Departure

I usually finish packing for a trip with a mindset of the glass is half empty variety. I can never quite reach the point where I say, "Okay, I am confident I have packed everything I can possibly need for this trip." After last night's and this morning's last minute rummaging, I am now at the "I am sick of imagining all possible scenarios where I'm missing something, so I'm just gonna give up packing and get out, right after I stuff in an extra pair of boxers" stage. I'm good to go, I think.

It's 11 hours to Bangkok, I got plenty of boxers, my PADI card and log, and 66,666 yen. The sun is shining and I'm wearing my Birks. Hit it.

Logging off,
la-gon.

They come as sterile sisters

It looks like the blog name change plus some heavy-handed editing of past posts weren't enough to keep my students, past and present, from searching for the blog. And they swarm like a black monstrous tide of African driver ants--and not unlike these ant armies, they are all female, and sterile, as far as I'm concerned. Everyday I check statcounter to find new searches, now more elaborate and content-conscious than simply their own names, hitting the target.

Time for me to get used to the super public.

It's a sad, sad day in sports

Pic courtesy of shanghaiist.

Why study? - no more

Some of you might remember this post back in November 14, 2005 about my ninensei's written answers to why they study English. I have taken it off this blog. Also, the name of this blog has been changed temporarily to romanji.

Because I think some of my students have come across the blog by searching for their names in that post entry. Akita-kun, Rumi-san, Tokunaga-kun and Yamashita-san, I'm onto you.

More on this later. I'm off to drink my ass off with other teachers.

中和違った漢字

床 (ゆか）
Japanese: floor.
Chinese: bed.

床体操 (ゆかたいそう）
Japanese: floor exercises (as in gymnastics)
Chinese: bed exercises (hmm...I read a short bio of some Japanese タレント who listed 床体操 as his 特技 or talent).

My hoop dreams

I played like shit at last Wednesday's practice. I was put on a team with plenty of bigs-types but absolutely no ball handling, so I took over point guard duties out of necessity. I dropped, lobbed and no-looked a number of dimes in the first game, since my targets were big and plentiful right under the basket. But after that, the other teams figured out that there was no one on our team who could handle, myself included. So I started seeing lots of double teams and traps at half court. It didn't feel good to be stripped multiple times barely beyond the 10 second line.

Ball handling and perimeter footwork are things I have been working on a ton in the gym on my own for the past few months. Realizing that marathon training had obliterated what little fast twitch fibers I could muster in my, shall we say unconventional, baller body, and that I could not use my quickness, which was only above average (for someone 5'9"...okay fine 5'8 1/2") on the OC black tops to begin with, against these spry Japanese 1's and 2's, I had no choice but to start on the fundamentals (since you can't exactly return to something you've never done) if I want to derive more joy than frustration out of playing basketball. I gave up my pool time (both water and felt) in exchange for wooden floors and weights (core, shoulders and legs in lieu of beach muscles), I surf the web for any training methods and coaching tips I could find, I even bought videos.

And it has been a series of nagging aches and rude awakenings ever since. Last January it was the realization that I could not trust my left hand for 3 dribbles against pressure. In the fall it was the visits to the chiropractor. Just a couple of month ago, it was seeing my minutes dropping from a quarter against the worst team in the league, to a few trash minutes in the 20 point first round blowout, to DNP in our semi-final loss. Most recently, that rude awakening came in the form of the back numbers of the player(s) going the other way for uncontested layups after stripping me bare at half-court.

So I went to school Friday thinking not about my 4 classes or the video letters I'm supposed to edit, but which 2-ball handling drills I should work on after school. A night of bad practice or bad game is usually followed by drilling by myself after school or me Jordanizing middle school boys at lunch break pickups. And now those handful of 3rd years with whom I play everyday at lunch, whose genuine excitement about basketball cannot be more evident judging by the amount of English they attempt with me at lunch versus in the classroom, are graduated and gone. Earlier this week, I stopped fighting ichinensei dodgeballers and girls peppering volleyball for basketball space during lunch.

But there are sweeter things in life than a full rack of balls and an empty gym after school.

After school Friday, Mura(yama Shuhei) and (Yamamoto) Kenta, 2 graduated ex-3rd-year students, came into the staff room asking for Jeff-sensei.

"Jeff-sensei, えと, could you teach us basketball?"

I spent the next hour and a half sweating with two to-be high schoolers who aren't even my students anymore. I showed them my check-list of basketball handling and shooting exercises, taught them the proper footwork for 1-2 jumpers and jump stops. I didn't do any of my 2-ball drills. It was barely above freezing outside, my work shirt was a darker shade of blue and even my slacks were drenched in sweat, but as I rebound their errant jump shots I never felt happier or more fulfilling as a teacher at Nakayama jr. high. In the end, Mura thanked me, and Kenta asked if he can come back next Monday. They wanted to work hard because they were about to join their high school basketball teams--something I tried twice but never did once.

Maybe on Monday, after some half-court 1-on-1 drills, I can get them to scream "Yes Sensei!"

Judgment day, Pt 2.1

The mood inside the staff room was heavy all afternoon. Not dead silence like my 2nd year (soon to be 3rd) English class, but forced banters and chuckles.

大塲弘子 Oba Hiroko was the only student of the 6 who walked in the staff room today. She walked in smiling embarassingly and looked for Nakashima-sensei, the school nurse who also doubles as the school crying pillow.

Nakashima: あった?
Oba: あってないし。

I was surprised she said it loud enough for everyone to hear. She of all the kids do not deserve the private school treatment. The teachers recommended her for the early-admission process to some school because they were afraid that she would fail. She's kind of like the Rudy of the class: an underdog in every way but never tried less than her hardest at everything. She's earnest about everything from serving lunch to running the 3K school marathon. During the year, we had a in-class English speech contest and the topic was a very Japanese "How my family in 20 years will divide household chores." I walked by Oba and saw that she had finished her written speech so I asked her to read it aloud for me. She didn't go like "え！？　何を言った！?" and joke about being spoken to in English to the rest of her friends, which is the typical reaction I get. She just asked me to repeat what I said (a very underrated response) and read me her speech. I told her that it was good, but during the real speech she should look at her audience more instead of staring at her paper. She nodded and I fully expected that remark to be forgotten like the rest of it.

During the real thing, she stepped up to the front of the class, and recited her entire speech by heart. The students could read their speech and memorization was not required or even expected for this assignment. Keep in mind, this is a girl who has to study her butt off just to get a 65% on her English tests.

I call her the Rudy of the class not only because she tries hard, but everybody else knows it and respects it. Frankly her speech was not very good in either content nor delivery and I would've given her a generous C+ if it was up to me. But the students themselves were the judge, and she got the highest score of anybody in the class. Another example: her name is O-BA, and in school we call all the girls -SAN and all the boys -KUN. O-BA-SAN is what teachers call her, and O-BA-A-SAN means grandma. Nobody calls her grandma. In Jr. high, that's like the equivalent of everybody calling someone like Richard Small as Rich.

尾古百合恵 Oko Yurie
影山　美有 Kageyama Miyu
宮本はるか Miyamoto Haruka
佐子　夏希 Sako Natsuki
福留　　直 Fukudome Nao

are the other 5. Besides Oko and Sako, let's just say that I was not surprised to find the other 3 failing their entrance exams.

I ran out of steam and stories. Maybe some other time.

Judgment day, Pt 1

Today at 12pm was when the high school entrance exam results are posted. A few teachers went to the individual high schools in the morning and phoned the results back to the staff room. Students have been streaming back to school for the past couple hours to find out their fate.

Here's how entrance to a Japanese high school works. There is a prefectural-wide standardized entrance exam for all the public high schools. Each school take a combination of that test score, plus each student's Jr. high grades, application essay, face-2-face interview, etc. (different for each school) into account when making their choices of admission. But in reality admission is still heavily weighed by entrance exam results.

The stupid thing is, each student can only name one "choice" of public high school for which to take the test. Yes, although the test is all the same for all public high schools, each student can only test for a single one. Failing that, the student is basically shit outta luck. For kids like this, the only options are:

1) Private high schools. These you can test for as many as you'd like and is a viable and safe option in metro areas like Tokyo where the quality of private schools usually equal or surpass their public counterparts. And since private school tests are on different days than the public ones, most students take private school tests first as backup (in metro areas, kids take public school tests, which are generally worse, as backup). Unfortunately, private schools in an inaka like Tottori are basically dumping grounds for rejects and academic dead-ends for those with university aspirations. Also, they cost a shit ton more.

2) Sit out and try again a year later. These kids are called 浪人 ronin, homeless samurai. Kawabata Misaki 川端雅樹 is an example, a 3rd year student from last year who repeated another year of jr. high this year (I think most ronin enter cram school fulltime instead). A great thing for a teeanger's psyche really. I think he passed into Yonago North this time, but I have never seen a more defeated 16 year old than him this past year. Every time he shows up for school (sparingly) is like minor celebration of him not yet comitting suicide.

3) Hope for the rare times when some schools don't fill their quota and open up a 2nd round of admission. A long shot even for the schools nobody wants to go. Near impossibility for the most competitive quality schools.

This year, 6 students failed to get into the high school of their choice. On the bright side, everyone passed entrance into a safety private school so they've got somewhere to go if they choose to.

Birthday woes

Today is Jeff's birthday.

Confession 1:
I had no idea until some online organizer thingy (Yahoo! calendar? Gmail address book? Friendster?) reminded me. Happy birthday Jeff.

Confession 2:
I'm not really sure if his birthday is today (3/15 JST) or tomorrow (3/15 Eastern).

Confession 3:
I'm horrible with birthdays. I'm worse than horrible with birthdays. To wit:

* My brother's birthday is 8/19...I think.
* Heidi's birthday is either 6/1, 6/30, or 7/1.
* Heidi's cousin's birthday is 7/25. Even though I've only met her like once or twice, I know hers as well as mine--because it is mine.
* My dad's birthday is 1/20. This year was the first time I actually knew without a reminder, and only because that's the day before my uncle's wedding. I got major points for flying back to Taipei on this day, unknowingly.
* Simona's birthday is 11/24 and our anniversary is 12/3. I know these like the back of my blog (and I 2xchecked my expenses spreadsheet too).
* My mom's birthday is 6/29. I didn't even know I had once written this down on my blog.
* The birthdays of both of my grandmas, grandpa, Mark, Chris, Eric, Pennawitz (sometime in Oct), Von (sometime in April? May?), Ev, Dave, B-do, and just about everyone else whom I have the pleasure of calling a friend, are all mysteries to me.

I guess I can't really be too upset about Von reminding me about Dave's birthday on my birthday. Oh yeah.

* Dave's birthday is 7/27.

So, pretty please, can I get a (insert that word on the tip of my tongue, last read in a sports column, which means having a one-time, no-strings free pass): if you come across this post, could you just email me with your birthday lest I suffer the guilt of forgetting/not ever knowing it?

(update 4/18/06: Thanks to all of those who allwed me a mulligan and re-reminded me of their birthdays.)

My most recent stressors

This morning I had the recurring dream in which I play a piano during freefall*. I had promptly dismissed its significance when I woke up, but now, sitting at my desk during my free period, I am having waves of dizzyiness and the sensation of vertigo.

Rarely do I have physical sensations of stress. Besides vertigo, I sometimes have this sensation of everything outside of me happenning in slo-mo, but my mind is jumping from one thing to another in ludicrious speed. These symptoms are usually concurrent with hyperventilation and being unpleasantly sensitive to the tactile texture of everthing. The strange thing is, as much as these sound like panic attacks, I think I am actually unwilling to let go of these symptoms when I'm having them, as if they are some kind of a high. Maybe they are what methamphetamine binges feel like.

Anyway, I'm not feeling any of these things right now, just a little bit dizzy and cloudy. Maybe it's just the drinks from last night's dinner, or it could be my most recent sources of stress which I will list here in an effort to make them seem more manageable to me.

Event: Trip to Thailand on 3/25.
Analysis: Lots to pack and prepare and plan for. Also, the trip becomes a mental deadline and I pressure myself to resolve everything by then so that I can relax and enjoy the vacation.
Solution: C'mon. This is supposed to be my vacation.

Event: CLAIR Japanese correspondance course
Analysis: The test is due 3/28, so I should finish the book and mail it out before Thailand.
Solution: Not a problem since I have just 10 more lessons to go.

Event: Filing tax return.
Analysis: Simona is doing hers and planning to send it out before Thailand. We would only have a week before the deadline after we get back, so I think I should do the same.
Solution: Not a problem since I'm again paying $0 to Uncle Sam this year. Should be nothing but simple, painless straightforward form-filling.

Event: Form 6166
Analysis: My biggest stressor. I need to file this to get my U.S. Residency Certification so that I can exempt myself from Japanese income tax. I had filed this twice last year, but the IRS was unable to process my application because it does not have my 2003 income tax return on record!? This was last April and I had completely forgotten (refused to remember) about this. I was recently reminded by the Daisen town office of this, and I really need to get the certification before I leave Japan or I might face terrible consequences. Exactly what, I have no idea now, but probably something like fiery death or having to pay back 2 years worth of Japanese income tax.
Solution: Make the phone call you've been putting off for a year, and contact IRS after basketball tonight and find out what the hell is going on. Worse comes to worst, I think I filed the 2003 return with H&R Block, so find that Joe whatshisface for more info. And stop worrying about it, it'll get resolved eventually.

Event: Jon and Kate's visit to Japan.
Analysis: Jon and Kate's in Tokyo now for their spring break. They booked a Tokyo hotel for the entire week and a half so it is unlikely that they will visit Tottori period, or even Kyoto for more than a day trip, before they leave this Sunday. Tokyo is a 8 hour bus ride away and Kyoto 4, trains are way more expensive and not much faster because of Okayama transfer. I want to see them while they're in Japan, but I don't want to spend more time on the bus than actually seeing them. Next Tuesday is a nationaly holiday, but I can't take Monday off because we have an enkai Monday night.
Solution: (tentative) Sorry Jon. I wish I could.

Event: To be added.
Analysis: That sinking feeling that I'm forgetting something.
Solution: Just update and add to the list as necessary, and I will eventually find the time to deal with them.

See, isn't that easy? Now you feel free and ready to take on the world and the falling piano!

*I think I've had this recurring dream ever since kindergarten or early elementary. It was probably due to a combination of too many hours of unenjoyable piano practice followed by too many episodes of Disney cartoon (especially the one that involves Mickey and friends playing a symphony inside a tornado).

White day with a brownish shade

A cold front came over the weekend, and even though it is now March and snow's been melting on Daisen for a couple weeks now, my corner of Japan is once again covered in brown.

....what!? (insert photo)

Well it isn't yellow snow, but when I went down to my car this morning, I thought that the someone had decided to spread his bladder infection on my windshield. But the stuff was, and still is, falling everywhere. Happy brownish White day!

After some poking around, I found out that the brown snow is caused by desert sand blown from China.

引き籠り

Hikikomori means to be a recluse. This is apparently an emerging problem among Japanese youths according to this NYT article, which has interesting insights into the flaws of the Japanese society and the psychology of Japanese (mostly)men within it.

I hate to think about it this way, but these hikikomori kids remind me of those jobless and clueless times between graduating college and moving to DC, and to a much lesser extent, between DC and Japan.

And it's somewhere I do not want to visit after I leave Japan. It's time to get back in touch with my ex-profs and hop back on the horse and re-re-re-restart writing my statement of purpose.

The Graduates

Today was graduation day for the 3rd year students. They just finished their high school entrance tests on Thursday, and they will find out where they will or will not spend their next 3 years next Tuesday.

I didn't take any pics like I did last year. I'm just more or less numb and apathetetic to the whole designer tear-jerking experience. I didn't even bother to go to the post-graduation enkai with the rest of the staff and opted to stay home, because deep down I know that my graduation experience is not going to be the same as the students' or the teachers'.

I have watched these kids for 2 years. Even as an observer, I can see the growth and maturity that are happening to (most of) them in these critical years. But, "observer" is the key word--just how much of my non-involvement has a tangible effect on these kids' lives?

The students cry at graduation because their lives as they've known it for the past 3 years are coming to an end, the teachers cry because their years of labor and dogma are coming to fruition, I cry because I just haven't done all that I could for them because of my own disenchantment about my place as a gaijin in Japan.

---
(updated 3/13/06) It seems that I may have been a victim of the opposite of the Spellbound by Japanese Exocitism Syndrome.

Dreamt

(dreamer's note: I think I was giggling as I opened my eyes this morning. The alarm sounded almost immediately after at 6:52am. I snoozed and tried to get back to finish the interview but couldn't return to the dream. I got out of bed again at 7am and jotted down this note in my boxers, from which this dream is more or less truthfully recollected in over 1400 words)

I was sitting in my living room in Taipei with Dad, grandpa and Bono, and we're all watching a Rockets' game. The conversation revolved mostly around Yao Ming's toughness. Dad and grandpa teamed up to debate against me, and Bono was just sitting and expressionless behind his orange sunglasses. He looked bored.

"So, you're having a concert tomorrow at Tottori City right?" I asked the obvious question, since Simona is going to Tottori City tomorrow for the show--I wasn't going because I'm not a fan.

"Yeah, it should be fun. Are you coming? You want tickets?" Bono looked grateful that somebody involved him in the conversation and talked about Bono rather than basketball.

"Nah, busy. So, I heard that you're meeting your host family for dinner afterwards?"

"How'd you know?" Bono was genuinely surprised.

"Oh, Nikki told me." Nikki was (Irish? Scottish?) a Brit ex-JET from last year, the kind of girl most guys love and most girls hate. It is she and her Japanese host family with whom Bono is having dinner. I have no doubt Bono was one of those guys who love Nikki.

Flash cut to a college dorm room made into a makeshift living room, a bunch of us were lounging on the second-hand couches covered with plaid, and drinking mixed drinks out of those blue or red 18oz plastic cups. I was enamored with this tiny blond girl with braces, despite the fact that I unconsciously (inside my dream) thought that she looked more like a 5th grader. The group is going to a big dance party in Tottori City/EBF (dreamer's note: this was kind of hard to explain, in the dream the party somehow simultaneously takes place at Tottori and Enchanted Broccoli Forest, a party/drug house at Stanford). The 5th grade blond didn't want to go at first, but then found out who the band's bass player was a boy named Marcus she changed her mind. I had something to do in the morning so I went back to my dorm room.

---
(dreamer's note: this part is also kind of hard to explain. on my walk back to my dorm room I think I had some kind of out-of-dream-body experience and somehow was able to witness the scene of the Tottori City/EBF party where everybody was going)

The street leading to the party was packed. All sorts of beautiful people were looking beautiful while waiting in line. I was starting to feel like I should have gone to the party with the 5th grade blonde. However I didn't mind my corporeal absence from the bumpin party so much after I found that, because of my out-of-dream-body experience, I was able to cut right through the lines, past the maze of chill out area, and straight into the heart of the dancefloor. It was taking place inside a theater-like space--larger than a common room of a typical college dorm, but nevertheless a college dorm common room made into a makeshift theater. The stage was covered with a thick red velvet curtain spattered with gray duct tape, and the same 5th grade girl, now with jet black hair and thick mascara stood on it and introduced the band:

"I was real good friend with Marcus when I was in the 5th grade, but after Marcus moved away, I realized that I really had a crush on Marcus in the 6th grade (note: notice how the chronology is vague and the 5th grade blond/brunette's exact age is still unknown). Now that I have the chance to reunite with Marcus again, I would like to introduce his band."

The curtain lifts. Bono was the bassist. No other U2 members in sight. And the music sucked. Somehow the beautiful people were still dancing with more enthusiasm than the lackluster music would suggest. I popped out of my out-of-dream-body experience.

---

Back to my dorm room. A bunch of 1st year JETs/freshmen (dreamer's note: refer to the Tottori City/EBF confusion) were running down my hallway in costumes. I had something to do in the morning but I joined the impromptu costume party. Again chilling in a makeshift common room with the not-so-beautiful people, my social confidence was soaring. I was sitting in a circle, joined by a guy with glasses and gold chain, plus 3 or 4 nondescript girls. The guy with glasses and gold chain posed me a question, a little bit too loudly, about what I thought about one girl's looks. I took off my glasses so I couldn't see the girl in question too clearly, and I answered "She looked great." I sat back and enjoyed the points I earned against the other girls. The guy with glasses and gold chain took my glasses from my hands, put his glasses on my face and asked the same question again. The girl was, as I suspected, atrocious looking with Mongol features. I answered "She looks as fine she usually does." I had just superjumped the flag pole and Super Mario Bro's end stage music was buzzing in my head as I counted up my points.

This went on and on. The guy with glasses and gold chain kept on switching my glasses with his glasses, and kept asking me to observe things or people around the room and give an opinion. (dreamer's note: it has just occured to me that, this must be symbolic of my deep rooted Freudian fear of optometrists) With each switch, my vision got narrower and narrower and I couldn't see anything other than the things the guy with glasses and gold chain told me to see. I must be hypnotized, I thought. I tried to fight it, but the more I fight it the more of my vision and will slipped out of my command. The other girls were under the same spell too.

After what seemed like an eternity, the first thing that popped into my mind's eye that wasn't under the command of the guy with glasses and gold chains, was Bono. Instead of commenting at the guy with glasses and gold chain's Pokemon collection, I mumbled something about Bono playing at this party in Tottori City/EBF.

"Who?" "Bono." "The singer?" "No, the bassist." "Marcus?" "Uh, yeah."
"What the hell are we wasting time here for?"

The guy with the glasses and gold chain left with all 3 or 4 girls. I went to bed.

---

I woke up the next morning, shitshavedandshowered, and walked to Tottori City and EBF. The streets were lined with partiers both passed out and passing out, ex-beautiful people covered in puke and trash. I caught glimpse of a girl with pink furry beret mime-ing her dance moves from the night before and calling it her "Dragon Punch."

(dreamer's note: I actually woke up a bit and went to the bathroom here, but was able to continue with the dreaming)

I ran into Charles Chan, who was covered with plastic beads and greeted me in Japanese. "I don't have time for you now Charles, let's catch up later." I dropped one in Japanese before making a reverse pivot/backdoor cut around him. (dreamer's note: Charles and I were basketball pickup friends in high school; Japanese was used in the dream for many of the exchanges, at least inside my head under some kind of subtitle mode, regardless of my ability to actually articulate those exchanges) I was in a rush so I can get my interview that morning.

Apparently the same night when Bono played Tottori City/EBF was also the night a sextet of opera singers finally finished their opera--their opera lasted 23 years, X months and some odd days. When I got to the opera house, which was only blocks away from both EBF and a shooting range, it was already packed with policemen, fans, and reporters from all over the world. I was too late but I had a plan. I approached one of the cops and told him that I was on the Olympic pistol shooting team. The cop was impressed, asked me to sign his pistol, and escorted me through the crowd. When I was escorted past the opera house, I jumped onto the singers' limo and stuck my head into the moon roof.

The 6 singers were all カギフライ (kagi-fries, or deep-fried oysters in beer batter) and kept inside the kind of clear plastic packaging you normally find in Japanese supermarkets. I, to my own surprise, was not at all fazed by this turn of development and proceeded to interview the deep-friend oyster opera singers, asking my questions in Japanese. Oh, and by the way, some Jeeve in tuxedo and white gloves were holding the oysters in his hands while I was trying to conduct the interview. The other reporters pushed through the blockade with their multi-lingual questions. I wanted to break the headline, so I ate the oysters. All 6 of them in 4 bites.

Deep thoughts

I like the sexual connotations of "going to the hole" or "getting to the rack" in basketball. I often do both.

I wonder about the environmental costs of using disposable chopsticks versus washing reusable chopsticks with detergent and water.

Note to self: learn to sing sakura.

Some Japanese friend once commented to me that it is interesting that Westerners sing Auld Lang Syne at New Year--a time for celebration, while the Japanese sing Auld Lang Syne at graduation in spring--a time for parting. But come to think of it...Japanese graduations happens at about the same time as the cherry blossoms--a time for new beginning. It's all the same bittersweet I guess.

Showing up in class with your fly open is embarassing.

Showing up in class, fully zipped but somehow leaving a corner of your shirt zipped up outside of your slacks, is infinitely worse.

(updated 3/15/06)
Could stream-of-consciousness writing be the antecessor of hyperlink?

I failed to get huge yesterday

But I did find one interesting OIJ tidbit via Japundit about the Butt Shaking Festival:

...held in January in Kokuraminami Ward in Kitakyushu, Fukuoka Prefecture. And I’m not joking about the festival’s name—there’s no other way to translate Shirifuri Matsuri.

...a Shinto priest and two other men emerge from the shrine, bend over, and shake their butts in imitation of the serpent. Because tradition states that the bigger the buttswings, the greater the harvest, the spectators cheer the men on to greater gluteal abandon by shouting, “Shake it harder, shake it harder!” That sort of encouragement has been known to occur in Western countries, too, but usually not directed to men, or to priests in a religious ceremony.

A year ago today

A year ago today I lifted for the first time in months.

Perhaps I will celebrate this monumental day by getting huge.

Wise words

The student government of Nakayama Jr. High decided to put inspirational aphorisms above all the school urinals (not sure about girls' bathrooms). Most are broken-record variations of "believe in self" or "reach for the stars" or something equally cheesy, but the one below has inspired me deeply during my pre-lunch visit to the urinal today:

自分が立っている場所を深く掘れ、
そこからきっと泉が出ってくる。

"If you dig deeply at into the spot you're stand on,
from there a fountain will surely emerge."

Tru dat.

Dance, Newsbot! Dance!

I hate posting as a newsbot, but I just couldn't help but share these interesting items I came aross so far today:

From The Buddhist Channel: Zen monks form labor union.

From The Salt Lake Tribune: AK47 receives no-strings-attached ammo.

From Xinhua.net: a chinked-out nigga straight out of Rochester, New York.

(warning to RSS subscribers: this post may be subject to constant updating over the next 8 hours)

3/2 dairy

(09:37) Today's an exam day for the 1st and 2nd years. I have no 3rd year classes today so aside from giving the brief listening section of the tests I'm free to sit around all day. Might as well make it more entertaining, for my sake.

(09:44) Today's to-do list: email Akemi re today's Japanese lesson; call travel agency about correcting my passport name; catch up on Evan's not-so-new blog; fill out February expenses excel; sit on my ass.

(10:05) Newest yahoo search courtesy of StatCounter: "kur­as­hiki-bar women diaries of court ladies of old japan". You know who you are.

(10:13) Simultaneously chatting with Simona and reading Evan's blog, still in August 05. I've always thought Evan was one of the best storytellers I know personally. I kept wanting to send his tidbits to Simona during our chat, but for some infuriating reason his blog does not allow copy and paste!

(10:27) Hate to say this: I'm no fan of baseball. Now I'm reading what probably amounts to a 1200 word treatise on the different pitches in his repertoire. He's better got some good stuff lined up or I'm just gonna walk (I'm trying my best with this baseball thing).

(11:24) Just finished delivering the 1st year listening test. Done with my official duties for the day.

(12:46) (after reading Ev's biz school essay) I know what you're trying to do Ev (wearing tinted sunglasses ala Rod Tidwell), I know what you're up to. No Ev, I'm not gonna cry...

(12:50) He is a fierce, loving individual, I love this man, he is love, he is about love - my ambassador of kwan, man.

(13:48) What's that swelled up, blood grapefruit red remains of a left eye? It could be the love, or it could be 桑本典明's finger in my eye during lunchtime basketball. I was so pissed that I taught the kids the proper intonation of f-u-c-k (plus a bonus lesson on how to get a T by slamming the ball on the floor). At least I could take comfort in the fact that Kuwamoto's spoken English seemed to have improved, judging from his ceaseless apologies. I think he wanted to say "I didn't mean it" when he kept mumbling "I didn't want to..." Yes, I know you didn't want to hurt me little guy. You can try but I might just hurt you back, RAAARRGGGGHH!

(14:04) Dammit. My left eye is still throbbing. And I think I'm seeing hyperlinks.

(14:05) Whew. The FFs in yoga/weight training helped ease the pain a bit.

(14:10) Okay. Copy and pasting works, the highlighting is kind of hard to see though. Sic itur ad astra. I'm proud to say that 4 years of high school Latin allowed me to understood 3/4 of that sentence.

(14:35) Up to November now. Think I will take a break.

(14:53) Fuck. I think I just broke my ketai. I don't think I had my cell phone in the pocket of the jacket I carelessly threw on the ground during lunch break basketball. The battery isn't dead, since the little screen on the outside still works. I could still make calls (called Zimona) which makes me believe that maybe I turned the screen off or something, but how do I turn it back on?

(15:03) Now how am I gonna get in touch with Akemi?

(15:22) Now how am I gonna cover my ass for yet skipping out on another lesson (though this time the excuse is legit) with Akemi?

(15:33) Ah. It can't be helped. Think I will go change and go for a shooting workout. A good change of pace from my 4-week beach muscle augmentation program.

(15:48) Dammit, the gym is locked. With kocho-sensei in the room I'm not sure if I can pull off saying "Can I have the keys to the gym so I can slack off and play basketball when I'm supposed to be paid to work?" in Japanese.

(16:48) Time to leave from my full day of work.

My newest Japanese masterpiece

Coming at you raw and uncut (i.e. unedited and full of mistakes)

Book 3 Monthly Test

Q31 あなたの住んでいる地域の郷土料理は、なんですか？
また、あなたの国の郷土料理は、何ですか？
日本語でまとめなさい。

カリフォルニアの郷土料理は、そのほかのアメリカの州に比較して、独特なことがあります。皆はカリフォルニアのことを考えして、たいていハリウッドとかシリコン谷とかを思い出すでしょう。でも、農産物で、カリフォルニアはほかの州よりはるかに生産力のあることを知っていますか？量だけでなく、いろいろの農産物もまた産出できます。もしカリフォルニアの１号線でドライブしたら、‘アーティチョークの首都’や‘ガーリックの首都’、‘オレンジの郡’という町を見えますよ。いろいろの農産物があるので、いろいろの料理を作る材料があるのです。さて、カリフォルニアの人々もさまざまです。白人ではなくラテン系アメリカ人とアジア人はカリフォルニアの大多数です。カリフォルニアには多様な民族が住んでいる州ですから、料理も多様なのです。
カリフォルニア料理は何ですか？　実は‘カリフォルニア料理’ということがないですけど、カリフォルニア特有の料理哲学が二点あります。まず、生野菜や果物、ハーブなどは一年中あるものなので、材料の新鮮さと自然の味は強調されます。簡素な料理方法のほうを好まれて、できれば材料を生で食べます。さて、いろいろの国の料理をよく組み合わせて、カリフォルニアから始まった‘フュ―ジョン’という料理作る。
例えば、‘カリフォルニアロール’を聞いたことがありますか？それはアボカドやマグロ、マヨネーズ、きゅうり、香菜などが入った手巻き寿司です。

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