Tuesday, August 31, 2004

behind door number 1

Dear Randleski,

In my professional opinion, human ears an incapable of hearing the reverberation of the quacking of a duck simply because most ducks are found in open areas, namely their habitat of ponds and/or traipsing across random streets when you’re late for work, areas which are typically inconvenient for hearing sound reflections. My advice to you, put a duck in a gymnasium or concert hall, make it quack, and prove the myth wrong for yourself…they do in fact have an echo…and I believe if you play it backwards it’ll tell you to put babies on spikes like crazy Eddie, but don’t listen to him.

As for the more difficult question, isn’t happiness relative to the individual moment? Right now, I’d be divinely happy with Steak n’ Shake, as we discussed earlier. But if you’d prefer a more ultimate happiness scenario, then I’d be “the happiest woman in the world” if I had the kind of lifestyle which allowed me the opportunity to be a perpetual student, travel across the globe at the drop of a hat, go to jazz clubs every Saturday night, watch indie films every Friday night, spend the fall in the country, hiking around Cumberland Falls, and the summers sailing to new destinations….none of which are mutually exclusive. I could survive without one or the other. But in all honesty, I think, well, hope at least, that’d I’d be happiest living a lifestyle conducive to accomplishment. I don’t know what exactly it is I plan on doing, and I pray it’s not simply one thing, but as long as I can reach some level of accomplishment that not only self serves my need for achievement, but also improves the condition of society on some small level…whether by my words, or physical actions, I’d be “the happiest woman in the world.”

Free-flowing Dr. Pepper for the masses wouldn’t hurt either…I’m just saying, it makes the world taste better!

Monday, August 30, 2004

An eye on all my horses, you've slept with all my men

A friend recently pointed out that despite years of friendship she felt she knew very little about me, and I find that’s true in the case of most of my friends. The only explanation I can give, in the simplest of terms, is that my personality and interests adapt to fit the person(s) I am in contact with. I have very diverse interests, and therefore very diverse friends. When I’m around certain people I tend to walk on eggshells not to offend them for fear that they’ll think less of me. Bad habit I realize, for then my friends only experience the side of me that corresponds to their own personality. Occasionally I dodge questions I deem personal, or which I feel I can’t commit an answer to. My personality is very amorphous, and I can barely form an opinion before having something new thrown in my face, forcing me to readjust, or even scratch the entire opinion and start anew. So I hope this explains a little as to the why…..but let’s move on to the who. Who am I? I fear I can’t possibly answer that…there’s too much and too little to tell. So, let’s settle this thing once and for all. This week shall be dedicated to any lingering, or new, questions you may have for me….anything at all. No holds bar.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Ah, a song just came on which reminds me of Liz…so here’s to you: crashing into parked cars, running from the cops, dancing on dryers, “Tom Smith” house parties, pep boys beer bongs, Cuomosexual you!

Come out, Virginia. Don't let me wait.
You Catholic girls start much too late,
Oh, but sooner or later, it comes down to fate.
I might as well be the one.

Well, they showed you a statue, told you to pray.
They built you a temple and locked you away,
Oh, but they never told you the price that you pay
For things that you might have done.
Only the good die young.
That's what I said
Only the good, die young

Wednesday, August 25, 2004

literary brilliance

Ode to Spain
An Epic Limerick by Allison Martin

Ode to the memories of Spain
Where school sometimes drove us insane
But we traveled a lot
And fight we did not
I’ll be sad when i get on the plane.

Ode to a fabulous culture
To paintings, retablos, sepulcres
There’s pee on the ground
And poop all around
And the gardens could use a good mulcher.

Ode to the teachers we found
Where the phrase “Vale Chicos” abounds
Though Sara Miller is mean
And Ernesto obscene
José Grillo is the coolest around.

Ode to the love people found
And to love back at home safe and sound
But those that did stray
If I meet them one day
I’ll kick ’em in the balls to the ground!

Ode to the ice cream in Florence
Too bad Semana Santa rained in torrents
Feria was neat
The coffee here is sweet
Shit...nothing rhymes here but Joey Lawrence...

Ode to believing in Jebus
To trips to Granada on a free bus
Time went by quick
And no one got sick
With the flu or with SARS amebus. =)

Ode to green monkey poo
To photocopies brought in lieu
Of passports that may
Not work in seven days
It still amazes me that Lauren flew!

Ode to Byzantine art
With which I’ll be glad to part
But not with D’Orsay
And the house of Monet
In a city that captured my heart.

Ode to every new friend
And the old ones who’s friendships extend
If you ever are sad
Or even just mad
A smile I always will lend.

And so this week’s our last chance
To drink, to laugh and to dance
It’s Spain we will miss
It has really been bliss
And another thing –
DON’T YOU HATE PANTS??

(too good to not revisit and share every once and a while) what else can i find on this computer?.............

Top eleven reasons why it rocks to be prez of youth in government:

11. Irish guys
10. ice cream socials with Mr. Postley
9. sexy survey says…..
8. If George W. can do it, anyone can
7. “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.” ~ Margaret Mead
6. the closest a female will ever get to the REAL presidency
5. “You must be the change you wish to see in the world.” ~ Gandhi
4. My land is Thailand
3. Big E, MACS, ‘Lena, and Brad
2. Lay me….I’m Lebanese
1. Behold the power of the gavel!!!!

(WOW, that's old...when did I even write this?)

WTF man, wtf?

"Hi Lauren! How are you? Direction [ it can go to the
English-conversation classroom ]. 7:30 p.m. (Good evening
everyone !! how are you ?) It begins, even if all the
members are not coming. (Then, let's begin an
English-conversation classroom.) a nearby man's name
calling etc. (aren't there any new occurrences?) etc.it
is heard I consider that it is better to talk from the man
on the left-hand side of you at this time. If it finishes
talking briefly "which I prepare next time and is made
with your nameplate" "shall then,( let's carry out a text?
Please open 2 pages of a text. It's nice to met you.1
CONVERSATION) You do nomination someone, talk and show,
and make a pair make and practice after that." Probably,
"practicing [ Isn't there any question? / Please become
every two persons' pair and ] since it then gives for 3
minutes" No6 SAYING HELLO Will be good in my having you
talk by your nominating and two persons coming out at a
time in front. 8:25 p.m. "which is shy of all and does not
come out unless it nominates" It stops in a place with a
sufficient pause. (Aren't there any questions in the place
of today?) A question is heard and it answers. If it
finishes "thank you for coming today. Moreover, let's meet
you next week. In the parttimer of" Japan, the price is
1000 yen from 700 yen per hour. You can receive 1 paddle
of 5400 yen. By the way, the fireworks display on the 29th
should come with Mis. Torigoe. If the weather avoids,
barbecue of the Japanese style will be carried out in the
yard, and the place beautiful fireworks appear is
prepared.
Takafumi Noguchi"


Um, okay?

I am the proudest monkey

Revelation time! We have finally solved the conundrum that is Japanese fashion. If you would like to emulate the style worn by all Japanese under the age of 30, follow these simple instructions.

1. Go to GoodWill, or, for that matter, any thrift store, vintage store, or garbage pile, and buy/steal $100 worth of clothes.
2. Put them all on, at once...layers, lots of layers people.
3. Now go out in public.

----------------------------------------------------------------------
I saw a guy wipe out on his bike yesterday. Just completely ate the sidewalk. I thought for sure I'd be the first, but no....surprisingly not.

---------------------------------------------------------------------
The Board of Education threw me a welcoming party on Monday....no one told me about it. Hence, I was not there, and hence, it sucked...meh...it would have sucked with or without my presence.

hooray for Japanese organizational skills!

---------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm expected to discuss my team teaching ideas and lesson plans with the first grade teacher in about 20 minutes. WHAT?!?!?!?!? You mean this entire time I've been sitting on my ass doing absolutely nothing save stooping to an all time boredom low I was supposed to be doing work? I thought I was just getting paid to add some ambiance. Right good job I'm doing of it too. Crap, what am I supposed to do now?

----------------------------------------------------------------------
In case you're wondering, I'm STILL sick of rice. Neh, repulsed by rice is more like it. Well done indeed...sure I can manage 11 more months.

Monday, August 23, 2004


"Bali Hai" (your own special isalnd) okay, I'm done singing.

Dai and Chiharu breaking it down. (p.s. can you SEE the people in the background? Envy me....now. Go on...I'll wait.)

Karaoke + Asahi + Emily = BAD COMBO!

for some reason Gaer always seems to be dancing.

I'm feeling so bohemian like you

Long, eventful, awkward weekend.

Friday evening was spent at the Lantern Festival with the gang, then off to a tea ceremony, followed by 5 HOURS of karaoke. That goes beyond the realm of adequate cultural exchange into the world of pure and unadulterated insanity. Luckily, Gaer paid for all 10 of us, and I got drunk, really quickly. I’m starting to look like an alcoholic to these people...especially considering I out-drank the 300 lb. hulk that is J. Good times.

Saturday morning = not so much fun. Completely hung over I was forced to bowl. And we’re not talking docile American style bowling. We’re talking pachinko style people…blaring techno music, flashing lights, hot pink shoes and one incredible headache. As if the act of bowling alone didn’t cause enough mental torment, I was subjected to embarrassment beyond belief. When it was all over and I thought I was in the clear, ready to get the hell outta there, the announcer called my name to award me a prize. A PRIZE?!?!?!?! I suck, I mean seriously suck, at bowling. I have no talent….none. How bad must these people be that I won a prize? It’s a sad, sad world folks.

That night was better, though I was forced into explaining the lurid details behind my clowning days. How does this always come up? Am I a sucker for self-humiliation? I think I have explained, in detail, every waking moment of my life from age 2 through present to my convo class….but they still want more. This is too much, I need help here. I’ve never shared half of this stuff with anyone…for good reason.

Sunday was, weird, to say the least. Dai, Chiharu, Masa and I made the 2 hour journey to Fukuoka City then took a ferry to Isla de Salsa. I can’t possibly describe this scenario to you. Picture 5,000 Japanese, a handful of Spaniards and a smaller spattering of Americans, a remote South Pacific island, no rhythm, and a whole lotta salsa. OUCH. Mix in a few beers, scantily dressed women (shaking everything they’ve got to no avail) and what do you get? MTV beach house meets Japanimation seizing on the beach.

But I had fun. So hey, whatever works right?

Thursday, August 19, 2004

North of Normal

I had a dream I was grocery shopping last night. So I guess it could be constituted as a nightmare, given my deep fear and hate of all things grocery-esque. Food is food, who cares what it tastes like....unless that is, it's raw horse. AND THEN WE DON'T GO NEAR IT PEOPLE. Raw horse. Who eats raw horse? Funny Side, hacked into tiny bits and served on a plate makes for a delicacy here. I've been trying to hold off on disgusted facial looks while talking to my coworkers, in hopes of not offending them...just give it time. But I couldn't contain the convulsions that came with the though of eating raw horse. No thanks. I don't think, "I gave it up for Lent" goes over real well here.

---------------------------------------------------------------------
New train of thought. I keep getting invites for random activities. A Lantern Festival in Haki, bowling game in Kurume (rock on...bowling=death), salsa festival in Fukuoka City. I can't salsa, don't know why I'm going. Can I retract my offer? And tonight, guess what my plans entail....guess, just guess. KARAOKE!!!!! I have arrived people. You are not culturally accepted until you make a complete ass of yourself pantomiming interest and talent through poor vocal skills to dasypygal American quasi-hits and total flops. So help me god if they even make me sing, I know they'll regret it more than words can describe. So I'll let you know how that one turns out. Give me cancer now................

----------------------------------------------------------------------
I got introduced to someone's son last night after class. They brought him along to meet me, and then his dad offered to drive us out for a drink. WHAT? Am I being set up on a date by an abrasive Japanese suit and his English ignorant son?

I think I was being completely naive when I assumed a year out of the grasp of American influence would allow me the opportunity to "sort things out." Since I've been here more crap from home has been reigning down upon me, stressing me out to a point I thought I could escape. I used to daydream about being locked up in a psych ward or mental institution (Eastern State is the inst. of choice) for a while, just as a break. Follow my lead here. Picture it. A break from television, parents, friends, dating, cooking for yourself, thinking for yourself, hell, even dressing yourself. An escape from all that is life. Sometime it just feels like too much. Maybe I wasn't cut out for this. Japan was supposed to be my escape without the threat of electroshock therapy...which I'm positive if institutionalized I would be administered on a regular basis. But so far, no escape. It's been relaxing, don't get me wrong. I'm having fun. But I don't want to think about dating, or where I went wrong, or what I'll do next. I assumed that if I escaped all that back there it'd standstill for awhile, even if just in my own little reality. I don't care what happens there, here is mine. But it followed me. Can I get a restraining order?


Wednesday, August 18, 2004


my favourite shot, a little rice, a little bamboo, and a whole lot of crazy blue.

pre-wrath green fest

Bob Ross would flip over the "happy little bushes."

I have been smited

Last night was undeniably nothing short than the wrath of god beating down upon me. At the suggestion of Scott I went for a ride to the base of the mts and planned on doing a little hiking, only I kept stopping every 5 minutes to take pictures.....nothing's changed. The sky was a shade of blue I have never before seen, out of a crayola box that is, and I had to capture it....which I hope the following pictures do. Later that night on the ride home I discovered the cause of such a brilliant blue......ALL HELL WAS BREAKING LOOSE!!!!! It was absolutely insane. I had to walk the bike home because I was physically blowing over. I have never seen a storm quite like that. It kept me up all night, considering I sleep next to two huge windows, with very thin drapes, and the wind kept howling through the cracks of the shoddy Japanese construction that is my house. I found my bike about 6 houses down the street this morning, which really confused me because that bike is the only distinguishing factor between one house and the next. Now, 8 hours later, nothing has changed. The wind is still going at it.....it's nothing short of a hurricane, though I've never actually experienced a hurricane, so how would I know?

But it's crazy, that's all I have to say. I fear for my life.

I can only hope god's wrath doesn't look over that shkeevy little mouse that's been cohabitating with me in the house...I didn't sign on for a roommate.

If I were a superhero, I'd employ you as my sidekick

The P.E. teacher is smoking. He looks to be about 12.

I'm so sick of rice, i'm outta ideas
.....rice with salt
.....rice with pepper
.....solitary rice, a.k.a. cardboard
.....at the suggestion of liz, rice pilaf.....SHAZAM!

Getting paid to be bored really isn't all it's cracked up to be. I'd rather be taking online surveys, or processing my IQ for the 5 millionth time, or, sad as it is, watching Murder She Wrote........no, NO! Anything but Angela Lansbury.

P.S. Has anyone seen Bedknobs and Broomsticks? Talk about retro.


The extent of my boredom has led me to new means of entertainment, reliving the few moments of livelihood I once took for granted:

Lizzymce : attractive, that's always your word

Lizzymce : i always describe people as cute or hot or he makes me want to cream my panties
Lizzymce : but lauren, you always say, "attractive"
HoagieL : well, he said that
HoagieL : i said you were butt-ass ugly
Lizzymce: haha, you jerk

rwp 21 (11:04:05 AM): you sleep with everyone
rwp 21 (11:04:07 AM): ooooo
HoagieL (11:04:10 AM): i didn't sleep with him
rwp 21 (11:04:23 AM): well... if it makes you feel better.. when i tell the story i'll get it confused
rwp 21 (11:04:24 AM): and say that you did
rwp 21 (11:04:25 AM): :-)
rwp 21 (11:04:47 AM): i like to laugh at other people's misfortunes
rwp 21 (11:04:50 AM): so i can ignore my own
rwp 21 (11:04:56 AM): thats key, right?
rwp 21 (11:06:15 AM): have fun at work
rwp 21 (11:07:14 AM): be gone!
rwp 21 (11:07:23 AM): the children need you


leonwalk11 (8:30:59 PM): imagine the possibilities norm. hotdogs would become so abundant they would become our currency
leonwalk11 (8:31:30 PM): one hotdog would equal roughly a nickel, depending on the price of the yen, but im not quite sure
leonwalk11 (8:31:52 PM): but wait, i keep getting ahead of myself, lets just keep praying we can clone one of these hotdogs


leonwalk11 (8:22:14 PM): you confused me, sorry
HoagieL (8:22:40 PM): i imagine my mental capacity confuses you a lot

Randleski (11:23:06 PM): i'll use hornswaggle tomorrow
Randleski (11:23:09 PM): what does it mean?
HoagieL (11:25:31 PM): to deceive
HoagieL (11:25:52 PM): or, to bamboozle, which further proves my point that antiquated morons write the dictionary
Randleski (11:26:00 PM): ok, i work at sears, so that will be easy



rwp 21 (10:51:02 AM): nobody likes me!
rwp 21 (10:51:38 AM): im going to end up married to 'lena
rwp 21 (10:51:46 AM): i know it
HoagieL (10:51:53 AM): actually, I think she might already be spoken for
rwp 21 (10:52:14 AM): FUCK FUCK FUCK
rwp 21 (10:52:20 AM): now im going to be alone for the rest of my life!
rwp 21 (10:52:23 AM): there is no god!


........................I concede........................................




Tuesday, August 17, 2004

Writing it off as a cultural difference

The other night at dinner the waitress was asking Jeremie a question in regard to his meal. She kept repeating “suru udon, suru udon” over and over. We looked around the restaurant for anyone who could help us, i.e. possibly spoke English…to no avail, despite the fact that English education is mandatory up through high school, meaning the whole damn country speaks a little! For 3 minutes this lady does nothing but repeat the same thing over and over, in hopes that miraculously we’ll understand, that it will come to us like an epiphany or something. Does that EVER really work? She didn’t pantomime, use charades, or even attempt any other lame gesture to help us understand. Until finally my dinner of Sapporo (yummy...AND part of balanced diet) kicked in, and I shouted out, "pork noodles!" When did I learn Japanese? And more importantly, why did it take me 4 years to get it out? So as soon as I said this, or rather yelled, I was buzzing, she says, “Yes, yes, pork noodles.” Okay lady, so you DO fucking speak English…don’t lie to us here, speak English from the start. We spoke Japanese from the start, shoddy yes, but still Nihongo. I’m getting sick of writing everything off as a cultural difference.

Sept. 1 is the opening ceremony of the second half of the school year, and as the new Alt (assistant language teacher), I’m expected to give a brief introduction to the entire school in Japanese. Piece of cake…..oh wait, I DON’T SPEAK JAPANESE!!!!! I b.s.ed my way through a hello, my name is, I’m from routine to the first grade (our 7th grade) last week, the same day as they watched a video on the bombing of Hiroshima and ensuing radioactive, emotional and psychological damage that all Americans have caused . Thank god I didn’t tell them I was an American…….ooops! Yeah, that felt good. I like making little kids cry. I like it when people hate me because my relatives killed their relatives. Makes you feel special, you know. They look at me with their beady little eyes and curse me.

Monday, August 16, 2004


Eugene, Gaer and Kate making a mockery of sanity.

"Asshole, Welshman Gaer" in the Fukuoka subway station.

If you give a mouse a cookie....all hell will break loose

Meeting new people is not my forte, harder for me than most individuals. But, do you realize how much pressure is taken off by knowing that the other person is attached?...if they're of the opposite sex that is, because then you don't have to worry about blurring the fine line between friendship and something more significant. You automatically know that you can be yourself and not worry about this person taking any action, or inaction, the wrong way.

The lowest blow possible in the whole "making new friends ritual", which is bullshit might I add, is lying about your relationship status. There are 4 guys that live relatively close to me and when first introduced all presented themselves as attached. But now, miraculously, 2 of the girlfriends have disappeared like some bad Houdini act. How do you just create a significant other in order to scope out the potential without them acting reciprocally? That's just low. You either have a girlfriend or you don't....none of this "kinda" bullshit. Just because you broke up with your blow-up, flammable girlfriend doesn't mean I'm going to jump on the chance to score with you.....but I can't say no...what the hell is wrong with me? Yours truly is up Dawson's Creek without a paddle. Why? What did I do to deserve this? This is why I don't make friends. I thought I was escaping that whole fucked up dating scene for at least a year....I can't have a date. I don't want a date....I freak out, like I'm doing right now. I can't date, this is torture.

the circle only has one side

First and foremost I apologize for any inconveniences caused by my absence these past few days….I know how greatly you have missed me. I took a few days chosebi with the purpose of visiting Andrea, but circumstances didn’t pan out as planned and both of us ended up with alternate plans.

Thursday: Prefectural orientation in Fukuoka City all day. So, I rode with dude from the Board of Education (there was VERY little conversation the entire trip there) and suffered through eight hours of worthless meetings. I plan on suing for the misuse of my valuable time. A few of us stayed after the meeting to hit the enkai, (party) at the beer garden downtown….all you care to drink…fun night! I ended up totally smashed, attempting to out-drink Eugene from South Africa…I think I won, but I can’t really remember. I hope I didn’t do anything too stupid…we all know how great I am at first impressions. We stayed until 11 or so and then made the hour and a half train ride home, with a few minor glitches (mainly caused by yours truly.) As soon as I stepped onto the platform to board the train I realized that my ticket stub said Hiroshima instead of Tanushimaru….big mistake….I could have been on that train ALL frickin’ night and never known it. Thank god for the combined, yet still minimal, Japanese skills of the group…we eventually got things figured out and I made it home. Word to the wise: NEVER buy a train ticket while inebriated.

Friday night: The gang headed out to some restaurant whose name I am still unable to pronounce for dinner and a few drinks. It’s good to have finally found my social nitch, more or less. There are five of us living within neighboring towns, and considering Kiwi Kate just bought a car….Jap. equivalent of the Mystery Machine minus air conn, radio, and power everything, outings have become much easier to plan. I haven’t gotten to know them all very well, big surprise, in fact Jeremie keeps asking why I’m antisocial, to which I reply, “Get to know me,” but we’ve had some laughs, mainly at Gaer’s expense, and I prefer their company to the horrid Murder She Wrote reruns and skittering mice my house has to offer. Funny, how I always preferred solitude over a night of going out, yet now I find myself dying to get out of this isolation I’ve built around myself.

Saturday: Dai took me out to some sushi restaurant….GAG REFLEX!! Sushi is one food I’ll never become accustomed to. To make it even worse, there were plates of sushi circling around the restaurant passing by each table on a miniature train type deal, allowing one the pleasure of viewing every type of raw fish you could ever imagine. But at least I can say I’ve tried it, and isn’t that what this whole adventure is all about? Thank god for Sapporo.

Sunday: I spent about 3 hours cycling along the Chikugo River trying not to get lost, or look too much like a foreigner, to no avail. My Japanese is very minimal, basic conversational phrases only, though the pronunciation is much like Spanish, so every time I greet someone along the street and bow they automatically assume I can speak Japanese, making for some pretty interesting games of charades. All I can do is smile, nod, and shrug my shoulders like an idiot. Can’t wait until my classes actually start, then I’ll at least be able to say, “I don’t speak Japanese.” It was a good day though, despite the torrential downpour which caught me midday. It's amazing how much the mounains resemble the Alps, despite being on a completely different continent....gotta love green moutains.

Wednesday, August 11, 2004

take it to the limit

"To be nobody-but-yourself -- in a world which is doing its best night and day, to make you everybody else--means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting." e.e. cummings

Have you ever met your competition, that one person who rivals you in every way, encouraging you, almost threatening you to go further, work harder? I met mine junior year of college. A great guy, truly individual….almost. A Dylan fan, Thoreau fanatic, slight obsession with Pink Floyd, played the guitar, human rights advocate, a poli-sci and Spanish major…..sound familiar? This guy was my male counterpart. We had a few classes together and by the end of the semester were writing lyrics back and forth in class, finishing each other’s political commentaries and one day a week we tried to shock each other by wearing the most obscene--though not revealing--outfit/article of clothing to class….which got pretty ugly, let me tell you. While it may outwardly have appeared to be a friendship, we both knew it was a battle of the sexes, in every way possible. We competed on test scores, essays, intense Spanish thought, even extra curricular activities. I founded the lamest of the lame, the Independent Student Coalition for the Abolition of Capital Punishment with the help of oh so handy Prof. Clark, and he reciprocated with Butler for Peace….jerk. I recently found an article about him on DawgNet, which is no surprise, detailing his study abroad in Chile and work with Habitat for Humanity there. He stole my internship at the IICACP, even though I technically turned it down, he’s exploiting his catholic roots to work with the Center for Faith and Vocation and just recently (end of semester) joined the Peace Corps. This guy is a fucking saint……and I want my revenge. He always managed to overdo/do better any and everything I did. But the concept of competition implies that now is the opportune moment to exact said revenge in the form of stumping him once and for all. But I have no clue how. I have to do something big…..you know, like cure cancer AND aids, alleviate world hunger, or research and develop the possibility of relocating the population of Earth to the surface of Mars.

Suggestions would be fantastic right about now!

But this isn’t just about me wanting to outdo his Peace Corps, life-saving, saintly manner. He was always the one who drove me further, and so here I am, halfway around the world. But where do I go from here?

Human potential expands exponentially as time and experiences pass, allowing the individual to not only adapt, but evolve into an improved version of the former self. I may not be evolved to the point of suprahuman strength and visibility, as in fact my eyesight is declining daily, but I have more potential than I’m allotting for my use. I’ve settled for a lesser standard, knowing that I’ll never be let down for I know I can accomplish all I place in front of me. I simply have to learn to break off more than I can handle in order to see just how far I can go….to actually risk failure. But that still doesn’t tell me where I should go from here…..I need a plan wrought with ingenuity and brilliance, now who should I talk to about that?

Tuesday, August 10, 2004

*PYROMANIA 2004*

So, first experience with the washing machine wasn’t so bad, even though it only holds ¼ the normal amount. Now, I’ve never been a huge fan of line drying clothes, especially after Spain when my jeans were starchy enough to stand up by themselves, but this time most of my clothes turned out okay, though incredibly wrinkled, with the exception of my towel, which now feels like dried toothpaste. To top it all off, it’s not even my towel! It was left here for me by the last girl…::shudders in disgust:: Yeah, good times. So amongst the wrinkled clothes were the pants I planned to wear today. And since I have to make a good impression for the 2 people actually working in the office I decided to try the iron out.

BIG MISTAKE!!!!!!!!!!

I couldn’t read the settings for cotton or linen or anything because it’s all in kanji, so I guessed, and boy was I wrong. Not only did I burn the pants, but as soon as I realized what I’d done I dropped the iron right onto the tatami, which is little more than dried straw…….so a lot of smoke and a hue burn mark ensued….thank god the Japanese aren’t up to safety regulations on smoke detectors.

So I thought to myself, screw the pants, let’s just make coffee. A little caffeine always seems to make my day brighter. I decided to use the percolator today instead of the teapot, because there is really no comparison in terms of taste. But the percolator is the smallest I’ve ever seen and the individual burners on the range are really large to compensate for a lack of a real stove. So I had to balance the percolator on the range and after about 5 minutes………COFFEE EXPLOSION!!!

The poor coffee splattered all over my kitchen, and to top it off, the handle, which is coated in plastic, caught on fire, melting all over the range and the counter, which no dout will be stuck forever….FORever!

Cursed much? Yeah, so I’m jinxed when it comes to technology, all kitchen appliances, domestic tasks and whistling….not that the last one really matters, but ever since that whole braces experience I haven’t been able to whistle. Dr. Yozwiack stole something from me I’ll never be able to replace…scummy bastard. I should have known this would happen though, after that time I set my own hat on fire. Ha, I’ve got problems. I actually brought the hat with me…I still love it despite the gaping hole and charred edges, just makes it look more vintage…or Good Will…but it’s a fine line.

Random visits are always well received

Let me just express how much I truly love random visits. Dai, a 19 yr. old student from my English convo class, dropped by last night to bring me a copy of Pulp Fiction, which he bought while living in Oregon...which made me jealous because what all-time classic movie was filmed in Oregon???????...that's right...The Goonies! Anyway, we chatted for a while about our travels and studies and it turns out that he went to college for Agricultural economics......dammit if I'd have known that was a major. He's a really nice guy, good taste in music, always a plus, and he's offered to give me salsa lessons in exchange for Spanish lessons. Laura, if you could see me now...yes, my life is complete!

It gets better. Today Jeremie, the ALT living in Ukiha, nearest town to me, yet still too far to walk considering my bike is with the "bike master" at this time, stopped by the school to say hello. Very nice of him. You know, even though he could easily crush me with one hand, he's a good guy...and he used to be a chef, which makes him my new best friend.

Yeah. So that's it from me. Thank god Andrea finally got a cell phone....now I can harass her and her techie boys all the time!

Daily advice: avoid fish flakes and raw eggs...trust me!

Fuck, it's raining again :(

Monday, August 09, 2004

Randleski to the rescue!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not only have I received my first international phone call--thanks again Scheid, but I have now received my first package (get your mind out of the gutter.) Okay, so technically I won't get anything in the mail for a few weeks, but mere semantics. So a HUGE thanks to Scott, you rock, more than you know. You should come visit and I'll take you climbing...hey...We can go to Fuji, sleep on the rim, sound good? Seriously, thanks a lot.

It's another long, boring Monday morning, but I'm on a mission. I'm researching the Trans-Siberian Railway. I'm hoping that when I leave Tanushimaru for good I can hop onto the TSR in Beijing, take it through Russia, thereby fulfilling another of my pre-death requirements, and wind up in Europe...maybe visit some friends in Spain or Scotland. This is most likely one of those psychotically and feebly planned journeys that never pans out in the end....but I don't see why it should be destined to fall through. This time I have a bankroll, time, motivation, and thanks to international shipping I should be getting a book and timetables pretty soon. That'll help the planning process. And this is what we call: avoiding real work and postponing grad school for yet another year! I think I like it.

Oh yeah, I posted a few pics of Tokyo, what little Dre and I actually saw. We spent most of the days in meetings about life as a JET of African descent, managing your time and travel, responsibilities of a JET and 1,001 Japanese etiquette rules you absolutely must follow. Needless to say it was fun, I recommend it highly. We walked around a little at night, though didn't really discover the real Tokyo until the 2nd night. Nothing but flashing lights, Pachinko and bad eighties music. This is going to sound pathetic, but in retrospect, the highlight of my short-lived stay in Tokyo was the Dr. Pepper which Andrea and I spotted at a vending machine amidst a line of 30 vending machines. It was the first, and so far, last Dr. Pepper of my Japan stay....and I think I'm dying a little inside. It's clear to me that globalization overlooked the rural village of Tanushimaru. No Dr. Pepper, though I'm honeslty not surprised (the only place I found it in Europe was Gibraltar), no McDonald's---I know, I know, crazy huh? Maybe we should alert the authorities, that's bound to be some kind of international violation.


Shit, it's raining again. I appreciate the rain for it's furthering the resemblance the town holds to the scenery in the Goonies, but I'm getting a little tired of sloshing home in the humidity and rain....besides, there is no one to play with!!!! I think rainy season should come with a friend, I think I'll contact the prime minister now, alert him of my findings. He's gonna love me as much as Ernie Fletcher and Mitch McConnell....maybe I'd stop writing them if they'd stop being complete fuck-wits!


Sunday, August 08, 2004


up close and personal with Tokyo.

'Lost in Translation' much?

Thursday, August 05, 2004

Domo arrigato, Mr. Rob

Special thanks to Rob (Scheid, not Paisley) for my very first phone call from the states. Good to hear fluent English for once this week. For the rest of you, take a hint, pick up the phone and dial, and if you don't know how, consult Rob.


In other news I conducted my first English conversation class last night and things got pretty ugly. These people have no shame in asking incredibly personal questions--let me reiterate, incredibly personal. About my sex life, my preference between tampons and pads, why I'm single. Eidently they've never been introduced to the line. I might just have to show them a thing or two about personal space and privacy. All in all, despite the embarrassment, it went well. There are a few fairly fluent speakers in the group, one who even speaks a little Spanish, and one I'm sure was tokin' the reefer. He was out of it the entire hour, interesting enough for my first night. When I got back to my house I found a pair of those rubber overall thingies that have the boots attached, used mainly for fly fishing and stuff....you know what I'm talking about? They were hanging in my car port and I instantly thought someone was playing a horrid trick on me, a la I Know What You Did Last Summer and it creeped me out all night. But they were gone by 5 this morning when I left to run. Thank god.

Murder She Wrote

So as of late I've been rummaging through 8 years of crap former JETs have left abandoned in my house, hoping to hit the jackpot. I thought I was almost there when I discovered purple leg warmers in the guest room closet. But just you wait, it gets better. Amidst all the reruns of Friends and Sex and the City, and really shitty movies-Grease 2 (who knew there was a sequel?), and A Fish Named Wanda, I ran across 12 tapes of nonstop Murder She Wrote. Yup, it's a perpetual Murder She Wrote-a-thon here in Japan. Okay, so let's suspend reality here for a moment and pretend that this was a popular show back in the day, which it wasn't, and that Angela Lansbury is talented, which she's not. Even so, WHO STILL WATCHES MURDER SHE WROTE????? Raise your hands.....seriously. Why can't I get left something good? Who were these mysterious JETs who left behind years of birth control, prune extract (?), tapes of themselves on vacation in Montana (if that can technically be called vacation,) and 27 types of decaf tea? Made me question what kind of person people will assume I am based upon the personal possessions I'll chuck in the house when it comes time to repack the antichrist of all luggage.

The worst bit of it all, besides mental images of Angela Lansbury, was trying to comprehend the enigma that is Japanese recycling. Recycling anything that is recyclable is mandatory, and evidently the trash collectors sift through your trash, which must be labeled with your name, and if they discover anything of recyclable capabilities they yell at you...sounds fun right? So Jennie, my predecessor, left behind all kinds of questionable food that I will never go near- and yet I am somehow the one responsible for cleaning out all of her leftover containers and flipping through my dictionary to try and discover which bin the varying sizes of plastic bottles belong in. That includes emptying out a U.S. army size container of Jiffy! Now the whole house reeks and I want to vomit. : (

Wednesday, August 04, 2004

i CAN'T be getting paid for this

I realize that it's summer vacation and there is very little to do at work all day other than to damage my eyes gazing upon email after email, searching for my name online and posting to this shoddy blog....but how am I possibly getting paid forthis? I have been running errands all day and technically it's still considered a fully paid work day. I've been watching Family Guy, I took a nap, my supervisor keeps bringing me chocolate and telling me I can leave whenever I want.....this is my job people....I get paid 7 figures for this...and I have air conn! SUWEEEEET!!!!!!

Okay, another wasted work day almost over. Time for me to get out of here.