Blurbs

Amelie

2009-11-19T20:14:00.000-08:00

failure is human destiny.

failure teaches us that life is but a draft...a long rehearsal for a show that will never play. - amelie

a man who knows proverbs can't be all bad.

one swallow doesn't make...a summer

practice makes....perfect

curiosity....killed the cat

haste....makes waste

rolling stone....gathers no moss

it's a sin....to steal a pin

absence makes....the heart grow fonder

Everyday Japan

2009-07-12T03:08:00.000-07:00

star potatoes

2009-07-07T21:30:00.000-07:00

The strangest (okay, not the strangest) thing happened yesterday. My lunch was served with star shaped kerage (its like a potato knish). I thought..."oh, how cute. It's Japan. They made stars out of my potato." But then I noticed that in my soup - they had cut the meat into star shapes as well. Hmmm? Well, I guess it's a set meal. But then upon opening my yogurt container, sitting inside were 2 pieces of pineapple cut out in the shape of stars as well.

It was a Wednesday.

I had a sneaking suspicion I was missing out on something.

I asked one of my favorite teachers, "what's with the stars" and she told me it was Tanabata. "Oh. Right.... What does that mean?" She explained...

It is a Chinese story that (apparently) everyone celebrates. A long time ago, there was a princess, Orihime (hime means princess) and a man named Hikoboshi (boshi means star). And they loved each other. The King, Orihime's father, would not allow them to be together. Somehow the young lovers were separated by a river (and I'm guessing a curse). But! On the seventh of July, if it is a sunny clear day, the two can cross the river and reunite. But if it is a cloudy rainy day, the two will remain separated until another chance comes the next year.

So, on the seventh of July, the story goes...Orihime and Hikoboshi are two stars in the sky. And, if it's a rainy, cloudy evening the two stars will not be able to cross the river (or milky way) and meet. But if it is a clear evening sky the two stars will be reunited.

I LOVE a good fairytale. This one is no exception. However, I was also told that July 7th it almost always rains. So I wonder if this fairytale is actually some sort of fable, telling children that most of the time, it won't work out if you try to love outside your "class" (be it age or income or any restriction your culture puts on love). But, the magic within this story is that, every once and awhile, it's a sunny day and the two lovers will be reunited. There is hope. Hope and stars.

This kinda takes the whole, you are what you eat thing, a bit far. But I like it. Oishii!

spiderwebs and black underwear

2009-07-06T18:25:00.000-07:00

Such an interesting day so far. Sheesh.

My Aunt Martha finally responded to a quaint email with a simple photo attached. Her response in a nutshell : you’re the ONLY person missing your (favorite) cousin's wedding and hope you don’t regret your decision to return to a jobless, shitty economy. Can’t wait till you’re home.

Fuck.

Then last night I got online to pay my credit card bills which I have been SLAVING over to pay off…and on one credit card they jacked up my APR by 17% and then on my other card threw in about $200 extra in debt. WTF. Don’t panic. I called them today and got the f*ckers to a)reduce my APR back down to 10% and they are reimbursing me about $100 for their mistake HA! b) explain where all the charges came from (skype) and lower my APR.

I wonder why my chest seems to be collapsing in on itself today?

To add insult to injury, the world is throwing every single person in this world that makes me feel inferior at me all at once. Okay, so I feel like a pretty secure person, but there are a few people out there that I haven’t fully sorted out yet. 1) My ex boyfriend. After a 2 year, of what I would call an emotionally abusive/draining, relationship and 4 years since, I still get hung up every time he wants to facebook friend me. I think I have denied him 5 or 6 times this year – succumbed once, only to cancel it seconds later. This time he sent a message attached…”why is it so hard for us to be friends?”. Um…because of all the times you told me or showed me that I wasn’t worthy of your time or love….how bout that? About 3 months ago I sent him a pretty straight forward message explaining that though he is adorable and witty he mostly just annoys the shit out of me and that I would rather him not be in my everyday mind and vice versa. If he had something important to say, my gmail was always available to him. His constant requests to facebook me implies a sense of disrespect for my wishes and just goes to show I am dealing with a petulant child who just wants his way. He wants his toys but only to throw them on the floor and forget about them. Well I wipe my hands clean of this!
2) Good ole college competition. Why can’t I get past feeling so incredibly inferior to this one girl from college? Her and I were toe to toe on our projects and yet, she is an interior designer, married with child and I am….just trying to figure out where I put my head in 2004. Her face appears all over my facebook reminding me of these old tender memories. Hence why it would be gravely unwise to add an ex with such flagrance for fairweatherness.
3)Salt to the wound…upon doing some emotional cutting (facebook photo stalking of said college competition) I came across a picture that she was tagged in. I tried to see if I could recognize anyone else in the photo and low and behold there was a girl who I fell out of friendship with. Not just fell like lost touch, fell as in was ousted and ousted right back. This girl and I were good friends in school until it became apparent the only reason why we were friends was because of her interest in my then boyfriend now ex boyfriend who won’t stop stalking me on facebook. I don’t have that many friends that I have stopped being friends with but she is one of them. Maybe the only one I can think of off the top of my head. And I can’t help but wonder…why? Why are there relationships that cannot be reconciled? Why are there people that you just don’t get along with? I know it takes all kinds but if you were friends at one time…how does that change?

And more important how did I end up in this triangle of funk? Talk about walking through spiderwebs.

My coworker is wearing black underwear under his light linen pants. I just shake my head.

Michael Jackson died.

2009-06-25T22:20:00.000-07:00

I think death is overwhelmingly sad. Mostly because life is so beautiful. But then I remembered all the sorted things that Michael Jackson was involved with and wondered how I should feel about his death. It was weird to have that reaction but I think death makes me realize how insignificant certain things are - I mean he's DEAD.

Granted all those things he did to the children and being a weirdo and everything - does that make his death something a little less that we should mourn? It all plays into this same issues everyone was faced when he was charged with molesting kids....does his star power and the music he gave to the world forgive him of his abuse?

Its all sorted and weird but I feel sad about it. Its MICHAEL FUCKING JACKSON. Weird or not weird, he was at least alive to have an opinion about and now he's DEAD.

Okay...I realize I am getting a little worked up but I just needed to say a few things. I don't like having to grieve silently and singularly.

And further more...everytime I leave the country, someone famous dies....first trip to Europe, Berry White, third trip with Katie - come back, Anna Nicole Smith then son. Now - Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, and MICHAEL JACKSON! This last one is going to take a little while to figure out.

In the land of the technologically advanced, dust-off still wows.

2009-06-24T17:43:00.001-07:00

Am I really in the land of the technologically advanced?

My co-worker/desk neighbor, just pulled out a can of "dust-off" and sprayed the canned air over his keyboard to clean it. I, along with many a people, have done this to clean the dusk and grit off our computers. Granted, in a quiet office the noise can be startling at most, but the reaction to simple cleaning was incredible. It drew in 3 people, with "ooohhhs" and "aaahhhhs" trying to figure out what he was doing and what that spray could be.

If you have ever used this magical air-spray, maybe you'll know how fun and theraputic it can feel to intensely clean your keyboard so quickly. So I give a simple side nod to how exciting it can be, but these people were acting as if he had pulled out a magic wand and turned his computer into gold.

My neighbor was delighted with the inquiries and simply explained (in Japanese of course - which I was surprised I could understand) "This is good stuff".

I had it in mind to ask to use some, but we're not that well acquainted and I was happy enough to know that it existed in this part of the country.

After spending 10 months (wow almost 11) in this country, I am beginning to wonder if their reaction was genuine or a polite staged act to respond to something with an attention getting volume. Or maybe that is just what I am hoping. Otherwise, this act is one of many reminding me, I live in a really small town in Japan.

quotation marks and merry go rounds

2009-06-14T23:02:00.000-07:00

She said..."we have no mailing system here."

Right.

I wanted to know when we find out who the next ALT is. (I can hear her talking about the new ALT or me because I keep hearing her say ALT and August to the other teachers.) She says, "On Friday we will know, today." (Today is Monday). Ooo-kay.

"So, then we find out today?" I ask.

"We have no mailing system here." Was her response. "So and So was going to send the form to the City Building today, but because we have no mail system we have to wait until someone has mail."

"What?" (I am trying to stay polite and smile but lately I am just aggetated and restrained).

"We cannot find out who it is until we have the form and it is at the city building, we are too busy to go and get the form so when we have mail we can get the form from the city building." She "explains".

"Ah. So, where is the city building?" I ask, imagining perhaps this explainable delay is due to distance....

"Adogawa."

"Oh" I spit out trying to cover up tones and expressions of annoyance. Adogawa is one town away. Perhaps a 7 minute drive, certainly a 10 minute train ride.

I realize this is why it took them so long to tell me where I was going when I came to Japan. Perhaps they don't realize that the person who is getting ready to leave their home in America and travel to Japan is just waiting to find out this information. Perhaps this information will bring them comfort and ease while they are in the midst of saying goodbye to people they love and will not be seeing, some for a year or more. But, the city building is a town away and they don't have a "mailing system".

I was "reassured" that they can check mail on the internet but until they have the actual form they won't know. I find that interesting and slightly less reassuring, considering this information is coming from someone who - after telling me they would email my predecessor to ask for assistance in a matter regarding my home - a week later told me, they were glad I handled the situation on my own because they don't know how to use email.

So, round and round this ALT goes, sitting atop her trusty souless stead, going through the motions and yet going nowhere but in a circle. And all the while, I do this for fun :)

Golden Week Tokyo photos....

2009-06-03T04:48:00.000-07:00

These pictures are backwards in order but oh well....Here is me at the fish market..they cut these giant frozen creatures with a jigsaw! (sorry I look like crap..this is AFTER the all nighter dancing in Tokyo...here it's 6:30am)

My and Mary's Tokyo outfits!

Jesus and Buddha hang out. (this is a comic here in Japan but this is a billboard of the comic)

Waiting to get to Harajuku...we got off the train but now we have to figure out how to get out of the train station!

This is a famous shrine KAMINARIMON (The Thunder Gate) is the main entrance of Senso-ji / Asakusa Kannon.

Me entering the shrine...this is Day 2 of 3.

First night in Tokyo we hit Shibuya (that famous cross walk in Lost in Translation!!)

When in Aladdin's neighborhood...ride the camels! Be careful, they spit.

Entering Disney Sea, right off the overnight bus!

First thing...get the EARS! Me and Mary.

Coming home to America!

2009-05-17T22:31:00.000-07:00

So, I am getting ready to come home to America. Wow, I can hardly believe it has been nearly 10 months! Here is what is going on in my brain about returning....

I have changed.

I had this epiphany when I returned from my trip in Tokyo (remind me to tell you about Tokyo - yikes!) I realized that I have been trying so hard to not let anything change between me and my friends in the states, or me and my family, for fear of what would happen when I returned. But it's too late and nothing I can control. I have changed and when I come home, everything will be the same.

Well, for the most part. I know what Portland looks like and where most things are. I know what my family is like and what they are doing and how they do it and where I fit in. I know what people are thinking (for the most part, societally at best). And though it will be exciting and thrilling to be apart of that same machine again, it will be the same machine I have always known.

Believe me, I'm READY to come home. But a part of me lives here now. I have put some roots down in Japan and it will be hard to say goodbye. Goodbye to not knowing what others are really saying, goodbye to not knowing what I'm really eating (and definitely not knowing how to say what it is). Goodbye to being the only white person on the train. Goodbye to everyone staring at me. Goodbye to never knowing what the weather will be like, if it will go from a balmy 70 degrees to a rainy wind storm for 5 minutes (okay so that sounds a little bit like Portland, but its different because it's Japan). Goodbye to school lunches and looking around before eating to see HOW to eat my lunch. Goodbye to my group of ALT buddies who have all asked the same questions, "WTF" and "OMG". And I'll miss it all.

I have 2 more months to enjoy it and you better believe I relish everyday and the daily routine of naivety and ignorance that comes with it. I have a touch rugby tournament at the end of the month (We are 'Fistful of Funazushi' watch out). I have a Cowboys and Indian Theme party at my house June 13th...wait for the photos. And in July I have the Kyoto Matsuri, where I get to wear my Yukata (a thin kimono type wrap) and drink in the closed off streets of Sanjo...AND a trip to Okinawa! And BAM, just like that I'll be on a flight home.

I can't wait to see everyone again, especially my little nephews who ask if I can come home that weekend, every time I talk to them. But until then, stay tuned and keep checking out my pics on facebook....I'll try to post some on here when I get home. (I usually do all my posts on the computer at school, so I don't have any photos...) Sorry.

Wait for it...

Falling sleep at Grandma's.

2009-05-17T21:55:00.000-07:00

Last night I couldn't sleep. I couldn't figure out why, it may have had something to do with the frogs thriving in every rice field for miles or the fact I just sat on my "couch" and watched Sex and the City all day. Either way, I didn't want my coworkers telling me I looked tired for the third day in a row so I was in bed by 10:38, eyes closed.

I began to slow my breathing and on every exhale I would think, relax. This works, I'm told. So about 10 relaxes later I started to count down from 10. This started working until I realized I was concentrating too much and then my mind went into a flurry of other thoughts. 'Reel em in, Kyla,' is what I told myself and started to count backwards from 10 again, determined to fall into a deep, restful, no puffy eyes tomorrow, sleep. I remembered the tapes my mom used to put in for my sisters and I that would talk us into sleep. (I need to find those tapes.) A man would talk to us about relaxing and being on a cloud and all that. And it worked every time. So I tried to imagine his voice and then thought, since I am so far away I would channel some family member's voice. Of course, I thought of my Grandma Alice. But, when I "pushed the play button" the tape stopped. I had to recollect my memories of her voice. I was jarred to say the least and I heaved the memory of her voice back into my brain with all my strength and finally after flipping through afternoons at her house in her kitchen, her voice returned and so did she.

She said to me, "So you want me to count down from 10 huh?" With all her sass. "Yes please." "Alright, but you better fall asleep I'm only going to do it once." She told me. "Alright," I smiled. Her voice was soothing though her tone was impatient. She would never let on that she was actually enjoying herself. When she got to 5, as before, my mind started to drift into other memories, but her voice caught me when she said, "listen, I'm not going to count if you're not going to pay attention. Now close your eyes and listen."

I realize that all her words were my words in my mind. But it was her voice that played and I was happy to be in its presence. Soon she got to 1 and of course I wasn't asleep. But she didn't mind. She said she'd count one more time, but this time was it. And as she counted me to sleep I remembered all the nights I would run over to her house, mad at my mother, or just worried that my Grandma was lonely, and curl up under the covers in her King size bed to sleep. She would be awake until 2:00 or 3:00 reading her love stories anyway. I would say hello and that I was sleeping there and that was it. She would keep on reading. Sometimes she would extend her arm to rub my back for a second. Sometimes I would extend my arms and tuck it under her hip just so I could be touching her. "You're alright kid." she would say without looking away from her book. I remembered in the morning, rubbing 'the blue stuff' on her back and shoulders, her skin soft over her robust body.

She was the best woman I've ever met. Her tone was her trademark. She was always ready to help but she would never suggest it was her pleasure to serve. She would visit an elderly woman who lived alone down the street and buy the eggs the woman was selling there to help her out. Eventually she would run errands for the woman, bringing her groceries, picking up prescriptions. My Grandma enjoyed the simple things like feeding "her" birds and the other animals who lived around her property. And she was always stylish when making public appearances. Her hair was did and her large, extravagant cars would sail down the highways. Nothing but the best for her. She believed in hard work and family.

In Japan, they honor their relatives who have past away on a regular basis. They celebrate the anniversary of their deaths together as a family and pray in front of an alter to them, some daily. We drink Margaritas for Grandma Alice on her birthday, but it has been too long since we've all been able to get together and remember her. The last time my Mom and sisters did this was the first year after her death. It has been almost 4 years now. Wow. But last night we visited. And eventually after dilly dallying through memories and holding her voice at the forefront my mind through conversations with my grandma, I fell asleep, and she was there.

Cultural reflections

2009-05-06T16:50:00.000-07:00

At Satoko's Bamboo shoots party, I was there with a gaggle of people from all different cultures. Of course there were Japanese people, there were also people from Brazil and there were people from America too. Some Japanese people could speak English, some Portuguese people could speak Japanese, some Americans could speak Japanese and some Americans (such as myself) could speak English. Being able to speak another language opens up so many doors into new ways of thinking. During this cultural schmorgues board it was explained to me that in Japan they prefer people to have long legs and short bodies. However, in Brazil, their desired look is short legs and long bodies. These are rare among their own ethnic backgrounds. The man who was telling me this said, these are the reasons why he was perfect for his wife, she is Brazilian - and he is Japanese (short legs and a long body!)

I started thinking today about these cultural interests and how they transcend into other cultural aesthetics. Buildings, furniture, art, city planning, all of these tastes are reflected. I see how South American design is long shapes and with soft textiles - almost as if their furniture were the long torsos that appeal to them. And Japanese design is asymetrical and sleek using more natural fibers and recycled materials that could represent their taste for length, endurance, movement as they prefer in their physical appearance. As I have said before, culture is a machine that functions when using all its parts - personal aesthetic included.

So how does America fit into this? We like what? Long legs, long bodies, big butts, big chests, strong, healthy, tone? Can you see how our personal aesthetics transcend into our architecture and material culture?

So many things on a Monday

2009-04-26T23:45:00.000-07:00

Good Morning!

Today, from the window of my ichi nen sei classroom, I watched an old tracker dredge through a flooded and muddy rice field. Back and forth it pushed and leveled the earth. A small grouping of birds danced and jumped never more than 10 feet in front of the heavy machine, rejoicing for the bugs that had freshly emerged.

The rice fields are really quite breath taking when they are all flooded. It looks like pieces of the sky have been strategically stretched out across the ground.

Good Afternoon!

I was waiting for the bell to ring so I could eat my curry rice. It had been sitting on my desk for almost 15 minutes already. The smell was reminding me of just how hungry I get when I miss breakfast. The bell rings and I still wait at least 5 minutes. Being the first person to eat, if committed to such actions, must be done with skill and a sense of calculated nonchalance. I pull my tray close to me and pour the curry contents on to my rice. I grab my cold metal spoon, which feels like a soulless utensil after using chopsticks day in and day out and begin to dig in. Mmmmm, curry rice. Curry rice and... ABBA? Yes. Today's lunch music is ABBA. The ABBA gold album. Me, curry rice, my spoon and ABBA. (I also got to drink my yogurt out of a miniature looking plastic milk container. Japan happens.

Good evening!

I also put together what those small little wooden plates were for in my cupboard. They go under my ceramic tea cups when I serve them. I have seen this done for some time now and just put it together when the Kyoto sensei served me tea, mid meeting at the Elementary school.

Grandpa Willy

2009-04-21T16:36:00.000-07:00

I finally called my Grandpa Willy this morning. Time is tricky when trying to call long distance, and bless my mother for waking me up this morning! So I had some time to chat with good ole' Grandpa Willy. He has been in an assisted living facility for some time now (almost a year) and its just not the same without hearing some of his stories every now and again. I savor every second talking to that man because he is a huge key to my childhood and an amazing key hole into the past.

This morning he answered the phone as if we've spoken everyday since I left. His nonchalance chipperness is sentimental and warming. We both say 'Hello, How are you', at the same time and I ask how life is treating him. He sounds winded a bit and explains that he just got home. My Uncle Bill had just drug him around town, took him to "the" house (his house, that sits empty on water street that was once filled with his family and then his family's families and the setting for more holidays than I can remember.) But he got tired and just had to come back. He told me he was just laying in his chair.

I can see his soft balding head reclining on the heavy textile covering his recliner, both arms resting perfectly on both arm rests, hands fidgeting now and again, his suspenders clipped to his jeans laying over his grandpa belly and his skinny wee legs, who have done their darndest to get him through the last 82 years, supported and relaxing, stretched out in front of him. He may or may not be wearing his romeo shoes, perhaps some slippers but definitely some white tube socks. My guess is, its time to watch COPS. He loves that show. But I am grateful for his attention for a minute to discuss just a few moments of current events followed by old stories of the war, repeated at least once.

He tells me people are starting to call him a Hippie because his hair is getting so long. For a retired Barber - this is bad news. He says my Uncle Bill will take him to get it cut on Thursday. His intonation during this conversation is rascally. He gets a little wound up about being called a hippie but all in good spirit. I ask how his new home is treating him and he tells me "(Eve?), does a good job running the place", as if Eve and I were old high school friends. He says the kids come to visit which he really likes and I'm glad he isn't left alone too long.

When I begin to mention Japan that's when the war stories start.

"Things sure are different out here in Japan, Grandpa", I tell him. "Oh I bet they sure are. I remember when I was stationed in China I had a man fly in from Japan, and he came in asking for oil, water and ... and... dang it I can't remember the third thing, he wanted three things, but I sure found all 3 of them for him so he could get back to Japan."

"He had one of those big planes that could make the jump, we had to fly up the valley. We only had 1,000 horses, and his plane had 1,800."

"But my plane sure was dependable. Some guys were always bringing their planes in fixing the engines, needing new parts."

"I remember taking in a bunch of Japanese prisoners of war". He says this with as much intonation as everything else he has says.

"Wait, what?" I ask. I lean closer to the key hole to get a better look of what is going on inside.

"A bunch of them Japanese wanted to surrender, so we took em back to the camp, had them set up their camps and whatnot. We took all their firearms and cameras. Boy there were piles of them cameras and samurai swords and firearms. Them people from the newspaper sure were upset, those were great cameras. Those Japanese do know how to make great cameras...and, oh.. Willy find it... Binoculars, they had some great binoculars!"

"Then we took them up and put them in box cars, made them stand up and sent them back to the ships that would take them back to Japan." "Like on a train? You made them get in a train box car?" I asked. "Ya, the ones that came up waist high. We put them in the closed ones and people would be pooping in there. So with a half one they could lean their butts over and poop."

And as he is explaining all of this my mind is attempting to comprehend that reality. To put people onto a box car and to deal with their humanity from a soldiers perspective. To fly a plane and put your life at risk every moment. To learn about new cultures through the possessions you have confiscated from the very people trying to harm you. And the whole process of surrendering...in war. This is such a vivid vision of his life in the war, especially for 7:30 in the morning, but my heart is filled with my grandfather's voice.

I mention that I got a new batch of kids at school and they are a lot of fun to teach. He chimes in with, "Ah that is what your Uncle Bill and Aunt Martha did, teaching kids in foreign countries." This is something we have all known for about the last 20 years. Both my Aunt and Uncle are now retired.

"That's right" I add. "I am going to try to make it down to Okinawa to see it before I come home," "That's where your Uncle Bill and Aunt Martha used to live" he interjects. I follow with, "ya, I want to see where they lived before I come home."

"Well soon you'll get some time off to travel." he adds.

Shortly after we both drift into the second rendition of the first story he tells me of the war. "I remember when I was stationed in China I had a man fly in from Japan, and he came in asking for oil, water and ... and... dang it I just can't remember the third thing, he wanted three things, but I sure found all 3 of them for him so he could get back to Japan." I wonder if it matters to him whether I listen or not, it doesn't appear to, but I do all the same because sharing these stories between us is my gift from him. "That's good Grandpa, I bet you did."

Every once in a while I will say something and his response seems genuine and intrigued and I am happily surprised for his presence. I told him I was going to be car-less when I get home, but I will figure out how to come visit him. He sympathized by explaining, "You will have time to go through and pick out the right one for you. Just make sure you talk them down. (The way they price those cars) they think they're made of GOLD!". I smiled from ear to ear. He is a clever man.

I responded with, (when shopping for a car) "you don't take No for an answer", he laughed from his belly, "that's right" he said.

These are the conversations that are like gold to me.

Every time I talk to him I realize more and more how precious this life is. We only live it once and all too soon we will be faced with the reality of old age. I think about his life and how I often forget that this grandpa who lived in Silverton, Oregon for 60 years used to fly planes from China over Asia, dropping bombs and avoiding bullets. How he traveled across the United States in his childhood and survived the depression, dropping out of 6th grade to get a job to buy food for his family. He is just one person, like any other, but there is one thing very special about him, he is my Grandpa Willy.

serendipity hardly seems like the right word.

2009-04-08T20:46:00.001-07:00

This is what I love about life. It's unpredictable and eventually it all comes back around.

Spur of the moment I IM an old fling from New York who I happened to meet a wedding I went to spur of the moment in Portland. I ended up spending a rocky weekend (or as he would call it, "a long second date") with him in New York. Today during our IM he tells me the bride now lives just down the street from him in Brooklyn. And the she is now divorced. And despite their union ending, I am still talking to my acquaintance, whirl wind, weekend love affair almost 4 years later.

Family introduces me to Japan

2009-04-06T16:29:00.000-07:00

(sorry kara - pictures will come soon).

My family has come and gone. What a great time we had. I think it was best put by Alex the Lion in Madagascar 2 who said, "It gets funner the farther away we get". Fact. We had our ups and downs but all that said and done, it was quality family time. WE ROCKED JAPAN for heavens sake! I think the most important part for me was being able to see how we've changed (and how we haven't). I have been waiting for a glimpse of home since I got here and having my mom and Katie here has helped me to see myself. I remembered how much I love to dress up (aka - makeup) I practically stopped wearing (as much of) it since I arrived. I loved having Katie to dress up for. I realized how much Japanese I have actually learned and how beautiful this country is that I live in.

I also learned a hard (but good) lesson. I am a very prideful person. Of course this is something that prideful people don't like to admit, but there it is. It has been a tid difficult adjusting to living in a foreign country on my own, having to struggle to survive and really put myself out of my comfort zone. Because of this, I have learned to puff up quite a bit around people who are English speakers (my friends here and my visitors from the states) because I expect them to share common ground. However, they are not mind readers, they are just people like everyone else. I just have a larger vocabulary to express myself with them and those are choices I am going to have to reintroduce myself to. It feels invigorating to have discovered this about myself.

After having them for only a week I feel completely refreshed. I feel like I have been injected with a dose of Kyla and can now rock the socks off of Japan for the remaining 4 months.

Now, to talk about something other than myself....yes, its possible. A quick list of the things we ventured in J-pan.

1. Friday night , they arrive. I make them Takoyaki and they sleep.

2. Saturday - slept (all day) went to the conbini, Acoop and Comiri then dinner at my favorite restaurant Nishian, with Mary and Talon.

3. Sunday - slept all day.

4. Monday - went to Kyoto. We saw the golden palace (Kinkakuji) and then toured through Arashiyama to see the monkey park. After quite a hike we made it to the top and played with the monkeys. We even ran into my friend Tina and her 2 visitors. Arashiyama was gorgeous, it was the perfect day to site see. We finished it off with a trip to Sanjo. We took an hour break to grab coffee at Starbucks and relax and then we hit the Sanjo market by storm. Mom bought us our keitai dangles (cell phone charms) our change purses etc. and I bought black knee highs and the hottest heels I've bought to date! We took fashion shots and then headed home at 9:00. A long but fierce day!

5. Tuesday - sleep in the morning...visit my school to see the teachers off. School tour then dinner at Satokos! We met Garrett, Ryan's friend from New York, ate and drank until midnight and then went home before we turned into pumpkins.

6. Wednesday - this day was a bum rush! We went to the Heiwado after a sinful lunch at McDonald's. At the Heiwado we took the dollar store by storm and I challenged mom to a Taiko drum off (video game) in the arcade. Then we got our pics taken in the photo booths which were crazy but adorable. It was a 15 minute walk to the station in the rain! eeks. We rushed to the station and then to Shinasahi to meet my friends at Chama only to find it was closed! I also got into a fight with mom because...she kept asking the same question over and over and over and over again. I wasn't the nicest about resolving it, though I said the right words my tone was a mess (deliberately - not very nice). I hurt her feelings, she hurt mine by ignoring me it was a beautifully choreographed mess! Which drug into our visiting my Japanese friends Iho and Asami. woops...but it was nice. I also made the unfortunate mistake and planning a friendly card game with all my ALT friends that night and so we rushed through our coffee and cake to go home and clean. Only Kenji showed up and mom sulked until he left. Then we exposed our feelings about our situation earlier and made amends. I am too stubborn though and as soon as I was breaking down, I walled back up. I have some issues. But we worked it out and chilled out for the rest of the night. I think Mary Poppins was in the Que.

7. Thursday - We went to Gion to see the Geisha (Maiko) dance! It was amazing. We met up with Garrett and Ryan and hit up Mister Donuts and Starbucks on our way out. The show was amazing. Quintessential Japan right before my very eyes shared with my mom and my sister and my hip which had fallen asleep from sitting on the floor the whole time. Quintessential! Then we were suppose to hit up Kiyomizudera but were having such an enjoyable time with the guys we kept on with them up to see the Silver palace. We didn't quite make it in time but the weather was nice and we walked down the philosophers path until we could walk no more. Mom's knee was killing her and my foot was starting to do the same. We grabbed a bus over to Kiyomizudera to see it lit up at night and it was quite spectacular! After a days worth of walking (in flip flops) we grabbed the train home...A 40 oz. Asahi and waffles in hand. Katie, Mom and I lip synced and danced the whole way home. Scandalous! We all slept very well.

8. Friday. Katie and I got into a fight about deodorant. A big fight. But it was all resolved in a hallmark fashion and then we made our way to Chama for lunch. Chama was great. Katie and I had the lunch (grilled chicken w/salad and waffles) and mom had the caramel banana waffles! We talked and talked about life and everything in between. It was great. We strolled through the Chama clothing store on our way out. That evening we cleaned up. Mom and Katie packed while I watched America's Next Top Model. Then we got gussied up and made our way to Imazu for some good ole fashion Karaoke fun! A night full of singing was the perfect end to our trip. Kenji, Mary, Talon, Fionna, Ryan, Garrett, Katie, Mom and I were all in attendance and our songs were some of the best set list I've heard. We arrived at 8:30 and left at 10:35pm, another early night for car-less people. We made a break for the train station but JUST missed it. A first for me. So Kenji, Fionna and our group crammed into a taxi and taxi'd home. At that point we had pretty much used every mode of transportation (minus my bike). Bus, train, taxi, car, walk, ran. It was the full gambet.

9. Saturday : Clean, cram and go! I woke up feeling like shit. My throat was disgustingly cloggy and scratchy but I had to get my family to the airport. There were 6 bags - for 2 people. Thank goodness I was there to help carry the load. We dredged our way to the train station and pulled the bags ourselves up the stairs. I had a nice man help with the largest one. I understood when he asked in Japanese, "what's in here?!?" I told him a body. He laughed and said, "boyfriend?" I said, "old boyfriend!". It was great. At this point we were all broke as a joke. Which is how it should be. I didn't have money to go to the airport ($80 just to go there and back - I don't think so) so I rode the train to Kyoto and dropped them off at their transfer train. It felt like the week had just flown by. We embraced as long as we could. Katie's last words, "come to my house first! I have grass!" and then the doors shut. We waved until the train took off and then I was alone again.

I suppose its just because they were family but I could have had them stay for much longer. It was extremely nice to have other people living in my home and having Katie to fall asleep next to every night (even though she hogged the blankets and breathed on me most of the time) I wouldn't trade it for anything.

I know I can get through these next 4 months. They are baby months that will fly by and then I will be home. eeekkkk. What to do?!? Adventure! It might not be a year in Japan but whatever comes next I know I will have my family close at hand, to always remind me who I am. (rhyme?)

Awe sweet Engrish.

2009-03-24T20:12:00.000-07:00

Torture

2009-03-24T19:39:00.000-07:00

...all day I dream about : Deep fried Mochi and cheese.

DAMN YOU MARY MAGRANE!

Last day of School, lets clean!

2009-03-24T18:08:00.000-07:00

Well, yesterday was the last day of school. March 24th. Yes, March. That is new to me. So they have spring break and then start the new year. I guess in a way that makes perfect sense. When they have spring break all the club activities have practice and games (which is like the states except EVERY student is involved in a club activity).

At 9:00 we had our closing ceremony which was ... in Japanese so F if I knew what was being said. Assemblies always sound fun to me. But then I get there and realize I have no idea, nor will I ever, know what they are saying. Although some words started to pop out in my brain which was good but I can hardly deduce what the message is from "walk to school" and "sometimes". Right?

Also, for one hour I got to stand there. That's what the assembly was for me. An exercise to stand still for 1 hour. After about 3o minutes I realized I was fidgeting to the point of annoyance - to myself. It was getting ridiculous. Then I remembered that there are British Soldiers that don't move ALL DAY. And I thought it's possible. So I was channeling my inner British Soldier and trying to convince myself that my legs were actually made to support my body weight. It worked for about 10 minutes. Then I sat down (well, Japanese style with my legs folded underneath me). There were 3 other teachers sitting so I thought it would be ok.

side note : you never want to be the first person to do something in this country...there is this strange feeling in the air that prevents you from just doing what you want.... very strange but very true.

Okay so I was going to try to sit like that for 5 minutes but the assembly ended 2 minutes in. (Of course - right as soon as my will power crumbled it was over).

The assembly ended at 9:45 and back to the office we went. We ate Bento and watched Japan kill Korea in baseball and then it was time to clean. These people don't mess around. School is out...cleaning time.

My job was to clean the women's locker room. We opened the windows so that our body temperatures dropped to their usual Shiga temperature of 87 degrees and began to wipe everything down with...water. Yup...just water. Everything is wiped down with water. Even the mirrors...just water. The sinks had a special cleaner but everything else, floors, lockers, window...a quick wipe with water. Fine.

When the locker room was finished I moved upstairs to the extra storage room filled with globes. It also housed several of the giant pull screen maps etc that schools used to use back when I was in elementary school. Those of course have all been replaced with projectors and computers. I wanted to take them home and hang them as wall hangings. I digress... more water to wipe everything down. Finished.

It was 3:00 and I was done with my chores. I walked back to the office and noticed 2 of the teachers on the ground cutting up umbrellas. 'HUH' I thought. You don't see that everyday. They had several umbrellas next to them, all on the chopping block as I assumed so what could I do...Walk to my desk, grab my scissors and get ready to do some cutting.

In Japan, they recycle EVERYTHING. It is quite ingenious. As I sat there cutting the fabric away from the metal so it could go into the burnable pile, I thought...what do we do to get rid of old umbrellas? Throw the WHOLE thing away? Give it to the goodwill? And then it occurred to me how much we don't recycle and how much goes into a landfill and it was sickening. After about 5 umbrellas we had 2 more teachers helping and even some students who had dropped by. So naturally, not knowing how to speak Japanese, my only real means of interaction is in a little friendly competition. So I suggested a RACE. Immediately I was not confident in my cutting skills but I thought, what the hell it will be fun! And so we raced. I took second the first time and then was minutes off the second. But it was fun and I got to interact with teachers who I don't usually get the opportunity to. It was a good day.

Before I headed home, my Vice Principle stopped me at the door and offered me a piece of cake. A piece of cake that everyone would be eating at 4:00 when my day was done. I thought it was extremely nice of him and I could tell that he was appreciative of all my help. It felt good to be a part of the school. Even if it was the last day (of this school year).

daily deduction/reduction/deduciment/humiliation/life lesson.

2009-03-22T23:38:00.000-07:00

It's really not funny anymore. Its just frustrating. Ok, so, maybe it is a little funny. Today I was quite proud of myself for not asking how to "eat" my school lunch. When they serve a shallow bowl full of rice, its typically for some sort of curry or indicates a sauce will be poured on. The sauce or curry is usually in the actual bowl next to the shallow bowl of rice. So, I grab this bowl full of soup looking egg and tofu and pour merrily atop my rice. I don't even look around to see if anyone else is eating it this way. I have learned over the last 7 months that some people like it separate, some people put the rice in the bowl or vice versa, I have committed to eating it poured over the rice in the shallow bowl. I am pleased with my new found confidence. My confidence quickly escapes when I look over and my supervisor has scraped the meat and veggies from our plate onto the rice and has left the "soup" (and that it was) in the soup bowl.

What is worse: The ignorant pride of pouring my soup over my rice or that fact that my supervisor didn't even lean over the 12" she sits next to me and say, "oh, this is how we do it"?

No one says anything in this country. Its almost worse that they let it slide. It feels like unnecessary shame. Please, please, please tell me when I have just poured soup over the rice so we can laugh about this together. Otherwise it feels so embarrassing with a twinge of stupidity and shame.

As soon as I noticed the appropriate food preparations, I scraped the meat and veggies over the soup on top of the rice and thought, "fuck it. I like it with the soup. It all goes to the same place anyway." That was the best I could do to convince myself not to let my emotional disappointment seethe out. I finished my lunch and the day goes on.

But I know that they know that I didn't know and who knows if they know that I know now?

And yes, it matters.

Humility. Ouch.

while looking into someone's eyes

2009-03-22T05:53:00.000-07:00

You have to have the balls and then you have to say it, while looking into someones eyes. You have to bare your soul to make it the truth and God willing let it be the truth. This is the basis of our human existance.

Daily Office Shananagins

2009-03-12T21:49:00.001-07:00

Our office lady was talking on the phone, making a succession of short moaning noises (which in actuality are short conversational acknowledgements to whomever she is speaking to). But, with my back to her, she sounds like a remake of the cafe scene of when Harry met Sally...and just when I begin to accept that it will not stop until the phone is placed back on its dock, someones cell phone ring tone begins to hum the Darth Vader anthem. And I smile.

Valentines 2009 - Gion with the Geisha

2009-03-05T07:11:00.000-08:00

I see you!

Yes...paparazzi! There were 3 taxis full of these Geisha (or they are called Maiko if they are not full Geisha). Forgot my camera was on zoom from the last sighting...

The first Geisha we spotted. Apparently they DO NOT like you to take their picture. Woops!

Dinner! Pizza...with real cheese. Mine is a mushroom pizza....with Japanese mushrooms.

Me and Fionna...ready to chase the Geisha. (Happy Birthday Kara)

My back aches, My belts too tight....

2009-02-15T21:55:00.000-08:00

OK, so I know I did it to myself. I should have thrown those shoes away before I came to Japan, but they are ssssoooooooooooo cute, I could not bare to part. They have been with me through thick and thin (which is what the heel of these pathetic shoes have become). But I wore them anyway because they are red and it was Valentines day! Had I known I would be walking the greater part of Kyoto in 4 hours I would have reconsidered. Alas, Valentines day was spent with my great friend Fionna, eating Italian food, drinking wine, chasing Geisha and walking along the river back to Kyoto station (the scenic route). It was the best way to spend Valentines day in Japan.

However, I knew I had walked too much about 3 hours in. But I just kept going. I suppose you could say I was just swept up. Plus there was no time to slow down, we stayed out quite late and didn't want to miss the last train.

The next day I had to go to Kyoto to meet up with a new pal to conspire with about my pillows. I knew my body would be a little cranky but I had plans.

About 1 hour into my visit I noticed some pain in my left foot. The same foot that I fractured (twice) about 10 years ago. (Side note : holy shit it was 10 years ago?!) I ignored it. I kept walking. More pain. Kept walking. I felt bad we had both paid quite a bit of money to meet up and we had planned it for over a month. More pain. Ok....maybe walking is not such a good idea. I figured this out when I was about a mile from the train station on the 6th floor of some mall looking at $70 Marimmeko fabrics. I needed to get home and OFF my foot. My new friend decided to hang back and enjoy more of Kyoto and the gloriously warm day it had become. So I hobbled hitori de (by myself) back to the subway station which would eventually get me to the train station which would eventually get me home.

Searing pains were stabbing through the left side of my foot all the way up behind my ankle. Fuck. That was pretty much all I could think. And yes, I am a bit dramatic but WTF my foot was not suppose to feel like that. I called my supervisor who explained to me that the emergency hospital might not have doctors who know how to use xray machines or know anything about bones (I know what you are thinking...and I thought the same thing..."are you fucking kidding me?") and that my next option was to go to the special "bones and muscles" clinic in the morning. Until then ice and elevate.

Fuming. Beyond being in pain, I hate it when my crisis plans fall through. I was reduced to hymning and hawing alone in my apartment with a bum foot until the next day I could hobble to school and have someone look at it. Which I did - and ouch ouch ouch the whole way there. My supervisor had six classes today so she had no time for me. Which was fine because our school nurse did and was more than happy to help. I just wanted an xray. Tell me if it is broken because it feels like something is pinching.

The doctor touches my foot which doesn't hurt. He gives me a look and I suddenly feel like I'm 8 years old faking a sprained ankle in the emergency room. Except this really hurts. He talks to me (in Japanese of course) and then when its my turn to acknowledge him understandingly I give him my customary raised eye brow smile, make a noise like "uh...." and shake my head. So he then repeats himself to the nurse who takes her turn talking to me in Japanese. Great.

His diagnosis in english verbetum to me : "no worry fracture" and "weather". My foot was then taped with 2 wraps of tape (quite precisely and meticulously -thank you Mr. nurse) and then I was sent to get my meds. Later it was explained to me my broken foot is simply caused by the weather of this time of year and all I need are some nice pain meds to heal me. The tape will come off and stay off by tonight and the meds will take it from there.....rrriiiigggghhhhtt.

So long story short. My foot hurts like a bitch and I have the weather to thank.

What a wonderful world.

pleasant dreams.

2009-02-08T07:13:00.001-08:00

Tonight, I am going to fall asleep dreaming of me drinking a cold corona, watching a movie in bed while my two cats are sleeping next to me.

Death told

2009-01-23T20:41:00.000-08:00

What would the world be like if everyone knew when they were going to die? If intrinsically people were born knowing how much time they had on this earth. They still wouldn't know where they go aftewards but they knew the exact that they would die?

I guess that would take out the idea of accidents, right? And...maybe it would take away the need to 'live life to it's fullest' everyday or to treat every day like it was your last. Would people be less motivated to live? What would be people's priorities? Would it change the way that we interact with our families? Would be seperate from them or stay with them...what influence would they be in our lives if we were only given a certain amount of time to explore this life? Would we feel more like our lives were individual or would we feel the need to find a commonality among us?

I think this would make an interesting story......

thoughts for the day.

Chapter 8 : The boyfriend for reals

2009-01-21T03:21:00.000-08:00

Chapter 1 : The going away party

Chapter 2 : The coincidence

Chapter 3 : The bonsai tree

Chapter 4 : The head set

Chapter 5 : The trip to Hawaii

Chapter 6 : The ticket to Japan

Chapter 7 : The waiting

Chapter 8 : The Boyfriend...for reals

There was 3 months of skyping. And then he arrived. The anticipation was unnerving and I had no idea what to expect. I had a similar experience before, dating someone from afar who arrived only to have me slam the door in his face. So you can understand the apprehension both of us were up against. However, there was something special about him. Something special about us. I took the 2.5 hour train to Osaka to pick him up from the airport. I choked back about a million what ifs and settled on the excitement of a visitor from Portland, home, the mother ship, to come and rescue me from this alien nation. Whatever would come from this visit I would have that. I had about an hour to kill before he would walk into my world so I did what any normal lady in waiting would do, I grabbed a double cheeseburger and fry from McDonald's and a vanilla latte from Starbucks. I ate quietly by myself, then headed for the gate to grab a seat and wait. And wait. And wait. God that caffeine was kicking in. I should have gotten one for him because I didn't know if we would have enough time to get him some before the train returning home would come and HE would be the one that needed the coffee. But oh well...he would drink my coffee if he really needed it because he wasn't particular (like I am) about anything trivial like coffee. Oh, what a treat he was in for.

The light had stopped blinking on the "arrival" board which meant his plane had landed and was done unloading...any second he would walk through those automatic doors. "My boyfriend" would walk through the frosted glass sliding doors to meet me face to face for the first time at any moment. 'Is that my boyfriend? No, some uber rock guy who came to tour in Japan...that's not my boyfriend.....Another white guy pushing a cart full of bags...not my boyfriend....is that my boyfriend? That's not my boyfriend....that's not my boyfriend....oh wait there is 2 sides to this entry?....did I miss him?' I walked over to be in the middle and watched the sliding doors like a tennis match......and then.....there he was. OMG....the first thought was going to clench the next 10 days.......I liked what I saw! That is my boyfriend ;) His smile was plastered and I clapped and jumped up and down a little as we walked towards each other. Thank God that was the beginning. We embraced as if we had actually been in each other's presence for 3 months but everything was new and foreign. His skin, his hair and his smell were all new. Kiss? Not yet. Just let it all sink in. We looked at each other hastily not wanting to give away our shock or excitement too much or to question in our glance when we should kiss. Grab bags, get to escalator. "Hi." Eyes met. The escalator ride was dedicated to grasping the reality of each other's physical presence and making sure that it was an actual possibility to share time and space...for reals.

Of course it felt like everything was happening in fast forward. The escalator moved at rapid pace...we muttered several words of short banter, lost in our own thoughts. We got to the top of the escalator and juggled his luggage pulling it to the side and out of the way so he could bundle up in the unexpected coldness of Japan and to embrace once more. 'This is real...he is real, this is real...."my boyfriend?" yes....ok....ok'. I could feel a potential kiss moment so I moved quickly to grab his bag and get us moving. I was not ready for a kiss. A kiss can move worlds, sign contracts, destroy planets, shit like that....a kiss in fast forward could have catastrophic effects. A pause for space between us, he exchanged money to yen and I flexed my Japanese a little bit by buying our train tickets just a room away....the walk to and from the money exchange was just enough to strut a bit, to flirt, to gauge each other and to declare independence. And yes, I actually thought about all this shit when it was happening. Doesn't everyone?

Before I could think, we were on the Haruka train from Osaka heading to Kyoto to then catch the last train to Shin-asahi, home. Hand in hand. Photos of this event ensued by him of course which was thought brilliant by me. We were going to have a great time.

Chapter 9 : The curtains open

Chapter 10 : The harvested clam

Chapter 11 : The chapstick

Chapter 12 : The Japanese culture

Chapter 13 : The card game

Chapter 14 : The day alone

Chapter 15 : The surprise

Chapter 16 : The old city

Chapter 17 : The Tom Collins

Chapter 18 : The Tuna sandwich

Snow, Snow, S-NNNNNOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

2009-01-21T03:07:00.001-08:00

Thank goodness it doesn't "really" start snowing until February! I was worried I was going to have to walk to school in that.

Top 10 from Japan in 2008

2008-12-17T21:21:00.000-08:00

After 4 months I understand, that I do not know everything about Japanese culture, but there are a few things I have learned :

1. Culture is a machine that takes all of its components to work.
2. Language is more than words, context is everything and context is apart of culture.
3. Toilet seat warmers are the way to go
4. Listening is key
5. Anything is possible
6. Doing that which scares me the most directly contributes to my personal growth and happiness.
7. There are many ways to skin a cat
8. There is a time and a place if you make one
9. If it looks like chicken skin on a stick and it takes like chicken skin on a stick, it’s chicken skin on a stick.
10. Life doesn’t stop when you move to a foreign country (maybe just as you know it)

Somebody got a special package in the mail

2008-12-05T04:05:00.000-08:00

Heyyo!!! Yay me Yay me!! I got a care package today from the loveliest woman alive, M(r)s. Katie Stover!!! What a treat! This package not only included flossers for which I have been desperately waiting for but a variety of other thoughtful gifts.

1. Reese's peanut butter cups

2. "Signed" photograph of one sexy model, none other than Hugh Dancy himself (Katie you treat me so good)

3. The MOST hilarious comic strip of Dilbert yet. I cannot wait to get back into corporate America.

4. A gorgeous post card that is now sitting on my entryway shoe holder below the poster of my two leading ladies, Alice and Josie.

5. A movie to tide me over (my internets is slow...WTF and I can't watch thing at normal pace...aaannnoooying) Good choice to Katie. Wit. A scholar who gets cancer and realizes that life is about kindness and not the pursuit of knowledge....hmmmmm.....I don't know what to think thousands of miles away from my family during the holidays while I'm on my own personal quest for internationalization and personal growth.....but thanks. I only cried for about 30 minutes into after I watched it.....alone.

I am soooooooooooo grateful for the thoughtful gifts. Its fun to get stuff in the mail especially when I know it has been in the hands of someone I should be drinking a vat of wine with right now. My tidal wave of culture shock has moved down the road for now. I am settled again and happy to be alive.

I ventured out to buy some cheap food and put together my own udon dish, I spoke quite a bit of Japanese with a teacher at school and sang White Christmas with one of my classes. My whole plan to Vietnam and Cambodia is planned and booked. Wait for it! I am.

Katie - you are amazing and I couldn't have begged for a better older sister. (so thanks to my parents too.)

a little bit like the sky is falling

2008-12-02T18:28:00.000-08:00

I know I haven't checked in for sometime now, and everything I have posted lately has been about some ridiculous dreams that have not a whole lot to do with the day to day in Japan. But the tide has turned and life is different. I am different, noticeably, to myself especially. I am at the bottom of the barrel for high spirits these days. Seems like all I want to do is wallow and I don't even have a good reason, except for the fact that I just can't have it my way when I want it all the time I suppose. I'm in Japan and I want to be here, maybe more if Japan had a Stumptown and a Mcmennamins, though I would NEVER suggest it because then it wouldn't be Japan. They also speak a different language here, in case you wouldn't have guessed and though I have nothing against it, I find myself a little depressed about it. I am apathetically tired of not being able to read things or know what they mean. I suppose this is the low point of culture shock. I've been warned.

Fortunately I have some pretty amazing people in my life right now helping hold me together from afar. Which that in itself almost makes living here, away from them, intolerable. Having said all this - I need to say, I wouldn't change coming here for the world. I love living here it is amazing. I just think there are some things we don't have control over...the feelings that wash over us sometimes. Right now I'm in it, whatever it is - maybe it's growing pains. Whatever it is, I know that I will come out of it happier, more self assured, satisfied and more knowledgeable about myself. At this point, I know myself well enough to also know that this probably won't be the last time I am at a lull but at least I know to just enjoy it...because today is a gift. I feel myself wanting to drift into the darker side of life but I won't allow myself. I will however allow myself to lament about the fact that its cold, they don't use heaters in school, my pockets are stuffed with those heat pockets you have to shake them to get warm, it always seems to rain on the days I DON'T have my umbrella or rain boots, I am broke, I am going to Vietnam without solid plans and hate the idea that I have already spent money before I have actually done anything - airplane tickets just hanging out waiting to confirm validation. I have a test due this week for a Japanese course I have been avoiding and now I have to CRAM to get it in which I don't want to do but for some reason I have to because I started it (paid for it). Um....what else, oh ya....Christmas is coming and though I feel fine about not being at home I miss it terribly and seeing my sister's Christmas tree up and in full effect with her children around the kitchen table makes my heart ache. Oh the pain, sweet suffering....let it be my choice and dear god let it be not in vain.

that would be a great sentence for me to stop at, and ponder and let you all ponder as well but we already know the answer. Of course it's not. So I'll end with a few things that sometimes help me get through the day :

1. Let it be
2. Aint nothing gonna break my stride, aint nothing gonna hold me down, oh no, I've got to keep on moving.
3. Que Cera Cera, whatever will be will be, the future's not ours to see, que cera cera.

Frog shit

2008-11-19T19:12:00.000-08:00

As soon as I would start to clean it off from one spot on my bed I would find another and another until it was literally everywhere that I looked. It was green - different shades of green and it was mushy - thank god it wasn't hot shit. Just mushy.

It started with a frog jumping in my room and up onto my bed. It was fairly large and upon further inspection I noticed it had a baby frog in its mouth. I was worried at first that it would bite the baby frog or eat it but it didn't so I thought that was just how they were carried around. But then, suddenly a long, hard shelled, glossy spider began to crawl up. It moved with the grace of a walking stick and attached behind it, it drug a scorpions pincher. Naturally I freaked out at the sight - especially because at this point both creatures had now violated that which is sacred -not be touched by insects and the like - MY BED! I flailed momentarily and ran out to get my dad who was preparing to go to bed upstairs. The upstairs hall light was still on. Kara came running out of her upstairs bedroom to see the commotion, my father was second to emerge from his room. Surprisingly the spider creature had followed me without reservation. It was easy for me to justify my panic as I dodged this pet as it moved past me and continued up the stairs. It seemed harmless enough and it was in "Dad's" territory now, nothing he couldn't handle, so I said goodnight and went back to my room. The frog was still there sitting atop my curtain rod watching. The baby frog had escaped its parent's mouth and had jumped down onto my bed. I was fine with it at first because it was an adorable little frog, but then it started to make for my pillow and the exposed sheet area. And before I could fully revolt from the ickiness of frog slime on my pillow, the large frog leaped from the curtain s onto my pillow and bit the baby frog's head off!

I didn't know which to be more horrified about, a frog eating it's child or the disgusting dead frog remnants smeared across what was my safe haven of a pillow. GOD! GROSS! And ickiness swept over me. I lurched for a towel to get that shit off my pillow. Someone had arrived after hearing the commotion and started to help me clean up the gloppy mess. No sooner had I swiped up the first bit of green, grainy, mushy goo, the large frog had plopped itself on another part of my bed - this time leaving a pile of green mushy poop where it had just been. It was a green clay bodied mound just ruining my precious sanctuary and staining my hope for a restful slumber. As I moved to clean up the next pile I noticed another - then another - then another as I pulled my sheets back! Each pile a different shade of green and a different shape. They seemed to appear anywhere my eye could see, literally as if my eyes created them upon looking at my bed. At this point there was more green than white bedding and wave of defeat, ickiness and panic came over me right before I woke up.

Brain stew

2008-11-10T16:15:00.001-08:00

I made myself write it down in my dream. Richard - Katie was there and Heather was pregnant. I saw Sam Curtis he was like 8 feet tall and I felt like he had simply moved away for a long time. When I punched him on the leg affectionately it clamored like a hollow tube of steel. He tossed an egg at me from the end of a parking lot near a park. I caught it not knowing what it was before I tossed it back and felt the ovalness of it meander out of my perfectly balled up hand. It crashed down on the asphalt with a bang unnatural to an egg hitting asphalt and I was approached by security asking why I was throwing eggs. Sam was mad I had broke it. He had long curly hair and walked as if he were on stilts. He wore a flannel shirt. I promised him disgruntledly that I would go buy him a new one. So I departed from him and began to make my way to the grocery store. There is when Richard and Heather met up with me and Katie. We had to cross a very busy road - possibly highway and I was worried for the baby's sake, eyeing her stomach and the road cautiously to make sure it would not get hit. Then I realized I was pregnant. When I woke up in my dream I was telling my mom about it without looking at her, but writing down the words to remember this dream, Pregnant, egg and Sam Curtis.

Sam, Richard, pregnant, Katie, egg, breakable, anger, life threatening.

The skeletons in my closet were stirring the pot last night. At least I had the good sense to write it down.

get that shit out my mouth!

2008-11-10T05:19:00.000-08:00

Japan has got its hook into me and I am but a fish removed from my little pond. I know this fancy world outside my comfort zone has many beautiful things and many possibilities. I'm trying to gauge it all while I'm desperately trying to breath out of my element. Though I'm feeling like my fate is either in someone's glass cage with recycled water or in a frying pan. I am waiting for sweet release and to be submerged back in the water I am familiar with. I cannot wait to taste its sweet essence and feel it on my skin. A cold and refreshing return is just what the doctor ordered. Time and space will cure all ailments. Though I will wear the scars as badges of honor in my experience. I will appreciate my life and my good fortune.

*all metaphors aside this is just culture shock. I am bitching more than necessary but lamenting is like my third favorite thing to do. I need to GET OVER IT and jump back in. I need to revive the excitement and stop trying to coast through this...I'm getting stuck in an eddy. balls. sorry, okay okay!!! I'm back!

あしたはにほんごのれんしゅをいきます- がんばって

that's right...（i think)

A camera without vision

2008-11-08T06:48:00.000-08:00

Why can't I take good pictures? It's almost like a handicap. It seems like everyone who travels should be able to take a decent photo. If you're going to the effort to travel somewhere to see some real beauty it is more than a pity to be unable to capture that for all time. But whatever, so what - I can't do it. My pictures are very similar to the way I am in real life, quick, uncalculated and celebratory of each minute regardless of what a silly camera can catch. I am not going to give up on taking photos (despite the fact that it seems I am the only camera disabled person in the JET program) I just need to apologize in advance and suggest that you travel as much as you can so you can see these places behind your own eyes. Mine see everything perfectly and could not be more grateful. And when I share these moments with you, the syllables and inflection in my words will just have to be enough.

exhibit A: Josh takes a pic of the cliffs in Obama....

My pic of the cliffs.

I really thought I had something....wrong.

15 minutes of International fame = a really long blog

2008-11-05T05:44:00.000-08:00

Today Obama is Pr

esident and our country takes a step in the right direction. I celebrated in Obama, Japan, almost a complete world away with other pe

ople who were right there ready to welcome him into a position for change. I cannot begin to describe how excited, no - awed I am by the patriotism that took place in order for Obama to become the President, but I can describe to you what celebrating that patriotism in Obama, Japan was like. Surreal.

Jeremiah (thank God I can finally spell his name - shit), Dale and I rallied on the train at 6:50 in the a.m. to get to the bus heading for Obama by 7:10. We did not know what Obama looked like, or if we would be able to follow the polls. We heard it was a "small fishing town" and with adventure and hope in our hearts we departed anyway, determined to dedicate this day to being America as close to "Obama" as we could be....right? Dale and Jeremiah brought their laptops. We were fully prepared to search for the closest Internet place and hook up if nothing was happening. We were not prepared for what we were actually about to find.

Our 45 minute bus ride was scenic and we watched the sun stretch out over the mountain peeks. We knew we were closer to Obama every stop the meter above the driver added an extra 100 yen here and there.

The police at the "police box" at the train station in Obama, told us the festivities had ended and though initially we were a little miffed we missed "it" we were set on having a party that day and we set off to Moss Burger to find our Internets. As we asked for directions, Jeremiah came upon a Japanese word he was not familiar with....Shomo or something of that nature. Because it was 8 o'clock in the morning and I was feeling very comfortable being around people who don't speak English, I made the very common mistake of just being a smart ass for fun. I said, "maybe we could just act it out" and before I could congratulate myself for being sooo clever, another police man echoed me, "act". Quite possibly the only English word he knows so, part embarrassment, partly in the mood to follow this charade out I started to wobble my arms a bit and rock from one leg to the next - adding the word "act" to it just to have fun. I don't know what the fuck I did but suddenly the police woman who was giving the directions started to mimic my movements and declared, "fireman". I repeated, "fireman?" a little caught off guard that she said something in English. Dale and Jeremiah's jaws dropped as they gawked at my incredible translation of Shomo (or whatever the word was). I was just as confused but however it worked this police woman was able to articulate fireman from my ridiculous smart ass remark which led us to the fire station where we could see the Moss burger.

Honestly, I don't know how the world works and I'm starting to realize it might just be one big joke.

Moss burger was great. It was open. There was no Internet however, though a laptop was set up at the end of the counter by the older man who was working solo. We were more than happy to grab a burger before running off to the next Internet spot...it wouldn't be open for an hour. Coffee and a chili cheese burger, make it 3 please. Dale had run outside to check for wifi...Jeremiah and I set up at an empty table...English rap was thumping through the sound system. I asked Jeremiah if he thought the old man liked the music, so he asked, we got a smile and no response. We took it as a no.

The sun was out in full morning effect, 8:30 heat...thank god I brought 2 sweaters and my uggs! Before I could say - thanks for the free keitai bling, Dale had brought in 2 other Americans who came to Obama to celebrate. Everyone here has a strange name - Gabby brought this to my attention and now it is all I can think about. So in come, Gabriel and Hathem. Gabriel is from Kansas, his hair is dark and shaggy and he has fierce green and brown eyes furrowed under dark eyebrows and stands all of 5'-5" tall. Hathem is ethnic (which sounds so ridiculous to describe someone as, while living in Japan and realizing we are all ethnic, what the fuck). He has dark curly hair and big brown eyes with long lashes behind some fancy glasses. He is from New York. Of course. I am excited to see them (its always excited to run into fellow Americans - except when I get drunk in Kyoto and walk around bitching about all the white people, sorry). But on election day, bring em out, bring em out! I am even more excited because they inform us the party hasn't even begun and they bust out a map to take us there. More exciting than all this is the craziness of running into 2 other Americans who speak Japanese as they and Jeremiah now turn to the Moss burger employee and start speaking the garble I have to listen to day in and day out....it was almost a twin peaks experience (I'm assuming, I always hear that but have never actually seen twin peaks. I now assume all freaky shit is a twin peaks experience...you tell me) And it gets better still when some other Japanese person walks into the moss burger and offers to walk Gabriel and Hathem straight to the party so they don't get lost. This is truly a country that cares.

I grab the bags of food to go and take them outside to eat them with Dale and Jeremiah as our friend Josh shows up. (I make the mistake of introducing him as Justin a few times later in the day but he doesn't correct me until I find out from Dale I've been saying it wrong the whole time, I hate that, but he doesn't seem to mind). At this point it is almost 9 something and we are fully aware we are not drunk yet. Dale resolves this with beers he grabs at the "Family Mart" on the corner...to go with our chili cheese burgers. He has also brought some whiskey which I decide to drink first...liquor before beer, right? So it looks like the trip is going to be more exciting than we hoped for. A party. Small or not it was an assembly and we would follow the polls it would not be all for not.

For the record, Obama is not a small town. Everyone says it is but it's much bigger than my town. Or any towns in Takashima from what I can tell....but people continue to contest to how small it is. We walk for some time drinking my beer, sipping my whiskey and coffee, alternating my drinks and which arm will be holding my over sized sweater. The morning shade is cool and breezy but the morning sun is incubating my legs right through my dark skinny jeans and my sheep skin uggs. Are we there yet? We see water, there is potential. Before we see the Mermaid Plaza where the party is, we see the biggest sign with an upside down dead fish painted on it. Do I take a picture no? Do we all wonder what that store could be selling with a giant dead fish on it? A little, but this is Japan. We enter the building, me concealing my open beer (it's legal to drink in public but maybe not in public buildings?). There is a small group of people milling around, a table set up to greet handing out Obama chopsticks and I can see a table where they are selling the I heart Obama shirts. Giant flat screen TVs are set up with live coverage in English - we have arrived. A crazy group of Japanese people are freaking out as they always do on Japanese TV, dressed in some strange costumes. One a blue polyester suit, one dressed like a power ranger, one wearing a special helmet with crazy shit glued to the top and a fancy lady in a ruffly blue strapless dress with white sunglasses atop her head.

Not too much is happening so Jeremiah and I head outside - me to chug my beer and Jeremiah to search for a coke to top with some whiskey. We happen across some dudes smoking outside. They ask Jeremiah what press we are with then we say - we're not press and ask for the vending machine. We find one, get 2 cokes and are just about to pour ourselves a perfectly deserved beverage when a string of kindergarten kids walk by holding hands....we wait. We're not saints but we try not encourage too much delinquency, from small children that is. And back into the building for the partay to start.

(to be continued...there is a lot to write about obviously so I need to pace myself. Enjoy the suspense.)

party

newspapers - woah cool

more cameras

oh a video camera cool

obama shirt

obama chopsticks

TVs broadcasting CNN

hula dancers?

Obama ranger?

cameras?

more JETs - more cameras

chants

laughter

more cameras

go on stage - hercules - cameras - hot

jeremiah + kyla = stanch liberals

performances

polls

Virginia

Ohio - it's all over

watched the states turn blue on CNN

get on the table

chants

drinking - pass the cup

song and dance man - Obama is beautiful world

hula - no wait OBAMA IS PRESIDENT

crazy business

interviews!

hold the sign!!!

CNN

speeches - news papers hot off the press

can I have your jacket?

YES!

lunch? Booze?

Ferry?

Food?

weather and booze

Ferry ride - fast and free

wind beneath my wings

the Kompai!

Dutch photojournalist - natural disasters....nightmares...hands

Kenyan Embassador speaks!

photos!!

running for the bus

kids show us the way

station - drunk lady dale is charming

german journalist who jumps on bus and criticizes my intellect

home

fame.

one for me.

2008-11-02T06:50:00.000-08:00

I have turned a corner, or have made it around the bend, one or the other. I now know that I sometimes avoid accountability in my life by "going with the flow". Some would say that's just a way of living, but I know from my previous life (somewhere before college and ex boyfriends) that I am capable of so much more when I pull my head out of the sand and push forward with the things I truly want in life.

1. I want to be an interior designer and I will do what I need to, to get that job. THAT job.

I can have it. It is waiting for me...so is my furniture.

2. I want financial security and am ready to start .....budgeting (yay) again. Wouldn't that be a treat to have money in the bank? I am letting go of my ideas that I need new clothes whenever I find some and I am letting go of the idea that if I budget or plan on what to spend my money on then I will miss out on the unplanned bits of life...letting go of the idea of missing out in general. (please refer to my theory : the way you do one thing in life is the way you do everything)

3. Instead of giving myself a stomach ulcer from worry I will devote my energy to the positive outcomes that I desire and let go of all the other unnecessary bullshit.

4. I have finally figured out how I want my portfolio to look! and suddenly I feel like myself.

5. I am going to let go of my ideas that I need to throw money at my problems rather than taking the time to solve them or better yet prevent ;) example : housing, grocery shopping, vacations, entertainment, transportation, train tickets, everything.

6. Oh, and when designing things - what I design is original, a Kyla original. It doesn't have to be contrived to be an original it can just be newly inspired and refreshed. Everyone is looking for rebirth. That's why we go to sleep every night.

This is not why I started writing tonight but this is what came out. And how did I discover all these wonderful things about myself you may be wondering? It did not all come from just one single event, but in the fun things I get to do with my life here in Japan :

While eating chicken katsudon for breakfast at a small restaurant in Imazu outside of Pule's apartment...post a night of Shaun of the Dead and 28 weeks later talking to Dale (who we call Dirty D) about what life in America is going to be like when we return - or what this life has to offer outside the box.

Also, watching 5 adults help each other put zombie make up on and making fake wounds with gelatin and fake blood while the other 3 zombies are practicing the thriller routine in Mary and Talon's tatami room.

I had a glimmering moment of awareness riding on the train by myself while an old man who I named "gummy" stared at me over the top of the train seat. I also have these revelations while cleaning my kitchen and looking at the garbage I still don't know how to "recycle". They recycle EVERYTHING here. It's not just getting the right things on the right days but how to prepare it for recycling, sheesh.

I think about all of these things when I ride my bike to school in the morning - passing the people who work at the bank sweeping the leaves off the sidewalk and out of the street every morning. And when I sit with my back to a room full of about 25 Japanese coworkers who are scurrying about while I am sitting quietly observing how all the windows are open and there are more than a few bugs that are trying to escape but can't find the opening in the wall.

Don't quote me but, the world works in mysterious ways.

dreaming the life

2008-10-26T22:53:00.000-07:00

Most days are remembered like dreams. `Did that really happen?` is a question I find myself asking a lot. The lochness monster, for example, was discussed while walking over a stone pathway over a mote to get into the Hikone Castle grounds. I believe the question was,'do you believe in the lochness monster?' or would you kill it and capture it if you saw it?' or Does it live in Japan?' - but all of this was discussed as I peered into the green darkness of the mote as I walked single file to the Mascot summit.

Do you see what I mean? This really happened.

Also - singing Old Crow Medicine Show, Wagon Wheel as I exited the train in Otsu. The people staring at me seemed to disappear either from the drowning music coming from the ipod or the blindness of the booze. Efrem says, "Do you mind? Some people have to live here!"

I was overcome with a sense of free-ness. I reminded Efrem (in between musical stanzas) that I did not live in Otsu and would never be seeing these people again. And as I continued to sing I also let my body follow into joyous dancing all the way from the train to the taxi to the lyrics, rock me mama like a wagon wheel, rock me mama anyway you feel, hey mama rock me, rock me mama like the wind and the rain, rock me mama like a south bound train, hey... mama rock me.

and I was happy and free.

*I would like to thank the beer suppliers at the Round1 bowling alley in Kyoto and the Heineken suppliers at Lawson's for contributing to my state of enlightenment - oh ya, and thanks Japan.

My Mother and her Wonderful Sneeze

2008-10-26T18:19:00.000-07:00

She pretends not to care when she really does

and she really cares when she wants to

she cares too much when no one cares

feeling good

2008-10-26T05:51:00.000-07:00

I can only begin to describe how wonderful my experience in Japan is by saying, space. I have found space here. Space to breath. Space to think and learn and grow and hide and come and go as I please. Tonight I am watching the Fifth Element as I am stretching in my living room. My "extra" tatami mat room where only a coffee table resides and some pillows to sit on. It is simple. I have room to stretch. I have always wanted an empty room to just have space. I have that here. It inspires me to stretch. It gives me room to breath as I let the oxygen fill my muscles and room to exhale as I stretch a little more. It is quiet here.

I am definitely feeling at home. I am settling into my job and love my town. I am getting the jist on how to handle my students and looking forward to my weekends to go crazy. My Japanese is kicking in...sorta. I find myself using some sentences when having conversations with my coworkers.

The other day I thought, 'when would I come back and visit Japan' after I return home, and realized it wouldn't be for a long time. I started to miss Japan as I sat at my desk in school. I missed Japan and I haven't even left yet. I still don't know exactly how long I will be here, 1 year is what I am thinking...but it is so wonderful here. The culture is smooth, the traditions are grounding the honorific systems they use are endearing and motivating. It is easy to want to work somewhere where we are all working with and for each other. Everyone wants to help each other and are grateful to have you with them. Grateful.

Maybe I'm just grateful. Grateful that I haven't keeled over and died since I got here, grateful that everyone has helped me so much and have made me feel at home. I'm grateful that I have this amazing apartment and great friends to explore with. I'm grateful for the room to breath and grateful that I have amazing friends back home to lift me up when I'm feeling down. I really threw myself into this experience, just fell backwards and everyone has put their arms out to catch me. So, thanks.

It feels good to be alive. This world is a trip. yay me.

loves.

it won't hurt you

2008-10-20T06:06:00.000-07:00

(dream last night)

I was buying a backpack ~ but I was reluctant to spend money, but it fit so comfortably.

Then - I was showing someone a baby bird in a cage. When I looked down, it jumped out through the bars.

I was scared of it. It was quite small and fast. Someone reassured me it would not hurt me and I would not hurt it.

So I put my hand down and it jumped onto my finger, but then fell off.

Someone showed me how to do it, but when the bird was securely holding on to their finger, this person pulled it through a puddle as if it was teaching the bird to swim.

The bird had light curly feathers and though I was concerned at first about the water, it seemed to enjoy the experience.

turn it up

2008-10-20T03:44:00.001-07:00

Maybe you've noticed I haven't written anything in a while. It seems like I can write endlessly for days about annoying shit and weirdness and maybe some taboo ideas. However I haven't been really dealing with anything like that lately. My life is settling and I'm enjoying Toga parties and Takoyaki parties and bowling and everything is starting to simmer down.

Except now, I am in "like" with a boy named Brian.

and I have nothing to say about it.

I have a lot to say about it actually but I don't want to. I don't want to tell anyone about it because if you know me, you know I'm a crazy person in relationships...or at the beginning of relationships right before they end. I don't want everyone to tell me - "oh Kyla, you always like someone" and then feed the fuel to my insecurities about sharing my heart. I don't want to pull anyone into my psychosis of emotional issues but I'll be the first to admit, I don't know what the hell I'm doing.

Here's what I'll say, here's the jist.

I feel different. After all my panic attacks and talking myself out of this bisness I end up still feeling good about it, like I trust it. I sorta like being liked - which usually makes me fairly uncomfortable in the sense I might not be in control of everything. I can admit it. We have agreed to be "just friends" while I'm in Japan so we can keep it real...which is a huge relief even though it might be a tremendous lie, it's a psychological lifesaver. I mean I'm here and he's not so........So...wish me luck. When I agreed to let go of control in my life and move here I put no boundaries on it and am letting the love in. No expectations just mystery and learning. Let everything wash over me like an ocean. What's the worst thing that could happen? I could end up on a beach?

So no words. No words. just magic.

random thoughts, please don't feel obligated to comment.

2008-10-19T03:03:00.000-07:00

Every twist and turn of the day brings more and more answers, as if my life in Japan is a game of Tetris.

side note : "I'm Japanese, I don't use candles!" she exclaimed as she bitterly recalled a story of how she threw away all the left over shit (i.e. candles) from her "ex" boyfriend's house after he had allowed his ex girl friend to stay with him against my friends request. --> I had no idea that is a non-Japanese trait....the use of candles? I had to laugh at how vehemently she said it. hm.

I love it here. It's not just Japan so much as this life provided by JET. I have been given a wonderful group of friends who are "jetting" down the same adventure as me. Everyone is game to celebrate everyday and every person here. I have a job that I dip into for a few hours a day that opens my mind to a cultural divide and then have the rest of the day to swim in it. The days go by and the more I learn about Japan the more I have to shuffle my ideas about myself as an American.

kobe is a city in Japan

2008-10-14T06:59:00.000-07:00

Congratulations you are still in the running.....

2008-10-09T04:21:00.000-07:00

Oh my, what a sob session I had about 30 minutes ago. The kind my little sister Kara would so kindly go out of her way to tell me to stop doing because my crying sounds are really annoying. But I couldn't help myself. I got my favorite roommate's (Lindsey's) package in the mail and it couldn't have come at a better time. This week has straight up kicked my ass. I suppose I had to shed some tears to make room for more smiles. I also think it was the smell of lavender in the soap, incense and lavender pillow that Lindsey sent to me that reminded me of home. Everything in this country smells a little on the wet side. Vinegar or mildew. My apartment especially is made mostly of plastic and there's no dryer so my clothes got to dry last night draped over every door and doorknob in my place....They could go outside but there is a spider bigger than God out there and I was tormented considering it might touch me.

Also, this week I got my enlarged pic of my cats for my entryway so I miss miss miss miss miss them terribly. I feel like a horrible mother. Typical story, they are going to forget about me. This thought quickly spirals into everyone will forget about me (despite my incessant skyping and blogging) and then came the, 'what the fuck am I doing here?' 'What am I doing with my life?' How will I get back into design when I return? Did I fuck up my "path" whatever that is, by coming here, or can I really live life day to day? So maybe now you see how this lead to tears.

I didn't say they were necessary tears, I just said I cried. Sheesh. I lit a lavender incense and cried in a pool of my own tears and laundry on my bed. I cannot wait to use my lavender soap and I have almost consumed my entire box of yogurt covered pretzels....which took me back.

I know that it is just a waste of time to worry about the 'what ifs' in life. There is only today. There is only this second, right now. I need to let go of control and roll with it. Life is so much more enriching that way. I mean if you can't get sexually harassed, speed walk 4 km in the blazing heat, hand your sexual harasser his balls in front of his bosses and coworkers, get drunk at an enkai afterwards and then watch Lauren Brie get kicked off America's Next Top Model all in one week....and do all of that surrounded by people you CAN'T understand at all, then hell, what's living?

I mean America is great and I cannot wait to get back there, but today is a day for doing something new and basking in the vastness of it, and out here, it's vast.

Quick shout out, Lindsey your package was amazing and you have deflated and revived me all at the same time. I am so so lucky you are in my life, and too bad for you I know where you live. You can't get rid of me. Text message reading corner when you get this okay?

Sandra Bullock can change lives

2008-10-06T07:54:00.001-07:00

What is that amazing feeling when you have a crush on someone and it feels like your chest is going to cave in on you in the most amazing way? When I was younger, I remember this feeling could last forever. It would get me through the day and anticipating the next. It was such a high. I am bringing this up because it has been a long time since I felt like this.

I think I have one now, a crush. But at the ripe old age of 26 this wonderful feeling of...hope and anticipation has turned into a frantic throbbing pain in my chest. As if a crush were a knife in my heart this whole time but I finally am able to see the object that creates this and just want the damn thing removed asap. It's my damn heart.

Sorry to my crush. I will try to work on it so that eventually hope will (as probably the worst quote of my life arrives) as Sandra Bullock says, "float up". Or I will learn that sometimes it's better to leave the knife in rather than bleed to death. What does that mean? It just seemed right to say it.

full, not pregnant with your baby

2008-10-06T01:32:00.000-07:00

I knew it was sexual harassment because it left the sting of shame. What an interesting exchange between two people to cause this feeling. I felt like I had not acted appropriately to his remarks. 'I should have said'....blazed through my mind endlessly until I was paralyzed by it at my desk, unmotivated to do anything at all. My body was rendered numb and heavy and clearly there was nothing to do but write it out.

Then the excuses came. 'Maybe it's just because it's a Monday', or 'Maybe it's because I was feeling kinda sick already', or 'maybe it's because one of my Japanese coworkers pretty much asked me to have sex with him? and later asked me to keep it a secret'? I don't know. Lost in translation leaning strongly towards the latter of the three scenarios.

I had thought it strange when last week our post lunch English encounter ended with him asking if my "full" stomach was filled with a baby...his baby?! I laughed it off as poor English and some crazy humor in this country. This teacher had always seemed meager and strange, frequently attempting at least 1 phrase of English a day, very slowly and stuttered usually - but kind and enthusiastic (it's always the meager and enthusiastics.) I had discussed this situation as a lark at the birthday party on Friday - 'I was trying to say I was "full" as I put my hand on my stomach and he thought I was pregnant, ha ha and asked if it was his baby..haha?' Many of my friends were shocked by his comment. Perhaps I had brushed it off too quickly hoping to avoid awkward misunderstandings. You know - benefit of the doubt type shit. I hoped it would just be a joke of miscommunication and we would carry on with our daily English exchanges between the two of us.

(wrong)

Monday morning, he brings up the food/baby and after some comic facial translations and gestures he mentions something that sounds like 'full from lunch' and I was relieved all of my benefit of the doubt shit had paid off. See, just a simple misunderstanding resolved...full from lunch, not baby ;)

But then, there we are at lunch standing by the tray table, emptying our trays just me and him. He looks innocent enough, older and almost frail, no one I would feel threatened by.

Round two : "full belly?" he laughs and points to his stomach. "Yes, full" I laugh. The chicken curry was great but I couldn't believe there were 2 other sides to go with it! This time he says again, "full with my baby" and I laugh. "Dame (da-may which means bad, or don't do that)" I say with an awkward expression on my face, trying to pick up the laughter. What is this? Some kind of bad joke this guy thinks he's scoring points on? Maybe the first time was funny but now I'm starting to get annoyed...you never ask a woman if she's pregnant let alone continue to do it after the mistake has been remedied. I try to make this situation a joke by asking him if he is going to have a baby... He responds, "dame! haha your conversation is... interesting." At which point I tell him "you're funny." (translation : this better be a joke, because if it's not I'm giving you this one "out" to make it a joke or nothing good will come of it.)

Then he moves to the other side of me as I scrap my food into the compost pot...here it comes again, "my baby... ey?" only this time it seems more desperate, more of a real question. He also adds an extra syllable at the end indicating he is looking for a real response. His smile has faded slightly and suddenly we are a man and woman standing in front of that table having an inappropriate conversation (more so in retrospect...at the time it was just more....awkward). I felt like I was looking at Ben Stiller in dodge ball in his silver spandex joking with me about the shackles he has in the back, but then adds, 'but seriously, I got em'. If only this old man were Ben Stiller but he's not. He's a school teacher for Christ sake...and this is not a funny movie, it's lame. So for the love of God I answer "Dame, dame" said with a smile, can this just be over with already? He repeats my answer and laughs, "dame" and walks away.

I move to the sink to rinse out my milk carton and unfold it. He follows me to the sink though his carton is already opened and rinses it off. Well that makes sense I guess, this is me still thinking this is all in fun...no big deal, awkward but still just a bad joke because to me, he thinks, "she thinks my joke is funny, I'll just repeat it until forever," I don't know anything but let it lie.

I re-enter the teachers office and begin to do some work for my classes tomorrow. I have copies to make and take them to the copy room. I always forget my pen or scissors or white out (all essential worksheet making utensils) so I slide back to my desk to retrieve them when guess who the fuck is there? It's the meager enthusiastic. This time I am waiting for some new stuttered phrases but to my surprise he knows exactly what he's going to say and says it in perfect English.

our conversation is a secret.

Bold, capitalized, italicized and underlined, exclamation point exclamation point.

Shit has gone down. It's amazing how language works because had he NEVER said those words to me, I would still think, "that silly but creepy man" and left it at that. Now I'm in the middle of some secret inappropriate behavior trap with the foreigner. Like hell this secret is happening. The word secret is like handing me a stick of lit dynamite and then saying, 'please, just hold this for me'.

I panic a bit thinking shit what am I going to say, I try the foreigner schtick - I don't understand - but he said it in perfect English! So I try to just shrug /laugh it off with the finger shaking at him saying, "ah, ah" like you're in trouble, but not acknowledging his request for secrecy. Get me out of here!!! But he follows me saying, "uh, uh, secret". I walk right past him and again he follows me back into the printer room. It was a stupid idea to go somewhere private where I knew we would be alone. I should have started another conversation with someone else - IDIOT. But I wanted to not deal. As he follows me into the room he says again, secret? I say "wakarimasen" which means I don't understand. And then he holds his finger over his mouth to make, apparently, the universal sign for shhhhh - even worse. That moment was as molesting as the western style toilet. Such an intimate gesture.

I should have said, "No, no secret." or I could have said, "No secret, just don't talk to me like that anymore" or I should have said, "you are making me really uncomfortable right now, please leave me alone". Instead I ask, "Why?" "Why is this a secret?" hoping to take some of the pressure off me but to put it back on him, why does he want no one to know if this was just an innocent mistake? He mumbles something as he backs towards the door...his English is pooling into his brain and he tries to communicate this delicately and precisely. He manages with, "my.....uh....English.....is....not....good" The school bell rings and he needs to get to class. I answer him with "Hai hai, not so good." And he is finally gone.

What just happened? What do I do? Do I need to do something? God, I wish I could just drop this in an instant and forget it ever happened, but after finger to the mouth I could just vomit thinking about being alone in a room with this guy again. Do I feel threatened by this man? No, but really creeped out. That's for sure. I need to do something because I am now sitting at my desk feeling helpless and powerless to the point of numbness. This is my body telling me that it doesn't matter how I talk myself around this I have been effected by it. Thank God some part of me is sane. Action, now. But how? To who?

and this is the shit that women get a bad wrap for....damned if you do and damned if you don't. Why do I have to deal with this shit at work? But if I pass it on, then I bring "my" problems into the office. WTF. Balls and shit.

I try to imagine being a human about it. Maybe he realized it was a mistake and tried to just not make it awkward, but don't you think he would have just apologized instead of his persistence in secrecy? Secrecy keeps the door open. I thought maybe I could just let him know, hey lets just not joke like that...but then what if one day we're alone and he thinks it's "funny" to touch me or it goes too far at an enkai? In a perfect world I could deal on my own, but I'm not necessarily at work for my health, I'm there to do a job. So this is not my problem, it is the school's problem. That's what I think is best but.......as a human being you know life loves to get complicated, especially when there is more than one person involved. Suddenly, cultural background and personal background come into play as decisions and interpretations are calculated.

I am so by the book in my mind. You have to have rules and principles. That's why they're there...rules set up to help situations like this. I don't think everyone should have to handle things alone. We are all connected, there is a network. So I will first talk to another woman ALT who has been around longer than me to get some advise. Maybe I'll talk to my supervisor after I have some emotional support. Just to let someone know and then maybe I can just let the offender know what he did made me uncomfortable. If he does not feel comfortable about other people knowing what he is talking about then those are inappropriate conversations to be having with me.

I don't want him to get in trouble, I just want to assert myself. But I don't know what will happen and that is the complicated bits. But I know that I will not hold onto this feeling of shame, first and foremost. Not mine to hold. I will stop worrying about what will happen to him and focus on what I need to do for myself. Surprisingly something I feel I need to convince myself of. This is not the first time this has happened to me. And I could only hope it will be the last. But I'm not going to stop talking to people or being friendly and open. I will try to be more assertive and stand in my own skin when I am feeling uncomfortable and say no. These moments will always be awkward but the more I get to know myself the quicker my reaction time will be. I'm only 26. Watch out.

Sidenote : even the experience writing about this is delicate. I had to edit more than I usually do to ensure that people will not misinterpret my interpretations. WTF. When can I just speak my mind if not in this tiny box in outterspace?

let the sun shine in

2008-10-01T08:05:00.001-07:00

What are we...these creatures that just float around and bump into each other in large groups or stand alone in the middle of a canyon or field. We are so small but can feel so big and so dense and sometimes so empty. We fill ourselves with all things perishable but we believe in eternity. Where do we go? Where did we come from? What are we here for? Are we here to really make a difference or just conquer our environment?

I want to design space, partly because I can't help myself but maybe I just have control issues. Maybe I just want everyone to live where I want to live or eat somewhere I would eat. Or are we suppose to share these things as part of our experience with others. Is this how we relate? I'm swimming right now in some corner of the world and other people are doing the same thing somewhere else. Some right next door to me. I don't know them or where their day takes them.

Some people stay in one place their whole lives and some love to travel the globe. Where does that energy come from? Wherever it does, let the sunshine in.

When I feel it

2008-09-29T15:43:00.000-07:00

The big debate. Do I stay here for 1 year or two? I've thought for the past week or so, definitely two, I could kick it here and visit Kyoto and just take it all in. But when I announced the news to my father via email last night, I couldn't sleep. I had an anxiety attack instead. What would I do my second year? The first year is all planned out. Thailand for Christmas, India for spring break, see some family in the summer...then...stay and save money? I could make $4800 of "free" money if I just take my checks and put them in the bank (cough)pay back my credit cards.

But I just couldn't see what I would do the second year. Stay here, teach and ....live?

I guess the big question (to the "big" debate) is why not? Immediately there are about 5 faces squishing their way through my brain, almost out of my eyeballs and onto my lap.

Mom, Katie, Kara, Dad and Gabby.

And then, Josie and Alice my cats. And then my developing furniture company Kiss my Sass. And my career, whatever that means.

So what would I do if I got home next year? Traveled, saw the world and moved home?

What would happen if I stayed here another year and then moved home? The answer I suppose lies in, what's next? Originally, I thought the answer was in the question...am I one of those people that lives close to home her (relatively) whole life or can I separate and find a home afar? Plug for Skype - if I didn't have it I would be home right now.

What's next. Brett Dennon is in the background and he says, "when you feel it you know". Talk about timing. I think I will marinate on that for the day...maybe a bit longer and, when I feel it, I'll know.

I need a beer!

2008-09-26T02:57:00.000-07:00

I am grateful for Fridays and beer and that hair grows back. I am grateful for fried shrimp, sushi and America's Next Top Model. There is no better day than today.

I was dreading school this morning on the brink of a panic attack as to why I moved to this country that I know nothing about and who knows nothing about me. But I realized I was just stressed out because I was going to get my "bangs trimmed" tonight after school and I was nervous because I was going to a place I'd never been to with one of my (favorite) coworkers...who doesn't speak English. And if you know me, you will know I'm very very very very very particular about my hair. I was preparing for the worst.

I get to school and the rain comes. Sheets of rain pouring down, which is great for 2 reasons and shitty for so many others. It is great because it might just kill that fucking ugly ass GIGANTIC spider that lives outside my front door - waiting to eat me. Also, the rain reminds me of home. On the other hand, the rain sucks balls because....it reminds me of home and makes me involuntarily homesick, and I have to ride my fucking bike in it - sans umbrella. But whatever...this conundrum also amuses me to no end. After the first period of me sitting at my desk writing Kimmie a letter, the thunder comes. It sounds so close I'm sure I felt the room shake...more fun. I am envisioning my solo "teacher's" bicycle outside the side door getting drenched and how soggy my ass will get to have to sit on the puddle that is a bicycle seat. But I move to 1 of 3 computers in the teachers office to check my email. My previous blog was a bit over the top so I had to see if there were any comments. Probably best if there wasn't.

To my surprise, I find Ms. Amy Phillips on gmail! We chat for about 30 minutes or so and I felt like it was a real conversation. We typed at the same time, we LOL'd at the same timed and HAHAHAHAHAH'd at the same time and even talked about Macy's big belly at the same time. It felt good to be in sync. Plus, I love her soooooooooooooo much she is my inspiration and reason for living so I was happier than a fly on shit to see her name marked available! Her Jeffy got home and my teachers were getting restless so I let her go and went to sit solemnly at my desk. I think it must bother the other teachers that I have nothing to do, when they are back and forth and in and out busy all the time. So I sat. I have started a vocabulary list from the book I'm reading: Love in the time of Cholera...good book. So I was studying my English words. YAY me...revolt against the culture you live in!

well...I was also sitting there hoping - all the fruit flies in my apartment would die! (sidenote) and that I wouldn't have to stand in front of the whole classroom today. I much preferred face to face time when I was helping my girls with their speeches. I packed up and headed to the first of 4 classes today. It was a fucking miracle...today I was going to sit in the library and have the students read to me 1 at a time ;) Yay! there is a god.

So I did that for 2 classes....by then I was starving. What was for lunch? Another egg stuffed fish with a face? Please no! When I arrived at my desk there was....fried chicken...no shit. Japanese fried style but fried none the less. What a great day.

My last 2 classes were sorta....off. I wasn't as prepared as I should have been for either of them and my last class had the same kid in it who strangled another student and kicked over a girls desk last I saw him. Today he decided to wail on the poor chubby 12 year old in class until he was crying. And no, nothing happened to the mean kid. Nothing ever does. They "discipline" their students different here. They just don't. I got back to the teachers office in time for cleaning. The students have to clean the school for 15 minutes at the end of the day and today I was ready for them. I was tired, I didn't help clean, I pointed out where they needed to do more and made them talk to me in English. I was a bad ass and felt kinda like a teacher. When they left I high "touched" one of the (unsuspecting) teachers and stated proudly, "I need a beer!"

How strange it felt to feel something so familiar. I was almost giddy that my entire body was in agreement. But first I had to get my hair cut.

I raced home and changed into something more comfortable (which wasn't as it turned out because they don't do boobs here and most of my tops do) but whatever. So I met my coworker Iho Sensei at the station in Adogawa. We were driving to TOPS. Iho sensei brought her English dictionary and I brought my pseudo Japanese dictionary. It looks huge but has large font so no words of use as it turns out. The first word I tried to look up was cool....because the salon was actually pretty dope. Did I take pictures? no...I have a fear of looking like a tourist. But the word cool actually means cold so fuck...fortunately after about 5 minutes of acting, I remembered the word --- sugoi (sue-go-e) and she looked it up and sure enough it meant wonderful. So we jumped out of the van and into TOPS.

They took me to the shampoo station. A cloth was placed over my face (geniuses) while they massaged and shampooed for about 15 minutes. Then, more massage at the cutting station itself. The hair cut was described as - trim it, bangs shaggy (stylist's word - awesome) A-line (curses I'll never get anywhere beyond that fucking A-line - I'm sorry I ever left you Jennifer). Then she began to cut. And as usual I hated it. But she kept cutting. And cutting. I knew I shouldn't have got the whole thing cut. Every time I want to grow it out...I need a trim which turns into a cut. DAMN IT. But after the cut there was more shampooing. What the fuck ever I thought...it couldn't get any worse. I was just going to enjoy the fact that a man's hands were touching me. So I was relaxed for just a bit. More massage and back to the chair for more massage...I could get used to that. Iho is looking up words and phrases and is being such a great friend chatting about hair and salons in America and such and she is just so cute and wonderful. My new boyfriend is now blow drying my hair. And as he is so gently rolling out every section my hair transforms into something almost cute. Yes. cute. He adds a bit of waxy gel to the top and the woman who cut it sprays it. And, what do you know it's not half bad. I was even asked to come back and be a hair model!

The transformation into a Japanese person is well on it's way.

Now it's time for a beer!

Right where I'm suppose to be

2008-09-25T04:18:00.000-07:00

I've always felt like a...loner. Someone should really think up a new name for that. It sounds so early 80's. Well, for lack of a better word, I have felt separate from any crowd. Don't get me wrong, I have lots of great friends who i spend a lot of time with. Sometimes scheduled time, sometimes spontaneous and it is with friends, but when I'm alone I often feel alone. Is it this way with everyone in temporary moments of solitude? To feel unacknowledgable?

When I was in Portland I spent a great deal of time wondering if anyone was thinking about me. To my friends, I was constantly busy. To myself, I was constantly busy. I barely had time to think in between social events, dating and dance or art, but I liked it that way. There were less things to worry about when I was busy - like who is going to love me? The more I was out, the more I felt like I was giving myself the opportunity to meet people, meet him, whoever he was. But alas, my endless stream of dating got me wanting to leave the country. So I did.

But the point of this story is that as I sit here in my apartment in Japan, after having watched When Harry Met Sally and Steel Magnolias (sorry Sarah!) I find myself starting to wonder why I have this same feeling...why am I alone? Even after canceling plans TONIGHT to watch Heroes with friends or other opportunities to pick up the phone....I still have this feeling. Does everyone?

It seems ridiculous to me. Maybe because I'm PMSing and everything is introspective or I'm not eating enough red meat or I'm missing my family or I am tired of my art projects and cleaning and internets to the point I am left to my thoughts. (Sarah would say this is self inflicted from tormenting myself with fictional sob stories such as the movies previously listed) What's the use. At least it wasn't The Notebook this time.

Can I blame my family for this? My mother practically has my name on match.com as we speak! And every man I meet is greeted by my sisters with the same enthusiasm and premonition...he's the one! Bah! Get out of my head!

Is is possible to just be alone. I mean clearly because here I am. In Japan, it's not like I'm hiding....necessarily. I mean, I'm adventuring and learning about myself still. I have ambitions and dreams I aspire to accomplish. And it can be complete with all these things, even without a partner right? Oy vey.

I do believe in love. I've had it. I know that it comes out of no where and when it is there, there's no denying it. I am not afraid it doesn't exist, I suppose tonight I am just worn out from anticipation. We'll call this a lull and I'll go eat some strawberry Pocky and be fine tomorrow. I'll get my bangs cut and visit an art museum and I'll be surrounded by life. I will be right where I'm suppose to be, doing exactly what this life has to offer and I'll love every second of it.

And this question will come up again, but not for awhile. I don't have to make heads or tails of it, because it is just a question, just a thought, like so many rolling around in my head. If I knew the answer to this, I'd just be blogging about something else. So for tonight I will revel in my inquisition and love that I am alive to think about it.

It's my birthday and stuff

2008-09-24T05:49:00.000-07:00

Sept. 4th

Today I am 26 years old. It just hit me. Panic? More like a ringing in my ears, a slight compressed sensation. 26. In Japan. Sure. Why not?

Western Style, My Ass

2008-09-24T05:06:00.000-07:00

Sept. 3rd :

I had an interesting experience today while trying to take a dump in the school bathroom. It could be comparable to most of my experiences here in this foreign country thus far.

At first I wanted to be alone, so I waited for my moment of privacy. I noticed the 2 sets of toilet shoes as my first clue that I was the only person in the bathroom. I slipped a pair on knowing full well that should someone stumble into the bathroom my shoes would be a dead give away it was the American taking a dump. But I was willing to chance it just in case someone came in and saw 2 toilet shoes but heard someone in the bathroom and thought, "eew, gross - potty shoes American!" At least taking a crap is somewhat more universally forgivable. Perhaps 'potty shoes' is not so much.

So - I enter the "western" style stall. My excitement for the familiar is quickly replaced with sadness and disappointment. There is a toilet with a seat, yes, but the seat is wrapped with a terrycloth seat cover. A moist terrycloth seat cover. But a seat none the less so I take it. I think it was the coffee that induced an urgency to the bathroom - DAMN than amazing caffeine rush in the morning!

Double edged sword : No coffee - tired and slow through the day but no midday dumping. Delicious can of sweet cold coffee - life is great until 2:00 when public dumping is necessary.

Back to the imagery of me on the terrycloth toilet seat, my own little piece of Dante's Inferno. I have gotten over the first few foreign obstacles but here is the test. I begin my usual toilet session and things are moving along. A ray of hope for a quick return into the office and avoiding public awkwardness. No sooner am I enjoying this thought, my body betrays me. I have no control and I don't know whatever gave me that idea. It's stuck. A moment of panic. I can hear the kids in the hall. What do I do? Push? Reposition? I hear something! Pinch? Pause? At this point I'm playing tug of war with my butt.

I know I am at no place to fully retreat so i bare down for my last desperate attempt to save myself from another experience of a cultural unknown...and the very familiar sting of humiliation. I grab for the toilet paper which is housed in its own roll of terrycloth. Embroidered on the terrycloth the words, four seasons. I hope they are referring to the changing of the weather because this is sure as shit (pun intended) NOT the Four Seasons hotel I can tell you that.

As I conclude my experience I leave the stall feeling slightly molested. The floor is wet, the toilet seat is damp terrycloth and who knows where these toilet shoes have been before me? I can only hope this experience will make me a stronger person and I will begin to feel anything close to optimism again. Maybe tomorrow or maybe after I take a shower, when my body is mine again and not this foreign place's.

Co-dependence and Abandonment

2008-09-21T05:01:00.000-07:00

September 2nd :

Left here like a helpless baby. LUNCH? Ahem!?

Nobody waits for people to eat here, they just begin their meals when they arrive. And if engaging in a conversation about how the school lunches work it's perfectly acceptable for someone to interrupt without so much as an excuse me and then take the person I was talking to away -- even if I am desperately trying to figure out why I am alone in the staff room and if I'm suppose to help bring the lunches out and when I finally get to eat!

Possibly the funniest moment in my life - after a meager attempt to independently find lunch - with no success, I solemnly walk back into the office. No one is here. No one. The only sound that can be heard is...crickets. No joke.

Crickets, to mock my co dependence and abandonment.

Give it to me one more time

2008-09-18T01:25:00.002-07:00

Back log : August 22nd (I guess I was trapped in an English speaking body in Japan)

"O" sensei laughed with his whole body when "S" sensei explained to me she didn't have the Japanese writing instruction book for "young kids". O sensei chimes in, "young kid? Young kid?" as it is often customary for Japanese people, trying to understand an English conversation, to do by repeating your last words (or maybe in every communication transaction between 2 foreign speakers). He looked at me, at which moment I point to myself and said "young kid" to express it is I who needs children's books to help me with the writing order of Japanese letters.

My simple gesture (and coy facial expression) seemed to trigger an attack of spasms all over his body as he threw his hands in the air and moved in every which way as he laughed. More fluid then a jelly fish was his ability to move his whole body in opposite directions at once. This laughter was unlike any I'd ever seen! The spackling of his voice in the air to match, was child like as if he saw something he had never seen before and his reaction was purely physiological and involuntary. I wish I could describe the sound of his laughter but I fall short by saying it was a contagious ringing of short burst of noise...worst analogy ever : like a ghost was tickling him. yes. A ghost.

Internets happen.

2008-09-18T01:25:00.001-07:00

Back log : August 22nd (apparently I had a lot on my mind)

What an amazing process!! After 3 weeks of Internet talk - my supervisor comes in the office in the middle of her teachers' training to ask about which Internet I want to use (there are few different servers). Apparently, the Principal is on the phone with the "Internet people". Just fifteen minutes later a man appears from the "Internet" company.

The elastic had worn out on his slender face and the delicate folds of skin gathered around his cheeks and mouth. They moved with the inertia of his body, smiling then not, looking down at his notepad. His Hello Kitty tie said it all really.

He is here to sort it out. My address and phone number just about does it and he is off to work on setting up my Internet. As quickly as he shuffled in, he shuffled back out. I watched as his green plastic visitors slippers (much too small for his extending feet) slid over the abused parquet office floor. The sliding doors clammered shut to trap the precious supply of AC.

Side note : There is no reason to be upset or impatient. It always comes through. If impatience has proceeded it has smothered any chance for genuine appreciation.

Speech Contest

2008-09-18T01:25:00.000-07:00

It was speech contest day. What an experience. There were about 30 kids giving speeches. Half were speeches that they had written, the others were recitations of stories. Both were interesting by their own merit. The English pronunciation was...developing. Some students spoke very clearly in their speeches, some speeches I think were in English. But that is neither here nor there. There were also some very interesting topics. The winner gave a speech about suicide in the junior highs. It was titled, We Are All Involved. Heavy, but she was looking for a KO and she got it. Another heavy topic was people who had to hide in a cave during the war and another was about being in a car accident. Very intense.

The second section was students reciting stories they had memorized. These stories are unlike any I've ever heard before. Stories of a little girl dying under a tree after the bombing of Hiroshima, stories of sinners bobbing up and down in the river of blood in the floor of hell, nursery rhymes here. Brilliant. Unfortunately (for my 4 young aspiring English speakers) the people who won this category recited stories of Beauty and Beast and Goldie Locks and the 3 bears. All of which had alternative endings like I had never heard before...I think my favorite was the story where 1 man lost his wallet and another man found it. The man who found it returned it with all its original $300 in it but the owner of the wallet wouldn't take it because technically he "lost the money". But the person who found it, couldn't take the money because it wasn't his! And after arguing back and forth the landlord settled the argument by throwing in $100 of his own money so they could each have $200. The reasoning, the rationalization to this story : they could both take the money because they were each at a loss of $100, including the landlord (who had nothing to do with the wallet) and then the landlord took them all out for dinner! Doesn't this make sense? This is Japan.

As the judges came back in the woman with the microphone announced the weinners. The weinners. one more time, the weinners. I know this is bad karma or something, but really just cultural observation I feel it is my obligation to share the irony of an English speaking contest, critiquing on pronunciation and repeating the words weinner more times than I could handle. I loved it and yet was disturbed by it all at the same time. I think that is the definition of acclimating to another culture...don't question just take all in.

some new things

2008-09-17T04:49:00.000-07:00

I did all by myself. I paid my bills at the convenient store, 3 bills, electricity and 2 phone bills. I sent 4 pieces of mail to the states and had a nice "discussion" with the postman how to address Japanese envelopes. To address on the front, from address on the back.

(I had to stop and think about the word discussion....I have not had one of those here with a Japanese person ever, such an interesting concept for my life in Japan).

So, after my delightful stop at the post office I was off to the train station heading to Otsu for my re-entry permit. Not only did I not know where the office was, I didn't have my form to get the permit. But! I managed to find my way to the stamp station, pay the 60 yen for the stamps, and get directions to the proper permit building! When I arrived I was able to find the form, fill it out (without my usual prolonging fret that increases my form filling time to twice as long). Filled it out and asked the nice man at the desk questions that I was unsure of. I got about 5 minutes of Japanese soap opera in before I had my permit and I was out of there.

Next up, shopping. I really just needed a watch.

Shopping is what keeps me questioning my allegience to the female gender. I'm terrible at it. I start out telling myself, I know what I need. I think I know what I need. I have a list. I have 3 lists. It starts with one thing...'just focus Kyla'. A watch. I keep looking at my wrist and am constantly disappointed (unlike this very second as I watch Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams in The Notebook....never disappointing.)

So I enter Parko, this giant mall...I am feeling excited. I accomplished all my goals for the day and I had a little too much cash in my wallet, the mall seemed like a perfect idea. First stop swatch...right? Hmm...TOO MANY CUTE CLOTHES on the way....what to do? Try everything on....but I collect myself and decide...I'm here for a watch.

Watch found! Swatch. I thought something utilitarian, something that would work with every outfit and just simply tell me the time. But...then I found this watch and clearly fashion could not be compromised. (sorry it looks like my arms are dead - awful fluorescent lighting!)

So after I had the taste of doling out cash I went looking for, ya know, 'just a top'. I stumbled into this fantastic store called Natural Beauty Basics...Not only were these clothes Kawaii (cute) but it reminded me of how liberating it is to buy new clothes. And so I did. Before I made a *small* purchase I made 2 fantastic discoveries...you have to take your shoes off before going into a fitting room - does anyone else think that's too much? - and when trying on shirts you must first put one of these on....no joke.

Well...after my adventure in shopping it was definitely lunch. I found a great Italian place with a view, ordered some pasta with mushrooms and cream sauce and had a glass of wine. I was slightly miffed that they were out of garlic bread but I was not going to let it spoil my celebration for self reliance. I read a little bit of my book, Love in the Time of Cholera and tried to relax but couldn't figure out if this restaurant was a place where you could hang out or if it was an 'eat your meal and quickly remove yourself' kind of place. I made a terrible oversight in the clothing shop by taking a pair of leggings out of it's plastic bag and would hate to be so presumptuous now! (Yikes big mistake...the clerk was not too happy) So I ate comfortably but then left. It was getting dark anyway. Now, if I could just make it 5 escalators down without finding something else I "needed".

No! The answer is no. I found the home shop!!! OMG. I almost made it out but then there it was, pillows, blankets, beds, couches, lamps and SO CUTE! I went back and forth between pillows and bedding. The new bedding made itself into the fitting room with me where I left it deciding I was not there for bedding. But neither was I there for the clothes necessarily but it didn't stop me from getting another top with tank for underneath...woops.

Okay...long blog but in the end I will tell you, after doing all of these things by myself today I am starting to feel like I live here. Despite the fact that I still know practically nothing about the culture and language I have made my way through today. I owned everything about today and I began to feel at home. Maybe it is because I am returning to me, the girl who takes on the world. Or maybe I am on an endorphin high from my retail therapy. either way, it was a great day.

today

2008-09-16T09:45:00.000-07:00

Today is the day my parents decided to make me.

30 years ago today, my parents got married. I wonder what the future looked like for them as they stood face to face on that alter. Did they want a forever? Was there something they knew but thought it would pass? Maybe love just wasn't enough? They didn't know it that day, but their relationship ended, 18 years ago...a longer relationship apart than together. But on this day, playing The Beattles, Will You Still Love me When I'm 64, walking down the isle, my parents made this world for me.

It happens.

you know it

2008-09-16T09:35:00.000-07:00

a place where meetings

become a game of old lady or go fish

and emails read aloud

become poetry from

the devil

human nature at its worst

studied behind

a suit jacket

bathroom walls provide

the only moment of true privacy

while a cauldron of speculation

brews in the coffee vendor

just outside the door

sing it sister

2008-09-16T09:30:00.000-07:00

I also just realized that I am here representing America. All of it. I am "those" Americans. Now I know how Whitney Houston felt when she sang, I'm Every Woman. Seriously.

Learnt

2008-09-16T09:25:00.000-07:00

backlog - more deep thoughts from August 22nd.

I am remembering laying on "A's" bed with him. It was his bed I desired. His bed represented warmth, safety, comfort and accommodation. My bed felt utilitarian at best, yes it coordinated with my room but I was in no position, or was without personal permission to spend the money and effort into making it my palace. His was a palace, a fortress. Sentimental of the way I felt crawling into my mother's bed as a small child while she held me watching her late night TV. I found that in "A's" bed.

It is amazing how a piece of furniture and some textiles can do that. I am amazed.

well look what I found

2008-09-16T09:04:00.000-07:00

Back log : August 22nd

I miss Portland more than ever right now. I am jealous of the people drinking their coffees at Stumptown or Opposable Thumbs or having a beer at Side St. or sipping a glass of wine at Lupa - walking up and down the streets of Alberta or Mississippi after breakfast at the Tin Shed or Gravy. Laying as a hung over mess on the grass outside of moxie.

I am a Portlander. I am a Portlander. What a tremendous source of pride I get from saying that and how threatened I feel when I see others enjoying it without me. I am a Portlander. I am the girl with the bangs who does my part to save the planet, who wears skinny jeans and spends $5 on an avocado - who looks for food from local organic growers and care that my hair and face products weren't tested on animals nor do they have a 30 sec. spot on some TV

station that I don't watch. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. I am a true Portlander, there is not another place I'd rather be (unless on holiday or for short term employment).

Getting ready to leave

2008-09-16T08:45:00.000-07:00

Perhaps part of the process for moving to another country is scrutinizing over every lifestyle cliche where you are currently living. This certainly happened to me and I wrote this poem to express myself :

I am Portland

I live in Portland

I am a girl or boy

I am the only black person in the room

My hispanic friends live in the burbs

My hair hasn't been washed in 2-4 days

I use all natural, organic make-up, face and body wash

I have bangs

I wear skinny jeans

and so do my friends

I tote a yoga mat to my yoga classes

I wear crocks

My diet consists of organic everything

I believe in good :

wine

chocolate

cheese

salt

flowers

and I let everyone know it

I loathe plastic grocery bags and anyone else who uses them

I use the same water bottle because plastic is sufficating the environment.

I do my part to save the environment

My look is subtle

and chic

don't forget chic

only people from the suburbs

coordinate, iron or tuck

their clothing

it is important for them to be noticed

not me

I'm subtle

and chic.

Stick it where the sun don't shine.

2008-09-16T08:40:00.000-07:00

This SUCKS! WHAT THE FUCK! After what seems like a year I finally receive my $300 check. A miracle check just to survive and not live out of my supervisor's wallet. I think I can make it. Like a happy ignorant dog I enter the bank, tail wagging, eyes glossy, ready to present my check.

TWO FUCKING WEEKS to turn this check into real money.

that one stung a little.

homie don't play

2008-09-16T08:37:00.000-07:00

I wanted to tell her she owed me a beer (the one my predecessor left me in the fridge when he exited was somehow missing when I arrived)...

...though in retrospect, I'm sure there were a lot of things she would like to "tell" me.

I made it, now what?

2008-09-16T08:12:00.000-07:00

Back log : August 11th 2008

Life is interesting. I want my friends around. I realized I have allowed them to participate in defining me as a person. Today I hung out with D and R and though I was relieved to be in the presence of familiar faces I realized I was put together with these people (thank goodness we're all on the same wave length) but these are not "my" people, "my" girls, "my" peeps. Yes, it's great to hang with the dudes but I have also come to learn the importance of female perspective in my life.

Today we adventured over to R's house. His apartment is small but he is right on the lake. We swam in the lake for probably a good hour. The lake was filled with seaweed which constantly tickled my legs and arms. I tried to not believe it was the loch ness monster. I often found myself wandering close to the shore where I could stand on the hardened pebbles. The water temperature was refreshing. It was a light liquid breeze. In some areas it was closer to a hot breath but if I pushed to one side it changed back into my cool breeze.

We took a trip to Imazu afterwards to hit up the Heiwado (Heiwado ga doko desu ka? <--- Go R!! He asked 'where is the Heiwado' like he knew Japanese! ps the Heiwado is sorta like a walmart - like an everything store) As all shopping malls go, I was quickly overwhelmed. It was worsened by the constant over stimulation of Japan.

There was a wonderful moment when I was watching the most adorable little girl probably 1 or 2 laughing and frolicking around. As soon as she spotted me (though it was probably Dale) her smile stopped, her eyes widened and she ran behind her father. She was scared of us. Of us. I had no idea a white person could cause such fear. I suppose some black people could empathize. Why do people fear people because of their ethnicity? Never mind.

There is a thunder storm outside right now, thank the humidity.

ps...they played Tegan and Sara The Con in the Heiwado!

taken

2008-09-15T07:12:00.000-07:00

Besides finding out where this life takes me, I just want to be taken. I want to not think but just be lead around by the breeze. I suppose the difference between ignorance and education is that while I am being taken around I have honed my abilities to observe. I am not aimless in my quest for spontaneity. At least I think observation and self reflection is what I am learning in Japan while I am being taken in by this life.

this doesn't make sense anymore and I'm still posting it.

rabbit people you may be wondering....

2008-09-14T06:25:00.000-07:00

I had the strangest dream the other night, filled with the most vivid imagery. It was a 5 parter but overall it was artistically charged starring my sister Katie (with her boa constrictor), Abby Dalton (giving me an umbrella that had a "moral" question as she jumped off a second level of an outside shopping area backwards. Her dark plaid umbrella opened and assisted in floating her safetly down to the level below.) And then there they were....the rabbit people.

I noticed someone shaking two rabbits by their tails. They were for supper, naturally. As I glanced up to see who was going to be eatin these little soft tails, I noticed these "people" were rabbits themselves, rabbit people. They noticed I was staring at them. I could tell by the, 'what the fuck are you looking at' expressions on their furry faces. One of them was wearing metal rimmed glasses and peasant clothes. They were across the pond from me in a haze. I looked away immediately. Before I woke up I found myself walking through a tarp to see the fish caught from that day, giant, half dead, very colorful fish, floating in a blue plastic kids pool. There is so much more to this dream of course but let this be the appetizer to wet your pallet for my blog, blurbs.