My god. Nothing like reading an entire novel and come away feeling as if you've read absolutely nothing of substance whatsoever. DeLillo's Mao II comes off as a self-fellating homage to nothing. The characters are immaterial and nothing really to seems to affect them. They move like ghosts through a variety of scenes that SHOULD be emotionally impacting but aren't - blunted by the character's own blaise reactions. Or maybe I'm just not smart enough to really "get it."

This is the first time in a great while that I've actually felt like updating LiveJournal. But, then again, I only really want to when I feel that things are sort of going my way, or that change is imminent. Wallowing in self-pity isn't really my style, though don't let that fool you; I've got plenty of self-pity to go around, I just don't reserve it for blogging material usually. Well, let's get right into it then.

An update from Otakon: Thank you people who tolerated my nonsense and my ridiculous costume. I had great fun and great foot pain, and it was completely worth it. Yay for getting a judge's award, and double yay for all the people who said something nice to me, and gave me a much needed boost of confidence.

I'll be graduating from AACC this fall, with just enough credits and all of my transfer requirements for University of Maryland: College Park's Japanese Language and Literature program completed, save for Intermediate Japanese 1 and 2. I've been thinking about taking them next spring and summer at College Park, and, if I can, take up tutoring at AACC and get involved in Japanese club once my schedule allows. My upcoming fall schedule actually might permit me to make it to the club meetings and I hope it does. I want to continue to be involved in Japanese studies before I start at College Park, and, I want some tutoring and club activity to help me look better when they're considering scholarship applications. Boy, do I need scholarships.

Spent the summer taking some drawing classes to fill up my electives and satiate my curiosity as to how much ass I suck. And, if I'm being completely honest, to help satisfy some childish notions I had entertained about going to art school when I was younger. I think it's fair to say that even though I'll never be an artist, I am actually quite good at capturing the human figure, and can do pretty accurate portrait sketches. I'm not too bad when it comes to drawing still life either. I think I'll always be shit at emulating manga or anime style art, and I have pretty horrible instinct when it comes to colour, but I'm developing my own comic-y drawing shorthand style for when I'm planning out costumes and outfits to sew, and it's really not that bad.

Speaking of outfits, I'm currently in the process of adding to my wardrobe via my sewing machine. I bought some fantastic fabric and am going to make 3 new skirts. I need to buy more stockings and some plain hoodies to decorate, and also get back into making t-shirt prints. I've had a few ideas for some cute prints and hope to get some of this done before the fall semester begins. Fat chance, though.

I also had some really cute ideas for pillows that I think would be a big hit with "Japanophiles" like myself. They're cute but also really functional and I can't wait to try to make them.

Aside from tutoring and working part time, I've been trying to think of ways to make money next spring and summer, because once I start at University full time, I won't have time to work anymore. I want to make money and save up so I have some spending money to last me through the fall and spring semester next year. I was thinking of maybe trying to sell my pillows online but I don't know if my meager abilities could allow me to actually make enough of them so that I'd actually see a profit. Who knows, though. Any suggestions on flexible, short-time work that pays exhorbitant amounts of cash are welcome.

Which brings me to another point: I can't wait to start at College Park, and get back to living on my own and relying on my own abilities. Of course, it will be paid for with borrowed money from student loans, but, I'm determined to perform with stellar results at University, and earn my living to pay the loans back on my own. I've felt useless, and ineffective for a long while now, and with graduation only a semester away, I'm finally feeling like I'm getting some traction, and have actually started moving forward. I hope my plans for University work out; be sure that I'll be doing my goddamnedest to see that they do.

It's a difficult balance, to have patience but also a tenacious drive, to have stamina but also be able to relegate and prioritize how you spend your energy. To be brave, and unafraid of failure, but with a mindset that allows you work as if failure is impossible, and yet a strong heart to accept when failures occur, and keep trying,twice as hard, despite them. I really haven't achieved that balance, so I'll stop pretending that I know any damn' thing about what I'm saying here. I'm gonna keep working hard, and I hope you guys are too. がんばります!!

Otakon approaches. Preview my insane costume here.

Oh my fucking god, spring semester's over and I feel like I can finally breathe. I'm not ashamed to say it: I've got another 4.0 for the semester going for me this time, although I've never had to work harder in my life to get it before. I'm just not used to doing my best and not consistently getting perfect or near-perfect results. I'm sure such sentiments inspire a lot sympathy and pity for me. "Oh you performed perfectly again, except you actually had to work hard for it, POOR YOU." All I have to say is that it really is a struggle, when you're not at all used to killing yourself for an A. Furthermore, I'm SO GLAD I don't have to feel guilty for being smart anymore. I love taking classes with friends/former classmates, but I'd forgotten why I also HATE taking classes with people I know. Even if its unspoken, you always feel like you're being judged and discriminated against. Compliments on your efforts sound more like cynical observations. Maybe I'm being paranoid, but I don't think so. Despite having a such a small emotional vocabulary, I know what it means when someone compliments you but their face looks frozen or their eyes look blank. They really don't give a shit about the effort you put in, they're just angry that they didn't do as well. It really is a two-way street. No matter how you do, there's someone out there trying to make you feel like shit for your efforts. In any case, I say FUCK EM.

I was inducted into Phi Theta Kappa for my grades and was on the Honors List again this semester. I'd like to say I was really proud of myself, but at this point it's more like par for the course. It's not like I'm surprised or anything, lol.

I'm taking a drawing class and an advanced literature class this summer. Lit hasn't started yet, but so far I'm having a pretty good time in drawing, and once again remembered that if I can see something, I can make a pretty damn good replica of it. I'm actually good at drawing if I let myself. I might never make a good cartoon, comic, or fanart, but I can draw a lot of shit sitting in front of me, pretty realistically. I should give myself credit for that much at least. Although my days are really exhausting lately. I go to class, which is a bit longer than 3 hours, and then go to work right after. Plus my class starts very early in the morning. I feel a litle dead lately.

Let's learn Cellular Respiration!


PS: I don't want to give away the ending, but after Kreb's Cycle our little NADH come back and Oxidative Phosphorylation begins <3

Feeling kind of stressed. Solution: Get a crazy haircut and spend my entire paycheck in less than 4 hours. Yeah!

For the record, I think this is the first time in history where I was certain I could not possibly get an A in an academic course no matter how hard I tried. My biology class is truly impossible. I sort of feel like sobbing just thinking about it. :O

I dr-dr-dr-dropped my creative writing course. I don't think I'm gonna even do that at again, at least not at community college, as bad as that stereotype is.

Sigh. I have to study.

Blowing 50 dollars on a haircut, by the way, didn't really lessen my stress or genuinely make me feel better about myself. But I do think it looks a lot better than it used to. I actually look like I'm in my twenties, lawl. Also, I've learned that I can't look unassuming, cute or sweet for pictures with the features and colouring I have. Everytime I tried a sweet smile, I just looked like I was smirking arrogantly or not smiling at all. Now I know why people my age seem to have such a problem approaching me. But I can't say that I mind that.

I think the best words to describe my feelings lately would be intense. Then again, I have a hard time not feeling strongly about things. I really want more time to myself to pursue personal exploration and to discover hidden talents. And I know I'm spoiled fucking rotten when I have the luxury to toss shit like that around. Cheers.

New semester, new classes, new aggravations. I hate being in classes that I have to try in, haw haw. But seriously, I'm so used to just sort of gliding through classes with minimal effort and still getting good grades. This semester 3 of the 5 classes I'm in require a lot of time and effort and I haven't figured out how to deal with it. I'm in Biology, Biology Lab, Japanese 4, Creative Writing, and College Algebra. Guess which classes I can just about mentally shut down in? If you guessed Japanese 4 and Creative Writing, you'd be half wrong. I can actually just sort of tune out in Lab. It's scarily easy, and yet Biology itself confounds me a bit. Mostly the chemistry part we're doing right now. :/

I thought Creative Writing would be a lot easier. Let me rephrase; it's not that the work or assignments are difficult, it's the outright irritation and hostility that it makes me feel that is hard to swallow. Not trying to sound superior or anything here, but, most of the jackasses in my class don't know how to write a review or offer solid constructive criticism, and even the teacher doesn't review or respond to everyone's work. She was like "Read my comments to other students, and try to apply them to your personal work." That would be all well and dandy, but the only reviews people give me - if I get any at all (which I usually don't because I'm not interested in writing self-aggrandizing or emo or CHOU-RABU-RABU crap) - read like this: "Wow that sure is a lot details there, hurhur." I really, really, really, hate this class. I would have dropped it, but that Letter of Recognition for completing the short Creative Writing circuit of classes was too tempting.

Let's not talk about Math. It's weird because it's simultaneously hard but not hard.

On a different note, I'm now working in the Financial Aid office a few days a week doing data entry and stuffing envelopes. It's a nice job, and I got a raise :3

I've also taken up flower arranging as a hobby. Go ahead and laugh, I know I've crossed the void into total queerdom awesomeness.

And enjoy this link.

Yeah OK. I forget this shit exists for the most part. The rest of the time, I just don't care because I'm too busy. As it happens, this weekend I caught a super flu bug from Emergency when I took my mom to the hospital, twice. I'm freaking miserable, and really alone. So at times like this, when you've perused the ENTIRE internet, read as much of your latest favourite comics and books as you can stand [I have issues with finishing things like that - more or less, I don't want them to end, and I don't frequently have a strong desire for resolutions.], watched as much television as you can handle [Sort of the same deal. I don't tend to watch actual TV, but I have the latest episodes of CSI here, and I don't want to spend them all in one place, so to speak], and played your brand new videogame to the point of nearly playing it out, all that's really left is talking to yourself in a completely self-centric, ego-stroking public forum.

It might be different if I had an interesting story about my personal day-to-day adventures to tell, but alas, the only adventures I've had this weekend involve vanquishing snot and phlegm.

That aside, I've completely forsaken studying this weekend. I feel a certain amount of guilt over it. I have some math homework to do, and I have the JLPT coming up in December to study for. I swear, it seems like every fucking time I think I've got it all down, I find some other "study aid" for the test that has mountains of shit I've never even seen before on it. Hey there we go, getting angry and frustrated therefore noticing flu less. Let's keep going like this. After all the classes, extra studying, and specialized instruction I've gotten in Japanese, you'd think I'd be able to pass this one fucking test. Apparently not. I wonder if I'm just stupid sometimes, or not as skilled as I confidently insist I am. It kind of makes you feel like shit, knowing you're practically dedicating your life to something, yet study materials for the easiest level of the proficiency test seem out of reach. Sometimes, I can listen to movie or drama dialogue, or read a comic, and everything makes sense. I can sit there and translate 80% of what's being said without any help, and I'm not talking about baby words or anything here. But other times, in sentences as simple as "The umbrella is up" I'm like "What the fuck is this, Cantonese?" I guess all this aggression translates to "I'm disappointed in myself," though I don't really see a reason why. I'm trying my hardest but it seems like that just isn't enough. I feel like I'm the only one I know who goes through crap like this. Being so intently singleminded about things yet still somehow missing the point. Ah, balls.

~~~~~~~
Went and took a shower there. Thought I might feel better but actually feel worse. Extremely lightheaded. Dammit I hate being sick. I hate feeling unproductive. This sucks. I had so much shit I wanted to have done by now this weekend and all I've done is lay around in bed staring at Snow Crash, buttsecks manga, FFXII and crime dramas. My own brother forgot I was even sick, if that isn't a kick in the teeth. So I've pretty much just spent the past two days completely by myself. No one even offered to make me anything to eat, although, cheers to my dad for sharing half his milkshake with me, and getting me a sandwich from Subway tonight. Am I being petulant? I don't know. I guess I'm annoyed because I wouldn't do any less for anyone else around here. I made them all dinner last night even though I'm sick. I hope they get my AIDS :(

Haven’t updated in awhile. I’d like to blame it entirely on simply not having enough time, but then I recall times when I’ve been downstairs playing cards with people, or watching awful TV dramas, and the cold reality that I’m just too damn lazy for my own good sets in. I’ve seen and done some really cool stuff and I have a lot to talk about, but it’s difficult to have the energy to recount weeks of experiences when I honestly don’t have much time in the day to get it all down. Let me try to “summarize.”

Went to Kyoto weekend before last with Alex the Third, to get an early start on Hanami [Cherry Blossom Viewing] and to get a little taste of old Japan. If I had to use any small phrase to describe our experience in Kyoto, I’d have to say that “Lucky Accident” fits it nicely. We left fairly early from Okazaki, backpacks stuffed full to bursting, and cameras in tow. We took the local train to Nagoya, and had planned on taking the regular rapid train to Kyoto to save money. For the amount of money, time, and trouble the regular train route turned out to be, we dedided it would be better just to pay a little extra, and travel in style. We took the Shinkansen [bullet train], which is a beautifully smooth and comfortable ride, and upon disembarking from the train, we were greeted by many maiko [dancing girls/apprentice geisha] handing out tissues advertising their dance house. It just so happened that the weekend we went, the first weekend in April, is a big deal for maiko. We had no idea. So I took a photo. There were probably 8 maiko in total at the station from the same dance house. Apparently, it’s really rare to get to see maiko just standing around in a public place so I’m really happy that our luck was so good. As we made our way out of the station, looking for the visitor’s office to get a map, we stumbled across a group of traditional Japanese musicians playing taiko, flutes, etc, before even making it to the door. We actually spent a good amount of time simply sightseeing at the station. Eventually we made it outside, but stopped for a few minutes out front to get our bearings. According to both the map in Alex’s book, and the visitor map outside of the station, the tourist office was located directly across the street in a huge building that had a Japanese market inside. We decided to browse the market first before looking for the visitor’s office. Many of the shops were just tourist trap shops, but several had beautiful things there. I only bought one souvenier from Kyoto, and I bought it from one of the little shops at this market. :x We wandered around the building, and found a bookstore on the third floor. While there, I bought a stack of postcards for everyone. I tried to pick postcards with scenes of Kyoto to appeal to everyone’s individual tastes. (I started writing notes on the postcards but haven’t actually finished yet.) I also bought a manga because it was cheap. We inquired here about the visitor’s center, and were told that it was at the station. With no small amount of confusion, we left the building, looked around, and tried going around to the other side of the building. We found a shopping mall here, and the first floor was a GAP. Again, we asked if the Visitor’s Center was in the building, and again, were looked at like we were crazy, and told to try the station. We returned to the station warily, examining both the station map, and Alex’s guide book once again, and sure enough, both maps still indicated that the visitor’s center was across the street. We wandered into the station, and shortly found signs directing us to the visitor’s center, where we finally picked up our map that we ended up never really using. At the visitor’s center, we observed signs that read “ALL HOTELS SOLD OUT” with no small amount of apprehension. We never made reservations. We stayed up the night before, looking at train fares on the internet and such, fully intending to make hotel arrangements while we were at it, and both of us completely forgot. We hurried over the public phones, and called the hotel we had intended on staying at. They were completely booked, however, I asked if they had another recommendation. She gave us the number of another nearby hotel, which I called next, and thankfully they had rooms. We booked a room with no small sense of relief, then shortly left the station to return to the Marketplace across the street because by this time we were starving. We found a “French” bread shop on the second floor, and bought some sandwich pizza things and some dessert. One more time, we returned to the train station, this time to sit at at a café, drinking juice and scarfing down bread. After lunch, our exploration of Kyoto officially started.

I’ve been working on writing this for some time now, adding a few sentences everyday. I’ll continue my story over the coming few days, hopefully more regularly.

Ah man. Kept saying to myself "Gotta make a blog entry soon... Maybe tomorrow..." and before I knew it, a little over two weeks had passed. I have more video blog to post, but I haven't cut and timed the video together yet, even though I shot it two weekends ago. I will definitely do it this weekend. [Maybe.]

A lot has happened. Wish I took more photographs. In two weeks, my class has changed twice. I currently have the highest test scores in the class, although it has definitely been taking a toll on me. My sinus infection got the best of me, and I stayed home from school three days last week. I just couldn't even get out of bed. Finally, last weekend, I asked my friend to help me find some medicine at the drug store. We found some, but 20 capsules cost 20 dollars. My stomach crawled. I had to borrow money from him to afford it at the time, because since getting really sick, I hadn't trekked to the post office to make another withdrawl. I am so tired lately. I barely feel human. Just go to school, come home to the dorm. Rinse. Repeat. Thankfully, because of a holiday, we have a three day weekend. I have no plans for the weekend besides sleeping and pissing around with my friends before they leave. Two friends are leaving at the end of next week, so this is the last weekend that we'll have any time to mess around together. I'm actually pretty sad. I think studying here is the hardest thing I've ever done that I've actually also been successful at. It takes all of my energy, but in return I'm doing very well. I'm still shocked that despite taking three days off, I still had the highest score in the class. I honestly expected that I bombed the speaking portion. I was so tired and muddy-headed during the test. Turns out, almost everything I said was correct, just said VERRRRRRY slowly. Haha. My teacher made my a graph of my abilities. A perfect score in all abilities makes a 5 even-sided polygon shape. Mine looks more like a boomerang. The speaking speed part was concaved.



Speaking, reading, writing, and listening comprehension are all the best. But my processing/speaking speed is the absolute slowest. I don't know if this is really good or bad. I'd like to improve, and aim for a more balanced share of strengths and abilities. However, I think if I didn't take my time and really think about it, just went with the flow to get better marks in speed, that all of my other sections would fall. Poor speed scores don't prevent you from advancing to the next class level. The other sections are the ones that really matter. My head-teacher really pressured me to bring up my speaking speed though. I'll try, but not to the point that I'll endanger my other scores.

I helped throw a party for my friend Alex's birthday yesterday. [Not the same Alex as in the pictures/as mentioned before. There are 4 in total at the dorm, 3 of which are from Britain, and I'm friends with all of them. In this, I'm referring to Alex Senior. {There is also Alex Junior, Alex the Third (who appears in photographs in earlier blogs), and All American Alex}] That was also very tiring. I stayed up very late Wednesday night making him a strawberry and chocolate cheesecake. [Then took my test, first thing Thursday morning! x_x] The cake was a little small, but looked really good, and was a big hit. Someone asked me if I make them professionally. Embarrassing but flattering. I decorated the cafe with help, and made a banner, and everything. Also made snacks, and a bunch of people chipped in for pizza. Then someone went for a beer run. I didn't partake of any, but it was still fun hanging out talking with everyone as I nursed a frosty glass of Aquarius [sports drink]. A lot of people came for Alex's birthday, and he was genuinely surprised and appreciated all the efforts. He said he had an absolutely great birthday, and I was glad. I kept making a big deal out of it, and that seemed to bring everyone up into the spirit of making it a big deal for him. Before I even left for Japan, I thought about how lonely I was going to be on my birthday without any of my close friends or family around, so I absolutely didn't want someone else to feel like that. It was good, but as a result, I kind of feel like a zombie now. Haha.

My basic feeling about my stay here is that there simply aren't enough hours in the day to do what I need to do. I barely get enough sleep as it is, but still need more hours to study, and more hours to unwind. I think there should be a lobby for 30 hour days.

It’s been two weeks since I’ve been in Japan. On the one hand, it feels like it’s flown by, and in another way, it feels like it’s been much longer. It seems like I’ve seen and done a lot but, really, I’ve hardly done anything. Simple tasks like going to grocery store are like adventures, and checking out a mall is an exciting excursion. Everyday things seem to mean much more when you only understand half their meaning. I’m working hard at school. In my class, there’s only one other student. He’s more than 10 years my senior though, and we don’t share any common interests, so I don’t really feel like I have much in common with him. He’s been very nice to me, I just don’t feel any kind of connection, so sometimes class is a little bit boring. He probably thinks the same of me. Also, he does his job after class from his computer, doing distance working. He seems busy all the time, so I don’t really feel comfortable asking him if he wants to study. Basically: I feel a little lonely in class, to the point that I want to test again and move up another level. Eh. I hate studying alone.

I hope you guys enjoyed my first video from Japan. Sorry about the camera work, and crappy timing/cutting. I’ll try harder next time.

Stayed home from school today :/ I woke up and I had a load of snot and blood running from my nose. So went back to bed. I'm okay now though. I think maybe it was just the last punch from the sinus infection I've been fighting since before I left Maryland. Well, I hope it was the last punch, anyway. Not much blog today. Instead, you get a 12 minute long video, straight from Japan!

Click here.

I'll have this up for streaming video sometime soon if you don't want to download it. I submitted it to GoogleVideo and it's still awaiting approval.

I was going to write more, but me, Alex, and Carolyn made dinner and then ate it together with Ryan and then the three of us [me + Alex + Carolyn] sat around gabbing for hours, came up to my room to watch a movie, and then sat around gabbing even more. Then had a snack. And here it is 2 AM. No blog tonight, but here’s some pictures of Alex and Carolyn taken this evening. I’m extremely adept at catching silly looking faces I think.

Since I’m not doing anything but eating a chicken onigiri and drinking some Aquarius, I figured I should continue. Maybe I’ll be caught up before the week is out.

The trip from Nagoya to Okazaki by car took a little bit longer than I expected. It’s a bit farther than I had imagined, but still not very far. Altogether it took about 55 minutes to reach the building where I’m staying, the Yamasa Student Village. When I arrived I had no idea what to expect. I was greeted at the door by the house father, Niwa-san, and a current Yamasa student, Avier-san. The faculty member who had given me a ride [I’ve just recalled that his name is Uchida-san] helped me with my bags. I accidentally left a bag and my passport in the car, but fortunately remembered before he drove away. When I was taken up to my room, Niwa-san opened the door and my heart sank. It was tiny, which I expected, but I had no toilet, no kitchen, and no television. I imagined showering with a group of people I didn’t know, and tasted bile. As adventurous as I like to think I am, I don’t think I could ever be quite that adventurous. I know it’s a cultural difference, but it’s a hurdle I don’t want to cross just yet. I’ve never even used the gym showers at school, and those were semi-private. My mind was still spinning, I was absolutely filthy, and starving to boot, when Avier-san told me that he’d give me a tour. I wanted a tour, but mostly I wanted to shower in private, find something to eat, and go to sleep. I feel like I made a fool of myself in front of Niwa-san and Avier-san because I suddenly couldn’t remember any Japanese, however, I could understand what they were saying pretty much fine. I overheard Avier-san tell Niwa-san that I spoke and understood no Japanese, which would have annoyed me if I was awake enough to bother about being annoyed. Admittedly, I’m an absolute novice, but I’m not a total moron, and I could at least understand that much. I dropped my bags in my room, and Avier-san immediately began the tour. I felt like a show animal on display. Everywhere we went, students stopped and stared. Hey, look at the filthy American! What’s she doing out of her cage, and can she do any interesting tricks? My embarrassment and shame grew with every room we visited, although, I am extremely grateful to Avier-san for stopping everything to show me around. On the tour, I discovered that the showers were private, and felt a palpable wave of relief. No one would have to look at my pasty ass, and I wouldn’t have to see anyone else’s. …Hooray! The kitchen horrified me at first, but all in all, after using it once or twice, it’s really not all that bad. It’s just in a constant state of getting messed up versus getting cleaned up. A continual process, it’s never completely one or the other. After the tour Avier-san told me that if I could be up and ready by 7AM sharp, that he would show me how to get to school. I owe Avier-san a lot for doing this, because his directions and the landmarks he pointed out have saved me from getting lost in Okazaki more than once. After Avier-san left, I quickly threw open my bags just long enough to get my soap and shampoo out and fairly ran to the shower. I was mostly undressed when I realized that I forgot to bring a change of clothes, a towel, and a wash rag. One more getting dressed, running down the hall, and disrobing again moment later I was in the shower and in heaven. The temperature gets nice and hot, the water pressure is strong enough to be a massage, and the shower head detaches so you can focus it anywhere you have a kink or sore muscle. My legs, back, and arms ached so badly and I hadn’t entered the shower room with any expectations whatsoever. When I stepped under the spray, and let the piping hot water beat against my shoulders, I may as well have been in Disneyland. After just sitting under the spray for awhile, my brain started to defrost and I remembered that I needed to call my dad and hadn’t asked how to use the phone. I quickly finished up my shower, changed from the pyjamas I had put on and back into street clothes, and rushed out to the MiniStop 24-hour konbini just out front of the Student Village. When I walked in, all I knew how to ask was “Do you have telephone cards?” The girl replied that they did, and got out a whole notebook worth. I alternately stared at her and the book blankly, and fortunately she understood, and began asking questions in quasi-English. “Intaanashanaa?” Yes! Yes, I wanted an international card. Then she asked another question, basically along the lines of which one. I had no idea which kind I needed or would be best. She pointed to one, so I agreed, and got out 3000 yen. The one she pointed to was 1000 yen, so she thought I had changed my mind, and wanted the 3000 yen card after all. In the end, I got a 3000 yen phone card that I’ve yet to find a use for. It was the wrong kind. I couldn’t use it in my room, and I couldn’t call my family to let them know I was alive. Then, I got the bright idea that I should try my computer. If I couldn’t call them, I could at least e-mail them. When I got back to my room, I hooked everything up, plugged in the internet cable, and watched expectantly as nothing happened. I couldn’t connect to the internet, and I couldn’t figure out why, and there was no one to ask what to do. At this point, it was almost midnight. After all of that, I decided to get everything unpacked and just go to bed. I could deal with Japan tomorrow.

Still playing ketchup.

I clumsily dragged my things to customs and was instructed in Japanese to fill out a small form. The form had two halves, a small left side and a larger right side. One half labeled Embarkment, and one half labeled Disembarkment. I stared blindly at these two words as if they were written in Atlantean. As exhausted and shocked as I was I couldn’t remember which word meant staying and which word meant going. So filled out one form on the left and one on the right while I pondered the meaning of the word Embarkment. After filling out both papers and staring at them confusedly for awhile, the words suddenly began to take on meaning, and I finally understood that I was supposed to turn in the paper that had the Disembarkment half filled out. It seems ridiculous now, but the state of my mind that evening, and really, for everyday save for this afternoon, has been basically Out to Lunch. It’s as if nothing has made sense to me, try as I might to understand. Someone was holding a sign that “Desirie” near the customs desk, and I almost approached them. At the last minute, I realized that that was a town name, or something, for a connecting flight, and a stewardess was holding the sign to help passengers find their next flight. Luggage customs and security was uneventful, although it seemed like it took a long time. I spent a great deal of time standing idly and watching other people go through the motions half a dozen times before I felt confident enough to make a motion myself. Although the luggage customs were very much dead and there were plenty of security aisles available, I felt numb, and vaguely confused. I spent probably 20 minutes just standing around, watching other people collect their bags and walk through security. In a really distant way, I was terrified that my bags would be searched and found unacceptable, and all of my belongings would be seized. After going through hell with my bags all day, who would blame me? To go through all of that trouble just to get them to Japan, and have them seized not even 30 minutes after my plane landed. I was hesistant to say the least. Finally I approached the security guard who only asked for my passport, then waved me through. He didn’t swab, x-ray, steal, or question me. The relief and happiness on my face must have shown, because he smiled and gestured to the exit. Right out in front of the doors where I exited from, there was someone from Yamasa waiting for me, holding a Yamasa folder, and he recognized my face as soon as he saw me. I was relieved he was there waiting, and also that he recognized me, but also somewhat chagrined. I arrived in Japan looking like I’d been through the ringer a few times, shaken out, thrown in the dirt and stomped on vigourously for good measure. In light of that, I almost hoped I WOULDN’T be recognized. I wish I could remember the name of the Yamasa faculty member that came to pick me up. In any case he was very kind to me, even though I think I might’ve seemed a little rude. I was trying very hard to be polite but I could hardly remember my own name, let alone much polite language. As it was, he didn’t seem to mind, and was content to let me sit quietly in the backseat and gaze out the window as we travelled from Nagoya to Okazaki. I saw a lot of things that caught my eye: cheesy love-hotels, night clubs, and towering apartment buildings, but I don’t really remember much about them. The only thing I can see clearly in my mind from that trip is the enormous Ferris Wheel that we passed. It was visable from the highway for miles, and at one point, it seemed like the highway would go straight through it, but the road curved suddenly in front of it. I’m pretty positive that this huge Ferris Wheel was only for show, built only for the purpose of advertising some company or service but I didn’t catch what. The immediate impression I had was how similar it looked to the Wonder Wheel in The Warriors, which brought back potent memories spent with Chris and my brother. I cried quietly for several minutes, and watched Nagoya disappear through tears.

Sorry this is so late, I've been a few days without the internet and without any spare time. I'm working on writing everything that's happened so far. Here's the first part. It's long. Expect all of my entries to be something like this.


As we travelled to BWI airport, my father driving my van, my mother in the passenger seat, myself and my brother in the back, the mood seemed strange to me. My father seemed tense, my brother, sullen, and I couldn’t read my mother at all. It seemed like she was trying to be cheerful, perhaps. Maybe she actually was, hahaha. We arrived at the airport and after checking in my two suitcases [each of which got a bright orange “HEAVY – GET HELP TO LIFT” tag strapped around the handle] we were greeted with a line that extended all the way to the end of the airport. Because of the previous day’s snowfall (some had called it a blizzard) many flights were cancelled and rescheduled for the following morning. We quickly got in line, snagging a luggage cart for my carry-on bags and computer tower. Normally you’re supposed to pay 5 dollars for use of the cart, but we found one stranded inbetween red velvet rope barriers that led up to the check-in counter for Delta Airlines. It was about 7:00AM at this point, and we were lucky that we got in line when we did. Within another 15 minutes, the line had looped around, and had extended to the opposite side of the airport lobby. There were at least 700 people in line, all waiting to go through the same security checkpoint. Strangely enough the line moved relatively quickly and in a matter of twenty minutes or so I was saying goodbye to my family. I was somehow disappointed that the last few minutes I got to spend with them was in front of an airport checkpoint with dozens of people around. I hate that family members aren’t allowed to see you off any longer. I can’t think of a single incident where families bidding each other farewell and bon voyage has led to a terrorist attack, but we’re all criminals apparently. I proceeded to the security check point and was told that my computer was safe to X-ray which confused me but apparently it’s true – it was put through the X-ray no less than 3 times, as well as all of my other carry-on items. On my first trip through the check point, I was directed to the security table because they wanted to swab my computer and my LCD monitor with alcohol, and rifle through my bags. I don’t know for sure what the reasoning behind this is, but apparently it was Very Important. The people going through my stuff were two guys, about 10 years older than me, named Tom and Thurwood. Tom growled accusingly at me, “WHY DIDN’T YOU CHECK SOME OF THIS?” I looked him in the eye and said patiently, “Because my airline doesn’t accept responsibility for damaged electronics that are checked, and recommends that I carry them on.” He growled, glared, and sighed at me again, as if I was created solely for his annoyance. Thurwood kept saying, over and over again “I KNEW I should’ve called out today. I KNEW I should’ve stayed home.” He said this phrase no less than 4 times while he bore the harrowing task of wiping a cloth over my computer. I know it must’ve been hard on him, that cloth must’ve weighed an entire ounce! How dare he have to do his job. Apparently he felt that he needed some compensation for this difficult task, because he stole my Mp3 player. After Tom and Thurwood haphazardly threw my things back into my bag, and thrust my computer and dismantled carrying case for it into my hands, I had to spend at least 15 minutes packing it all back up neatly. I noticed that it was gone, and went directly to the officer who was sitting nearby. His name was Officer Serrano, and he was nice but he had a tendancy to stand too close and wink at me which made me somewhat uncomfortable. He was probably my father’s age. When Thurwood saw me talking to the Officer, he disappeared. I know it was him who took it. Serrano got help from another Airport security man whose name I sadly can’t remember. I think his name started with a B. For the sake of storytelling, I’m going to call him Bruce. Bruce was very helpful and sympathetic. Everyone believed that Thurwood was the one who stole it, and they all assured me that when they checked the security cameras and affirmed this, that he would lose his job, be arrested, and sent to jail. I didn’t know how I felt about that. I wanted him to be punished, but I thought the punishment was a bit extreme. I didn’t want him to ruin his life over a stupid impulse that he had. I expressed as much to Officer Serrano who said “Yeah, it might’ve just been an impulse, but if he did it once, then he’ll probably do it again.” I couldn’t really argue with that. If Thurwood had just given it back to me, and said “I found this on the floor” I wouldn’t have filed a police report. I would have just said “Thank you” and minded my own business. In the end, it’s his fault for not owning up to his mistake, for running away like a coward instead of doing the right thing. Serrano and Bruce called out Debbie, who mans the security cameras. It was then that we learned that although the security cameras were recording and operational, the display monitors were down. They would have to call an IT person. Could I wait and catch another flight, they asked. There was no way that I could do that. So I’m waiting and waiting, giving my information and my account of the incident in 3 different ways and then finally am released to board my flight with only 15 minutes to spare. As I’m boarding, I was stopped and told I had too much baggage. I gave the puppy dog eyes, and as a favour, the captain stowed my computer with his things, which was really cool. I sat down next to a woman who was very nice to me, also from Maryland, and had a son who also wanted to speak Japanese. I wish I could remember her name. I think it starts with an M… In any case, I tried to be helpful and give her some Japanese language and culture resources that she could pass on to her son, but I don’t know how helpful I actually was. We arrived in Detroit without further incident, and it was in Detroit that I began to fall asleep on my feet. I had 3 hours to wait to board my next flight to Nagoya and my carryon bags were very heavy. I probably had to walk a quarter of a mile to my next boarding gate and about half of that without a cart in sight. Just like at BWI, I found another pay cart that had been abandoned and quickly absconded the rolling device. When I arrived at my gate it was pretty dead. Maybe only 2 or 3 families waiting. For some reason, I didn’t expect the flight to Nagoya to be very busy. I drifted in and out of consciousness. The last time I woke up, it was 30 minutes to boarding, and the gate was PACKED. Some flight security attendant for NWA was making an announcement about bags, saying that they were COMPLETELY booked, and that no exceptions to the 2 bag limit would be made. After he said his bit, I walked up to him, and asked if I could speak to him a moment. I explained my situation, and also also reminded him that North West Airlines recommends that you bring your electronics on board, because they don’t accept responsibility for damages to sensitive electronics that are in checked luggage. He became really irate, and was practically shouting at me, that he didn’t CARE what my situation was, the limit was two bags, and that if I wanted to take my computer [he called it my “third” bag] that I was saying that I wanted to deprive someone else from stowing their luggage. I was like “Whatever” and when the time came I dashed on board with my computer in tow, scooted over to my seat against the window, sat the computer on my feet, and covered it with the blanket they provided. When they came to check to see that luggage was stowed properly, they had no idea it was even there. Five hours later of having it digging into my knees, one of my neighbors in the seat near me finally got up, I asked the other one to move, and stored it overhead. Honestly, I think I could have stored two or maybe three computers up there. There was plenty of room. My immediate neighbour was a Japanese guy who had been studying at American Universities for 7 years to be a sociologist, with a focus on family sociology. He talked to me a good deal about video games and such and overall he was very pleasant, although he never told me his name, which I found kind of strange. If you spend 14 hours next to someone and talk to them for a great deal of that time, you think you’d at least mention your name? On the other hand, because he never volunteered his name, I was reticent with supplying mine. Maybe he was thinking the same thing. The flight seemed to last forever. My ass had cramps. I was glad I had the window, but it’s definitely a catch 22. On the one hand, you get to look out the window now and then and that certainly helped keep me from feeling claustrophobic and getting motion sickness. On the other, I only had the opportunity to get up and pee twice because at least one of my neighbours always seemed to be sleeping. Most of the flight occurred during daylight hours until we actually arrived in Japan airspace and dusk was settling in. The cloud cover was very heavy for most of the flight, and during the daylight hours for the most part there wasn’t anything particularly outstanding to photograph. Although, the clouds and the horizon while we were over Russia were really beautiful, and I did manage to take a picture. It was a long time before I could see anything else, however, as the plane flew over Japan, and the sun had just set, for a moment the clouds broke and the dark, snow dappled mountains of Hokkaido peeked through. I wanted to take a picture but my digital camera can’t photograph anything in the dark very well. We began the descent to Japan and half an hour later we broke through the clouds. It was dark out but I could just make out the white tops of waves in the ocean, breaking around some of the small islands that surround Japan’s main islands. Soon the runway was approaching, a mass of land paved in black, and covered in lights to mark runways and traffic lanes, but they were so numerous that I didn’t know how anyone could tell the difference between a runway or a parking area. Hundreds of blue, green, and red lights twinkled at me from below, rushing up to meet the plane. As I got off the plane, and began walking down the concourse, I looked through the window, and the runway seemed like a sea of stars. I had arrived. I was in Japan.

I'm excited. I can't wait. I can't believe how much of my Dad's money I've spent.


I finally finished my blog site, orangereel.org. I think it looks great, but empty. I plan on adding some photographs tonight or tomorrow, both of my bedroom which I'm sure I'll sorely miss, and of the incredible pile of crap I bought to prepare for three months in Japan, but the real content will come after I actually get there. I want to take pictures of my family and friends before I leave as well.