&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115225614256890643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115225614256890643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/07/speaking-of-devil.html' title='Speaking of the Devil'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-115217173298631020</id><published>2006-07-06T16:36:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:22:54.521+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='procrastination'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><title type='text'>Rolling, Rolling, Rolling</title><content type='html'>Get them wagons rolling...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I have no wagons, just a little tiny car with the most impractical trunk in the world and several friends willing to help me move with their slightly more spacious vehicles. And the only thing holding me up is my own sense of the "laze." In fact, I think I have it well and truly mastered. Instead of packing up my books, I watch videos. Instead of boxing up blankets and throwing away unwanted pillows, I go jogging. Instead of throwing away my old and crappy clothes, I talk to friends on the phone or go out with them. And things are starting to pile up (especially on my desk chair where I am not studying Japanese, but rather collecting clean laundry).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not to worry -- I always come through in the end. And the end will invariably be one of the hottest days in July and I will sweat it out, but I will get it done and it will be glorious (the finishing, not so much the doing). Yes, yes it will. Or so I keep humouring myself...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-115217173298631020?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/115217173298631020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=115217173298631020&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115217173298631020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115217173298631020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/07/rolling-rolling-rolling.html' title='Rolling, Rolling, Rolling'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-115102159192946956</id><published>2006-06-23T09:07:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:23:25.617+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>It's so Nice to be Wanted</title><content type='html'>The interview in Osaka a couple of weeks ago went so well that the guy offered me the first elementary school job he could find. And now I am mulling it over. The job is in Mie prefecture and would involve rotating between 5 different schools of varying sizes -- none as large as the one I currently work in. The paycheque would be decent and the work sounds reasonably challenging. Plus, the idea of moving is very appealing. I have my friends here whom I would miss, but I would trading that for new locations with a closer proximity to other, closer and larger locations such as Osaka, Nagoya, Kyoto, Nara...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, the thing is, I have an interview in Hiroshima tomorrow with a different company which has positions available in Okayama, Hiroshima, as well as Yonago. Also with reasonable paycheques (some better than others) and different trade-offs. I decide Monday which it will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is so nice to know when people want you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-115102159192946956?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/115102159192946956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=115102159192946956&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115102159192946956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115102159192946956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/06/its-so-nice-to-be-wanted.html' title='It&apos;s so Nice to be Wanted'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-115027009624463279</id><published>2006-06-14T16:20:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:24:30.465+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='safety'/><title type='text'>Heart All Aflutter</title><content type='html'>Last night as I was getting settled for bed, I heard shouting and wailing and screaming coming from a parking lot nearby. At first I thought it might just be some noisy late-night revelers being let out of the izakaya next door, but then the screams of a woman took on a tone of desperation. I went to the window to try and figure out where it was coming from, and saw a neighbour who lives alone closing all her windows as I opened mine wider.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized it was coming from the parking lot up the street, and seeing the headlights of a car I decided to go and check it out, making sure everything was alright. I quickly got dressed and grabbed my phone as I went out the door. I noticed my heart fluttering and my hands were shaking as I tried to get my key in the lock. As I approached the parking lot's entrance, the sounds and shouts had dissipated, and the car came tearing out in front of me. I looked around to make sure there was no one hurt and left behind, but they were gone -- rode out in the car the came in on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps if I had understood what was being said, I would have felt less of a case of nerves and more calm, simply slamming windows shut like my neighbour did. But I didn't, and in the hopes that if I, or someone I love, should ever be in a situation similiar to that, someone would be kind enough to come and make sure everyone was alright, I did the same. Fortunately, as far as I know, there was no call for my presence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-115027009624463279?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/115027009624463279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=115027009624463279&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115027009624463279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115027009624463279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/06/heart-all-aflutter.html' title='Heart All Aflutter'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-115018410527236218</id><published>2006-06-13T16:28:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:25:11.187+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='admiration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Validation</title><content type='html'>...even if not my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conversation with Diane the other night over a delicious salad and some yummy risotto (even if you didn't use the real rice, it was very delicious and I will have to get the recipe off of you), she mentioned an activity she had recently done with some of her high school students. In an attempt to make them practice using, "My favourite ~ is --," she had them write some sentences. Apparently two boys turned in papers with the sentence, "My favourite teacher is Rachael." Rachael was in her second and last year way back when I was in my first, working solely in elementary schools in Yonago. It's always nice to find out that what we do here has some kind of lasting effect on the kids we are in touch with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And before Rachael left, I told her that when I grow up, I would like to be like her. Hasn't happened yet -- either the growing up or the being more like her...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-115018410527236218?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/115018410527236218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=115018410527236218&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115018410527236218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115018410527236218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/06/validation.html' title='Validation'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-115009649282996840</id><published>2006-06-12T16:12:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:25:40.506+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weather'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>More Fireflies</title><content type='html'>Going jogging along Hoshoji River last night at half past nine, I saw more fireflies than I have ever seen in my entire life. Dotting the riverbanks on both sides, apparating in the midst of rushes, even going so far as to visit neighbouring rice fields. It made for a well-lit night, as the moon was full and suggestive of autumn harvests.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-115009649282996840?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/115009649282996840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=115009649282996840&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115009649282996840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/115009649282996840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/06/more-fireflies.html' title='More Fireflies'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114983654396614930</id><published>2006-06-09T15:56:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:28:34.664+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Life After JET</title><content type='html'>Who knows if it actually exists, but I will be finding out soon enough. I am just not certain that life after JET will be life after Japan. It is likely I may be around for a little while yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Saturday, I went to Osaka for a two and a half hour job interview. Fortunately it was a two and a half hour interview, as the bus ride one way is three and a half hours, and it really would have sucked had it been for a twenty minute interview. Although, that would have given me more time for shopping...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past 11 years, if not longer -- and I do think it is actually longer -- I have had 3 job interviews, including the one just past. I suppose it bodes well, as I got the job each time I interviewed, but I harbour a mild concern that the law of averages are gonna kick me in the teeth sometime soon. I have a suspicion life isn't supposed to go that smoothly all the time, and one of these is going to be a job I really want, and will fail miserably at the interview. However, that day has yet to come, so I will put off worrying for a while longer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114983654396614930?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114983654396614930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114983654396614930&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114983654396614930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114983654396614930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/06/life-after-jet.html' title='Life After JET'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114923335433216586</id><published>2006-06-02T16:24:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:30:08.386+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Failing Lunch</title><content type='html'>Eating lunch with one of the 4th year classes today, it was 2 boys, their teacher, and I making up the lunch group. And it was the first time I found out that lunch is actually a study period. It is structured similiarly to a class and as such, is considered 勉強. I didn't actually ask what would be required to fail lunch, but I am thinking I probably would as I always leave food behind, I am constantly playing with or talking to the kids, and I don't really help with the clean-up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could you imagine? "Yes, Mrs. Morita. We are very sorry but we are going to have to hold Wataru back a year. You see, he just isn't doing very well at lunch. We really don't feel that he understands the concept."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114923335433216586?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114923335433216586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114923335433216586&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114923335433216586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114923335433216586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/06/failing-lunch.html' title='Failing Lunch'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114920559084302282</id><published>2006-06-02T08:41:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:31:05.799+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parties'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Prima Donna Demands</title><content type='html'>When asking me if I would be willing to DJ at the next Hi!High? event way back in April, Cian asked if I had any unreasonable demands I wanted to make. I said, yes, I require 50 green peanut M&amp;amp;Ms. Time is getting down to the wire, and Wednesday night I got a phone call from Cian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not a single green M&amp;amp;M. I bought and opened 23 packets -- nope, 22-- 22 packets of M&amp;amp;Ms and there's not a single green one. I thought you might be putting me on, but there is a picture of the green one on the package. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn' stop laughing. I told him I would willingly accept red or something, but he said no, he was determined to succeed, and was going off hunting again last night in search of more. I have yet to hear how that turned out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114920559084302282?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114920559084302282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114920559084302282&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114920559084302282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114920559084302282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/06/prima-donna-demands.html' title='Prima Donna Demands'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114913560769327848</id><published>2006-06-01T13:15:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:31:43.143+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Hotaru Spotting</title><content type='html'>Two nights ago, jogging along the river, I spotted my first hotaru of the year. Last night, I spotted a couple more hiding in the overgrown banks, and even one flying out of the gutters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first hotaru sighting was in Yodoe, on a night-time cycle round town. Not knowing what I was seeing, I jolted to a sudden stop and rubbed my eyes, thinking perhaps my lack of sleep is finally laying claim to me. It took me a minute or two, as they kept disappearing in the darkness, only to reappear a lazy 6 inches away. I realized what it was and started following the ditches all the way home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114913560769327848?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114913560769327848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114913560769327848&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114913560769327848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114913560769327848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/06/hotaru-spotting.html' title='Hotaru Spotting'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114905540184293551</id><published>2006-05-31T14:56:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:32:35.805+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>Saturday Set</title><content type='html'>My set is all decided -- the music is all there, the order is generally decided, and I love it all. It remains to be seen whether that holds true for anyone else, as I will be ranging from classics to classic cheddar to some absolutely rockin' rhythms. Starting with a well-known Groove Armada track, and making the trek through things like Goldfrapp, Space Cowboy, Rihanna, Soft Cell, Blondie, J-Lo, Kylie, Franz Ferdinand, Arctic Monkeys all they way down to a complete unknown (unless you were or are a fan of the Canadian music scene about 8 years ago) called Pure. Looking forward to it. I am thinking though that I might do well to try and switch for the first set. I know, giving up the prestige of the last set is a big step down, however I am wavering in my belief that I can actually stay awake until 2am and be enthusiastic about it. Hmmmm....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooh, and now I have another job interview -- this one on June 24th in Hiroshima. I think they are perversely picking the days I have commitments on purpose - a friends wedding nijikai is a little hard to get out of.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114905540184293551?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114905540184293551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114905540184293551&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114905540184293551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114905540184293551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/05/saturday-set.html' title='Saturday Set'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114862990490680953</id><published>2006-05-26T16:48:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:38:40.492+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sports'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parties'/><title type='text'>Spiderweb</title><content type='html'>Once again all wound up in music. Planning and plotting and dreaming about my next set at Hi! High? for the World Cup Party. Should prove a busy day, as I have to catch a 6:30am bus to Osaka for a 2 hour job interview at 11am. Arriving back in Yonago at 6:30, I rush straight off to Hi!High? to mess with the decks before going home to change and eat dinner. My 1am set will be followed by a PTA volleyball tournament the next morning. I seriously think the world is having me on right now. Maybe I can use the excuse of my messed up back to get out of it?? (My kids -- I love 'em, but the little bastards are trying to break me.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114862990490680953?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114862990490680953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114862990490680953&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114862990490680953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114862990490680953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/05/spiderweb.html' title='Spiderweb'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114828124593979085</id><published>2006-05-22T15:59:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:39:36.122+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='internet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Beautiful Blogger</title><content type='html'>I don't know the hows or the whys, but it seems Blogger had dug up and resurrected all my old blog posts from before the dreaded deletion. And as such, I am making an effort to transfer them all back in to my current blog. So, if you have both time and inclination, have a look and see where my head has been.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114828124593979085?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114828124593979085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114828124593979085&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114828124593979085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114828124593979085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/05/beautiful-blogger.html' title='Beautiful Blogger'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114784483544352001</id><published>2006-05-17T14:07:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:41:50.342+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Wednesday</title><content type='html'>I only just got back from 5 days off, and already I am wishing it was summer. Only Wednesday and praying for Friday. Actually, was already praying for Friday yesterday, which does not bode well for my mental state. I have all my classes prepared until next Monday, and it won't take much to make sure that is ready too, as I have only one class left to plan that day. I am just feeling very, very tired, and I am not sure why. Oh well, it will pass, as it always does.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114784483544352001?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114784483544352001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114784483544352001&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114784483544352001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114784483544352001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/05/wednesday.html' title='Wednesday'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114715747853149797</id><published>2006-05-09T14:59:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:43:26.288+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travelling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drinking'/><title type='text'>Hanging with Cheap Haji</title><content type='html'>Hanging with cheap Haji in the Hagi on the beach,&lt;br /&gt;Mowing down on natsumikan soft cream in the heat,&lt;br /&gt;The Ell's'appelles and I regretting looking washed out from bleach.&lt;br /&gt;Stealing cheap Haji's shoes, and burning what I can,&lt;br /&gt;It's no wonder my new misnomer suggests a pyromaniacs leanings,&lt;br /&gt;As dirty t-shirts, lacquered chopsticks and unclean cutting boards entered into the breach.&lt;br /&gt;"Buurrrrrrn!" "Burrrrn!" said with a Scottish burr and a J-land lilt,&lt;br /&gt;While I couldn't help laughing halfway through, "Burrrghhahaahaaaha!"&lt;br /&gt;After consuming the wine, the gin, I ventured forth into Irn-Brew!&lt;br /&gt;That's right, I have discover the secret recipe for Irn-Brew, or at least the adult version.&lt;br /&gt;Take one bottle of Finlandia cranberry vodka and mix generously with Mitsuya cider.&lt;br /&gt;The sugar and teeth rotting nature is lacking, however the general essence is there,&lt;br /&gt;And now the most popular drink in Scotland can be reproduced anywhere&lt;br /&gt;(In the confines of Japan that Mitsuya cider is sold, or where a fair likeness).&lt;br /&gt;5 hours cycling around in the sun were we the clever ones,&lt;br /&gt;Proven the next day by the redness of our arms and soreness of our bums.&lt;br /&gt;Definitely an experience of the "deserves to be repeated" sort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Poetry is so completely not my bag... My apologies to those for whom it is.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114715747853149797?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114715747853149797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114715747853149797&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114715747853149797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114715747853149797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/05/hanging-with-cheap-haji.html' title='Hanging with Cheap Haji'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114715429656151332</id><published>2006-05-09T14:55:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T00:28:32.665+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Devil's Eyebrows</title><content type='html'>I have a 2nd year boy who has perfect devil's eyebrows. He does nothing to them, being too young to care, they just grow that way -- arching out into a point just enough outside of the centre to give him a constant appearance of mischieviousness. I can easily imagine him with horns and a tail, or even with a villian's curling, drooping handlebar moustache hiding his intentions, with a black top hat casting shadows over his eyes as he leers and laughs at the young heroine tied to the train tracks in front of him. All this, and he is only 6 years old.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114715429656151332?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114715429656151332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114715429656151332&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114715429656151332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114715429656151332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/05/devils-eyebrows.html' title='Devil&apos;s Eyebrows'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114602106900642612</id><published>2006-04-26T11:59:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T00:29:49.716+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><title type='text'>Music is my Sanctuary</title><content type='html'>Music is my retreat, my sanctuary, my energizer, my revitalizer, my reviver, my relaxer. And Saturday night, it was my paycheque. At Steve and Tom's club in Tottori City, I got a chance to play DJ for a couple of hours, beginning the night, and then being sandwiched between a hip hop and a trance set. My sandwich set went fairly well despite the nearly complete and utter lack of bodies on the dance floor. God, can't wait to do it again...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114602106900642612?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114602106900642612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114602106900642612&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114602106900642612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114602106900642612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/04/music-is-my-sanctuary.html' title='Music is my Sanctuary'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114601979272492444</id><published>2006-04-26T11:45:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T00:30:25.253+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Howler Monkeys</title><content type='html'>I have never actually encountered a howler monkey in real life, but I have a feeling I have heard what can be best described as a fairly accurate imitation of its call. A girl in one of my 6th grade classes can be heard on numerous occasions screeching around the school grounds. During class even, should she get a little too excited, she can be found trying to break glass using no tools other than her voice. And I think she believes I am joking when I start to cower and press my hands up against my ears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114601979272492444?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114601979272492444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114601979272492444&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114601979272492444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114601979272492444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/04/howler-monkeys.html' title='Howler Monkeys'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114594881384265866</id><published>2006-04-25T13:54:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T00:31:33.880+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='safety'/><title type='text'>I Got Bit by a Horse!</title><content type='html'>That is the email I sent to a friend, and it led her to worrying that I was in so much pain I was no longer capable of forming sentences with proper grammar. In a frenzy of concern, she wrote back asking if I was alright, or was I in the hospital? Was I in pain?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I had intended to do was make her laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, the night before I had gone out with my favourite waiter and two of his friends. (After getting a message utterly out of the blue last week that went something along the lines of, "I love your smile," I decided to take advantage and see if I couldn't convince him that we should hang out a little.) His friends both work out at the local stables where many of the racehorses are kept, and after having begged them for ages to bring him out to look around, they finally relented when they found out I was going to be coming along. After getting only mildly lost on the mountain, my chauffeur eventually got us to the stables, where his friends brought us in and gave us a bit of a tour around, as well as letting us into the stables where we were able to both look at, pet, and take photos with the horses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not so much into the photos, I did however enjoy rubbing the horses noses or letting them lick my hand. The last one we got close to was enjoying my hand a great deal -- so much so I started to get concerned and draw back a little bit. It was then one of the guys said, "oh, don't worry. He's not biting or using his teeth or anything." I think the horse understood, and in a moment of perverse pleasure chomped down on one of my fingers right then. And the boy standing closest to me heard it happen, while I refuted the previous blithe statement with, "Well, he is now" and yanked my finger out from the clenched teeth of a 500 kg animal. Great concern about the amount of pain I must be in, I shrugged it off, saying, "actually it doesn't hurt that much." And it didn't. It didn't actually hurt until about 10 minutes later when we were driving around the grounds before leaving, and it continued to hurt all the way down the mountain as I massaged and rubbed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It stopped hurting by the time we got to the yakuniku restaurant, but by then, to make up for my lack of pain, it began raining even more heavily than it had been. We sat down around a smoky shichirin and grilled up various bits of animals (livers, intestines, endocrine glands, as well as the regular muscle), chasing it down with heaping bowls of rice and chunks of raw cabbage. As the only non-smoker in the group, and therefore the only one who really wouldn't appreciate the smoke, it all gathered around me as I feebly attempted to blow it away. Although, according to my cute waiter, there is a Japanese saying that suggests the smoke only gathers around the most attractive person in the bunch, at which I laughed loudly and he and his friends all started trying to blow the smoke into their own faces. The drunken chef caught me slipping my escort for the evening nearly three quarters of my rice (as there was no way I was going to be able to eat that much plain rice on my own) and inquired as to whether I was his wife. It seemed to be the day for those kinds of questions, as not only was I asked by the chef, I was asked numerous times at school be several 1st year students, and later by my escorts friends whether or not I had a boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a delicious and filling dinner, it was my turn to take over behind the wheel of the car and cause panic in others, as I now knew where we were going. That, and it was my car. We carried on to DD's for a variety of activities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started with a 4 person game of ping-pong, on a round table divided into 4 sections. And had it remained merely a game of ping pong, I have no doubt I would have lost miserably as I am really, really not good at ping pong. My waiter, however, decided to make it more of a challenge by deciding that every time you hit the ball, you had to name a country -- and it could not be a country previously said by anyone at the table. We would go to minus ten points, and the loser would have to buy everyone else a soda. Now this, this I can do. It started off well, with Nobita rapidly getting to minus four points. On a stumble and a miss I wound up at minus one, with Daichi at minus three and my waiter at minus two. With a nod to each other, we decided we would do our level best to make sure it ended up with Nobita, but Daichi rapidly started losing ground in the game, and started taking longer and longer to return the ball. It got to the point where the ball was barely bouncing, and at one point, he even stood bouncing it on his own paddle until he could come up with a country's name. The breaks before services grew longer and longer as my cohorts for the night found it more and more difficult to come up with country names, while I was bouncing on my toes, pleading with them to just hit the ball. When it came down to it, Daichi ended up losing on a made up country, buying us all a soda to relax before we carried on to darts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darts. I am not good at darts either. Throwing a ball and throwing a dart are two very different things for me, and in our game of Count-Up, I managed to only lose by a lot in the first game, and then come from way behind to surprise the heck out of everyone - including myself - and get a triple-20 and a bulls-eye in my last turn. Lucky me ended up winning the game, which led to a third and final attempt by those who wished to regain some of their pride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We should have stopped the night after the darts. But we didn't. We decided to try the bowling as well. Now, I am not usually utterly horrendous at bowling, but this was not my night. In fact, it was no one's night, as not a one of us broke 100 in the first game (in fact, we were hanging around 60 and 70, with a 95 taking the game). The only strike of the night was in my last frame, where I shocked both myself and the boys by actually managing to throw the ball straight, and by following it up with a spare. We started the second game after that, against all our better judgement, and ended up quitting halfway through. Oddly enough, we did not ask for a print-out of our scores, as spectacular as they were. If we were being generous, we could blame the aborted second game on the fact that Taichi and Nobita had to get up at 4:30 the next morning for work, and by this point it was already 1am, but that would be a lie. A blatant lie intended to preserve self-respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drove my waiter home, and got a handshake for my troubles (I remember the first time I went out with Dave, and I left him with a handshake at the end of the night; I made up for it on the second date, but I now understand how disappointed he probably was by that), as well as loads of enthusiastic waves and excited good nights, bending down again and again to wave good night through the side window, as well as waving while crossing the street, when he may have been wiser to be making sure there was no traffic coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, an extremely fun night, despite getting bit by a horse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114594881384265866?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114594881384265866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114594881384265866&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114594881384265866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114594881384265866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-got-bit-by-horse.html' title='I Got Bit by a Horse!'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114549213299991164</id><published>2006-04-20T08:49:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T00:33:17.152+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>The Honey</title><content type='html'>Having gone to Do!Do!Do! for dinner and some relaxation last night after a full day of work and a Japanese lesson, I was pleasantly surprised when who should come walking in but Tim and his brother-in-law! Moving over to their table from my comfortable chair at the bar, we ventured into discussions about diminishing and disintegrating brain power, Monbusho and the Japanese school system and its inherently flawed system of teaching English, music, insects, nuclear destruction, the presence of souls in various living things, New Jersey versus New York, and the various puzzle books Tim had just purchased. All this eventually devolved into a game of table honey hockey, wherein Tim sent the honey flying past me a couple times, to land at the foot of the table across from us. The two girls at the table didn't even turn their heads as I walked over to retrieve it from their area, nor did they even blink the second time, and again, no reaction at all when we sent Tim's brother-in-law the third time (it had gone off his side of the table that time, figured it was his turn). Osamu, the burly bartender, did notice however, and came over to scold us. Not for the honey hockey, but for our use of the tableware. Relinquishing our teacups and saucers to replace with oshibori, we carried on briefly until we realized it was just too easy to stop the honey by merely throwing the oshibori on top of it. This then gave way to discovering just how strong Tim's eye was. It all started with his holding an onion ring up to his eye and me poking him in the glasses. He then moved on to the honey and popped that in, holding it up with his brow and cheek. The next challenge was the small, empty milk container that had come with his tea. Having acchieved a modicum of success with that, he moved onto the lid from his teapot, and then proceeded to challenge himself by trying to do both eyes at once. All the while, T and I were carrying on laughing, Tim was being Tim, and not a single person around us turned or glanced in our direction to see what the hell we were doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, what have we learned from all of this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tim's right "eye" is stronger than his left.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114549213299991164?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114549213299991164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114549213299991164&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114549213299991164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114549213299991164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/04/honey.html' title='The Honey'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114541381680337467</id><published>2006-04-19T11:22:00.002+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T00:34:41.749+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parties'/><title type='text'>Will You Still Need Me, Will You Still Feed Me, When I'm 55?</title><content type='html'>Junpei, the local Hi! High? master celebrated his 55th birthday on Monday night, and in a delayed celebration, Cian planned a dinner for him last night. Gathering in Spatula for delicious eats and treats, an assortment of Hi! High? party-goers and performers awaited the arrival of our willing party hoster. Junpei arrived in style, wearing sunglasses and an expression of surprise as he entered the restaurant and saw us all gathered around the table. His concern eased when he realized that, no, it wasn't a date for Cian and he, and so there was no longer any need for the disguise. He quickly doffed his hat and shades, taking a seat near the centre of the table to be feted and cheered by all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In celebration of Junpei's fifty-fifth, we all ate too much and drank not enough. And conversation ran the gamut from Junpei's very suspicious demeanor, sidling into Cian's car as it were when he was picked up, to Junpei's first experience of Coca-Cola as a young boy (He was out as a young boy of 5 or so -- when the US military was occupying the country -- and recalls being called over by a group of soldiers who handed him a bottle of Coke and tried to get him to drink it. The colour and consistency were rather off-putting apparently, but he tried it anyways. Much to his surprise, it wasn't near as disgusting as the colour indicated it could be, and he really liked it.), giant cockroaches that bite, and anal sex gone horribly wrong and the secret belief that most men want to do it despite out and out public denials. To each his own, eh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114541381680337467?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114541381680337467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114541381680337467&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114541381680337467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114541381680337467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/04/will-you-still-need-me-will-you-still.html' title='Will You Still Need Me, Will You Still Feed Me, When I&apos;m 55?'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114525639531081151</id><published>2006-04-17T15:41:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T00:35:20.046+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Inexplicably and Inevitably True</title><content type='html'>Why is it nearly always true that when you decide that you are done with something, ready to give up and blow it off, ignore it forever, that things always ALWAYS turn around right at that moment? When you are looking for a job, you have a hard time finding one, and then when you do, suddenly you get offers on others. When you are looking for a car, same thing happens, you purchase one and then suddenly, you find something better. When you have decided to erase someone from your phone book, they suddenly contact you multiple times in one day -- entirely unbidden. What the hell? Not that I mind so much on the last one, but still, what the hell?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114525639531081151?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114525639531081151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114525639531081151&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114525639531081151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114525639531081151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/04/inexplicably-and-inevitably-true.html' title='Inexplicably and Inevitably True'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114500229644190909</id><published>2006-04-14T16:58:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T00:38:41.168+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Ain't too Proud to Beg, Sweet Darlin'</title><content type='html'>But I guess it all depends on what exactly I might be begging for. For my life, for my job, for my friends, for my family -- in a heartbeat. For good good lovin', for fabulous conversation, for a dance floor, for intellectually stimulating conversation -- why wouldn't I? For beautifully written and enthralling novels, for a fast car that handles like it's on rails (which will undoubtedly lead to me begging off of a speeding ticket or many), for satisfaction, for a good laugh that leaves you with your stomach muscles aching -- I would never even hesitate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you are looking back at the first line, saying, "really? You would beg for your job?" the truth is I would and I sort of did today. I have an excellent job that I am good at (and want to be better at) and there exists the possibility that I will be able to keep it for one more year, and as such, I decided to ask for it. It is not just the job that I am begging for, but the life it allows me to lead -- I do beleive firmly that, as much as possible, I want to work to live, rather than vice versa. Having had one of those jobs that works the other way, I know a good thing when I see it and would be loathe to let it slip through my fingers without even making a try for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, the waiting. We'll see how it goes. I have a little bit of hope -- not a lot, since there are so many things in the mix that I have no control over -- as I know there are several people who have some say in the matter and are pushing for it to happen. Who knows, but at least I have done my part.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114500229644190909?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114500229644190909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114500229644190909&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114500229644190909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114500229644190909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/04/aint-too-proud-to-beg-sweet-darlin.html' title='Ain&apos;t too Proud to Beg, Sweet Darlin&apos;'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114471770784407782</id><published>2006-04-11T09:58:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T00:39:36.917+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Fecund Curb</title><content type='html'>Curb, two times written on one page. Who'd have thought it would ever come to pass. It is one of several random english phrases written on the shirt of the woman across from me. The other two phrases being, "Never failing ultimate humankind," and "passion our passion." The latter two I can quasi-grasp the meaning of, but the "fecund curb" has me at a loss. Just how fecund does a curb have to be? And to what purpose? Is it secretly mutliplying at night whilst everyone is sleeping, populating the sidewalk-less streets of J-land with curbs in a meagre attempt to give pedestrians an illusory feeling of safety from the oncoming traffic? Who knows what lurks in the hearts of curbs...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to claim that the Peace Arch border crossing was on wheels and while everyone was sleeping, it was moving an inch or so south every night, on our way to claiming such vital economic powerhouses as Birch Bay and Bellingham as our own...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am rather enthralled with the whole idea of various ridiculous covert operations taking place under the cover of nightfall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114471770784407782?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114471770784407782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114471770784407782&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114471770784407782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114471770784407782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/04/fecund-curb.html' title='Fecund Curb'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114465035620799836</id><published>2006-04-10T15:09:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T00:41:27.034+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drinking'/><title type='text'>Peace, Pink, and Quiet</title><content type='html'>Friday, my sayonaras said to my last departing parent, I resumed my secret life as a rock star. After making a few purchases of outrageous sunglasses and scarves, painting my nails a harlot's red, polishing up my ass kicking black leather lace-up boots, donning the fuzzy leopard print hat, painting the scarlet lips, as well as the aforementioned scarf and sunglasses, I headed out on the town to have my way with the world, or at least kick it to the curbside should it decide to stand against me, and knock a few people on their asses on the way. An excellent night out was had despite the lack of rock star antics, but that was made up for with the fawning adoration I received from some of my fans (for lack of a better word).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday and Sunday were spent out in the &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;pink&lt;/span&gt;, and Saturday under the &lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;yellow&lt;/span&gt; haze that happened to fly in from China for the day. During the stroll about town, amidst many encounters with neighbours and students, I also managed to run into some friends who were rather far afield compared to their usual haunts. Under the full on blooming glory of the sakura and wandering amidst the crazy 一式飾 sculptures of Hoshoji, laughs were had by the dozen as I attempted to convince a variety of townsfolks that no, Pete is not my boyfriend. Those efforts all fell to naught when a student saw me chastely kiss Pete goodbye -- the rumours I shall have to counter tomorrow... I am thinking that perhaps I shall just run with it and boldly claim he is, as well as Michael, the rather Elvis-looking Frenchman who was also out that day with his girlfriend, as well as a few others maybe... Cian? Ted? Who knows where the trail of broken hearts shall end. I blame it on the boots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night, I thoroughly enjoyed the reclaimed quiet of my apartment. Putting on some mellow music (Jane Siberry, Paul Ubana Jones, Norah Jones), I opened the windows to spill the music into the garden where, illuminated by Christmas lights and a dozen or so candles, I sketched the garden, read some poetry and relaxed with the gin in my own private 花見 celebration. Ferlinghetti can be fabulous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114465035620799836?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114465035620799836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114465035620799836&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114465035620799836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114465035620799836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/04/peace-pink-and-quiet.html' title='Peace, Pink, and Quiet'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114308285381812424</id><published>2006-03-23T11:33:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T00:43:28.232+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travelling'/><title type='text'>Living in Translation</title><content type='html'>So my folks have arrived for a couple of weeks touring and relaxing in the land of the rising sun, and I have psyched myself for a couple of weeks of tongue-biting (or attempted anyways) and tour guiding, hopefully with a few late-night solo jogs to reclaim my sanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was the first day so far that has turned into a real test of my language ability (I am utterly aware, even more so after yesterday, of just how lacking it is in so many areas) as I guided the folks around to various places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started off nice and easy in an electronics shop where mom needed to purchase a new memory disc for her camera. Ok, all well and good. Escape without incident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, in a moment of foolishness, I brought the parentals to Sousenji Temple in Yonago. My parents, specifically my mother, have come to be very fascinated with graveyards and burial customs and rites to honour the dead. And I recalled that outside that particular temple, there was a small mess of lonely gravestones that there was no one left to take care of, other than the local monk (? my religious terminology is definitely lacking, and not just in English) who will pray over them. Following interminable questions about things I don't know, understand, or can't read (the assumption on the part of my mother seems odd that I should have immersed myself in Buddhism merely by living in the country, especially when one considers how very apathetic I was about faith at home, but who am I to question the inner workings of a crazy Catholic mother's mind), we ventured up to the temple where I asked permission from a man who was doing some clean-up to enter building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gladly said yes, and we three entered and wandered around the main hall, the altar, and the memorials in the back, as he attempted, out of appreciation for my parents' interest to throw random explanations at me for translation. I did my best, but there was a variety of things that escaped me, or assumed I had a foundation of knowledge to base my explanations on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, venturing back into the main hall, dad grew fascinated with a photo of the grounds hanging over the door. Currently, there is a new building under construction next to the temple, but in the photo, there was one already there. Out of dad's curiosity, I ventured forth a question about how old the photo was, and asked why it was being built. He replied that it was a twenty year old photo and got caught up in trying to remember it's origins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was then that the resident monk wandered out the door under the photo and our helpful quasi-guide quickly and eagerly explained that I lived in a neighboring town, I was with my parents who were visiting from Canada, and we were interested in various aspects of the temple, particularly the new building being constructed next door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is how we ended up spending a few hours on a very personalized and in-depth tour of the temple grounds, the history of the buildings, buddhism in general and the monk's life in specific. He showed us around the grounds, lead us through the new construction, explained the significance of various monuments and memorials around the temple, and patiently answered all the questions of my mother, while only slightly scolding my father and I for being lapsed whatevers that we are. We shared his green tea and sweets with him, and generally had what will probably be the best experience of my parents' trip to Japan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It ended with a Canadian pin being given, invitations to return, a photo being taken, a bell being rung, and being seen off from the steps of the temple. If the rest of their trip goes even half as well as yesterday afternoon, it will probably be the best trip my parents ever take.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114308285381812424?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114308285381812424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114308285381812424&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114308285381812424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114308285381812424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/03/living-in-translation.html' title='Living in Translation'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114248313883835310</id><published>2006-03-16T13:17:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T00:44:31.034+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>On Another Note</title><content type='html'>Last night during the good old Japanese benkyou, I happened to teach my tutor a word she didn't know. At first, she looked at me like I was crazy, or had most likely gotten the word wrong, but then I looked it up and showed it to her, resulting in shock and surprise. Always fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, in my favourite restaurant chatting with a bartender before I left, he complained that I was leaving for home too early, to which I responded, "I have things to do." His reply, "いやらしい。" I had a feeling it wasn't a good word, and asked what it meant, to which he said, "エッチ。" A word I definitely understand, but was too surprised to believe that could be what he meant. So I had him write the original word down, so as to look it up when I returned home. And it wasn't a good word, and no, I didn't misunderstand the meaning. He was calling me dirty&lt;br /&gt;and obscene. I am not entirely sure of what circumstances I could possibly be expected to consider that an acceptable comment from someone who is a relative stranger, and will be giving him a full-on, frightening, mixed language piece of my mind next time I run across him. And quite likely, me being me and fully willing to cut off my nose to spite my face, that will be the last time I see him as I may not go back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114248313883835310?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114248313883835310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114248313883835310&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114248313883835310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114248313883835310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/03/on-another-note.html' title='On Another Note'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114247638635970965</id><published>2006-03-16T11:22:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T00:45:35.271+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Pomp and Circumstance</title><content type='html'>It has been a week full of torturous graduation practices, held in an unheated and uninsulated school gym, standing in the back wearing a jacket while trying to keep my hands warm by drawing them as far up my sleeves as I possibly can. Why don't I just jam them in my pocket? I'm not allowed, nor are the students. And despite the cold the pervades your bones and makes your fingers hurt, I think I am the only person who has caught a cold from this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Certainly is making me look forward to tomorrow, when no one will be allowed to bury themselves in their winter jacket. I especially pity the outgoing 6th graders, as they will all be dressed in their finest, which, if last year is anything to go by, doesn't include much in the way of sweaters or warm layers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit to feeling a bit sad to see them go, as they will be my last graduating class, and over the past two years, I have gotten to know them all fairly well. I will be losing Dumpling, Anta Dare?, my fellow year long oni gokkou partners, my cohorts in bean fighting, as well as many others who could always make me laugh. But I can't help being happy for them, which seems to go against the whole mentality of graduation ceremonies here, where the main goal seems to be to try and make as many people as possible cry as often as possible. But then, I suppose I could be an aberration of sorts as I don't really remember being saddened by any of my graduations, rather delighted to be done with whatever it was and moving on to the next.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114247638635970965?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114247638635970965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114247638635970965&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114247638635970965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114247638635970965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/03/pomp-and-circumstance.html' title='Pomp and Circumstance'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114223378589757784</id><published>2006-03-13T15:47:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T00:48:01.144+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weather'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Weekends</title><content type='html'>are a beautiful thing, and far too short. Although, this weekend just past I was allowed to escape to freedom about 2 hours earlier than normal, as homeroom teachers were busy with parent-teacher discussions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went home during the sunny gorgeous afternoon weather and was so excited, I wanted to tell someone. But for the most part, everyone was working, so I messed with my favourite waiter's head a little via mobile mail. Followed this up with some desperately needed weeding in my garden, as well as a couple of loads of laundry and general tidying up of various areas of the house. Cian suggested the park, but that was merely a teaser as he was still working, and would be for hours yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, another gorgeous day that taunts you into believing that spring has finally sprung, had 18 degrees flashing on the sign by the side of the road as I whipped past with all the windows down and the music up. Those sunny days, they will probably prove to be the end of my driver's licence at some point as I can't help getting just a little too excited by the weather. And on this gorgeous day, I spent most of it indoors, in dark corners. Plans made nearly a week before to see a movie and relax over a late lunch proved to be ill-timed for the weather, as Sunday rose gray and cloudy, vacillating between whether to rain or not -- an ideal indoor activities day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie was Syriana, and the restaurant can be figured out on your own -- although I would like to point out, I did not suggest the location, nor did I make any broad or subtle hints in that direction; I just didn't argue and avidly seconded the notion. Syriana is one of those movies that leaves you feeling unsatisfied on multiple levels and pondering the multitude of things wrong with capitalism in it's current incarnation. Although, it probably isn't going to stop me from leading my life of glorious consumption, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, my phone promised rain and snow, and only delivered on half of it's promise in a very haphazard way, as you could step outside in the rain, and when you returned 10 minutes later, it had already ceased for who knew how long. I ended up doing some quality gardening during the in-between times, only to wake this morning and see the tender pansies and the like buried under 6 inches of snow in the garden. Hopefully they shall prove hardier than they look and not die off until I accidentally kill them through neglect. In the meantime, it was a lovely view to see the little flashes of colour in various corners and crevices of the garden during the winter hibernation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was followed by more laundry and cleaning as I attempt to get things sorted before my parental units descend upon my privacy. Futons were dragged out of cupboards in the hopes of airing them out without any outside air; sheets and towels were dug out of other cupboards and thrown into the mix, all the while I keep hoping someone else will do it for me. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note only semi-unrelated, Saturday morning was spent making phone reservations for various hotels and the like. My first call of the morning, to a hotel in Hiroshima, left me in a sparkly mood as the woman I was speaking to didn't start trying to speak English with me until I told her my name. "Ah?! Nico-sama? Nico-sama desu ka? Ah." At that point Saturdays and twenty-fives started being bandied about as I could hear the stress level in her voice slowly climb despite the fact I was still carrying on in J-go, same as before. A lovely and unexpected compliment of sorts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114223378589757784?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114223378589757784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114223378589757784&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114223378589757784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114223378589757784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/03/weekends.html' title='Weekends'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114188586899393233</id><published>2006-03-09T15:29:00.001+09:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T00:49:37.962+09:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flotsam'/><title type='text'>Happy Days</title><content type='html'>It doesn't take much to put a spring in my step or a grin on my face, and what did it for me yesterday was the whoop of excitement and surprise I got from the boy I've been crushing on when I said I would attend a certain party. It's always nice to be getting the love, from whomever it may be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114188586899393233?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114188586899393233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114188586899393233&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114188586899393233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114188586899393233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/03/happy-days.html' title='Happy Days'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114170538531247270</id><published>2006-03-07T13:14:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T13:23:05.323+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleepless Nights</title><content type='html'>Already it is a week into March and other than work more than I would if I had any say in the matter and an excellent game of bowling (which really depends on your standards.  Mine, being low, means that I was ecstatic over having bowled a 158.) and being thrown off a mechanical bull, I have done very little of interest.  It got so bad, I was even taking work home with me -- Friday night I was working on school stuff until nearly 12 before I quit for the day, only to resume again on Saturday and Sunday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is also the matter of my parental units' impending visit.  Only 12 more days before they descend upon my paradise and start asking questions about why everything is the way it is in Japan in loud and oblivious voices.  I think I have been here too long, as the thing that is stressing me out the most is the change in volume my palace is going to undergo.  I am looking forward to the visit as much as I am dreading it though, as it will be a good chance to show off where I live and work, the friends I have, and how passable my Japanese has become.  I have to admit to also looking forward to having someone else cook dinner on the days I am working, as well as an excuse to do some touring in the region.  Nothing beats the external impetus you can't quell for motivation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do think I will be investing in separate hotel rooms though -- one, for privacy; and two, for peace as my father snores loud enough to be heard through multiple walls and doors...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114170538531247270?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114170538531247270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114170538531247270&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114170538531247270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114170538531247270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/03/sleepless-nights.html' title='Sleepless Nights'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114125910667556928</id><published>2006-03-02T08:57:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-03-07T13:28:11.866+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Dating in a Foreign Land</title><content type='html'>Dating in a foreign country is not in and of itself all that bad, although if you were to look at the potentials I have been set up with, by and large you might believe otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very lucky to have a friend like Hiro, a friend who cares so much about his wife's happiness, he is willing to go to any lengths to try and make her friends stay in country. He was very excited when Steve and Yuki got married a few years ago, although heartbroken when he discovered they would be leaving Japan, which is how the debacle that is my dating history in Japan has turned out. You see, if the potential mate is fluent in English, as Yuki is, it becomes far too easy for them to leave the country, so Hiro had taken it upon himself to find me non-English speaking boys. I am not fluent in Japanese. I can't even begin to try and fake it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So one of the first men was a friend of Hiro's (the first problem Hiro has is a lack of friends who are single) who spoke some English, but not too much. Just enough that we could probably swing some basic conversation. However, he had a girlfriend, or two, and some peccadilloes best left unmementioned -- suffice it to say, not qualities you might look for in a mate, let alone a date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although, Hiro made sure to reassure me that he was perfectly willing to marry whichever girlfriend happened to get pregnant first, and he would probably give up on the extra-curricular peccadilloes when he got married, or at least by the time the child is born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, reassuring. Curiously enough, I let him pass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the while Hiro is attempting to encourage me to go out with Peccy, as he shall henceforth be known, he is also trying to get me to go out with a man a picked up at a sayonara party. I didn't so much pick him up as have him follow me home (not as stalkerish as it sounds, really). We had kind of hit it off at the party and were cycling home together, all the while I was assuming he would split off when he needed to, but he didn't. He cycled the entire 45 minutes back to Yodoe with me, where a little fooling around was enjoyed (nothing like being woken up the next morning by a phone call from the parents with a man sleeping next to you in bed).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He seemed alright, and Hiro thought so too, however he had a girlfriend. He told me about this a week later because he felt guilty, and then proceeded to tell me about how much he doesn't like his girlfriend. Right. Quality stuff. I later discovered from Hiro that this particular man may or may not marry her because her father gives him ramen. So Ramen boy also bit the dust. Asking for a spine of sorts isn't really too much, is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Hiro's friend Oyama also decided to play. I was invited to Oyama's wife's birthday party along with Hiro and Diane in order to meet Oyama's first proffering. The blinker who shall be called Bucho. He seemed perfectly alright, although a little nervous, until you tried to talk to him. It was then you would be hypnotized by the rapid-fire blinking he did while he spoke, causing you to lose all focus on the words that may have been coming out of his mouth. It induced me into such trance-like states I would be sitting there staring when he'd stopped, only to realize I had been asked a question and had no idea what it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oyama's second offering was the layabout who apparently spoke very good English (Oyama was unaware of the Hiro requirements in a man, apparently) having done an exchange in the US for a while. But this was a man who was unable to hold a job. He would get a job, work for a little while, and then quit. It seemed his life's ambition didn't extend beyond playing guitar at home while his family took care of him. Hmmm, I didn't think so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 2 that followed were found by Hiro at enkais of sorts and led to him phoning me late at night, passing the phone to a random Japanese man so I could say my name and the appropriate aisatsu in Japanese, Hiro taking the phone back, and asking in front of the said man, "well, what do you think?" Right, because a very short awkward phone conversation always leads to the best of first impressions.  Curiously enough, these 2 turned out to be the most normal of the lot, and as far as the normal course of action, they stood the normal course and ended up not being particularly interested in me or my stumbling, fumbling Japanese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is what lead to the ceasefire, the permanent halt to future set-ups and a swearing never to answer a late night phone call from Hiro again.  His heart is in the right place, but I think he needs a new hobby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114125910667556928?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114125910667556928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114125910667556928&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114125910667556928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114125910667556928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/03/dating-in-foreign-land.html' title='Dating in a Foreign Land'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114111337816627591</id><published>2006-02-28T16:46:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-02-28T16:56:18.186+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My!</title><content type='html'>This morning, it was monkeys.  Last year, it was bears.  You would think Saihaku was situated in the middle of a zoo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year, the bear sighting led to the distribution of bells to each little group of students who make their way to school together.  Some were even lucky enough to receive personal alarms, made very obvious by the "accidental" triggering throughout the halls the day they were distributed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months ago, I spotted a tanuki wandering around the vending machines in front of the local grocery store, perhaps hoping to come across some delicious canned hot coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, this morning, a phone call from the town hall informed us that monkeys (perhaps fierce, maybe even rabid!?!) had been spotted by Miyamae bridge, and asked that all the teachers ask all the students whether they themselves had spotted any of the thieving violent creatures.  I should think the kids wouldn't tell -- imagine being able to come to school and say, "The monkey stole my homework."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(One of the eikaiwa woman told a story about coming home one day and finding a monkey contentedly eating up all the food offerings that had been made to a somewhat recently departed grandfather, mowing down on rice and mikans as it were, so keep those doors locked folks!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114111337816627591?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114111337816627591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114111337816627591&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114111337816627591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114111337816627591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/02/lions-and-tigers-and-bears-oh-my.html' title='Lions and Tigers and Bears, Oh My!'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114101874347860527</id><published>2006-02-27T14:25:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T14:39:03.490+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Party Party Party Party</title><content type='html'>... to quote a Bran Van 3000 song (which I sadly was unable to use Saturday as I ran out of time). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Chavs were out in quality Saturday night, although I expect some were unintentional.  Cian, Pete, Diane and Gray made quite the fashion oblivious quartet, looking more like a group of scally teenagers than the adults they really are.  My first sighting of Diane, seated next to an equally style-challenged Cian led to uncontrolled howls of laughter on my part, as she had so well-personified the essence of the event, and seated next to Cian as she was, I couldn't help but get the sneaking suspicion something was bound to be up later... (For my part, I only went so far as to wear a plumber's jacket and gold hoop earrings, having plans with potential for later in the evening.  Explaining the whole essence of Chav may have been a little difficult in a second language, and so I thought it best not to push my luck.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The music was rocking, the beers were flowing (straight out of the can, naturally, as who'd want to unnecessarily class it up with a glass that could later be a weapon), Gray was dancing, Cian was singing, Pete was DJing, and Diane was just perfect.  All in all, it was a good night made all the better by the quality friends I was surrounded with.  As Diane later commented, it was as if it was our party, and everyone else was there just to make up the numbers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Hi! High? party was followed with good conversation in Missile as various people drifted in and out, followed by even more good conversation as plans came to fruition.  And it shall be left at that for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114101874347860527?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114101874347860527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114101874347860527&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114101874347860527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114101874347860527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/02/party-party-party-party.html' title='Party Party Party Party'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114076553683492080</id><published>2006-02-24T16:13:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T16:18:56.846+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Things</title><content type='html'>It was one of those days that where someone tells you something that could prove to be quite fabulous, but since nothing has been decided yet, things are still up in the air, it could fall to pieces instead of actually coming to fruition.  But it was so good, you just want desperately to tell people, but you can't because then you will just look the fool if nothing comes of it. Yep, it was good news, preceded by loads of fabulous compliments -- the kind of news that leaves you confident and in a sparkly mood all day -- and I can't do a damn thing with the information. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am not really &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; biting and sarcastic, am I?  I mean I know I have moments, but... Really?  Oh well, it really is kind of fun -- certainly more so than being all sunshine, teddy bears and cotton candy fluff all the time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114076553683492080?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114076553683492080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114076553683492080&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114076553683492080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114076553683492080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/02/good-things.html' title='Good Things'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114067207195478698</id><published>2006-02-23T14:01:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-02-23T14:21:11.966+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Flotsam</title><content type='html'>Holy horrible meetings Batman!  I forgot that once again we have approached that time of year when everything must start being discussed down to the minute detail so as to prepare for next year.  Time will be spent poring over the most irrelevant information, delving into the depths of things like 秋芸実集会 or 参観日, the 6th grade 送り会 or the items students have in their pencil cases.  And nothing new will be decided.  Options will be bandied about, suggestions lobbed into the mix, and in the end, they will decide to do it the exact same way as last year, despite numerous complaints and requests.  And all the while, I will be leaning back in the chair, banging my head against the wall, thinking, "WHY AM I HERE???" and, "If I knock myself out, I won't have to endure this anymore..."  You can only imagine the pain I suffer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hostage negotiations appear to be over, as Pete yesterday sent a message saying he had decided to drop both the Gorillaz and Jamiroquai from his set.  But you see, now I have been planning on doing without, and I am not sure I will be using them either... Such a waste, such a waste. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At dinner last night with a friend, I realized how much my head has shifted.  She watched some Japanese girls walk by, and commented how much she would like to look like them, or at least be that thin.  My automatic reaction was to say, "Never.  I do not want to look like a Japanese girl.  Thinner, sure, but that's it.  And not that thin anyways."  Where would all my good bits go if I looked like a J-girl?  I like having hips, breasts, actual curves...  Which is quite a leap from where my head was when I got here 5 years ago.  Self-satisfaction is a beautiful thing, provided I don't venture over into the realm of the self-obsessed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cookies, cookies and more cookies.  Last night I made my finally delivery of cookies to my cute waiter, who rapidly scarfed them down, followed by much gratitude and bowing, as well as apologies for having to work until 5am on weekends, and for having caught influenza last week, thus unable to be at work when I came by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;PS.  Due to Ted's recent outing of my blog, which had remained pleasantly unknown until about a week ago, I feel the presence of lurkers out there.  Stop in and say hi sometime...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114067207195478698?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114067207195478698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114067207195478698&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114067207195478698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114067207195478698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/02/flotsam.html' title='Flotsam'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114041914708430914</id><published>2006-02-20T15:53:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-02-20T16:05:47.103+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Hostage Negotiations</title><content type='html'>Over the weekend, I started once again aurally poring through my music in an attempt to cull a decent party set for next Saturday night.  Out of concern that Pete and I may repeat some stuff, leaving me a little short as he is before me, I contacted him to find out what he has been thinking about.  The conversation was going well, no conflicts, until... &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;"Do you know JET?"&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"You mean, 'Are you gonna be my girl?' "&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;"Yeah, that's it."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt; "Nooooo, I'm playing that!"&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;"Really?  Oh, well, I was just re-listening to my music and came across it, thought it would be good."&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"Noooo..."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;"Oh, alright then, you can have it."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;"I'll see if I can't come up with something else so I can give it back to you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;And I started looking for something else.  Until I got the email that said, &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;"I think I might also throw in the Gorillaz."&lt;/span&gt;  to which I hurriedly sent back, &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;"Not 'Feel Good, Inc.'?"&lt;/span&gt;  This prompts Pete to phone, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;"Of course!! It's the best song off the album!!" &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt; "I was really hoping you might have meant some of their older stuff."  &lt;/span&gt;"And Jamiroquai, I thought I might throw in some Jamiroquai as well."&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt; "Which album?"&lt;/span&gt; "'Dynamite.'" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;"Really?  Crap.  Then I am definitely keeping JET." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Who knows how many others will fall... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;At least Pete has only got a short set -- I have a chance to keep some of my other stuff at least, partly because he doesn't have it, and partly because he won't have the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114041914708430914?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114041914708430914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114041914708430914&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114041914708430914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114041914708430914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/02/hostage-negotiations.html' title='Hostage Negotiations'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114015987014340042</id><published>2006-02-17T15:55:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-02-17T16:06:33.616+09:00</updated><title type='text'>The Good Influence That is Me..</title><content type='html'>...managed to get Ted out and about last night. Well, sort of. For Local Legend Tim's birthday (he behaves like he could still be in his twenties, so really, the number doesn't matter), Ted called and invited me to help celebrate Tim's birthday party with delightful dishes in Kashmir. Sneaking up on the restaurant, with all the lights out, I was a little concerned that I had somehow gotten information wrong and was delighted to see Tim's fluffy hair in a back corner. Hiroko had opened up the joint just for Tim and Zack, and I was lucky enough (thanks to Ted) to be able to join in. It was very much a night for the boys, and I just happened to be in the mix, loving and laughing at every lewd and luscious minute of it. Joined by Jen, who brought cakes, the party atmosphere of good friends and conversation carried on until we finally gave in to let Hiroko relax in peace. Heading off to Jazz Inn for quality jazz, mellow moods and smoky atmosphere, we lost Jen, but made up numbers with Diane who waited patiently and Cian who showed up later. All in all, one of those nights that make you laugh and smile when you think about it later, which leads to the blog entry for today, and also leads to my good influence on Ted, who might otherwise be inclined to spend far too many hours on the inside rather than out with the rest of us fools.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, does this make you wanna do it again Ted? I'm up for it...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114015987014340042?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114015987014340042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114015987014340042&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114015987014340042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114015987014340042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/02/good-influence-that-is-me.html' title='The Good Influence That is Me..'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-114004778927431765</id><published>2006-02-16T08:47:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T08:56:29.286+09:00</updated><title type='text'>It's All About the Cookies, Baby.</title><content type='html'>Another rousing Valentine's day (if you don't mind hyperbole) over and done with.  Technically it was over yesterday, but I was waiting for the good, good loving from the homefront overseas before I got on with it all; as well as the extra deliveries that had to wait for the Wednesday night.  Making un-secret but surprise Valentine's deliveries of quasi-homemade cookies (I had to mix the eggs and butter with the mix, and then not burn them) to good friends who were around, I got a chance to visit and share the love with the good people.  Also got a little bit of choco-goodness of my own, in the form of a brownie and a little box of Godivas.  And so, a final holler in true J-land style of Happy V.D. to all who want it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love ya!&lt;br /&gt;Nico&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-114004778927431765?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/114004778927431765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=114004778927431765&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114004778927431765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/114004778927431765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/02/its-all-about-cookies-baby.html' title='It&apos;s All About the Cookies, Baby.'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113981484573080166</id><published>2006-02-13T16:11:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-02-23T14:23:27.883+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Frustration</title><content type='html'>Over the weekend, I dug out an application for the education department I had printed so as to look over it and start filling it out. Sadly, since I started university (and finished, as there was a 8 year time span with a couple of years of vacation in the middle) and now, the requirements have changed and I have discovered I am lacking in several areas. Nothing better than discovering that what was a sure thing has all gone to hell. It may have to be the foreign service...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113981484573080166?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113981484573080166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113981484573080166&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113981484573080166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113981484573080166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/02/frustration.html' title='Frustration'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113955072617050445</id><published>2006-02-10T14:43:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-02-10T14:52:06.183+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Tiredness</title><content type='html'>When you are bone weary and can barely keep your eyes open, but can't sleep until late at night, regardless of how difficult it is to keep your eyes open.  When you sit at your desk in the staffroom and are watching the clock, hoping for the hour arm to sit at 4 o'clock, but all the while knowing it doesn't matter as someone has scheduled a meeting at 4:30 that you are expected to attend.  When you are busy but unable to do anything to help it along, because your classroom is being used for a conference, forcing you to sit and wait, well aware you are going to have to bring it all home with you and do it on the weekend.  When you know that you are being ripped off -- a weekend that should be a three day being stuffed into a normal two, all because Saturdays count as part of the work week, and knowing you won't get another chance at one for nearly 2 months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, when the time comes and the weekend officially hits, when you have escaped work into the freedom of your own home or the great outdoors, when you have dropped your bag inside the doorway and pulled on some well-worn jeans, it all just falls away.  The spring is back, the music is on and thumping, and you can't help howling along with it while sliding down the hallways and across the kitchen in your woolly socks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just over two more hours, that's all I have to make it through...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113955072617050445?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113955072617050445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113955072617050445&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113955072617050445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113955072617050445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/02/tiredness.html' title='Tiredness'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113945332053493148</id><published>2006-02-09T11:43:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T11:48:40.533+09:00</updated><title type='text'>And What Did You Do Yesterday?</title><content type='html'>I went to work and cut out loads of paper hearts, planned a few classes, cleaned up the classroom and bolted at 4 o'clock on the dot.  Then, I went to my Japanese lesson, which is really mostly a person who attempts to explain things I don't understand in Japanese.  I drove in snow, walked in snow and followed it up with a dinner at my preferred cafe, flirting with my preferred waiter and chatting with a lovely friend.  Hot chocolates truly hit the spot with yesterday's snow.  And then I gave my phone number to my preferred waiter after a conversation about a Harley Davidson heritage soft-tail that is currently in storage due to the slightly less than ideal motorcycle weather and green gage (which is apparently a fruit that gets made into jams?  Seems to be a British thing as I have never heard of them before).  All in all, a good day.  Now, just have to wait a little and see if I was perhaps too subtle...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113945332053493148?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113945332053493148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113945332053493148&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113945332053493148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113945332053493148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/02/and-what-did-you-do-yesterday.html' title='And What Did You Do Yesterday?'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113936819091148371</id><published>2006-02-08T11:58:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-02-08T12:09:50.926+09:00</updated><title type='text'>When I Was Young</title><content type='html'>When I was in grade 7, I remember having to write something for our "yearbook" about where I thought I would be in twenty years.  If my memory isn't failing me, and I am pretty sure I am good on this front, I wrote that I would be "32 and crazy."  Well, only one and a half years left until I hit the 32 part, but as it stands, I think I was probably off the mark on the other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a kid, I thought it was great to be crazy, and I still do (not locked up in a padded room crazy, just nuts enough to do the things that frighten you a little).  Some of the most interesting people I know fall into that category, and keep me well and truly entertained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been getting comments from various sources over the past few years that have been leading me to doubt my own level of crazy -- in fact, to doubt whether I have not escaped from it entirely.  I have been told several times that I am normal, and even by one person on a multitude of occasions that I am the most normal person they know.  Which could be good, but doesn't thrill me.  Although, if you live in a world of crazy people, wouldn't being normal make you a freak in your own right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, neither here nor there.  I am just sitting here thinking about what I should do and what I want to do when I return home, and I got thrown off on the tangent of what I wanted to be when I was a kid, and what I used to tell people I would be.  I wanted to be a teacher (something I do now, after a fashion), Prime Minister of Canada, and an astronaut.  Canada's lack of a space programme makes the whole astronaut thing a little bit of a reach, but hey, you never know how the whole PM thing might work out...  I think I might be a little too... practical? to be the PM though, occasionally too direct, which could potentially lead to serious rifts in international relations.  It could be better for the country in general if I don't aspire to the upper echelons of bureaucratic chicanery.  Could be better for me too, especially considering how much I like sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still don't have a firm idea what to do when I re-enter the atmosphere and join the rest of the world, so please, stop asking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113936819091148371?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113936819091148371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113936819091148371&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113936819091148371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113936819091148371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/02/when-i-was-young.html' title='When I Was Young'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113921007048573387</id><published>2006-02-06T15:34:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T16:14:30.500+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Weather Obsession</title><content type='html'>I am not entirely sure why, but ever since coming to Japan, I seem to be fostering a mild obsession about the weather.  It was never a big deal with me at home; at least, not to the extent that an entire conversation, or a blog posting, or an email could be solely about the weather, but I seem to have reached that unfortunate point. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to point out that talking about the weather, or more specifically the temperature, is one of the easiest conversations to have with someone in Japan.  In fact, some of the earliest words I can remember learning were the words for hot, cold, warm and cool.  People that are nervous about talking to you often find the weather an easy way to start, or even in just in passing they will throw out a "寒いですね！" to which you can easily respond in kind, maybe adding a comment about what the weather forecast is calling for in the next few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to think it was just because I was a foreigner, but as I have come to understand more Japanese I realize that is not the case.  I often overhear conversations not directed at me, between Japanese who are conversing at length about the weather. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I blame it on the weather itself.  And the houses, the lack of central heating, the folly that is considered insulation, the single glazed windows, the lack of weather stripping around the doors...  It's not that the weather is all that horrible (well, it does get pretty damn hot and humid in the summer so it just depends on your taste), it is just the Japanese mentality that you must ガマン through it.  However, I fail to understand how forcing people to endure the weather -- ostensibly to make them stronger -- is effective when all they do is complain about it.  Incessantly.  Complaining.  My mind boggles as I lose all feeling in my fingers and toes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, I think the weather is to blame for my going out more often in the winter.  Shops, restaurants and the like always have heating on, and it works just as well for me to let someone else pay the bill while I mellow out with a hot chocolate and a good friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113921007048573387?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113921007048573387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113921007048573387&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113921007048573387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113921007048573387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/02/weather-obsession.html' title='Weather Obsession'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113895206636447349</id><published>2006-02-03T16:29:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T16:34:26.376+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Groundhog Day</title><content type='html'>While eating breakfast this morning, I was watching snowflakes fall into my garden.  They weren't coming in any great number, in fact, the first one I spotted barely caught my eye -- I thought it was surely dust or something.  Thirty seconds or so later, I spotted another.  It was a full minute or so before I caught a glimpse of a third.  All the while the sun was shining down and the air was warming up.  I didn't even wear my coat to work this morning ( I carried it -- not that much of a fool).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, before checking my email, I read about our Canadian groundhogs and the cross country agreement that winter is nearly over.  Then, the snow started to come down a little more earnestly.  About an hour ago, it started to stick with dedication, rather than melting into oblivion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much for going jogging, or wearing my party shoes out on the town later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113895206636447349?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113895206636447349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113895206636447349&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113895206636447349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113895206636447349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/02/groundhog-day.html' title='Groundhog Day'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113875859292208978</id><published>2006-02-01T10:22:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T10:49:52.936+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain</title><content type='html'>It's one of those grey, rainy days, where not even the rain has enough energy to come down with any sense of ambition.  One of those days where you belong in bed with a book and some music and roaring, crackling fire to keep you entertained.  One of those days where you just feel idle and aimless, and are probably better off not being at work, as it will be blatant to everyone you are doing nought but avoiding work.  One of those days where you hit the snooze button over and over again until the last possible moment, all the while glancing over at your phone and pondering how easy it would be just to call in sick, or even to take the morning off...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But instead, I dragged my bleary self out of my too brief hibernation and made it to work (only 2 minutes late, as I was muddling about trying to protect my basket of school supplies from getting wet in the drear), where I have, despite all my better instincts, managed to actually get some work done.  In fact, I suspect I may be caught up until next Monday, if not Tuesday.  And now, the life enegy sucked out of me by the grey and a very active recess break, I am going to kick back with a mikan and some chocolate and space case the weather.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113875859292208978?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113875859292208978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113875859292208978&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113875859292208978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113875859292208978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/02/rain.html' title='Rain'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113832828303376204</id><published>2006-01-27T11:12:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-02-23T14:33:33.406+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Hiatus</title><content type='html'>I feel like I should take one, as I have been busy at work -- planning for the open class, and now for the self-introduction festival I'll be having for the 6th graders -- and at home (cleaned some stuff out of my closets last night and did some laundry, as well as go jogging and study Japanese for an hour or so and watch the last episode of West Wing Season 5 on DVD) and my mind feels completely dried of it's creative juices. Never mind that I spend nearly 10 minutes a day thinking about my cute waiter (who'd want to give that up? definitely got different creative juices flowing there. and writing that -- just feels dirty even though I don't intend it that way.) and going out with friends and singing horribly at karaoke, and the cute waiter again, and music, music, and more music, and the guilt I feel for writing this when I should be doing some kind of work. So, I'll cut out the guilt part, stop now, and go back to the good stuff. See you when the inspiration hits!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113832828303376204?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113832828303376204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113832828303376204&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113832828303376204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113832828303376204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/01/hiatus.html' title='Hiatus'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113817178063544311</id><published>2006-01-25T15:48:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-01-25T15:50:21.466+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Aaargh</title><content type='html'>I can think of nothing worse than having all your work done and being forced to wait around for a meeting that starts when you are actually supposed to be done for the day, all the while knowing you will not be partcipating in the least. Dammit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113817178063544311?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113817178063544311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113817178063544311&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113817178063544311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113817178063544311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/01/aaargh.html' title='Aaargh'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113814615518371296</id><published>2006-01-25T08:29:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-01-25T08:43:49.396+09:00</updated><title type='text'>The Disaster that is Me</title><content type='html'>I am not the tidiest person in the world by any means. I have never been good at getting my stuff together and hidden nicely away. Generally, I tend towards sprawl, and I would like to place some of the blame firmly on my spacious living quarters and some on the winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the winter, I get changed in the rooms that are warm, which means at night in my bedroom, and in the morning, I use the bathroom. However my closet is my spare room which is far too cold to venture into during either evening or dawn hours (dawn is probably a bit of a stretch; 7 or 8 or 9 or 10 is dawn as far as I am concerned) which means clothes either end up laid out on the floor at the end of my futon, or tossed in the laundry basket. And once the laundry is all dried and done, I generally toss it on to the desk in the kitchen, as it never dries until the heat has been on for a few hours at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently (well, how recently can 2 weeks ago be?) I returned home from a trip to my other home with 2 massive suitcases, utterly exhausted and so dropped the suitcases in the hall, where they still lay, and went straight to bed. The next day, I ripped into one of them to find something to wear, and that is how it has been going ever since. As I walk down the hall every morning, I dip into the suitcases to find something to wear, or I accompany it with something out of my various stockpiles of clothes. Again, I really have only to move it around the corner into my spare room to get it out of sight and start my whole process of putting everything away but... Being the procrastinator that I am, I am making the project bigger and bigger in my mind, deciding that I should start culling my old clothes now, figuring out what to get rid of before the return home, which means this should all come to a head in March. Promising, isn't it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there is actually a good reason for me not allowing people into my apartment right now, and I am not just making it up when I say that, "no, you really can't come in."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113814615518371296?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113814615518371296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113814615518371296&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113814615518371296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113814615518371296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/01/disaster-that-is-me.html' title='The Disaster that is Me'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113772360931328400</id><published>2006-01-20T11:11:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T11:20:09.330+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Timing is Everything</title><content type='html'>It's one of those days when I can feel myself becoming more and more ill as the day progresses.  And naturally, it is one of those days that I can't take off, and before a weekend I don't want to miss out on.  The big day being Monday means that the last 打ち合わせ時間 will be today, before the weekend.  Everyone, except for me, being paranoid about what is going to be happening wants to discuss it to the most minute detail.  I just want to curl up under a warm blanket with some hot cider and good drugs, and go to sleep for hours and hours in the hopes this bug flees from me.  And the weekend, well that is just jam-packed with good stuff too.  Tonight involves a brandied Christmas pudding and a friend's good cooking, before tomorrow's venturing out to see Arsenic and Old Lace in To-shi.  Sunday is all planned out as well - a mellow afternoon in one of the upstairs booths at my favourite cafe with the aforementioned friend, studying Japanese amidst デッカイ cookies and delicious drinks.  And naturally, I can't do anything about Monday either, what with 54 people from Western Tottori coming to view the class which is making everyone paranoid (now that I have a plan, I feel much better about it, just wish I could get everyone else feeling the same way so that I could go to bed).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113772360931328400?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113772360931328400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113772360931328400&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113772360931328400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113772360931328400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/01/timing-is-everything.html' title='Timing is Everything'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113756897105791568</id><published>2006-01-18T16:18:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-01-18T16:22:51.066+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah blah blah</title><content type='html'>One of the beautiful things of living in a foreign land where you don't speak the mother tongue is the ability to tune it all out.  Fading in and out of conversations at will is so much easier when you aren't always sure what is being said.  When you do understand the language, it always creeps in under the door and you are subconsciously tuned in to anything potentialy interesting.  Sometimes, the tune out comes in the middle of my conversations completely unbidden, and I find myself doing the "whuzzahuh?!"  But then, there are the times when it becomes a survival tool, such as staff meetings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113756897105791568?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113756897105791568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113756897105791568&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113756897105791568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113756897105791568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/01/blah-blah-blah.html' title='Blah blah blah'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113738838806516952</id><published>2006-01-16T14:02:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-01-16T14:14:43.656+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Do, do, do at the Do! Do! Do!</title><content type='html'>Conversation with Diane and Sarah ranged from work and snow to grey hairs and pride and being off men; the skinniness of Hiro and the deliciousness of food; smoking, excercising and other life choices for your health; participation in and ditching of social activities; sex and christening and the very 久しぶり nature it; obligations and disepensations; shiny party clothes and sparkly body parts and strappy party shoes and the creating of occasions to wear them; "It's cute" and grammar revision. And then there was Pete and Cian. Promises of golf and fucking, although not necessarily at the same time; concurrence that in fact people are more likely to jump bones right before they leave; years of abstinence in hopes of promises fulfilled; hot birds and too wearing in Japanese; karaoke plans that don't happen; decisions to create fun music compilations for the restaurant featuring quality tracks from "Dirty Dancing;" sempais and kohais and verbal laziness and required duties; venturing forth into the territory of, "it's sexy" during a friends well-timed trip to a washroom; party invitations and disappointing declinings; finally introductions are made and small joys are had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again a good night followed by a relaxing weekend of random chores and work obligations and general idling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have yet to unpack my suitcases and remove them from the front hall. I get dressed in the morning by picking various articles out of whichever pile I am stumbling through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113738838806516952?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113738838806516952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113738838806516952&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113738838806516952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113738838806516952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/01/do-do-do-at-do-do-do.html' title='Do, do, do at the Do! Do! Do!'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113713917008283369</id><published>2006-01-13T16:49:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-01-13T16:59:30.106+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>..due to a creative dearth.  All my energies and creative juices are now directed to keeping my job.  This doesn't mean my position is under threat - at least not while I am here -  but for future ALTs, as my position may be cut due to budgetary concerns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In order to keep my position in the school after I am gone,  I have been volunteered to teach the demonstration English in the Elementary School class for all of western Tottori.  Very exciting.  No pressure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foolishly, I chose to have it with a 6th grade class.  It is not the class which is a problem as they are fairly energetic (or perhaps I should say, not entirely apathetic?) and the teacher is pretty game for everything.  My problem is the syllabus, which states this open class will be the second, and last, class of a 2 class unit on New Year's games.  I am having a wee bit of difficulty figuring out how to make it last, still be interesting, and hopefully use some English beyond eye, nose, left, and right.  Currently leaning towards throwing in a quiz in Japanese regarding other countries New Year's customs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I deserve at least one cocktail tonight...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113713917008283369?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113713917008283369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113713917008283369&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113713917008283369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113713917008283369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/01/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113702472762427872</id><published>2006-01-12T09:02:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-01-12T09:12:07.653+09:00</updated><title type='text'>大shock!</title><content type='html'>Three weeks plus off on relaxing warm vacation and mellowing English conversation, and now, thrown rapidly back into the mix of work and cold and Japanese incomprehension.  Not ready for my system to handle it, and looking desperately forward to 5 o'clock tomorrow night, as I should be off by then. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mild and indirect disapproval from various sources with regards to my having taken Tuesday off, as I arrived back in Nanbu 11:30 Monday night.  I however have held back on relaying the information to all regarding my activities on Tuesday (banking and a visit to Sakaiminato's immigration office, both of which needed to be completed before 3 o'clock, and grocery shopping, as there was absolutely no fresh groceries in my fridge) as I believe that as long as I am responsible enough to inform everyone beforehand that I will be taking vacation days, what I do with them is of no concern to anyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once read a quote that suggested something to the effect, the free-est person is one who can turn down a dinner invitation without giving a reason why.  My reasons are my own, and if I believe them to be important enough to pursue, then justification to others is merely a waste of my own time and effort.  But then, most people that know me already realize that they will not get me to do something I don't want to do anyways, so there you have it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113702472762427872?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113702472762427872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113702472762427872&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113702472762427872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113702472762427872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/01/shock.html' title='大shock!'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113619700678854195</id><published>2006-01-02T19:12:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2006-01-02T19:16:46.803+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Happiness</title><content type='html'>The New Year has sprung, calling for resolutions, revolutions, and revelations.  None of which I shall pay any mind to.  Well, maybe the revolutions, but resolutions, despite my firm dedication to maintaining an utter lack of resolve about most things, aren't my bag. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a wish for merry wishes to all my luvverly friends and family in 2006es rapidly progressing year.  Well aware it's only just begun, but also aware it will be nearly over before I have even had to time buckle up my seatbelt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113619700678854195?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113619700678854195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113619700678854195&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113619700678854195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113619700678854195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2006/01/happiness.html' title='Happiness'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113508017525087386</id><published>2005-12-20T21:00:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-12-20T21:02:55.260+09:00</updated><title type='text'>4am</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113508017525087386?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113508017525087386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113508017525087386&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113508017525087386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113508017525087386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2005/12/4am.html' title='4am'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113492474687036036</id><published>2005-12-19T01:51:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-12-19T01:52:26.880+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Luxe</title><content type='html'>Silk clothing is niiiice...  Very, very niiiiiiice....  The 'nog will never be the same.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113492474687036036?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113492474687036036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113492474687036036&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113492474687036036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113492474687036036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2005/12/luxe.html' title='Luxe'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17250292.post-113476600555942477</id><published>2005-12-17T05:41:00.000+09:00</published><updated>2005-12-17T05:46:45.560+09:00</updated><title type='text'>Home on the Range</title><content type='html'>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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17250292-113476600555942477?l=circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/feeds/113476600555942477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17250292&amp;postID=113476600555942477&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113476600555942477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17250292/posts/default/113476600555942477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://circusfreaksintraining.blogspot.com/2005/12/home-on-range.html' title='Home on the Range'/><author><name>Nico</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06993224660404783695</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PfF-Ryn55_g/SP3jitQ72ZI/AAAAAAAAAAU/aoAOclG4j_I/S220/DSC01347.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
