Hey, it only took me a week this time, I should get some credit. I just updated the archives page, and poor May is just sitting there huddling around its single post, trying desperately to stay warm as the biting winds of inadequacy attack its tenderest bits. I'll try not to send its brother June to the same fate.
Hmm, I've really done too much lately to know how to begin posting. Did I mention that I'm in a homestay now? There are four energetic kids, the oldest of whom is nine, a very friendly and accomodating 33-year-old mom and a dad of unknown age whom I never see. I suspect that he may be actually be the secret fifth member of the Ninja Turtles, donning a turtle shell and fighting crime by night, and donning a business suit and fighting the crime of bad-tasting food as a restaurant manager by day. You see, he can't use a katana or sai or anything, so he fights crime with... deliciousness!
Still no photos because the computer here at the house is a litle awkwardly situated to get at the hole where the photos sneak in like very tiny thieves in the dark night of Computerland, also known as a USB port. Maybe I'll post next from school, where it should be easier.
Lately I've been taking advantage of the whole being-able-speak-Japanese thing and spending most of my time hanging out with friends, trying to get in as much good doing nothing as possible before going back home and being hit was a realy school system again. It's been working out well so far, but between this new all-social-butterfly-no-worker-bee policy and the ant hill of activity at home, I have no time to study but am becoming fairly skilled at entymology.
I'm really hot all the time now, which is not much change from the normal state of things when you have a physique carefully chiseled from the finest white chocolate Hershey never made, but enhanced by the twin facts that there is no air conditioning of any kind in my house and that the walk to school takes half an hour in the blazing sun and stifling air. It turns out that being a sweaty Italian in 100 percent humidity in 80ish degree temperatures feels approximately like being locked in a sauna while being rubbed with a thousand filthy little rags and being stared at by a creepy guy with a big mole made of pure hatred. I guess I would recommend it if that's your thing, but I confess it doesn't strike me as the greatest thing since sliced bread, or even fashionably hot-pink camo gear, which is not a very good idea at all when you really think about it.
- Gyaa! I'm give up
Saeki-ku, Hiroshima
731-5101
JAPAN