story time with melissa

An Ode to the Three Day Week End

2008-09-03T11:45:00.000+09:00

Chrono, logically.

The weekend started off with a bang at the Final Fantasy Friday (Free) screening of Baron Munchausen.

An early morning bike ride to breakfast at the Chicago Diner (Splitting vegan biscuits and gravy, and eggs benedict with my Love, and washing it all down with bottomless yerba mate. Oh, and free vegan corn muffins. In a Word: deeeeeelicious.) Catching the tail end of a twenty-four hour art/print making lock-in. Doodling on tracing paper while indulging in captivating convos with quality individuals. An afternoon swim in the community pool. Soggy seats and talking, talking, talking with our new friend in his home. Making dinner and laughing the night away.

Working on Sunday. More swimming. Riding up to Sultan’s for the best falafel sandwich four dollars can buy. Riding over to see none other than Mr. Ornette Coleman perform for free, from fantastic seats. Riding up the lake shore to see the fabulous Jon Jameson and his band of merry music men (Also Known As: Delta Spirit) play sweet tunes to an adoring audience.

A trip to Starved Rock. A lovely picnic followed by a long and lovelier hike. Burritos, Mexican hot chocolate, and a movie.

It’s safe to say: Life is Good.

Things and Stuffed

2008-08-24T00:10:00.002+09:00

Dear dearest of deerhearts,

How are you lovelies?

It has been over three months since my move to Chicago and my, oh My, how the time has flown. . .

Wherever has it gone? You ask.

Well it went up and up and down, down, down, but it seems the tides are turning and we are headed for an upswing.

I can’t help but compare this move to the one I made to Japan a few years back. Lying on my bed and crying myself asleep each night is no longer a reasonable option. I am neither tough, nor admirable for making the small move to Chicago. If I don’t call people back, or make phone calls in the first place, the Price of Long Distance Calling and/or the Great Time Difference no longer takes the blame, and here I don’t have the overwhelming support like I did when I was all the way over in Japan.

It has been strange moving somewhere all alone with (and for) someone else. I realized recently that I had grown accustomed to having a large number of diverse friends at arm’s length. That lifestyle was stripped away when I made the move for Theodore. And here I am with one human being to fill all those gaps in my heart.

Those are some big, big shoes, my friends.

Throughout it all, Ted and I continue getting to know one another, ourselves, our new selves, and our new city . . .

And as for this, the Windiest of Cities, I feel as if I have to find an answer for “So, How do you like Chicago?” almost every day. Here is my standard response:

I feel fortunate to have the opportunity to live in a city that I never would have thought to move to. I am proud to live in one of the few places in America that wasn’t stolen from its original natives. (Native Americans rejected the Chicago area as a place to live. They considered it a worthless swamp.) I read that Chicago’s beauty is found in its things, (hu)manmade. Its architecture, its parks, and its people. I also read that Chicago is a city of rejects, a place for people who don’t belong anywhere else to fit in. And so far, this is proving to be accurate.

As for la-la-Life:

In the beginning, I was focused on struggling to survive. Within my first two weeks, I got a seemingly fantastic job, a beautiful apartment, met and moved in with my first housemate, Renee. The next month allowed time for me to realize how perfectly compatible Renee and I were as housemates, and what an amazing friend/person/inspiration she is. That month also turned out to be our last one living together, as she found the Opportunity of Opportunities and had to move out in order to pursue it. (Taking with her, her girlfriend Stacey, who is also a Friend of All Friends that I cried to see leave.)

Round month three, Life seemed to be trading in all of its ups for downs. I was all alone again, friendless (with the exception of the exceptional Theodore), housemateless, and beginning to hate my job. Not to mention the facts that: My ambulance adventure (that you may or may not remember/know about) was going to cost me one thousand big ones, and Ted’s apartment (of which he lives in the basement) flooded. Those were sad, sad times.

However, my new housemate is moving in today. I have had a grand total of six houseguests, each having significantly cheered my heart and brightened their share of days. (The last three of whom left yestermorn.) I have found and wrapped myself up in our local Food Not Bombs. I have discovered weekly free fantastic film screenings a brief bike ride away from my apartment (Brand Upon the Brain! last Wednesday, Two Lane Blacktop the week before, and we shall see what comes next. . . Three cheers for things to look forward too. Hip! Hip! Hip!). The future holds free magnificent music to be seen and heard not so far away. There is actually quite a lot going on in Chicago, particularly in my neighborhood, it has just been a matter of getting plugged in.

Today I feel optimistic, so I’m going to go with it, and go go go. . .

Thanks for reading, thanks for caring. This one was a biggie. I guess I had more thoughts stored up than I anticipated. I’ll try to do better next time.

Love, love, love you and your yous.

(in)famous last words

2008-07-16T22:59:00.002+09:00

I'll write (/call/email/hang out) more soon.

(Baby steps gots baby feets; baby, baby, I miss you.)

For Prem:

2007-03-14T15:25:00.000+09:00

The other day, my mother said to me,
"Hey Melissa, do you know about Google?"
to which I answered,
"Hey Mom, do you know bread comes in a sliced version?"
and then we laughed,
and laughed,
and laughed.

For JMP

2006-10-05T03:40:00.000+09:00

How I felt about being a woman in Japan, especially one who is part Japanese;
and
How my experience may have been better/worse/different than that of the poster boy white male ALT:

Being a woman, and interacting with Japanese women was quite possibly among the things that impacted me the most during the time I spent overseas.
*WARNING: The following is loaded with gross generalizations.
The first year I taught in Japan, I was surprised by how seemingly unhealthy the relationships between my male and female students were. It was like looking at a time warp back to when boys and girls had cooties, when to punish a student, all you had to do was force them to sit next to a member of the opposite sex. (I really did have to do that on occasion, only because it really did work.)

The second year I started to see how it affected the way women related to each other. There was much less of the cattiness and competition that I remember being a part of my own high school experience. I found an ease at making friendships with other women unlike ever before. I had always had an easier time befriending boys, or other girls who also had an easier time befriending boys. My theory, is that all those years of sticking together and telling each other how KAWAIIIIIII!!! everything is, raised many kind hearted women who understand the value of being a friend to other women.

My black hair, almond eyes and olive skin granted me anonymity. I was able to wander around undetected much easier than any of my gaijin counterparts. I wasn't stared at, or pointed out. But, I also never received home cooked meals at my doorstep, or a free bicycle because I look like one of those "Nice Mormon Boys". I had a harder time getting attention when I wanted it. Travelling alone, no one came up to me and asked if they could practice their English. I had to walk up to other foreigners and say, "Hey, how's it going?" and wait for their shock at my perfect pronunciation to wear off.

You win some, you loose some. My experience and that of my dear friend JMP in the end, will have been entirely different. At the same time, my experience and that of my dear, Japanese American friend Erika, will also be totally different. I really do believe that on both sides, the grass is truly green, it's just a little patchy.

What I think of the JET Programme/ Teaching English in Japan in general:

It was the most difficult easy thing I have ever done in my entire life. It felt unfair to have the respect that come with being a Teacher in Japan attached to myself. My days consisted of reading books, writing letters, talking to students and occasionally preparing a lesson and teaching it. For the first year, I lived in fear of the day when things at work would really start to become difficult. I expected the jig to be up, any day now. . . Only after I had gone through the whole year's cycle did I realize that the hardest part (at least at my schools) was just being there.

I allowed teaching English to really inhibit my Japanese studies the first year that I lived in Japan. All day, every day I focused on speaking English and English only with the students, and also with the teachers. I felt really selfish any time I tried to practice my Japanese. Even with my Japanese friends, that first year I'd find myself constantly in "Teacher Mode", concentrating on improving their speaking skills, ignoring the fact that my Japanese, more often than not, could use a LOT more work than their English.

Somewhere along the way I got over it. I started letting myself be taught, and practicing what I had learned. Then things started improving. . . and then I had to leave.

Top Three Reasons California is the best place on earth:

1.Family
2.Friends
3.Here, it is possible for anyone to become governor.

Top Three Reasons Japan is the best place on earth:

1.tomodachi
2.nihonjin
3.feeling doki doki

Why teleportation can't be a reality:

I blame J-Pop.

b sides

2006-09-20T15:57:00.000+09:00

OK, OK, blog reading world. We've had ourselves quite the hiatus, to say the least.
Before I move on to sharing with you stories from Life Post-Japan. I feel compelled to get a few things out of my system. Such as, the following pictures which, for one reason or another (mostly because these photos were taken and given to me by other people, far too many to list), never made it into any previous blogs.

This will be really boring for people who are not interested in seeing snapshots of Melissa+Strangers, or Strangers+Strangers. (However, this may be fascinating to creepy internet types that I don't know. Creepy internet types, please stop feasting your creepy eyes on myself and people I love. I know deep down, you're better than that. Now, get off the internet and go make some real friends. Thank you.)

And with that, I give you the following photographical catagories:

Fabulous Friends

(FYI: That dessert is vegan friendly.)

(I reeeeeally wish I could remember what he said.)

(The guy on the left in this photo makes me laugh again, and again, and again.)

(The KKrew+Satte-Mitsuko/Rachel)

How we do what we do in Japan

(One of these things is not like the others.)

(a lot of sitting on the floor)

(a lot of shoes at the door)

This was the smallest room I have ever stayed in.
It was supposed to be a "double" but our futon couldn't even fit on the floor.
When I reached my arms out, I could almost touch both walls at once.
I guess you get what you pay for, and at 3000en a night in Tokyo,
I'm don't know what we were expecting. It was, an adventure.

(sympathy for the elderly)

(making mochi)

(Derek took this picture of my beloved ketai in its glory days.)

(The view from Satte Shogyo)

Super Students

The day of our last lesson, Kotomi and Ikumi brought me presents that they had made.
I miss these girls so much.

Mmmmmusic

(Muffin)

In Japan

anyone can be a rock star

OK. Now, as a reward to those of you whom have scolled all the way through photos and memories that mean everything to me, and most likely nothing to you. . .

Here is your reward:
Seeing is believing

Even I can still hardly believe it.

Karma

2006-08-05T02:03:00.000+09:00

So, a month or so ago, I volunteered to help out with this year's Christmas Lecture in Japan.

They needed a vegan and (sometimes I think that) I am the only one living in Japan.
All I had to do was pull four hairs from my head, alow them to be tested,
stand in front of an audience of thousands of eager Japanese school children
while holding a card with a number on it,
sit and watch an honestly interesting lecture,
and later return to the stage to turn around my numbered card
and reveal the fact that the tests were correct, and I am, in fact a "vegan".

Oh, and I also "had to" travel to Yonago
and spend some time with a group of wonderful and interesting people.
They paid for my flight and one night's stay in a very nice hotel
and a lovely vegan dinner at a party with all of the aforementioned people.

I was treated like a VIP, all because when put through a mass spectrometer
you can see that my hair is quite different from the meat eating population at large.

It ended up being a perfect break in the go-go-go that is currently consuming my life.
While I was out there we did a (very) little hike, and played a fantastic game of cards.

But the real highlight was my getting lost on the way to the airport.
For real.

I caught the wrong bus, but I was unaware until the bus driver pulled into the bus station,
and I realized that there weren't any airplanes around.
I asked him if this bus was headed towards the airport, and he told me that I was way off.
He explained to me what I needed to do
(which involved waiting an hour for the very same bus to head back where I started,
so that I could wait another hour until the bus I needed took off from that point.)

He then told me that it was hot, so I should go inside the "bus staion".
Which was one tiny tatami room, with a TV and another bus driver inside it.
They both seemed quite entertained by the fact that

a)I look Japanese, but do a terrible job trying to speak it and
b)The fact that I was lost.
They were both really sweet, and made sure I was comfortable.
They gave me fresh watermelon to eat, and black sugar candy to put in my purse for later.
They asked me all sorts of questions, and laughed at my jokes.
But, the BEST part, was watching as the bus driver magically changed before my eyes
from a grumpy, jaded man, to a smiling, caring, friendly one. It was amazing.

Later he took me back to the station, and when I got off the bus, he made sure I knew which platform to wait at.
Just before my bus finally came, he had pulled up again for his next round at that station.
I looked through the big bus windows and saw that it was him, and he saw that I was me, and we both laughed.
He then waved me over to come to talk to him. I did, and he quizzed me on what bus I should be taking.
A few minutes later, my bus pulled up,
but before it did, I watched as my bus driver friend called the new bus driver guy over,
and talked and smiled with him, while pointing over at me.
People started getting into my bus, and my friend got out of his bus, walked over,
and made sure I got onto the right one this time.

I don't think I could have smiled any bigger.

I love getting lost.

Oh my Okinawa

2006-08-05T00:51:00.000+09:00

Mensore!

Last week I took a break in the chaos and went to Okinawa with a lovely friend of mine. . .

ha. ha. ha.

Tanya really is beautiful, inside and out.

When we're not donning our animal costumes. . .

She looks a little more like this. . .

We had an excellent time. . .

We ate at cute, delicious cafes. . .

Masan!

Found (or were directed to) hidden little treasures. . .

Swam with the fishes. . .

(Although, these ones we viewed while we rode a glass bottom boat)

At an amazingly beautiful beach. . .

And we even made time for a little sight-seeing. . .

Don't even get me started about how wonderful the locals in Okinawa are. I could go on and on and on. . . Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of the ones we met. In fact, I didn't even take most of the photos above. They are brought to you by Tanya for your viewing pleasure.

Okinawa was beautiful, wonderful and just what I needed.
I am sorry, but yet again, I am without the energy to properly express how fantastic it really was. You'll just have to use your imagination. . .

By the way. . .

2006-07-31T14:07:00.000+09:00

The other day

I climbed Fuji San with Joshua, Chie and Adrian.

My camera died before I got a chance to take any photos,
but here are some that Adrian gave me

We look cold and tired, because we were.

We started climbing Fuji San around 9pm-ish so that, in theory, we would have been able to reach the top in time to see the sunrise.
(We did reach the top, but we enjoyed the sunrise before getting there).
I, in my unending brilliance, had decided to stay out all night the night before because I was having too much fun with too many people that I knew I was never going to get to see again.
As I result, I climbed Fuji San on about two hours of sleep, and two feet that still hurt from dancing
(Yes, yes, the rumors are true. Well, a few of them at least.)

It wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't been so crowded

(Can you find Melissa?)

When all is said and done, it was totally worth it.

Totally.

To Hell and Back

2006-07-31T11:46:00.000+09:00

Kyushu

So, remember back in May when I went to Kyushu with a bunch of jocks?

Well, as it turns out, it was awesome. I'm sorry for not having told you about it sooner.
No, really. I really, really am.
You see, I'm moving out of my apartment sometime between this very minute and six hours from now (The shipper will be here between the hours of noon and six in the evening). So, it's safe to say that I'm not in the frame of mind for blogging. Nevertheless, you and I have much catching up to do. So, if you don't mind, I'm just going to get down to business.

The trip consisted of:
All of these people piling into this car

It was quite cozy

We drove around all of Kyushu

The first stop we made was Mt. Aso

It was beautiful,

but it smelled like eggs (in a bad way).

The boys did a little swimming

and some ninja-ing

We all took sand baths

and went to (The) Hell(s)

We went to see where the devil would wash his clothes, if he had any

But mostly, we did a lot of driving around,

enjoying the view,

and looking for places to camp.

Usually,

by the time we found a place and got our tents set up,
it would be evening.

Nevertheless, every night the boys faithfully barbecued different kinds of meat
(and I ate cold tofu and whatever else I picked up at the nightly konbini run.)

Except there was this one time. . .

Where a bad idea

turned out even worse than we had anticipated.

I have never before been so happy to say,
"I'm sorry, I can't eat that, I'm vegetarian."

Seriously, the trip was amazing. Kyushu was my new favorite part of Japan (up until last week when I went to Okinawa, but we'll talk more about that later.) and the people I went with were amazing.

Rachel did most of the driving

This guy has a heart of gold

This guy was amazingly interesting in all the best ways.

(mountain man)

This guy was non-stop laughs.

KA-WA-IIIIII!

This lovely family

consists of a beautiful (inside and out) married couple from Ukraine who cooked amazing food and taught us words like "achiki" in Ukrainian. The big baby is a boy who has a seemingly endless supply of witty things to say. He was fantastic.

All in all, it was a wonderful trip. Unfortunately, I'm far too exhausted to give it the story telling it deserves. I apologize. Your patience, understanding and inexplicable interest is appreciated.

Stay tuned for more inadequate stories and amateur photography.
Oh, by the way, some of the photos above were taken by Rachel or Luke. Neither of whom you know, nor do they know about this blog. So, I think we're pretty much safe.

And that, my friends, is all I have to say for now.

I'm going to go sit and see if I can become any more boring and/or insane with leaving-Japan-paranoia.

(For those who want to know, it means "glasses" as in eye.)

Things You Need to Know

2006-05-23T19:26:00.000+09:00

I love this man.

(I particularly love it when he wears the pants in this picture, I also love his equally festive, vegetable version of these pants.)

His name is Mauro, and I used to work with him at Mother's. I taught him how to fold little cranes out of the wax patty papers that we used to get bread out of the warmers.

In turn, he spent months making me these:

Yes, those are booties. He made them out of wrappers from a box of Newman's O's.
Forget flowers, give me a crafty item made out of what would otherwise be trash and my heart will melt like Earth Balance on hot toast.

And then, there was this one time. . .

2006-05-23T16:49:00.000+09:00

Where I went to Hokkaido,

for the
Snow Festival,

and it was very, very cold. . .

veeeeeeeeeery cold.

BUT, there was this really nice guy named Miller, who let us stay in his warm, cozy home.

It was quite a large home for a lowly ALT. I was very impressed. He even had a gigantic television that swiveled with the touch of a remote control.

We had a great time.

We thoroughly enjoyed the sculptures.

There was "hi touch",

and "Hard Gay".

I particularly appreciated the children in their poofy snow suits and goggles.

I think the boys appreciated the fact that Hokkaido Ladies don't let a little (and by "little" I mean a ton of) snow stop them from prancing and dancing around in their short skirts and sleeveless shirts.

(Where as I, on the other hand, had to give myself a pep talk before exposing my fingers long enough to snap a few crappy photos.)

We all enjoyed the Chocolate Factory

Where there was this clown,

whom, for reasons that still evade me,

dropped his pants.

We pondered deep questions,

and learned a lesson or two.

I heart Hokkaido.

Once Upon a Time

2006-05-23T16:46:00.000+09:00

I wrote a blog. It was a very long and complicated blog, full of pictures and anecdotes from an adventure in the northern regions of Japan.

AND THEN

The internet ate the blog, and left me empty handed.

It's a cold cruel world out there, and now I'm too tired to deal with it.

I should stick with choose your own adventures.

linky dink and a lovely day

2006-05-22T06:28:00.000+09:00

So I started to write a blog, full of links, stories and photos. But in the end it was boring. So instead, I will give you the linky words and images in chronological order, and you can write your own version of my lovely day.

Galleries

Book Stores

My Pal Foot Foot
Son of John

Jon the Dog

The End

Golden

2006-05-02T04:41:00.000+09:00

I leave tomorrow (today) for a six day trip to Kyushu. I'm going with a friend of mine who lives in Satte, her soccer coach boyfriend and five of their soccer playing friends. We're renting a van and going to drive around and camp where ever we see fit. The only thing on the agenda so far is playing a game of soccer and laying out at the beach. Which are pretty much two of the all-time-last things on earth that I would want to be doing with my free time.
Playing sports and prancing around in a bathing suit in front of a bunch of sports loving strangers is not my idea of a good time. When my friend had told me the plan, I told her that she had just described my own personal hell, and asked if we were also planning to go hunting for small baby animals, which we would later eat for dinner.

Honestly, I am excited. I love road trips, I love camping, and my friend (Rachel) is great (taste in extracurricular activities aside), and her boyfriend seems pretty cool too.

Besides, it can't be any worse than what I did for Golden Week last year. . .

Some of you may have read this before, so don't feel obligated to do so again. And to all you first time readers. . . knock yourself out.

"Curiosity almost killed me.

Perhaps I'm being melodramatic (such is my tendency), but this morning I was certainly wishing things would come to an end, because they only seemed to be getting worse.

WARNING: Don't read this if you have a weak stomach, or plan on eating olive oil any time soon.

The story: A couple of weeks ago, my friend Adrian enlightened myself and a few other friends to the commonness of gallbladder stones. it turns out that 99 percent of the population have them. Fortunately, this can be taken care of a by a "simple" at home remedy; which involves drinking (Oh no, I'm feeling queasy just typing this) 2 cups of olive oil and about one cup of freshly squeezed lemon juice. (If you want the details, you can find them here: http://www.alternativehealth.co.nz/gallbladder/gallbladercleanse.htm If you want photos, you're disgusting, but so am I, go here: http://curezone.com/cleanse/liver/default.asp)

Miracle of miracles. I was able to get it all down, and keep it there for about 12 hours. until, around 7 this morning, I got up for what I was hoping to be the exit of the alleged gallbladder stones. but instead, all the olive oil and lemon juice projectiled out of my mouth. Stones or no stones. I don't care. I'm never trying that again. and I'm not eating Italian food for months. UPDATE: Holy crap. Just to let you know. . . it turns out that it worked."

Icing on the cake

2006-05-02T04:22:00.000+09:00

The other day. . . I was with a couple of friends and was about to tell a story. It was the kind of story that pops into my head at random. This type of story gets me really excited, and when they come to me, I feel the need to share them ASAP. This urgency is expressed with an array of hand gestures, raising of the eyebrows, and more often than not, a series of small jumps.

Anyhow, as I was about to unleash said story onto said pair of friends, one of them interrupted me, and said something along the lines of my stories being great, even if they aren't about anything interesting, because of my delivery. I imagine that this was intended to be a compliment, but somehow I felt slightly slighted. I think the reason this commentary rubbed me the wrong way, was that it wasn't followed up with a disclaimer, such as "But, your stories always ARE interesting."

This planted a seed of doubt in my story telling confidence. What if my stories really aren't interesting, and it's only all the jumping and eyebrow gymnastics that hold people's attention?
Have I become a person that's all bells and whistles, with nothing of substance to follow all the fuss? Am I like one of those fancy 3-D cakes with a big race car on it that looks all cool and everything UNTIL the cake has been dished out and you realize that you're holding a plate full of frosting on top of a layer of sugary yellow cake that most likely came from a box with the words "Just add water" printed on it???

Don't answer that or any of the previous questions. I'm not interested in your pity comments, and if the answer is that I am correct, it's probably best that I don't know.
Ignorance is bliss, even if it is blissful ignorance laced with a bit of paranoia.

Freak of Nature

2006-05-02T04:13:00.000+09:00

Today, I saw a cat crossing the street while I was on my way to work. The cat's tail was lopped off. Perhaps this was due to some kind of accident, or maybe it was born that way, or maaaaaybe it has a really mean owner that has poor taste in animal appearances. . . but all of this is beside the point.

The point is, that the way the cat's nub of a tail rested on its butt, gave it the appearance of having two heads.

Today, I saw a two headed cat crossing the street while I was on my way to work. I was so distracted by the sight of it, that I nearly fell off my bike.

I've been reading far too much sci fi lately.

Best Job Ever

2006-03-20T20:29:00.000+09:00

Sometimes I can't believe that I am paid to tutor these girls. I almost feel like I should be the one paying them. Not only are they entertaining, but there have been countless times where I was super sad, but after an hour with them I couldn't stop smiling.

I have been tutoring Kotomi and Ikumi since I arrived in Japan a year and nine months ago. I meet with them once a week, and for a long time all we did was go through these simple English textbooks that their Mother had bought. That was, until the day we completed the last textbook in the highest level that the company made. From then on it was up to me to create my own lessons.

I started making the lessons for the girls under the assumption that because they are better at English than all of my High School students, I could use the same types of lessons on them. Those poor girls! They struggled through four lessons before I realized that, although they were capable of speaking High School level English, their Grade School minds were having a hard time getting through the lessons. I consulted my friends who teach at Grade School, but they said they mostly play games with the kids about colors, or simple vocabulary. These girls are way too smart for that kind of subject matter, so I had to come up with something else. Then I thought about my friend Joshua. He's also a JET, but the lessons that he talks about doing on his blog always humble and inspire me to do more with my kids.

So, lately I've been taking a different approach with the girls. Last week, we drew items in a treasure chest, and listed what they were in English. Then we hid the treasure chests in my apartment and made maps with directions to where they were. The week before that we created super heroes complete with illustrations and profiles of their strengths and weaknesses. Then I drew a picture of a house on fire with a woman and her baby trapped upstairs. I asked the girls how they were going to save them.

Ikumi. . .

. . . had made Chokkato with his sidekick Chokkoto who could clap and make anything magically appear between his wings. He made a hose to put out the fire and then a ladder to rescue the mother and child.

Kotomi. . .

(Ordinarily, she isn't cross-eyed, I promise.)

. . . created a team of ball shaped Pen (Pen is short for penguin and is the girls' favorite Japanese character) First, all of the Pen flew at the house with different food items on skewers, and had a BBQ. After the Pen were fully nourished and energized, they stuck to each other and formed a bridge that went from the ground up to the window where the mother and child were trapped. After the mother and child had safely walked down the Pen bridge, the Pen set to work at eating the BBQ'd remains of the house.
(I called it a "yaki-ie" and the girls and I laughed until we were crying.)

These types of lessons have been way more fun for the girls and myself. As a result, we've gotten a lot closer, which leads to us being more comfortable around each other and therefore a lot sillier as well.
I love these girls.

(Please take note of my finger.)

Yes, it has been nearly a week. Four trips to the clinic, and more antibiotics than I'd care to count later, and my finger is still messed up. On the second doctor's visit, he really did cut open my finger. Surprisingly, that wasn't the worst part. After cutting open my finger, he proceeded to squeeze and knead it for what felt like forever. He told me to come back in a few days, and when I did, it looked the exact same, only with a hole in it. I'm beginning to think that a white bandage covering my right middle finger is just a permanent part of my "new look", and am starting to accept it. On a more positive side, the finger bandage situation has provided much personal amusement with all the teachers giving me the finger, while saying "What is this?"

The Finger

2006-03-16T01:29:00.000+09:00

So, after talking to Greg last night, I decided to see a doctor about my finger. (I consult Greg with all of my medical/ emotional issues for two reasons: one, he's not afraid of putting me in my place, and two, he never sleeps.)

I showed the school nurse, she seemed to know what was wrong, and told me that I needed to go to the clinic. I asked her what they were going to do, and a rough translation of what she said was, "They are going to cut your finger open and stick drugs in it." I nodded and asked her to draw me a map.

The doctor was nice enough. He had me sit down in front of his tray of goodies while he asked a few questions. Then he started swabbing that iron colored liquid all over my finger, and I tried to stay tough while waiting for the worst part to get started. I looked at him with a grimace and a brave smile, and he looked at me like I was crazy. Then he put some greasy stuff all over it and wrapped it up. Only at the end did I realize that he wasn't going to cut my finger.

But, this is what he did do. . .

and it has to stay that way until Friday.

I feel like a big dork. This thing is bigger than the time a couple of years ago, when they bandaged me up because I really DID cut my finger.

I also have to take drugs, which I never do. My body, like most things in life, generally tends to take care of itself. But it's the doctor's orders, and I don't know enough Japanese to argue with him.

(Are you happy now, Greg? I went to the doctor AND I'm taking drugs. I don't even know who I am anymore.)

a quickie

2006-03-13T23:44:00.000+09:00

One last thing before I go. . .

My cousin Derek and Mikey visited a while ago. It was amazing. They were fantastic house guests, and I think I had just as much, if not more, fun as they did showing them around Japan.

Here is a photo taken by Derek

If you want to see more photos and/or read Derek's stories, you should read his blog
(Be prepared to do a little scrolling to see said photos/ stories. Derek is a much more responsible blogger than I am, and updates his more regularly).
Actually, you should read it anyways, because Derek is awesome.

not getting any younger. . .

2006-03-13T22:28:00.000+09:00

Busy, busy, busy. . .

As usual, there is much catching up to be done between you, I, and the internet. I wonder how many people have given up along the way, and no longer read this thing. If you gave up, I can't blame you, I've practically given up myself. . . Look at me, almost two months behind on my story telling?! I should be ashamed of myself.

*NOTE: I am grumpy because my finger feels like it's going to explode. There is something really wrong with it, but I don't know what. I am afraid of going to the doctor, so I'm hoping that my finger will miraculously heal itself before it either falls off or ruptures.

On to happier things. . .

My birthday was awesome.

This is Tez, my Chinese-Australian brother in Japan, and I.

He was amazing, and set up a little dinner get together with some of my favorite people.

Before dinner, Tez, Chris and I met up at a coffee shop that we go to from time to time to shoot the breeze and catch up from time to time. The people who work there are fantastic. For some reason, they get really excited whenever I go in (it could have been the buttons I gave them when I first started going there). They remember my name AND what I like to drink, now that's good service.

When Tez and I were walking by outside, Shin the manager ran outside and started singing Happy Birthday to me, and up until that point, totally made my day. Then we went in, ordered our drinks and sat down to wait for Chris.

Every single person working came over to wish me a happy birthday in English and Japanese. As you might imagine, I got really choked up.

AND THEN. . .

After Chris had arrived and we had finished drinking our coffees, Shin came over and gave me this:

He said it was from the staff of the cafe, and I turned around and they were all standing together, smiling. Naturally, I freaked out, jumped up, and started bowing ridiculously.

Dinner was fun too.
We went to an Indian restaurant that I love, mostly because the guys that run it are awesome, and smile really big whenever I come in. They do not, however, smile really big for the camera.

Here is Chris looking metal, because he likes it, and his girlfriend Ayako looking lovely, because she is.

My Japanese teachers are rad.

Will tried to get fresh with Suzuki Sensei, but neither she nor Sakuma Sensei seemed all that amused by it.

This is another Suzuki Sensei, who is very easily amused.

Jocelyn and I heart Prem

Mark wins the prize for traveling the farthest on a week night just to join us for my birthday dinner.

Two hours from Kasukabe to Kumagaya.

Markus and Mitsuko win the prize for cutest couple.

Markus and Jeff were down the pot-pou-rri.

Older, but not wiser.

Here are some more photos that I don't have anything "witty" to say about.

That's all for now. Stay tuned for pictures from Hokkaido and if you are lucky and I am not, one of my soon to be ruptured finger.

A Sad Day in Japan

2006-03-13T21:58:00.000+09:00

I'm in denial.

Sometime today, between the hours of 10:00 am (When I went to take my trash out) and 5:30 pm (When I left for the gym) someone, stole one of my bikes.

I was home all day today, making crafts while listening to music and/or podcasts. I keep my bikes parked outside the front door of my apartment, so whomever stole it did so while I was at home, KNOWING that I was at home. I have two bikes, one that came with my apartment, and another that I bought for when people come stay with me. Both of the bikes are pretty crappy. The bike thief took the less crappy of the two, although the other was unlocked, with the key in it.

I just don't understand, and the more I think about it, the less sense it makes. This is putting a kink in my whole "there are more good people in the world than bad ones" theory. I am the same person, living in the same neighborhood, who left both of her sliding glass doors wide open for the entire fall season. I leave my door unlocked when I go down the block to do my laundry, or when I make a run to the vegetable stand around the corner. Tonight I double checked to make sure my bike was locked up, and then I bolted my front door shut. It makes me really sad to feel like I need to do those things for reasons beyond the fact that if I don't, and for some reason my mother finds out, she'll get upset.

on ice, sickness, death and popsicles

2006-02-09T13:18:00.000+09:00

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. . .

Popsicles.
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

2006-02-06T21:04:00.000+09:00

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.

Chapter Two

2006-01-19T22:29:00.000+09:00

The Ghost of Christmas Past

(I didn't actually take any pictures on Christmas. These were taken by James and given to me by Mark)

To those of you who were concerned, Christmas was lovely.
I spent it with some wonderful British people, and a Canadian. It felt good to be outnumbered.

"Prezzies" were exchanged,

games were played. . .

dinner was made. . .

and we ended the evening of good conversation, good food and good times by watching the Never Ending Story.

lovely, lovely, lovely

Better late than never?

2006-01-19T21:12:00.000+09:00

I can only hope. . .
Sometimes I forget that you read this of your own free will, and I feel guilty for posting things that are only interesting to me. On the flip side, I feel guilty for NOT posting things as well. . . This is really a lose lose situation, until I inevitably snap out of it, throw caution to the wind, and blog to my little heart's content. . .

All that said. . . Press on little heart of mine! May the huge hearts of the readers at large be warmed, inspired and at the very least, entertained.

The long awaited, and much anticipated, soon to be fully appreciated. . .

CHRISTMAS RE-CAP!

Can you handle it? I certainly hope so.

Chapter One

The Kasukabe Krew and Satte Too Christmas Fest

(That's not what we called it, but in retrospect, we SHOULD have)

Here we have Sharon (aka: Shaz. . . Aussies are big on nicknames, and abbreviation in general). She's an artist from Arizona, that shares an appreciation with myself for film festivals, art shows and music. . . Although we both tend to be too busy to do any of those things together, I love it when we actually do end up in the same place at the same time.

To the right we have Adrian (aka: Age). He's from Melbourne, and is my vegetarian partner in non-crime. We stick together with the "Sumimasen, begetarian desu. . . " and defend one another to the server whenever our food shows up with fish flakes on top. I also love Age, because every (and I do mean every) time I see him, he is compelled to hug me and say "Aaaaaaawww. . . MEL!!!" for no apparent reason. . . .maybe it's the mutual animal love.

We had dinner. . .

and a "white elephant" gift exchange at a local izakaiya. . .

(In truth, Age knows you are his father. . . but don't tell anyone, it's a secret.)

Geeeeeeeeeeeez. . . Janice! When are you going to get off that radish, and start enjoying the party?

That's Terrence (aka: Tez) in the middle. He's from Sydney, and don't you forget it! (One time I did, and you should have heard the lecture he gave me!)

On the right we have Age's lovely girlfriend Yuka. Her English is flawless, and in fact, she has an adorable British accent from studying abroad, so I personally like her English better than my own.

No evening would be complete without a good round of Karaoke

That's Rachel on the mic, giving her rendition of what was most likely a pop song.

Let me introduce you to Marcus from Canada, and his girlfriend Mitsuko. I love them both, and you would too, trust me.

These are two girls that we ran into on the way to Karaoke. Apparently Tez had met one of them somewhere before, so we convinced them to join us for the latter half of our Christmas shinanagins.

Good times had by all.

pi-su out

Speaking of hand signals. . .

2006-01-16T20:48:00.000+09:00

Last night I saw John Zorn's Cobra. . . perhaps many of you, like myself, are unfamiliar with Cobra. At least I was, until my friend Matt invited me to see it.

What is "Cobra"? you ask. . . Well, I'm so glad you did.

Cobra is a game that sets up rules for making improv music, and it's pretty much one of the most amazing musical performances I've ever seen.
I won't go too much into detail, because that would only kill the magic. . . but imagine this. . .

Twelve or so musicians (one of whom was one of the girls from Buffalo Daughter, on a moog) playing all sorts of instruments, from an electric bass, drums and laptops, to tiny little keyboards, a biwa, various things that are blown into, vocal chords and a newspaper.
Hand signals, signs on poster boards, green headbands and a camouflage hat were all a part of the process, and in the end it was amazing.

No one in the audience knew the rules (or are supposed to know the rules) to the game, and that is a huge part of the entertainment, that and watching someone try to point to their nose with two fingers while playing the stand up bass.

Should Cobra come to town in your city of residence, I strongly urge you to check it out. . . Or if you'll be passing through Japan during the month of May, perhaps, if you're lucky, you can come along when we see it again. . .

On a happier note. . .

2006-01-16T20:32:00.000+09:00

On my way to the interview, four people got onto the train I was in. Actually, there were more people than that, but these four really stood out.
They were each wearing a red, shiny baseball jacket. The jacket had one of those eye in the pyramid things that are on the US dollar, only it had sprouted wings, and it was framed by the words "Security Angel" and "Safety Patrol". They were wearing black cargo pants, black work boots, black, grippy gloves and red berets. Each beret was covered in a variety of pins. . . Gold stars, eagles, Japanese and American flags, anime characters, the numbers 9 1 1. . . They had utility belts with water bottles, walkie talkies, and lots of keychains strapped to them. These people were all business. They paired off, and stood by the doors of the train car. At each stop, one member of each pair would get off the train, stand by the door, and then get back on once all of the "normal people" had disembarked, and gotten onto the train. They had fancy hand signals, and there was a lot of nodding and eye contact going on. I wanted really badly to take their picture, but I was afraid that one of the Security Angels would confiscate my ketai, and I had an interview to get to. . .

In summary, the Security Angels did not make me feel safe. In fact, they instilled a fear in me where there wasn't one before. I must be unsafe, if I need people in red jackets to protect me. Although, I guess whatever it was they were protecting me from couldn't be all that bad, if all it took to ward them off was a water bottle and some keychains.

Like a baby. . .

2006-01-16T20:04:00.000+09:00

Today I had my re-contracting interview. I knew what to expect, it was the same deal as last year. . .

"Are you satisfied with your work situation?"

"How is your workload?"

"What are things that you feel could be improved upon?"

"Do you dress appropriately for work?"

Things were going smoothly, until they got to the one where they asked me, "Are you planning to re-contract?" I felt my stomach turn into a little fist, and was sure that my cheeks and nose were quickly turning pink.

"No. . . no. . . I'm not re-contracting. . .no. . . ."

"Why not?"

"I HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL."

"Is that all? What if your work situation were changed? What if we moved you to another school? Would that affect your decision?"

"No, you don't understand. My school is wonderful. I work with wonderful people, the kids. . . the kids are amazing. . . No, no, no. I have to move on. . . I have to. . . I can not stay here in Japan. . . "

The world started getting all liquidy, and my interviewers mercifully changed the subject.

But then, at the end. . . they asked me if I had anything else to say. . .

"You are all doing a great job. You are doing too good of a job. You are making this very, very difficult for me. . . I don't want to leave. . . No. I HAVE to go. . .but thank you."

Then I lost it.

I was so embarrassed. I tried to talk through it, but I couldn't see my interviewers' faces through all the water that had somehow found its way to my eyeballs. So I said thank you a few more times, did some awkward bows, and stumbled off.

So that's it.

I'll be back in America, land of. . .
Land of not here.
in no time.

It's not that I don't love you (you being the people for whom this blog is intended- not that I mind the extra readers- the people who I left behind and will be returning to, come August). As I was explaining to my dear, dear friend Adrian,
"I love Japan so intensely, but I also love all that is home to me in America a lot. I have a lot of love to give. . . I have a RIDICULOUS amount of love to give, the trouble is that I can't be everywhere and do everything in order to get all that love out at once. I suppose things have to be loved one at a time, and that really sucks."

So, I'm working on an "omnipresent-for-a-day" machine, or perhaps a magical pill. . . . I don't think one day is too much to ask, especially if all I want to do is love everything and everyone at the same time, and only once in a while.

And so it begins. . .

2006-01-03T15:15:00.000+09:00

Ok, ok, the time has finally come for the post holiday catch up. Sorry for the delay, I hope it's worth the wait. . .

Brace yourself.

We had a Christmas party at the same orphanage we had the Halloween party in October. You know what that means. . . I'm about to bombard you with photos of kids that I think are both amazing and adorable.

That's Erika on the left. Although she blends in with the kids, she's an ALT like myself. She's actually one of my favorite people in Japan, and she lives about a five minute bike ride away from my apartment. Now isn't that convenient? Why, yes. Yes it is.

This is Prem. . .

She's also an ALT, and coincidentally, also one of my favorite people in Japan. She's always saying things that freak me out with their amazingness. Just yesterday, she said something and I made her stop walking and take a look at my face, because it was saying how impressed I was much better than my words ever could.

Oh, and by the way. . . she's magical. What's not to love?

This little boy is an angel. Not only did he remember me from last time, and was quick to give me a hug, but he was also quick to grab a broom and be super helpful during clean up time.

Do you remember this little girl?

She's the one that loved having her picture taken last time. Apparently, a lot can change in a couple of months, and this time, she thought it was much more fun to cover her face or the camera lens rather than be photographed. So, instead, I lent her my camera and she took the rest of these photos.

It started out a little rough. . .

But, once I showed her how much better the pictures look when she keeps her fingers off the lens, things started to improve. . .

(This little girl was wonderful, by the way. She's a Jr. High student, could speak a little English and was very patient with my Japanese. We totally bonded, mostly by talking about boys, but it was still awesome.)

Poor Rudolf

Pretty good, right? I wish I could take that little girl with me everywhere. I wonder if I could hire her to be my permanent photographer? Hmmmm. . . .

ok, that's it.

My life is now complete.

2005-12-29T16:12:00.000+09:00

See it and believe it.

Yes, it's true. I made boba, at home, from scratch (more or less). Not just any boba, but boba with Thai iced tea and soy milk. I am happy to report, it was, in fact, the best boba I have ever had in my entire life. (and I know my boba, believe you me). This beverage could not have been made without the generous gift of dried tapioca, "black tea dust number one brand" and a magical cloth strainer from Nok's amazing parents.

So, there's the answer to those of you who've been wondering. . . "Geeeeez, Melissa! Two whole weeks off of work! What have you been doing with all your free time???"

Making boba.

Other things I have been doing with my free time include:
Going to the gym.
Sitting and catching up with friends over $6 cups of coffee.
Crafts.
Listening to radio shows on the internet.
Reading.
Buying new music.
Drinking as many hot beverages as my bladder can take.
Sleeping.
Cleaning things.
NOT replying to emails.
NOT making new lesson plans.
NOT studying Japanese.
NOT updating my blog.
NOT traveling.
NOT filling out thank you cards.

You win some, you loose some. But all in all it's been pretty much awesome.

(Oh, and I AM sorry about the not replying to emails/ not filling out thank you cards bit. Those actions do not reflect a lack of appreciation, nor the absence of a desire to keep in touch.
It just means I'm behaving like a lazy person, and most likely out and about paying too much to do too little.)

one, two, three

2005-12-03T22:26:00.000+09:00

1. Have you ever noticed that some people gain weight in their earlobes? I realized this for the first time last week, when I was testing one of my chubbier students. I think that he is adorable, and have to fight off the urge to hug him whenever I see him. This makes fair grading extremely difficult. He's not the best at English, but how can I fail someone who looks so huggable?
Anyhow, while he was struggling through giving directions to the Post Office for his speaking test, I was staring at his earlobes. The thought struck me; at what point does your body decide to start distributing excess fat to your ear lobes? Do some people put on weight in their ears more quickly than others? Do your ears sweat? How does one "tone-up" an earlobe? Have you ever heard someone say, "I'm sorry, I can't eat that. It'll go straight to my lobes."? I suppose if I could choose where to deposit a little extra chubbiness, my ears wouldn't be the worst place to put it. After all, I could always grow my hair out.

2. Have you ever wondered how Japanese school girls keep their knee socks perfectly placed at all times? Well, I do. At least, I did, until I uncovered their secret. I've worn knee socks and it's no easy task, let me tell you. One is always sliding down, while the other stays neatly in place. Why don't they slide down together? At least that way they'd match. But no, oh no, they have some sort of tag team arrangement going on, where they take turns driving the knee sock wearer crazy. What is the Japanese school girl secret? They glue stick their socks in place! BELIEVE IT! I saw it with my own two eyes on the train. They really do think of everything in this country.

3. One of the girls I tutor calls me "teach teach" and I love it.

THE FUNNEST THING I'VE EVER DONE IN MY ENTIRE LIFE

2005-11-30T21:29:00.000+09:00

Seriously.

And I know fun. . .I've tried all sorts of fun things in my life. I've seen and heard incredible artists and musicians. I've been to many wonderful places. I've even filed my own taxes, but I have to say that "Shower Climbing" is by far the most fun thing I've ever done.

Seriously.

How does one climb a shower? you ask. Well, I'm so glad you did.
Shower climbing is like hiking, repelling, swimming, and river rafting all rolled into one. I went about a month ago, with my friend Lynette, and two of my Japanese teachers, Suzuki Sensei and Sakuma Sensei.

The first thing you have to do is put on two, very thick wetsuits, a pair of water shoes, an extra vest, a helmet, and a flap over your butt (that we'll get into later). This ensures that you stay warm, and that you look nice and fat. It's awesome.

You start out hiking along, and if you're me, you're wondering why you're wearing a helmet.

Meanwhile, the wonderful tourguide makes you wish you had been doing a better job studying your Japanese, so you could understand all the interesting facts he's sharing about the nature surrounding you.

For example, the fact that Japanese people think that this river looks like a mustache

And that's why this place is named "Mount Sneezy" in Japanese

The next thing you know, you're walking THROUGH the river, rather than along it. Then you're climbing up along waterfalls feeling very thankful for your helmet and non-slip shoes.

Here's Lynette passing under a waterfall. . .

There goes Suzuki Sensei. . .

I was a little less graceful than either of them. . .

my non-slip shoes slipped.

Remember the butt flaps?

Here we are getting ready to use them. . .

TO SLIDE DOWN THE RIVER!!!

Wild Rivers has nothing on Mt. Sneezy.

So much fun.

When the day was done, we were all exhausted, and all we wanted to do was get home.

We were so tired that none of us noticed as we passed our stop, and ended up having to wait for what felt like forever to get going in the right direction again.

But I'd get lost a hundred times if that's what it took to go shower climbing (I'd probably get lost a hundred times anyways). Seriously. Shower climing is the funnest thing of all time.

Tai ni ikitai!

2005-11-29T23:57:00.000+09:00

A couple of weeks ago, I took a short trip to Thailand.

I stayed with my friend Nok, her wonderful parents and their two friendly cats.

You can't tell by looking at Nok, but her mom is an AMAZING cook!

Thailand is a wonderful place.

Everything about it feels full of life and energy.

Even the guard statues to their temples look like they're alive.

I could have sworn that these ones sing when no one is around.

Hello little friend!

Thailand makes you want to smile nonstop.

I mean, look at how they decorate their temples.

It's all so full of life, that it almost hurt my eyes to look around.

Good thing Nok and I bought some new, fancy sunglasses.

Thailand makes you feel alive

and it makes you feel GOOD about being alive.

Look at this girl. . .

It's safe to say she has a rather substantial backside, but does she look depressed about it?
Not in the slightest. In fact, I might even venture to say she's flaunting it.

Even Ronald McDonald is caught up in the energy of Thailand.

He just can't help himself.

I don't blame him.

What's NOT to love about a place that uses little magic plastic discs for train tokens

so that every time you use one, you feel like you're going for a ride at a carnival or something.

Nok and I did all sorts of fun things.

Like going to an amaaaazing market

Where you can get THE BEST THAI ICED TEA I'VE EVER HAD
in a plastic bag

and refreshing frozen fruity things on a stick

Now, THIS was a serious bookstore

and this was serious bike parking lot.

I tried all kinds of amazing foods that I'd never seen before

But, I have to admit. . . one of the most unique experiences I had was going to the movies.
It wasn't your ordinary theater, it was one the many luxury theaters they have all over Bangkok. For the meager price of about ten dollars (that's half what it costs to see a movie at any regular theater in Japan) you can be treated like royalty.
After buying my ticket, I walked down a red carpet between red velvet ropes and through a pair of glass doors with a big gold star painted on the middle of them. I entered the VIP bar/ lounge, where, had I arrived on time, I could sit in big cushion-y velvet chairs and enjoy my complimentary cocktail and snack, while browsing through magazines and putting my feet up on shiny dark wood tables.

Although I was late, I walked into the theater that had nothing in it but huge red leather recliners, each with their own wooden table, and care package. On each seat, there was a bag that contained a pillow, a soft blanket (better than the one on the plane, that's for sure), and a new pair of socks.

I figured out the remote control for the recliner, before I opened the care package and discovered the socks.

Thank you Thailand for your hospitality. I thoroughly enjoyed you. And thank you Nok for being a fantastic tour guide, you were definitely my favorite thing about Thailand (and that's saying a lot.)

Fishies

2005-11-29T23:08:00.000+09:00

Last week I took a trip to the aquarium with my friend Sakuma. . .

The major difference between visiting an aquarium in Japan vs. the US, (aside from everyone taking pictures of all the fish with their celphones) is that you will hear people saying things like "That kind of sashimi is really good." and "We had that for dinner last night." and finally, "Oishiso!" ("Delicious!!")

Picture time!

I won't eat him. . .

Or her. . .

Or him. . .

I wanted to hug this fish really, really badly.
I loved him.

Would you like to see him up close?

Hello my friend!

Jellyfish don't have brains, but I won't eat them either.

This seahorse is a tricky one.
It wants totally wants me to eat it, so it's disguising itself as a plant.

Sorry seahorse, I refuse to eat you as well.

And I most certainly would never eat a penguin.

Because I love them

This fish, however, might have been able to eat me

THE END

Blogging Bonanza. . .

2005-11-29T13:34:00.000+09:00

I've been so busy living life, that I haven't had time to sit here and write about. I know, I know, how have you survived without me, and your regular intake of the word "amaaaaaaaaazing"?
Well, let's get down to business. . .

I'm going to take you on journey through the past. . .
who knew time travel was so easy?

Thanksgiving in Japan

Although I would have preferred stuffing myself with Myste's version of a Tofurkey, and spending time with my family, I had a really good time. I won't bore you with the details, but I went to a Thanksgiving pot luck on Wednesday, and on Thursday I went out to dinner with some of my favourite people.

Here's are a few photos from the party. . .

This is Roy, our host for the evening. He hails from Vermont. He's intelligent, speaks Japanese, and is vegetarian friendly. Is there any wonder that I think he's fantastic?

Meet Matt

This is a horrible photo, I know. But I love it, because this is the face he makes when he's laughing. Matt is a wonderful person, and I don't know what I'd do without him. He's really funny and can also speak Japanese. He spends way too much time on the internet, and may actually be reading this right now. Just in case, let's all say hello. . .

Hello Matt. Get off the internet and call Melissa.

Here is what was left of the rice salad I made. . .

And here's what was left of the brownies. . .

That concludes our Thanksgiving re-cap.
Stay tuned for more bad photos and useless information.

Note Worthy

2005-11-21T17:55:00.000+09:00

Today, I paid what would be the equivalent of one US dollar for a single piece of celery at the vegetable stand. It better be the most delicious celery stalk of all time.

Nikko is Nippon

2005-11-09T02:35:00.000+09:00

Last Sunday, my friend Lynett and I went hiking in Nikko.

Lynett also works for the Jet Programme, and our apartments are only a five minute bike ride appart.
(Credit where credit is due: All photos of myself were taken by Lynett.)

Before we started our hike, we checked out the lovely waterfall, whose name escapes me.

Oooooooooooo. . . Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!!!!
Right?
Believe you me, this photo doesn't do it justice.

Right now, Nikko is in it's peak leaf changing season (Which also has a name that I can't seem to remember at 3 in the morning. Maybe I should have put my blogging off until I had some decent sleep. . . ) Everything was covered in leaves of red, orange and gold. It was AMAAAAAAAZING! And I am not just saying that because I always do.

After the hour or so hike up the mountain, we took a look around. . .

(Doesn't everyone wear a skirt when they go hiking?)

. . .and then we had a coffee break.

Here I am going to take a little moment to introduce you to my friend Lynett.
She's Canadian. She's a wonderful, down to earth person, with a really funny, sarcastic side. She used to work at an aquarium and I like listening to her stories about animals that live in water. She's great. You wish YOU knew her in real life. I am very, very lucky.

This bridge is famous. . .

. . .but not very useful. No one is allowed to walk on it yet.

Monkey boogers anyone?

No thanks. I don't think they're vegan.

I forget, does the 7 Eleven at home carry tiny bottles of magic health elixers?

I know we don't have these. . .

This was a cross between yaki onigiri and dango. . . and it was de-licious.

Lynett and I ended our amazing day at one of my favorite restaurants.

The food is good, the little old lady that runs it is awesome but the atmosphere takes the cake.

The walls and parts of the ceiling are covered with all sorts of things left behind by customers who felt compelled to make their own personal mark.

Can you find what I left behind here a year ago?

This is a picture of me as a man. . . with really bad hat hair.
(Yet I still put it on the internet, at least you know I have nothing to hide)

"The aromatic scent of cocoa will give you a refreshment and a hearty satisfaction."

Canned hot beverages at vending machines on every corner.
That and really bad English are two of my favorite things about Japan.

peace.

Full of Surprises

2005-11-07T17:49:00.000+09:00

Saturday, I went to yet another Bunkasai (School Festival) at Tokyo Music University with one of the JTEs that I work with.

Her daughter performed with the opera group. Honestly, it was AMAZING. It blew my mind to see four, seemingly "normal" Japanese guys get up and start singing opera. I was in awe. What if you met someone somewhere, and you asked,
"So, what do you do?"
"I sing."
"Really, sing something for me."
"Ok. Faniculi, faniculi, faniculi, FANICULAAAAA. . . . "

I seriously think I would freak out. I realize that there are people all over the world who sing opera. I have even BEEN to a few operas. However, this was the first time I realized that actual people, accessable people can sing opera.

It's like a little secret weapon they could carry around with them to parties. Can you imagine?
"So, anyone here have a special tallent?"
"I can burp the alphabet."
"I can do shadow puppets."
"I can open a can of soda with my belly button." (Well, that would be pretty cool.)
"Faniculi, faniculi, faniculi, FANICULAAAAAA. . . ."

I know beyond a doubt that I would walk over to that person, and say something to the effect of, "That was AMAAAAAAAAAAZING!!! Can we be friends????"
(Yes, I am that shameless. Some of you may know that from experience. Those magic words may have even been the beginning of our own beautiful friendship.)

If only I could figure out how to say "AMAAAAAAAAAAAAAZING!!!!" in Japanese. . .

New Hair

2005-11-02T02:48:00.000+09:00

new me.

Cultural Differences

2005-10-29T20:42:00.000+09:00

Today I noticed a really strong, odd smell making its way though out the second floor of Showa Koko.

An English teacher (Sato Sensei) explained to me that, after the kids in Biology had finished dissecting a squid, the Science teacher (Ochi Sensei) decided that the squid didn't look too bad, so he cooked it and ate it.

Please tell me that this is as disturbing to you as it was to me!

I tried to explain to Sato Sensei why I thought it was gross to eat today's science lesson. But he kept saying, "It's not Science, it's Biology." I'm still failing to see the logic behind his reasoning. Apparently, our little conversation worked up an appetite for Sato Sensei, so he decided he was going to check things out. He came back waving a pair of ohashi (chopsticks) at me and smiling.

Thank God I didn't have to teach with him today. I'm not a fan of squid breath.

I'm not a fan of stereotypes but. . .

2005-10-27T19:49:00.000+09:00

It's hard for me to dispute the notion that
"Japanese kids are the cutest kids on earth".
Then again, I might be biased.

Last Saturday, I joined a group of ALT's and assorted English speaking Japanese people at the Saitama Children's Home. Together we threw a makeshift/ low budget Halloween party for the kids.

This little boy is not only beautiful, but he's also incredibly friendly. The minute I walked through the door, he grabbed my hand and started introducing me to his friends.

My friend Jocelyn and I were in charge of bowling. I don't know much about bowling, but the kids seemed to love it.
(Trust me, this boy was having way more fun than this picture would lead you to believe. This, is his "photo face".)

The kids had such amazing personalities. In retrospect, I'm impressed with how easily I got to know so many of them, in spite of the language barrier and the fact that we only spent three hours with them. I honestly can't remember if we spoke mostly in English or Japanese, but I remember their facial expressions, and the sound of their laughs.

This girl ooozed love.
I over heard her confessing to another ALT that she's a "half-u". The ALT was confused and didn't understand what she was saying. I was really tempted to jump in and explain things, but in the end I decided against it.
I am a half-u myself. ("half-u"= half Japanese and half anything else.) In the States, this labels me as "exotic" if not interesting, but for a Japanese person in Japan, more often than not, it's something to be ashamed of.

This little girl is a model in the making, let me tell you.
She had just as much fun coming up with new poses for the camera, as I did taking the pictures.

This last one was my favorite. You can't really tell, but she was even spinning the umbrella for the ultra-cute effect.
(I almost stole her. For real, I seriously considered it. She probably would have fit in my purse, but a cutie like that. . . they'd miss her in no time.)

Bright Idea

2005-10-15T16:04:00.000+09:00

hmmm. . .

Perhaps you are wondering what this is. Is it from a recent adventure? Is it from some far and distant place, with the strangest landscape ever?

Nope. Nope. Nope.

That's a picture of my skirt. . .after I let it marinate in Matte for about five months.
It was originally a light gray skirt, until I spilled some tea on it. Rather than bleach out the spot, I thought maybe I could die the skirt using Matte. I've always loved the color of Matte. . . So, I made a fresh pot, poured it over my skirt, and put it in a glass tupperware outside my apartment.
Then I forgot about it. . . Well, I did remember it from time to time. At first I thought, the longer it soaks the better, right? And then, after a few months had passed, every time I thought about the skirt I would be too afraid to check it out. I've had bad experiences with leaving liquids in jars before (Katie, I'm sure you remember the "death smell" that never did leave my car after that art project gone terribly, terribly wrong.)

Today, I was feeling particularly courageous (and curious). So, there you have it.
The mold had eaten a hole through my skirt, so there's no way I could have salvaged it. Although I admit, the thought did cross my mind. So if you ever see me in a strangely colored skirt and you want to give me a hug, but you're worried about mold infestation, you have nothing to fear.

Last, but most certainly not least

2005-10-01T13:21:00.000+09:00

These are the last of my Matsushima photos. . .

On my first full day in Matsushima, I woke up early, without a plan.
On my way to the station, I saw this path, and I had to walk through it.

Wouldn't you?

This is what was at the other end. . .

Sometimes curiosity does pay off.

Only at a beach in Japan, would I not be surprised to find an abandoned rice cooker.

An early morning at the beach is the best way to start your day.

Later, I ran into my roommate from the hostel. Frauka (I doubt I spelled that right) is a retired English teacher from Germany. She looks like she's in her 60s (although I didn't ask) and she's traveling through Japan, alone, for six weeks (and I thought I was tough). She insisted on letting me borrow the bike she had rented, because she was done using it for the day.

So I took her bike and rode to the island of Okamustushima.

It was amazing.

The weather was nice and cool. It was just beginning to rain, when I set off for what I refer to as:

the SCARY HIKE

It felt like there was no one else on the island, and there definitely wasn't anyone else on this trail. . .Aside from the giant spiders, scary frogs, and a SNAKE. (Well, ok, it might not have been a snake, it could have been a really big worm. . .but, it WAS scary.) By the time I got halfway up the mountain, it had started raining. The sounds of the rain kept freaking me out, and every so often I would jump, or gasp out loud.

Along the way, I saw this little temple

In the end it was worth it, because I ended up here. . .

With this view. . .

and this one. . .

Aaaaaaaah! Matsushima!

*PS: This has nothing to do with anything, but I thought you might like to know. . .as Katie, and anyone else that has ever slept in the same room with me can tell you, I talk in my sleep. The first night in the hostel, Frauka snored so much that I felt like I hardly slept. Apparently I did, because when we were getting ready in the morning, she told me that I had been talking in my sleep. . . IN JAPANESE! Now, if I only I could do that while I was awake. . .

sights seen

2005-09-27T16:44:00.000+09:00

Like any responsible tourist, I did my fair share of sight seeing while I was in Matsushima.
These are my crappy tourist shots.
(Kent, I hope you never see this. If you do, you have every right to be disappointed in me. When I get in tourist mode, it's like I forget everything I ever learned in photo. I have no one to blame but myself.)

Sassy Statue

If only this statue could talk. I'm sure we'd become the best of friends.
Him (her?) with his sarcasm, and me with my lameness to provide him with all the material he needs to tease me.

Caves!

aaaaand. . . MORE CAVES!!!

The caves were my favorite tourist attraction. The monks dug these into the rock to make small areas to meditate in. In reminded me of being a kid hiding in a closet, or building a fort to be alone with my thoughts. There's something that feels good about being in a small place all to yourself.

This minivan must belong to the toughest soccer mom ever.
I bet they win all their games, and that she gives them lemon wedges instead of oranges and tells them to just deal with it.

This, is a pond.

Which was next to this rock garden.

Which is where I saw this tree.

I felt sorry for this poor, unfortunate tree. I wonder what happened to it that made it end up in a full body cast on crutches.

One of many bridges over the bay

And this is me, in front of a bridge over the bay.

I know, I'm not a tourist attraction (YET. . . one can always hope. . .) But maybe you miss my face as much as I miss yours. Well, just in case, there you have it.

mmmmmmmatsushima. . .

2005-09-26T19:08:00.000+09:00

This blog is strictly for the viewing pleasure of Miss Stacy Michelson.
It has nothing in it but pictures of food (and the places the food was eaten)

mmmmmochi

best breakfast ever

I started my first full day in Matsushima, with a hot bowl of macha and warm fresh mochi.
And what better place to have traditional green tea than in the largest Momoyama-style tea house in Japan, with this view. . .

A $40 lunch, that was worth every last yen

I never pass up the opportunity to treat myself to temple food.
Shojin Ryori is strict vegetarian cooking, that doesn't use any animal products
(nor does is use onions or garlic because their flavor is "too strong")

The first course came in this magical box that opened to show the food hidden inside.

This is a hazelnut dipped in nuts, with a cooked carrot, cut into the shape of a leaf.

There were gold flakes on the beans. I'm pretty sure they weren't poisonous, because I ate them and I'm still alive.

The lady that brought me each course announced her arrival before entering the room. . .

Then she kneeled down, placed the food in front of me, and explained each dish. . .

Too bad I didn't understand what she was saying.

After I had finished eating, they sent in the "English Speaking Lady". She was amazing. We had a nice little chat about vegetarian food, tourists and typhoons.

mm, mm, mmmm! mmmatsushima!

For Erik

2005-09-26T00:05:00.000+09:00

I forget, do we have Hello Kitty scooters in the States?

Just in case we don't, I thought you might appreciate a photo of one.

Ah, Matsushima!

2005-09-25T18:03:00.001+09:00

The Haiku poet, Matsuo Basho visited Matsushima in 1689.

It is said that it's beauty left him with nothing more to say than:

Matsushima ah, Matsushima!
Ah, Matsushima, ah!
Matsushima, ah!

Don't I look chipper for it being 5:30 in the morning?
Thank God for coffee (and thank Kristin for giving me a fresh bag of it to take back to Japan.)
IKIMASHO!!

Consider yourself forewarned, I took this trip by myself. So, there will be nothing but crappy landscape photos and lame pictures of myself in the blog that lies ahead. Don't waste your time if that sounds as boring to you as it does to me. I won't be offended, because I'll probably never know.

I took the train all the way to Honshiogama, where I hopped on the ferry to Matsushima Bay.

The boat I took did NOT look like this. . .

Or this. . .

Oooooor this. . .

Nope, nope. Just a regular old boat for me. The inside of it looked like this. . .

The couple sitting in front of me entertained themselves during the trip by feeding the birds. As a result, the birds flew along with us the whole time. There were moments I could have reached out and grabbed one of them, if I was that sort of girl.

Here are some of the more famous islands that the pre-recorded tour lady announced over the loudspeaker. . .

This one is supposed to look like a turtle. . .

This one is supposed to look like a man wearing a hat, with a cigarette in his mouth. . .

This one looks neat. . .

This one is my favorite, although I forgot what it is supposed to look like. To me, it looks like the little island is saying "hello" to the bigger island. . .

well HELLO, mr. island.

Matsushima Bay, (matsu = pine, and shima = island) is famous for its 260 pine covered islands. It's also ranked as having one of "Japan's Three Greatest Views"
I just realized that I have far too many photos for one blog entry.
You and I both need a rest, so let's take a little break.

Until next time. . .

Aaaaaaaah Matsushima!

All in a day's work

2005-09-10T18:30:00.000+09:00

Welcome to Showa Koko's School Festival

The kids have been planning and preparing for this year's school festival all summer. For the school festival, each home room does "something". That can be anything from setting up a restaurant. . .

to making a giant genie.

The day started off with each class performing their own choreographed "dance". Each of the students has to participate, which makes for a rather "interesting" (and LONG) show.
Every class has a "theme" of some kind, but more often than not, the connections between that theme, their dance, and what their class does is pretty loose.

Personally, my favorite part of the school festival are the haunted houses. Let me tell you, you haven't been in a haunted house, until you've been in one that was made by a bunch of Japanese kids, and you've walked through it with a group of screaming Japanese high school girls. I thought I was going to loose my clothing, if not my mind, by the time I got out of there. The girls were clinging to me for dear life, and screaming at the top of their lungs, in Japanese.
Please note the boy in pink. He did an EXCELLENT job freaking out all of the girls before we even got into the Horror House. (For those who have read my blogs in the past, he's also the boy who cried while watching a Doraiman cartoon on the bus. Needless to say, I love this kid.)

We waited for over an hour to go into the "Horror House"

The kids, the kids, the kids

These two girls are angels. The personality of the one on the right, reminds me of my cousin Brianne. It's really hard for me not to hug her every day after class.

These two boys are a riot. The one on the left is a first year student. He speaks English REALLY! LOUDLY! AND! ABRUPTLY! He also seems to be most comfortable standing really close to you and yelling into your face. He kind of freaks me out, but I admire his effort.
Coincidentally, both of these boys are excellent break dancers.
Seriously.

The boy on the right is ADORABLE. But, I suppose you can see that for yourselves. He is the student who, when asked last semester, "What is your favorite thing to do, and why?" answered, "My favorite thing is eating rice because it is delicious, I like rice, and white."

This boy is a nut.
He'll do anything for attention (a trait which I generally find irritating)
Nevertheless, he's also probably one of my favorite students from last year.

Days like these, I love my job.
Can you blame me?

Home Sweet Home

2005-09-03T18:38:00.000+09:00

This is for you Dustin.
Mi casa es su casa.

Haite kudasai!
Please take your shoes off and watch your step.

Welcome to my "tetami" room, where tea can be drank, movies can be watched, English is taught and my bed is just three steps away.

Speaking of my bedroom. . .

My bed looks huge because it IS.

Here, let me give you a little perspective on just how big it is.

The photo above, is where I am seated this very moment (and most other moments when I'm at home). And to the right we have my wardrobe. Please take note of the book that is keeping it level. At first, I thought the girl that had lived here before me had just left it there and forgot about it. I went to pick it up and realized that there was a REASON that the dusty book was on the floor.

And here we have my kitchen.

I have all the essentials, toaster oven, rice cooker, blender, fridge, "stove" and the thing that looks like a microwave is actually an oven.

Look closely, and maybe you'll see a photo of yourself on my fridge. If you don't, perhaps you should send me one so I can put it there.

That's right.
Four separate trash areas
(one of which is later sorted into three different types).
Please look at how nicely sorted and neatly bound all my paper trash is. Do I know how to dispose of waste or what?

And what kitchen would be complete without a washing machine?

Go ahead, take a peek inside.
I know you want to.

No handy dandy turning thing!
It's a miracle that my clothes ever get clean.

Last, but not least, we have the bathroom(s).

The shower is a room all in itself, but I don't treat it that way.
I still shower the "western" way (Standing in the bathtub, rather than in the middle of the shower room.)

Some of you may be disappointed to discover, that my toilet is totally normal. That is, except for the fact that it has a sink coming out of the top of it. I think you're supposed to wash your hands in it when you're done (When you flush the toilet, water automatically begins coming out of the little spout.) But, if you ask me, washing your hands in toilet water kind of defeats the purpose.

Thanks for stopping by,
feel free to visit any time.
We all know that I have room for at least four extra people,
and that's just in that bed of mine.

First Day of School

2005-09-01T17:59:00.000+09:00

You have no idea how nervous I was.

Off I go. . .

the results are in!

Operation "first day back at school" was a big success. It feels good to be "working" again. Aside from the humidity, and feeling the sweat roll down my back while I was sitting at my desk. . . today was a good day.

two tiny stories

Story number one:
I'm no longer the "outsider" at Satte Shogyo (the school I work at Tuesdays and Thursdays). Now there's a new foreigner to pick on. Her name is Tsuto, and she's an exchange student from Taiwan. Her discomfort when she had to give a speech to all the teachers was all too familiar. Before she started, I watched as they began to notice her presence in the back of the room and saw them whispering (and laughing) to each other. I suppose it's a natural reaction to anything that is new. But still, I wanted to run over and shield her from the stares and tell her that everything was going to be OK. I talked to her later, and she seems to have handled her first day in school much better than I did last year. I don't think she cried once.

Story number two:
The Kocho Sensei (THE man in charge) called my supervisor to tell him that he wanted to see me in his office. Uh, oh. . . right? My first thought was, "It's this skirt! I KNEW this skirt was inappropriate for work. . . but I could have sworn I wore it last year too. . . " I tugged and pulled at my skirt as I scurried over to Kocho Sensei's office. When I got there, he asked me to sit down. So, I did, trying really hard to sit like a lady and seem calm, cool and collected.
The first thing he had to say to me was, "Thank you very much for the chocolate. (I had brought chocolate back from the States for all the teachers.) I enjoyed it very much, and now it is in my stomach."
It turns out that he just wanted to have a pleasant conversation about my vacation. He was also concerned that my family was OK, because of the hurricane. This is not the first, nor the last time I was asked this question today. In fact, every Japanese person I talked to today asked me if my family was OK.

in three words:

I love Japan.

(again)