Here Ayed and I are pretending to make mochi, which is a pretty cool process involving super-steamed really sticky rice, a stone mortar, and I whole lot of bashing with a giant mallet. Sometimes this country is just unbeatable.
I'm not going to say what time it is right now, but I will say that it starts with three and ends with a number that looks suspiciously like a twenty. I am also not going to say when I have to get up tomorrow, but I will say that if the Devil makes his denizens arise at the 7:30 in order to pack in a full day of unending pain, I will wake up ten minutes before the damned.
Today I remembered that I have a paper due in that Hiroshima "class," of unspecified topic and length. All I know is that it's supposed to be on Hiroshima, but because we've never had an actual lesson in that class, I am very little the wiser about Hiroshima now than I was before I took that class, and certainly don't know enough about any one topic to fill a real paper. As a result, I wrote about some delirious crap for about a page and three quarters of the vertical-writing paper, which stretches the length of an essay by at least a quarter thanks to certain odd requirements of its use. Also spent a fair amount of time today working on the presentation I have to give tomorrow - when did this turn into real school? There is no excuse for this torture called "work." I can't wait until I'm in grad school, where I hear you can kick back and take it easy.
Today's Engrish is brought to you by the letter Andrew Richardson. That one comes between J and K, for those of you not in the know on the hip new Alpha-Bet 2.0.
- Gyaa! I'm give up
Naka-ku, Hiroshima
730-0803
JAPAN
