Oh man, you know how you sometimes find yourself blindly following links that people send you which then lead you to find disturbing things on the web that you know you don't want to look at but you manage to keep clicking on those evil links anyway? Kind of like how a dog will go back to sniff its own shit. It knows it'll smell bad but you know, gotta smell it twice to be sure (thanks, Shannon!). Well, I just spent the last 30 minutes looking at pictures of birth defects, people who've been eaten by sharks, terrorists beheading American hostages, and other nasty stuff like that. I'm so highly disturbed right now but at the same time, I have to admit that it was all really fascinating. Am I a sick, twisted person? No, I don't think so.
I think I'm going to go clean my apartment now and turn up some cheesy music otherwise I might not be able to sleep tonight.
child devil of tuna
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Monday, November 29, 2004
For the novelty value of the whole thing, I bring you 'Blogging with my Keitai' ('keitai' is Japanese for 'cell phone').
I spent Thanksgiving weekend with Ruth and Shannon in Kyoto (and this year, we managed to be RIGHT on time for the autumn leaves!) and being the lame asses that we are, we all managed to forget our cameras and had to depend on a crappy little disposable camera. However, we are all lucky enough to own Japanese cell phones which take amazing pictures. I have uploaded some of them here for your viewing pleasure. Since I had to email these pictures to my hotmail account using my phone, I was forced the compress them into low-quality JPEGs. I will figure out how to put the higher quality originals on my computer one of these days, using the crazy infrared data transfer thing that my phone can supposedly do.
So without further ado, I bring you Kyoto, as seen through my phone's camera lens:
The next photo was taken at the that Children's Halloween Party that I (unwillingly) volunteered for. Spiderman, Peter Pan, and Buzz Lightyear:
And then I was bored at school so I took a photo of my fingernail and here it is. I will have to take a read digicam pic to upload because this one just doesn't do it any justice. It's way more colorful in real life and you can see where my nail has severed itself from the rest of my finger. I know cuz I can't help but to pick at it and look at it every time I have a spare moment.
Currently reading: Richard Llewellyn - How Green Was My Valley
Currently playing: Eve6 - Without You Here
I spent Thanksgiving weekend with Ruth and Shannon in Kyoto (and this year, we managed to be RIGHT on time for the autumn leaves!) and being the lame asses that we are, we all managed to forget our cameras and had to depend on a crappy little disposable camera. However, we are all lucky enough to own Japanese cell phones which take amazing pictures. I have uploaded some of them here for your viewing pleasure. Since I had to email these pictures to my hotmail account using my phone, I was forced the compress them into low-quality JPEGs. I will figure out how to put the higher quality originals on my computer one of these days, using the crazy infrared data transfer thing that my phone can supposedly do.
So without further ado, I bring you Kyoto, as seen through my phone's camera lens:
The next photo was taken at the that Children's Halloween Party that I (unwillingly) volunteered for. Spiderman, Peter Pan, and Buzz Lightyear:
And then I was bored at school so I took a photo of my fingernail and here it is. I will have to take a read digicam pic to upload because this one just doesn't do it any justice. It's way more colorful in real life and you can see where my nail has severed itself from the rest of my finger. I know cuz I can't help but to pick at it and look at it every time I have a spare moment.
Currently reading: Richard Llewellyn - How Green Was My Valley
Currently playing: Eve6 - Without You Here
Saturday, November 20, 2004
After hours and hours of my time invested in the Great Shoe Search, I have come up with 4 potentials. They're nowhere near THE shoes (those exist on a higher plane, far above the reaches of this world), but these are nonetheless very good candidates in their own respects. Yes, they all have names. No, I didn't name them; I'm not that crazy.
A. Wesley
B. Hi-Maintenance
C. Pauline
D. Geena
My vote goes to B. But I might be biased, so help me pick one.
Currently reading: Roald Dahl - Someone Like You
Currently playing: Gwen Stefani - What You Waiting For
A. Wesley
B. Hi-Maintenance
C. Pauline
D. Geena
My vote goes to B. But I might be biased, so help me pick one.
Currently reading: Roald Dahl - Someone Like You
Currently playing: Gwen Stefani - What You Waiting For
Sunday, November 14, 2004
I am a girl, so please, allow me to have a moment with my shoes.
I love shoes. All kinds of shoes. I don't discriminate. I feel that like love for fellow human beings, love for shoes comes in many different sizes, shapes, and colors.
There's love for shoes like your comfiest pair of flip-flops, or your most reliable pair of sneakers, which is not unlike the love you have for your family or your closest friends. You rely on them daily, you NEED them, and even when you've blistered your poor feet wearing those flashy but fickle four-inch heels, you know you can always depend on your faithful shoes to provide comfort.
And as I mentioned, there are, of course, those super-hip cool shoes that beckon from enticing department store windows and displays. They tease you with their patent leather, shiny buckles, impossible heels, and to-die-for (no matter how impractical) colors. You know you shouldn't but you do and as soon as you wear them (now it's too late to return them), they reveal their true selves. They pinch your toes, give you blisters, and clash with every article of clothing you own. Bastards.
Then there are those shoes that are PERFECT. The kind of shoes you fall head over heels in love with. The kind that look amazing, make you feel amazing, and everyone else agrees that you make an unstoppable shoes-human duo. I have been in love like this exactly twice.
The first time was in high school. Red velvet Airwalks. They became my signature shoe. I still have them because I can't bring myself to throw them away. As you know, the first love is the one that sticks. The one that will never be forgotten.
It's been a long time since I've been in love. I was about to give up hope when it happened. Struck me like a thunderbolt when I was least suspecting it. There, in the vast underground shopping malls of Nagoya train station, I saw them. I was magnetically drawn to those metallic turquoise blue strappy stilletos. I tried them on and I KNEW that these were meant for my feet. They were the most beautiful pair of shoes I have ever seen and I felt this unshakeable desire to possess these remarkable shoes. Ruth shook me out of my reverie by pointing at the price tag: $130. I couldn't possibly bring myself to pay that kind of money, could I? I decided not to and I put them back.
Two full weeks later, I was still thinking about those shoes and I made up my mind that I had to go back and get them. I had no choice because otherwise, I would go insane and probably buy lots of ugly shoes to fill the void, a potentially dangerous path. I went back to Nagoya station and searched for hours, but could not find that shoe shop. As predicted, I settled for a mediocre pair of heels. My rebound shoes. Felt good at the time, but now I realize my mistake.
This all happened in May. Six months later, I still regret not buying those shoes. I should learn to listen to my gut instinct because I never found another pair like them, even after having looked through numerous shoe stores and about 10,000 pairs of strappy heels at Zappos.com. Not even close. They were one-of-a-kind, the most beautiful heels to have ever been sculpted from man-made materials. And I let them get away.
Currently playing: Tsunami Bomb - Swimming Through Molasses
Currently reading: Kathleen Demarco - Cranberry Queen
I love shoes. All kinds of shoes. I don't discriminate. I feel that like love for fellow human beings, love for shoes comes in many different sizes, shapes, and colors.
There's love for shoes like your comfiest pair of flip-flops, or your most reliable pair of sneakers, which is not unlike the love you have for your family or your closest friends. You rely on them daily, you NEED them, and even when you've blistered your poor feet wearing those flashy but fickle four-inch heels, you know you can always depend on your faithful shoes to provide comfort.
And as I mentioned, there are, of course, those super-hip cool shoes that beckon from enticing department store windows and displays. They tease you with their patent leather, shiny buckles, impossible heels, and to-die-for (no matter how impractical) colors. You know you shouldn't but you do and as soon as you wear them (now it's too late to return them), they reveal their true selves. They pinch your toes, give you blisters, and clash with every article of clothing you own. Bastards.
Then there are those shoes that are PERFECT. The kind of shoes you fall head over heels in love with. The kind that look amazing, make you feel amazing, and everyone else agrees that you make an unstoppable shoes-human duo. I have been in love like this exactly twice.
The first time was in high school. Red velvet Airwalks. They became my signature shoe. I still have them because I can't bring myself to throw them away. As you know, the first love is the one that sticks. The one that will never be forgotten.
It's been a long time since I've been in love. I was about to give up hope when it happened. Struck me like a thunderbolt when I was least suspecting it. There, in the vast underground shopping malls of Nagoya train station, I saw them. I was magnetically drawn to those metallic turquoise blue strappy stilletos. I tried them on and I KNEW that these were meant for my feet. They were the most beautiful pair of shoes I have ever seen and I felt this unshakeable desire to possess these remarkable shoes. Ruth shook me out of my reverie by pointing at the price tag: $130. I couldn't possibly bring myself to pay that kind of money, could I? I decided not to and I put them back.
Two full weeks later, I was still thinking about those shoes and I made up my mind that I had to go back and get them. I had no choice because otherwise, I would go insane and probably buy lots of ugly shoes to fill the void, a potentially dangerous path. I went back to Nagoya station and searched for hours, but could not find that shoe shop. As predicted, I settled for a mediocre pair of heels. My rebound shoes. Felt good at the time, but now I realize my mistake.
This all happened in May. Six months later, I still regret not buying those shoes. I should learn to listen to my gut instinct because I never found another pair like them, even after having looked through numerous shoe stores and about 10,000 pairs of strappy heels at Zappos.com. Not even close. They were one-of-a-kind, the most beautiful heels to have ever been sculpted from man-made materials. And I let them get away.
Currently playing: Tsunami Bomb - Swimming Through Molasses
Currently reading: Kathleen Demarco - Cranberry Queen
Thursday, November 11, 2004
I'm living in a country where the students are a bunch of ignorant pricks who can't keep their fuckin' mouths shut. Where they can get away with anything. Where they have zero respect for their teachers. Where I have to shout until I lose my voice to get the students to play a game. A GAME.
A country where the teachers I work with are incompetent and can't think for themselves. Where they don't do their jobs and expect me to pick up the slack for their lack of preparation. Where they don't communicate with me that they expect me to do EVERYTHING for a class without help until 2 minutes before that class starts.
This is a country where they pick me apart like some lab animal. Nearly every single day now for the last three weeks, SOMEONE just had to make a comment about what I'm eating for lunch. For crying out loud, I eat the same food as you. I shop in the SAME GROCERY STORE. Yes, I eat apples and rice and bread and fish and miso soup, and cabbage JUST LIKE YOU. I'm an American for Christ's sake. Not some fucking alien from another planet. America, another planet... I guess it's all the same to the people of this close-minded backwards country.
And to put the icing on the cake, it's a country where I can't do a goddamn thing about anything because that's just the way things are. As they say, "shigata ga nai" (Translation: It can't be helped).
Well, guess what? Things can be helped if they would get their collective heads out of their collective asses and take a good look around. Believe it or not, things aren't perfect in Japan and things can be changed for the better. They can start by just THINKING before saying something so completely stupid it makes my head hurt. Or by realizing that foreigners might have some useful advice and actually listening to what I have to say.
Sometimes, I really wonder what the hell I was thinking when I signed on for a second year.
A country where the teachers I work with are incompetent and can't think for themselves. Where they don't do their jobs and expect me to pick up the slack for their lack of preparation. Where they don't communicate with me that they expect me to do EVERYTHING for a class without help until 2 minutes before that class starts.
This is a country where they pick me apart like some lab animal. Nearly every single day now for the last three weeks, SOMEONE just had to make a comment about what I'm eating for lunch. For crying out loud, I eat the same food as you. I shop in the SAME GROCERY STORE. Yes, I eat apples and rice and bread and fish and miso soup, and cabbage JUST LIKE YOU. I'm an American for Christ's sake. Not some fucking alien from another planet. America, another planet... I guess it's all the same to the people of this close-minded backwards country.
And to put the icing on the cake, it's a country where I can't do a goddamn thing about anything because that's just the way things are. As they say, "shigata ga nai" (Translation: It can't be helped).
Well, guess what? Things can be helped if they would get their collective heads out of their collective asses and take a good look around. Believe it or not, things aren't perfect in Japan and things can be changed for the better. They can start by just THINKING before saying something so completely stupid it makes my head hurt. Or by realizing that foreigners might have some useful advice and actually listening to what I have to say.
Sometimes, I really wonder what the hell I was thinking when I signed on for a second year.
Monday, November 08, 2004
The topic for today: No matter how much I think I might blend into Japanese society, I still do several key things that make me stand out like a giraffe in a rice paddy.
Behavioral quirk #1: Apple-eating
I eat apples WHOLE. I don't peel them, nor do I cut them up into little bite-size chunks. I take big, unlady-like bites out of them. This apparently is of great interest to the Japanese, who are all slightly disgusted but at the same time highly intrigued. "Wow, you eat it like they do in movies..."
Behavioral quirk #2: Water-drinking
"What are you drinking?"
"It's water."
"Tea?"
"No, water."
"Oh, you mean mineral water?"
"No, just water."
"Soda water?"
"Nope, just plain boring water like the stuff that comes out of the tap and then you filter it with a Brita [moron]."
Behavioral quirk #3: Sandal-wearing
I wore flip-flops today because I just didn't feel like putting on socks and shoes and when I get to school, I have to wear indoor slippers anyway so what does it matter? Apparently, it matters a lot.
Behavioral quirk #4: Book-reading
Hardly any Japanese people read books and this surprises me because a lot of Japanese people spend hours commuting on trains. All they do is stare off into space (or at me because they're confused by my Asian face coupled with my weird behavioral quirks like this one) or stare at the cell phones and don't actually accomplish anything. The fact that I read a novel (not a comic book, GASP!) on my spare time is apparently a novel idea in this country.
Behavioral quirk #5: English-speaking
Yes, I speak English. Yes, I am Asian. Is that even possible?
"Blah blah blah" (that's me speaking ENGLISH)
"Why can you speak English?"
"Because I'm American."
"But why do you look Japanese?"
"Because my parents are from Korea."
"Oh, so you're Korean. But then why are you good at English?"
[suppress exhasperated sigh] "Because I'm American."
[head tilt to the side, look of confusion] "Eh?"
If I had a penny for every time I had that exact conversation (with foreigners in Japan as well; they can be just as ignorant) I could quit JET.
Because being of Asian descent is disadventageous to my American-ness, I made assumption that my brown eyes, black hair, and lack of nose would be advantageous with regrad to my Asian-ness. I cannot express to you just how wrong I was in that assumption. Which brings me to the next series of quirks.
Behavioral quirk #6: Sushi-eating
"You can eat sushi??!?"
"Yes, I like it."
"But you can't eat raw fish."
"Actually, I like raw fish, too."
[head tilt to the side, look of confusion] "Eh?"
Behavioral quirk #7: Chopstick-using
"You can use chopsticks??!?"
"Yes, I use them everyday at home."
"But you are American. Americans can't use chopsticks."
"That's not true. Many Americans can use chopsticks. Besides, my family is Korean. Believe it or not, Japan is not the only country in the world that uses chopsticks."
[head tilt to the side, look of confusion] "Eh?"
Behavioral quirk #8: Rice-eating
Cut and paste chopsticks dialogue. Replace "chopsticks" with "rice" and "use" with "eat." My ability to eat rice amazes them ("But, you're AMERICAN!") yet at the same time, so does the next quirk.
Behavioral quirk #9: Bread or sandwich-eating
"You're eating a sandwich!"
"Umm, yes, I am."
"But you're KOREAN!"
Someone shoot me or show me a place where I can eat in peace, where no one will comment on my rice, bread, apple, or water.
Conclusion: I'm fighting a war that can't be won. One where I am Korean when it's convenient for them and where I am American all of the other times. They have a really hard time grasping the fact that I am Korean and American. Even though I look Japanese, I really am a foreigner. And I still have to put up with 9 more months of this.
Currently reading: Ironically, nothing at the moment.
Currently playing: Veruca Salt - Forsythia
Behavioral quirk #1: Apple-eating
I eat apples WHOLE. I don't peel them, nor do I cut them up into little bite-size chunks. I take big, unlady-like bites out of them. This apparently is of great interest to the Japanese, who are all slightly disgusted but at the same time highly intrigued. "Wow, you eat it like they do in movies..."
Behavioral quirk #2: Water-drinking
"What are you drinking?"
"It's water."
"Tea?"
"No, water."
"Oh, you mean mineral water?"
"No, just water."
"Soda water?"
"Nope, just plain boring water like the stuff that comes out of the tap and then you filter it with a Brita [moron]."
Behavioral quirk #3: Sandal-wearing
I wore flip-flops today because I just didn't feel like putting on socks and shoes and when I get to school, I have to wear indoor slippers anyway so what does it matter? Apparently, it matters a lot.
Behavioral quirk #4: Book-reading
Hardly any Japanese people read books and this surprises me because a lot of Japanese people spend hours commuting on trains. All they do is stare off into space (or at me because they're confused by my Asian face coupled with my weird behavioral quirks like this one) or stare at the cell phones and don't actually accomplish anything. The fact that I read a novel (not a comic book, GASP!) on my spare time is apparently a novel idea in this country.
Behavioral quirk #5: English-speaking
Yes, I speak English. Yes, I am Asian. Is that even possible?
"Blah blah blah" (that's me speaking ENGLISH)
"Why can you speak English?"
"Because I'm American."
"But why do you look Japanese?"
"Because my parents are from Korea."
"Oh, so you're Korean. But then why are you good at English?"
[suppress exhasperated sigh] "Because I'm American."
[head tilt to the side, look of confusion] "Eh?"
If I had a penny for every time I had that exact conversation (with foreigners in Japan as well; they can be just as ignorant) I could quit JET.
Because being of Asian descent is disadventageous to my American-ness, I made assumption that my brown eyes, black hair, and lack of nose would be advantageous with regrad to my Asian-ness. I cannot express to you just how wrong I was in that assumption. Which brings me to the next series of quirks.
Behavioral quirk #6: Sushi-eating
"You can eat sushi??!?"
"Yes, I like it."
"But you can't eat raw fish."
"Actually, I like raw fish, too."
[head tilt to the side, look of confusion] "Eh?"
Behavioral quirk #7: Chopstick-using
"You can use chopsticks??!?"
"Yes, I use them everyday at home."
"But you are American. Americans can't use chopsticks."
"That's not true. Many Americans can use chopsticks. Besides, my family is Korean. Believe it or not, Japan is not the only country in the world that uses chopsticks."
[head tilt to the side, look of confusion] "Eh?"
Behavioral quirk #8: Rice-eating
Cut and paste chopsticks dialogue. Replace "chopsticks" with "rice" and "use" with "eat." My ability to eat rice amazes them ("But, you're AMERICAN!") yet at the same time, so does the next quirk.
Behavioral quirk #9: Bread or sandwich-eating
"You're eating a sandwich!"
"Umm, yes, I am."
"But you're KOREAN!"
Someone shoot me or show me a place where I can eat in peace, where no one will comment on my rice, bread, apple, or water.
Conclusion: I'm fighting a war that can't be won. One where I am Korean when it's convenient for them and where I am American all of the other times. They have a really hard time grasping the fact that I am Korean and American. Even though I look Japanese, I really am a foreigner. And I still have to put up with 9 more months of this.
Currently reading: Ironically, nothing at the moment.
Currently playing: Veruca Salt - Forsythia
Thursday, November 04, 2004
Websites and Blogs
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Links
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