on ice, sickness, death and popsicles

I am going to die.

You know you aren't in So Cal anymore when you hear yourself saying "It's so nice and warm today! It must be in the 40s!"

I am very very very VERY cold.
All of the time.

In other news. . .I got sick today. REALLY REALLY sick. Well, it started yesterday, but got progressively worse until this morning when I decided to call in sick. (Good thing I don't have anything to actually do there today.)

When I called in, I talked to one of the sweetest ladies of all time (for real, she's amazing.) She was very concerned and asked if she could bring me anything. I told her that I think all I need is some rest, but thank you.

Well, she and my supervisor just called me and apologized, because they said they were standing outside of my apartment. They had taken their lunch break to come by and bring me food. They brought two kinds of tofu from the local tofu shop, and tofu donuts (which they assured me do not contain any animal products and were fried in vegetable oil). They also gave me fresh picked flowers and a jar to keep them in. Now if that isn't just about the nicest thing ever, I don't know what is. Can you believe I'm leaving this place? Sometimes I can't either.

Sick or not, tomorrow I leave for Hokkaido and the Snow Festival. I'm really excited about it, but I am also very very afraid. To play it safe, in addition to a hat with ear-flaps, I spent about $30 on warmer things. I bought some for the tops and the bottoms of my feet, ones to strap around my knees, some that go across my shoulders and up my neck, some to hold in my hands, ones for my arms, ones for my legs and some for my back. I also bought some random assorted sticky rectangles of warmth to fill in all the blanks.

I don't know if I'm cut out for that kind of weather. I can hardly handle going to the bathroom in my own apartment, let alone braving that kind of cold.

So, just in case, I thought I'd share with you some thoughts I had the other day. . .

A person can not eat a popsicle and not look ridiculous. It's impossible. How can a person whose whole mouth, lips and tongue are dyed purple, green or blue be taken seriously? Even that bright "cherry" red is silly. After thinking this over, I decided that this is a very useful fact and wondered how I could put it to it's optimal use. Then, because I am morbid and I think about being dead often, (not in the "How will I die?" sense, but in the "In case I die, I want you to know. . . " sense.)

I made a decision. People who love me and plan on living longer than I will, take note. (Which could be any and all of you. Even pseudo vegan-ism can not protect me from the inevitable. Let's face it, I'm not exactly coordinated, and worse, I am rather accident prone.)

At my funeral, I want everyone to eat popsicles. First thing upon arrival, I hope everyone receives a commemorative button (Perhaps with a ridiculous photo and/or phrase on it? Something to the effect of "Well, that was fun.") and a popsicle. Everyone has to eat them, so be sure to buy a vegan brand. I wouldn't want anyone to be caught in the awkward position between their moral convictions and my dying wish.
It is my hope that all the rainbow colored mouths will not be able to refrain from smiling in spite of the circumstances. I really hope I die in the summer, popsicles in the winter would be mean.

OK, that's it.


The big boned woman has exited the karaoke bar

It's official.

Last week I signed the paper that says I will not be re-contracting.

With a sigh and a heavy heart, I slid the paper across my desk and on onto the desk of my supervisor. He nodded, and at some point gave it to Kyoto Sensei (the Vice Principal). A while later, Kyoto Sensei sat down next to me, and asked me if I really knew what I had just signed (The whole page was in English. I was surprised that HE knew what it was). He had this look of shock on his face, and he asked me why I didn't want to re-contract. I explained to him (and reminded myself) what the reasons are for me to go back to the States. He said he understood, but he walked away with the same face of doubt fully intact.

A few minutes later, I received a call telling me to go to Kocho Sensei(the Principal)'s office.

*Note: I LOVE Kocho Sensei at Showa Koko. Every time I talk with him, we always start off by looking at each other and laughing. He says "HellOH!" and I laugh, and then he laughs, and then I want to hug him, but since that would probably be inappropriate, I refrain myself. He does printmaking, so we have the art-love-bond. He also has a great sense of humor, and these amazing chubby cheeks. And did I mention that he wears a bolo in the summer? I love that man.

After our initial greeting (and laughs) he asked me to sit down across from him and Kyoto Sensei with their matching faces of disbelief. He asked me about my decision to re-contract. I went through the same shpeil (I have no idea how to spell that, or even if it's a real word, but I like it, so it stays.) again: going back to school, I miss my family, I've already spent two years here and I'm not getting any younger. . . He shook his head and said he was very sad, and that he wishes I could stay. I agreed, but told him that I can't be in two places at once, and that America is the place I need to be next. He and Kyoto Sensei looked at each other, and looked back at me. I remained calm, and having finally learned my lesson, commanded my liquids to stay in place, rather than squirt out of my eye holes.

The three of us sat there and sighed for a while. Then Kocho Sensei broke the silence by saying, "I understand." I took my cue and quickly exited the room before I started crying. . .but only just a little.