H I S S Y K N I T: blog

AUGUST 31, 05
"THAT'S ALL FOLKS"

My better-looking though equally lame blog is here.

AUGUST 7, 05
"GOOGLISM"

www.googlism.com

Googlism for: jodi

jodi is blind
jodi is a killer
jodi is back
jodi issue on interactivity in digital libraries
jodi is in my class at school and also gets help from special teachers to practice things like reading and writing in braille
jodi is supported by the british computer society and oxford university press
jodi is organised into themes
jodi is ofa good and is eyes clear yrly
jodi is simply
jodi is extraordinary in that she doesn't just design attractive pieces
jodi is so hot
jodi is already sitting in the car when arnaud decides to change to wet tires
jodi is proud to say that for at least seven years now she has conducted all her private affairs under her originally assigned social security number
jodi is motivated and driven
jodi is an accomplished feng shui practitioner and public speaker
jodi is warm
jodi is about to complete her masters? degree with the university of bristol
jodi is busy with the active lives of her boys and her church
jodi is a beautiful
jodi is very close to her parents and her twin brother
jodi is also the editor of databasics
jodi is code stripped of all functionality
jodi is intended to complement and further the aims of the workshop on "networked knowledge organization systems
jodi is 5 in this picture taken in the summer of 2001
jodi is a charming and amiable young lady who has won the hearts of many in her "magpakatotoo ka sister" sprite commercial
jodi is a big freak
jodi is teaming with dj lukewarm
jodi is a full service bridal shop located in north charleston
jodi is ideally suited
jodi is also an active musician and voice over professional
jodi is a very kind caring person but she sometimes makes a big deal of something small
jodi is an account executive for a brokerage firm in new york city
jodi is from australia
jodi is clearly going places
jodi is a copyright lawyer and web designer
jodi is a talented young caricature artist
jodi is a broadway trained singer and actress
jodi is herself taken
jodi is the nearest pass we have to a net art that might be heading for degree zero
jodi is an exemplary member of the community
jodi is a sophomore majoring in journalism and minoring in sociology
jodi is an aspiring journalist in both broadcasting and print
jodi is responsible for the financial transactions of the chapter
jodi is a senior here at fairleigh dickinson university
jodi is completely nude in the bed
jodi is not part of a culture in a national
jodi is a native oklahoman and is a graduate of oklahoma state
jodi is a low to high guard 4 01/11/2001 unclassified unclass lan read /writ e jodi network architecture jodi /data
jodi is just by looking at her work
jodi is a second grade teacher in webster
jodi is well quailified to assist clients achieve their financial goals
jodi is totally different to rebecca
jodi is proud to say she's now comfortable in a size 14
jodi is the youngest of the 16 oakford dominican sisters in the us and while she has no problem putting herself in the shoes of a high school
jodi is 25 years old and is a graduate of the on campus program at the university of alberta
jodi is 6 months into pregnancy
jodi is a 1996 graduate of central pennsylvania business school
jodi is a 1982 graduate of east islip high school
jodi is currently free to users thanks to support from the british computer society and oxford university press http
jodi is a daunting if not impossible task
jodi is interested in seeing technology used to help people in their work and lives
jodi is back after the hiatus of a couple of years govinda and sanjay dutt jodi starring in jodi no 1
jodi is at her best
jodi is tying the paddles onto the canoe before a portage
jodi is a real estate agent that is known in the community of clearwater for their dedicated client service
jodi is a member of the american institute of certified public accountants and the ohio society of certified public accountants
jodi is well worth not missing
jodi is nothing like my gaters name
jodi is responsible for answering the phones
jodi is a senior guard
jodi is a bright
jodi is the editor of the canning gazette
jodi is a really nice
jodi is gearing up to make a lot of booksignings to introduce her readers to wolf hayward and molly donivan
jodi is your source
jodi is an older shepherd that was found as a stray
jodi is currently free to users thanks to support from the >british computer society and oxford university press >http
jodi is leading the next generation yoga teacher training
jodi is an official member of what club? member #40222 of leinenkugel's leinie lodge
jodi is visiting our hearts and letting us know that she will always be
jodi is a group of 2 artists
jodi is the unwinders worship coordinator and outreach coordinator
jodi is active in her community and has served on the board of the colorado women?s agenda
jodi is on the bottom
jodi is a member of the skillsusa
jodi is a fascinating artist and a fascinating person
jodi is currently living in san benito county with her husband craig and three children; morgan
jodi is bracken's and frank's daughter born in april 1998
jodi is a ten year old shepherd that was found as a stray

Email me with your results, I'd love to see what YOU are...

Okay, I think I am definitely developing a problem with kimono addiction. Today, I finally screwed up the courage to go into the kimono shop in Misawa that I skipped last time (see MAY 15, 05 entry), simply because they were having a big sale. I figured I might get ignored (due to some bad experiences in Tokyo) but it turned out to be another delightful adventure. The shop ladies were so thrilled that I was interested in yukata (and kimono) and then, in the process of trying on YET ANOTHER yukata, when I tied my own obi, they were dumbfounded. Coupled with my (rudimentary) knowledge of the parts of Kimono and my limited Japanese, I was a hit. The shopkeepers were impressed, even though my obis still come out a bit sloppy.

In fact they were so impressed, they threw in an obijime (a cord used to hold the bow together for formal obi, or as a decoration for the less formal yukata obi) when I bought the yukata, geta and obi I had tried on. I shouldn't mention that I bought a Yukata and another obi yesterday. Everything is on sale! And I get excited and the shopkeepers get excited and well, it's good karma to support the locals, right? At any rate, I'm set for the end of summer festivals.

Chris and I may well go back tomorrow and order him a custom-made yukata, because he is too big to buy off the rack and the one we bought last year...well, we're both fat and happy, but I'm fat-japanese-girl sized, so I don't need custom-made.

Once again, my nemisis insomnia has struck. Gah. I wouldn't wish this affliction on my worse enemy. I have an entire stash of Ambien, but my problem is staying asleep, not getting to sleep (I go out like a light) and that's difficult to treat. So I get up and well, surf and do lame blog stuff, and you get random sleep-deprived brain spew. The foremost being I would really like to see "The Aristocrats" just so I can hear how filthy a joke can be. There's a challenge on the site to submit your own version and I spent a couple of hours this morning thinking up my own version of the joke. It was pretty foul but I'm certain it was still pretty amateurish (email me if you are curious).

Anyway, summer is now in full swing here in Misawa. We have been hitting the 80's and Tuesday it got over 91 degrees. Doesn't sound impressive compared to the Big Melt that hit the East Coast recently until you realize that just three weeks ago, folks in Misawa were wearing sweatshirts.

The fan on my computer is making a horrid noise, but being the excellent tech I am, I have an elegant solution-turn the internet radio feed up LOUDER so I don't hear the fan anymore. Easy peasy solution. Actually, I am thinking that there's probably cat fur in there. That or one of those enormous Japanese spiders. Ugh, that gives me the whim-whams just thinking about it.

On the August 1 entry, I forgot to add the picture of Mom and me in our kimonos. These are kimono and accessories that I own. Mine is late Meijii era, Mom's is contemporary. The outfit Mom is wearing is authentic--a Japanese woman her age could wear the ensemble to a formal event. Doesn't she look great? I've always loved my mom in orange, it is a color I like but simply cannot wear.I'm not so keen on how I look, I can't figure out why my face is so florid and my hair is so ashy. Unlike Mom's getup, my outfit wouldn't pass here , but that's okay. We're playing dress-up.

I am currently at home on a Monday, trying desperately to get the aftermath of our vacation under control. I missed my Japanese lessons, Naginata Practice, a baby shower for a friend and other stuff simply because I cannot get caught up. What a mess! I'm tempted to just start throwing out / ignoring stuff. But I can't.

We have veggies in the garden! Two eggplants, several green tomatoes, a couple of piimon (Japanese peppers), a
few soybeans, but no cukes...at least not yet...

Sylvia and I got dressed up in Yukata and went to the Misawa Tanabata Festival on July 30.

Our vacation (July 11 - July 23) in Tokyo flew by! Some pictures of us and the stuff we saw.

Gaeb and Aimee Hernandez and their daughters came to see us at the Naginata Taikai on July 10. Gaeb has pictures on his site.

Well, Chris and I survived our Naginata Taikai (tournament). Most of the time, I was thinking "I would rather fall down a flight of stairs than ever do this shit again!" This was mostly due to the language barrier, but a small part is I don't like tournaments in general. But in the end, it was pretty fun. Chris placed third in Men's Engi (paired forms) and second in Shiai (open sparring). My partner, Shiho-san and I got third place in Women's Engi, after seriously flubbing a form. Sylvia didn't compete, but she was an assistant to the judges and was far more useful than I was, for certain.

Most of the naginata-ka are girls, but there are some boys. We had a diverse range of ages, from 4 and 5 year olds to adult women- one of our sensei is 70 years old and competes regularly, although she was not in this competition as she was serving as a judge.

Because of our participation in the taikai, the local newspaper is featuring Chris and I in one of the daily editions this week. We're a bit of a novelty item. Trying to explain my hyphenated name to the Japanese press was just too much, so I opted to just be identified using Chris' last name. Someday, I'll be fluent enough to explain why my name is the way it is.

Speaking of celebrity, whenever requested, I posed for a (lot of) pictures with lots of Japanese, who seemed thrilled to meet me and try out their English. It was a bit weird. On one level, I felt like I was being made fun of, in some subtle way, or was like the traffic accident you can't help but to look at, but on the other hand, there was no sense of maliciousness or meanness and people seemed geniunely tickled. I'll go on believing it was all on the up and up and everyone was really excited and being friendly, not mean.

It was a long day, beginning at 0800 and ending at 1700. Chris and I went out for udon (noodles) and beer after practice. When we got home, my mom had called. She and Matt were in the hotel at Haneda! Hooray! Almost here!

I tracked my mom's flight using a demo version of AirNav Tracker. If you are an aviation nut, I'd recommed purchasing the full version, which allows you to save your settings and searches. It's a really neat piece of software.

Finished some projects today. One project completed is a fukuro (bag) for Sylvia's naginata. Most of the problem was trying
to find an appropriate fabric. I wanted something Japanese in style, specifically with sakura (cherry blossoms) in the pattern, because Sylvia's middle name is "Sakura" (I love calling Sylvia by her Japanese name, because all the Japanese folks just about pass out when they see a black woman answering to it). Anyway, I finally found the fabric in a teeny little store in Hachinohe. The clerk complimented me on my choice, saying it was very pretty and red is a very lucky color.

For the actual sewing, I didn't have any patterns to go by, but I did have a finished bag in the house to look at, and made the bag by examining the existing one. I was pretty proud of the fact that I used Mock French Seams in the bag, so it would stay neat and tidy inside. The Mock French Seam starts out just like a Plain Seam. After the bottom panel is opened out, the sewn flap is folded in half, with the raw edge going between the flap and the bottom panel.

All that aside, I was even more proud that Sylvia geniunely liked the bag.

Two (three if you count mine) birthdays in the office in July. Freddy's birthday technically was last week, but no one was around so we had cake today to celebrate his 20th birthday. Being 20 means he is now legal (in Japan and on Base) to drink! So, a beer-bottle cake!

Kelly's birthday is July 22. I wouldn't be at work, so I decided to make his cake early. Kelly has a fascination with poop. Kelly also owns a dog that is a coprophage. In addition to this, Kelly has a weak stomach and a vivid imagination and will talk about poop or his poop-eating dog (or other gross stuff) and make himself sick. So I was impressed that he didn't gag too much when he saw his gross, but perfectly edible, cake. The "turds" are chocolate (good chocolate at that).

Aimee suprised me with a gift of a low-carb veggie cookbook and an adorable t-shirt (no pictures).

Sylvia and I went shopping (so did Chris). I bought her a complete yukata (summer kimonoo) kit because Tanabata Festival is July 30 in Misawa and I am not going to be the only gaijin walking around in yukata. I think I might have to bribe her more, though (pictures to come).

...Decided to celebrate the Fourth of July by celebrating my birthday (July 16) early. Chris let me buy a Kimono Dansu, so
I had proper storage for my growing kimono collectin. It's made of Paulownia wood, which provides protection against the humidity in summer and dryness in winter. In addition, Paulownia has a unique property--it can be burned but still maintain
its structural integrity. The only problem is that it dents easily. My dansu came from Nogawa furniture. They had a terrific cash-and-carry price, so it was really a steal. They delivered my dansu today and it is in my tatami room, where it looks very much at home

Attended a farewell party for some friends who are going back to the states, happy and sad at the same time.

The rest is normal Sunday stuff, laundry, housecleaning, and other domestic duties.

Well, I passed the exam. I didn't score as high as I wanted to, but I did get 100% on one of the five sections of the exam.
If my SQL 7.0 exam is still valid, then I am an MCSA! Wheeee! My brain was shot for the rest of the day, which is the only way I can explain the fact that I had a humongous homemade donut and a cup of homemade green tea ice cream (made by a little bakery here in town) for lunch, which is not exactly sensible. But it was very tasty. Usually I care about the stuff I eat.

I forgot to post a picture of the cake I made a few weeks ago for my coworker, Mike. There's an office in-joke behind the sombrero, but I'm not even gonna try to explain it, because it's one of those things that you had to be there. I totally MacGyver'red the cake out of a pizza pan, a regular 8 inch round, 2 inch deep pan, two round glass casserole dishes, and frosting. A! LOT! OF! FROSTING! FROSTING! The brim of the hat says "Have you got a sombrero?" Mike thought it was great and the consensus was it was yummy.

* from the Dead Milkmen song Nutrition

My big crisis is the MSCA exam I will be taking in abot three hours. I postponed it twice and now its D-day or rather E (for exam) Day and I have no confidence whatsoever. I did fine with the other four exams, but then I suddenly lost my moxie. Meh.

Everyone I know is having a crisis (or six). All at once. RL is in the middle of a divorce, DS is wracked with pain from an injury, AG is worried about family, MG is horribly depressed, JG has a hospitialized spouse, AH is facing a crossroad in her career/life, and lots of other people I think about, all have big worries, too. Yet despite this, all these people keep trucking along and doing what has to get done, refusing to go down without a fight. My mother and I always referred to this as "Dying with your boots on."

Friends and other family members always thought it odd that I end my phone calls with my mom with "Die with your boots on," instead of (or often in addition to) saying "I love you" I'm kind of fuzzy as to when we began to use "Die..."; I'll have ask Mom and see if she can pinpoint it any better than I. I did some quick research (Google) a while back to see if I could get a definitive answer about the origins of the phrase, there wasn't a whole lot but I did find one pretty succinct little tidbit:

die with one's boots Also, die in harness.
Expire while working, keep working to the end....
Both phrases probably allude to soldiers who died on active duty. Until the early 1600s the noun "boot" denoted a piece of armor for the legs, which may have given rise to this usage....
From The American Heritage Dictionary of Idioms by Christine Ammer (1997)

My mom and I have always used the phrase to mean "go down fighting, to not give up." This is probably incorrect (depending on how you read "keep working to the end). Ironically, my dad actually managed to nail the correct definition, as he "expired in harness" while at work. Go figure.

For my all friends who are having problems, I say (with my interpretation of the phrase as "fight on, keep going) "Die with your boots on." I'm pulling for you.

A Japanese family is having a house built across the (narrow) street from us. Last night, the family made the rounds introducing themselves and presenting a box filled with yummy teacakes. There are about eight houses on our block. We figure the teacakes were about 10,000 to 15,000 Yen per box. That's quite a chunk of change. We thought it especially sweet that they included the three obviously American houses. Chris and I decided once the family is in the house, we will bring them over something, too.

On a less gross note, I am two weeks into my Kumon Language Program. I am proud to say that I am struggling with concepts that are no problem at all for your average Japanese pre-schooler. Today, I managed to count up to 40, although I did confuse the hiragana for "na" and "ta" during the flashcard part of my lesson.

...So I will keep the name my father gave me
being neither anonymous nor poor
and having no need to let myself be robbed
a second time.

excerpted from "Nomen" by Naomi Long Madgett

On Saturday afternoon (after spending Saturday morning cleaning the house) we headed out to Morioka, a fairly large city about an hour and a half out from Misawa. We got into the city around 3pm. Our first big adventure consisted of Chris going down a one-way street--the wrong way. This caused a Japanese taxi driver to totally chew us out from his cab, between laughs. I think the driver was probably laughing at my reaction, which was bug-eyed and open-jawed. No blood, no foul and Chris got us going the right way. We then pulled into a parking garage, and got another lecture in Japanese. Our vehicle was too tall because of its roof racks and so we couldn't park in the garage, apparently greatly inconveniencing the garage attendant. However, since customer service is paramount in Japan, he found us a park out side the garage. We then went over to Iwate Park, the former site of Iwate Castle. The irises were really pretty and so were the ponds. The prefectural library is located right next to the park and I wanted to go in, but chickened out. We walked all around the main shopping street--O-dori (Big Street) where there were all kinds of shops, but much to Chris' dismay, no bathrooms. It was starting to become early evening, so we decided to try to find a hotel. Chris swore he'd seen a Holiday Inn when we came through JR Morioka Train Station (en route to Tokyo) a few months ago. So we drove around and around and around and there was absolutely no Holiday Inn. Chris' amazing directional ability served us well, but the Holiday Inn Homing Instinct part of it failed miserably. Since our guidebook indicated that most resturants in Morioka closed at about 8pm, and it was now 6:15pm, I was getting antsy. Chris finally just randomly picked a hotel (The Morioka Metropolitan) and pulled into the guest drop off area -- the wrong way! Some poor Taxi driver had to back out down the drive to let us in. The valet and Chris had a conversaton about not having reservations and was there room and something about parking...we ended up in a parking spot that I think was normally reserved for delivery trucks but we had a park (parking in Japan is worse than in DC if you can believe that). Then we went in. Another conversation ensued about standard rooms or derux rooms and then something about niman yen for the rate. That's all I caught.

Well, there we were with the Hotel Staff looking at us and Chris looks at me and all I can think is "Two hundred bucks? Shit." but then my pride kicked in and I said (trying not to squeak) "Daijobou des." (That's fine). The wonderful thing about Japan is that they go out of their way not to embarass you...not that we need any help from anyone else, we do damn fine on our own...however, they got us up to our room, which was really nice, after all. We unpacked a few things, Chris and I talked about how we had been stupid pretty much all day. I blamed it on being a "baka gaijin" and Chris taught me another word to add to the phrase, "dakara". So "baka gaijin dakara" is "[it is] because I am a stupid foreigner. It's TRUE!!! ARGH! I'm sure everyone has, at one point or another, purchased something they couldn't afford because they were too embarassed to say "No thank you, it's too expensive." Pride goeth before a fall, but pride also goeth before a big credit card bill. All the days' stupidity had made us ravenous, so we went out to try to find something for to eat.

Morioka has a regional dish called jajamen, which is a type of noodle dish. It's hot udon (big white wheat noodles--which I didn't eat when I first got here, because all I could think of was eating albino nightcrawlers) seasoned with miso and cucumbers. You add seasoning (salt, pepper, vinegar, pepper oil, radish) to taste. When you're done, you break an egg into the remaining bits of miso and veggies, swizzle it around with your chopsticks and then add broth and you have egg drop soup! We walked past a resturant featuring it, thinking we might play it safe and eat at MOS Burger because there's a few "safe" things for me there. Then we screwed up our courage, turned around and went back to the jajamen joint. The resturant was really cute! One wall of the resturant was all glass and faced into a little cobblestone walkway. We were seated and took a quick look at the menu which had instructions for how to eat the jajamen. In the pictures, the dollop of miso was very big and very dark and very intimidating, especially to Chris. I haven't met any miso I didn't like, but this was pretty intimidating. I was more concerned that there might be meat hiding in the dish somewhere. My solution was to order a huge beer and damn the torpedoes. It seems that if I have beer, small amounts of meat don't upset my stomach. I'm not sure why, but it seems to work and I have a great excuse to drink huge mugs of delicious Japanese beer. Turns out jajamen is vegetarian and the part where you turn it into egg-drop soup is phenomenal. I think I liked the "second course" of soup better than the actual noodles. The resturant had pretty wooden bowls full of fresh brown eggs on the tables, which made me smile, because I've always liked the way brown eggs look. Our waiter was very energetic (and cute) and seemed pretty excited to have a couple of gaijin trying out the local dish. He kept talking faster and faster. Luckily there was a lot of explanation through gesturing because Chris only caught a little of the high-speed Japanese and I just sat there like a jackass. But I was a jackass with a giant beer, so it was OK. We waddled back to the hotel room and crashed out.

We woke up Sunday morning, to find the English Version of The Japan Times delivered. Japanese service people are amazing. While we were down in the lobby looking at travel brochures, the Conceriege brought us over an ENGLISH version map of the area. Phenomenal. Out of the hotel, down the street to Mister Donut (or in Japanese "Misdo" because they shorten words and glom them together) for tea and donuts for brekkie. On the way back for the hotel, we saw an ad for capsule hotels! Right next to our hotel! For 28 dollars a night! Cheap! But I wondered where we would have parked--parking is scarce and very expensive in all of Japan. Back to the hotel to check out, where the bill was actually closer to 180 dollars and not the 200 I had thought and certainly not the 290 Chris had thought he heard. 180 for a quality hotel room without a reservation isn't bad. I looked at it as we paid for the parking and got the hotel room for free. We hit the road (going in the proper direction this time). We decided to visit Morioka Zoo, mostly because our friend Josh had told us a hysterical account of visiting the place with friends. He said the camel was the best animal there.

So Saturday morning was spent at the Morioka Zoo, which is is tucked into the side of a mountain. The grounds were small but beautiful, the animals acted like they were hung over (Josh's description and an apt one) and it was raining until we spent 300 yen on what was a 100 yen umbrella. Then the rain stopped. We viewed the whole zoo in about two hours. But it was a really nice way to spend a Sunday morning. By noon, we were starving, so we headed out to locate a conbeenie (Convenience store--there's no "V" in Japanese, so it's pronouced as "B") to grab some food and try to figure out how to get to Iwachu Casting Works. My camera battery gave out, which pissed me off, because I wanted to get some pictures of Iwachu.

Any tea afficianado or teapot collectors has probably heard of Iwachu and their famous cast iron teapots (tetsubin). They're carried at fancy stores like Sur La Table and the like. I have an Iwachu that Chris gave me as a gift. They're amazing. You could brain someone with them. Oh, and they keep the tea hot for hours, too! So I was really excited about going to see where the teapots are born. I found out that the Iwachu showroom has about 1,500 people go through it daily (that's about 40 tour buses). When you walk up to the courtyard, they have a huge rice pot, which holds 1200 Liters. Chris said, of course it's huge, they have to feed all those busloads of people! When you come into the reception area, there's an enormous teapot, which was all hand-cast. I was really disappointed that I had no camera, I wanted a picture next to the big teapot. Oh well. So we walked through a little history hall, which had dioramas about the history of ironcasting. Then we went into a covered breezeway, where there were hundreds of Iwachu cast iron bell windchimes, cheerfully dinging away. From the breezeway, you walk into a mini studio/foundry, where we saw a artisan (they really are--they work in an apprentice system and have many years of training) working on teapot. The shop area had that burnt metal smell that all foundries or welding/metal shops have, and I found myself thinking about a bit about my dad--his automotive shop had a similar smell. Unlike my dad, the guy working didn't singe off his eyebrows (at least while I was around). That thought was quickly preempted though, when I caught site of the showroom, full of teapots and other goodies, including windchimes, pots, pans, vases, sculptures and a mini-musuem wall full of vintage Iwachu teapots. We bought a lot of stuff and the staff was tickled. I guess they don't get a lot of gaijin up there. The manager even gave us a discount and threw in an English language guide as well as the newest catalogue. In Japanese, he apologized for the catalogue being in Japanese but said it would make a nice souvenir. I really wanted to tell him I came to the factory because I had an Iwachu bought in the States and "Iwachu no Testsubin daisuke des" (I really like my Iwachu Iron Teapot) but I wasn't willing to try it because I was afraid of saying something incorrectly and insulting him. After that, it was back to the car and head for home.

We stopped for a bathroom break at a highway reststop and the ladies' room had vases full of fresh irises. The Japanese crack me up. The food stand had ice cream, so we had some ice cream, too. We got home around 4pm and it was a terrific weekend, even for a couple of baka gaijin.

June 4, 2005 will be the one-year anniversary of my arrival to Misawa, Japan. The short story is: it has been both a horrible year and a wonderful year.

A while back, Genji the cat ate most of the Ikebana flower arrangement I had done. About ten minutes later, he was greenly and violently ill all over the dining-room rug.

Being in Japan has a somewhat similar feeling, I would say. You take in as much of the culture as you can and sometimes you have a violent, gut-wrenching reaction. Some days, you just want to go home. Our first few months here, we had a LOT of that.

In my case, it actually did include barfing. 10 years of vegetarianism will cause you to have a unpleasant reaction to meat suddenly reappearing in your gut. Despite repetitions of "nikku ga tabemasen" (I don't eat meat), I kept getting meat! Usually sneakily diced or shredded finely and hidden in beautiful bowls of noodles or veggies or, I swear, chocolate desserts. This is because Japanese don't consider pork, seafood, fish or chicken as being meat (meat is beef), as I discovered. I was ready to commit seppuku, because it would have been less painful to cut my guts out than to be surprised by pork one more time.

I thought I had the phrase for "I only eat vegetables"-which is different from "I don't eat meat" down pat. Apparently not. One day at a ramen place, I busted out "I only eat…" hoping to get a bowl of ramen full of veggies and without meat and the waitress looked at me. Uh oh. The I-have-no-idea-what-you-just-said-to-me look. . I know the look well, from the fact I wear it on my countenance constantly. So Chris tried to help explain, too. We thought we had it figured out.
My ramen arrived with EXTRA PORK and NO VEGETABLES. I gave as much of the pork as possible to Chris and ate what I could of the broth and noodles(the Japanese hold wasting of food to be a terrible sin and I agree).I was sick for a few days (the broth was hearty and strong) but I survived.

The source of one of worst culture shock moments surprised me very much. This would be "Instant Illiteracy." Both the written and spoken Japanese language is completely different from English. I had a very hard time adjusting to not being able to read much of anything. One afternoon, we visited a local bookstore, mostly to browse through the gazillion lavishly illustrated/photographed magazines there. Okay, and to be able (gleefully, I might add) flip through the porn rags out in the open with no sense of furtiveness or embarrassment.
But it was a bookstore and being an avid reader, I desperately wanted to *read* not *look*. Chris said at one point, I was just standing in one of the aisles. "Looking like you were going to cry." I replied "I was trying not to. A reader in a bookstore the size of a city block and I can't read any of the books!" It made me think of the famous Twilight Zone episode with Burgess Meredith and the end of the world and the books and the broken glasses.

Coming to Japan was hard on the marriage, too. We were married all of five months and I went to Korea from April to May of 2004. I was home, in my house, for less than four days, before we packed out and spent two weeks living in a hotel. Then we went to Japan. I had only traveled "far away" once--to Korea. Chris has traveled, but has never lived any great distance from his family.
I was able to cope with the distance, as I've lived away from my mom and brother for nearly 12 years. But never THIS far away. I knew it was bad when I got homesick for Buffalo, NY. Fer Chrissakes! Homesick for Buffalo!

Anyway, so we were recently married, just moved to country where we didn't read or speak the native tongue, we were scared, we were overstimulated, we were cranky, nasty (me), withdrawn (him). The best hissyfit was over dinner (or lack thereof) one night. We had been in-country for about a month. I finally reverted back to a two-year old state of mind and refused to get out of the car when we arrived at the local mall for dinner, saying I was sick and tired of being sick (and tired) literally. And I wasn't going to eat anything but pizza for a week. Chris ate dinner alone at a small restaurant in the mall and the following week I ate pizza every day.

It was a lot at once: new marriage, new job, new country. I didn't always handle things as well as I though I would. I was shocked at how much of a wuss I was. I thought I would go forth, guns blazing and instead I shrunk back into the shadows and cowered. There was a week where I refused to go outside the house. I was terrified I would offend someone. I was terrified I would offend everyone. But then there were times when I was bulletproof and brave and had a 'that is not a problem, that's an opportunity" mindset. I had those moments where if life were a Broadway musical (thank goodness it's NOT) I would have busted into a song about "Havin' fun in the land of the Risin' Sun" or some gushy sonic effluvia of similar sort. These outbursts didn't happen often, especially the singing part, which is lucky because I am absolutely tone-deaf. I wish I had more of those confident moments, but it's hard. Maybe this coming year. Here's to more personal growth. Nobody said it was going to be easy, now that I think of it.

I did learn something which helped me relax: As a gaijin (foreigner) I am excused from understanding the intricacies of Japanese etiquette. If you show good Western manners, the Japanese are fine with that. This gives me a lot of ease. The Japanese are terribly excited if you can display even a few simple, good Japanese manners, even if you sort of miss the mark.

One memorable instance was when the moving crew unpacked us. It was July. It was hot. So I had some drinks and snacks ready for the crew. It just seemed the decent thing to do. Those guys (and one woman) were busting their backs. It was amazing. The crew leader came in when it was all done and went over our checklist. Knowing a little about the culture, we knew he would most likely not accept a tip, but we decided we would try. We also knew it was good manners to put the money in an envelope before presenting it. So Chris went down the road to the Sanwado (like a Japanese Walmart) and picked up some gift envelopes. When we handed the crew lead his envelope, he got this look on his face. Uh oh. Something was wrong.

It was obvious the crew lead was carefully considering what he was going to say. And he said:
"You have been very kind. Most peoples do not try to understand my culture. This is good manner, but not quite right. So I will teach you for the next time, so no more embarrassments. I do not think you are dumb, I think you are kind for trying. So, I show you." Here he pointed to the design on the envelope. "*These* envelopes are used for when some guy has died. The monies help pay for the funeral. It is a sad envelope." Oh.my.god. Chris and I were appalled! There was much bowing and gomen-naisai-ing, but we got it sorted out. Ultimately he thanked us again for our trying so hard, as well as for providing food and drinks for the crew, something most of his customers don't do. I'm grateful to him for explaining the envelopes. The crew lead was very kind -and also in a way, brave. Most Japanese would have said nothing, and we would have gone on, giving the improper envelopes. To be so frank was pretty brave of him, it was very much against the culture to which he belongs. I'll remember that forever.

This is not to say that after one year, I haven't learned to work the slack granted me as a "guest" here in Japan. I am usually treated with deference (one time in the subway, a man in a wheelchair insisted I use the elevator before him, as I was a guest and he would wait. I refused) In addition to this, the Japanese cope with things that make them uncomfortable by firmly IGNORING it and this behavior can be used to my (or any other gaijin's) advantage. Pretty much claiming ignorance and apologizing will get you out of most situations, although the old lady three houses down is beginning to suspect I know damn well I'm picking HER flowers out of HER garden. One of these days, I'm going to be found dead of blunt force trauma to the head from a garden spade.

The language barrier is hard, too. I have no idea why I was surprised by that. I mean it's a Level III language, which means you need about 600 hours of study to get basic proficiency. I'm not making much of an effort so I'm not anywhere near 600 hours…but not because I think everyone should speak English, but because I am having a hard time grokking the language itself. It is also because I rely on Chris, which does both of us a disservice. I would probably have more language if I didn't work on the military base surrounded by Americans. If I had some Japanese co-workers, I would try harder. Maybe. My first few forays into speaking the language and I've already made the one of the stereotypical mistakes: I told one of my instructors his haircut was "kowaii" (scary) instead of "kawaii"(cute). More brilliantly, I announced I was NOT going to pay the restaurant bill, when I meant to say I WAS. I told somebody else that I like to sit under the "tonkatsu" in winter. What I meant to say was "kotatsu". For your edification, a "kotatsu" is a heated table. A tonkatsu is a fried pork chop. I will admit, even I found that one funny. But mostly it makes me feel stupid and reluctant to say anything at all.

I make other mistakes. It has been a humbling experience. At several points during the year, I was pretty fucking sick of being humbled. I forgot to bow at the right times. I have forgotten to remove my shoes on stepping up in to a restaurant's rooms. While out being touristy, I inadvertently picked up a monk's sandals outside a Buddhist shrine, thinking they were the "public" ones (most places provide loaner sandals when you have to take off your shoes) Luckily, the monk found some of the Buddha nature in this, and we had a good laugh about it, even though it still makes me cringe and gives me that horrible twisty feeling in the murky place where I store all my horrid memories of embarrassing things I've done.

But I didn't retreat into the house permanently. I (and Chris) actually get out there. We have finally begun branching out. We have learned to go prepared, with extra cash, snacks, cellphones, an electronic dictionary, guidebooks, a camera, chopsticks, hand sanitizer and tissues (while Japan provides lots of public restrooms, they don't always provide TP). Honestly, we leave most of that crap in the glovebox of the car, except for the tissues. We try to take it as it comes and accept how circumstances turn out as the way circumstances turn out. The year here has forced me to learn to live with the moment and learning to live with being out of my element. There are people on base who refuse to go into the Japanese community. I cannot imagine a two-year tour and never going off-base. That mindset makes me sick at heart. My interactions with this new world haven't always been easy or pleasant, but I am grateful for them.

We live in a Japanese neighborhood, complete with a neighbor who practices his Iaido (the Art of Drawing the Sword) on his front lawn every Sunday--weather permitting). Our house is an older one, with a tatami mat room and a more Japanese sensibility to it than most of the homes Americans live in. We love it. It is just a perfect size ("too small" by American standards). Our landlady likes to visit with us and practice her English.

I have tried my hand at some quintessential Japanese arts, like Ikebana (flower arrangement), wearing Kimono (elegant but uncomfortable), calligraphy (I was pleased simply with not spilling ink all over myself). We go to the Onsen (public bath). Yes, I have been naked in public in a foreign country. It was worth it, because I cannot even describe how wonderful bathing in hotsprings is.

I hiked Mount Fuji on my 33 birthday. We spent a free day after the hike in Tokyo. I went to Matsuya department store to look at yukata (informal summer kimono, popular as festival wear). The lady working there saw me and said "Please try on! Free!" and she dressed me (you need an engineering-oriented mind and years of experience to quickly and properly put on kimono). I bought an entire outfit and the staff was so tickled to find out I was going to wear it to a local festival (Chris told them all this, I just grinned like a fool) and they gave me printed instructions, so I could dress myself. I ended up not going to the festival (it was almost 100 degrees on the day it was held) but I'm going to try again this year and I'm going to wear my yukata and think of the kind Kimono lady at Matsuya. We toured Tokyo again in September, with Chris' parents. Chris navigated the subways and railways like a pro, even in hellacious, enormous Shinjuku station. We went to Tokyo again in November for our one-year wedding anniversary and went to some of the smaller, less touristy places. I enjoyed that even more than the first or second trip. I am particularly fond of the shrines and temples.

Locally, we joined up with a martial arts group (two actually--naginata and kendo). They were warm and welcoming, relaxed around us, despite the language barrier. I think they like genuinely like us. We genuinely like them. We are recognized regulars at a sushi place. I find that after a year of settling in (I thought I would be settled after three months! It is to laugh), I really do like being here, but sometimes there's no place but home.

There have been volumes and volumes of scholastic books written on the differences between East and West. My experience isn't book-worthy by any means, but it's invaluable to me. All I can say I am outside looking in and will never fit in and that is just how it is. It may be a lonely thing sometimes, but not necessarily a bad thing. Certainly, there are lots of things about the culture which I find stupid and wrong and hard to fathom, but I'm sure it's also the reverse. I also have a deeper level of respect for those Japanese I know who have moved to the States and taken up citizenship there. Talk about being a stranger in a strange land. Oh, wait, that would be me, too…
There is an old Japanese saying, "the other side also has an other side." I am seeing so many sides and it is amazing and wonderful. I'm grateful for my year in Japan. It's made me a much better person in many ways.

We left for work today and the garden looked fine. We came home and something had EATEN the watermelon! We also lost an eggplant. Well, didn't lose it, per se, I know where it is--in the planter and it is absolutely dead. On the other hand, the tomatoes are doing great and the basil has sprouted.

We had a visitor from May 26 to May 31. Fran Vall is Chris' Naginata sensei. She was in Japan to train with some Naginata folks she met waaaaaaaaaaaay back when she was with the State Department. Fran's fluent in Japanese. It's pretty funny to see this tiny grey-haired Jewish granny spouting fluent Japanese! Fran was actually a very good guest--clean, quiet and considerate, but I wasn't always the best host. I'm so ingrained in my ways and so used to not having people in the house, that I think I wasn't always cordial and I feel a bit badly about that. I am also concerned that Fran thinks Chris and I are total alkies, because we totally hit two parties in two days (HIGHLY unusual for us) and drank like fish. We don't normally act like that at ALL. So we had practice at our Dojo on Saturday, followed by a party at Sylvia's, then just bombing around on Sunday, followed by another party at Amy's. On Memorial Day we went hiking in Oriase gorge, famous for the 15 or so waterfalls contained in the area. Fran really enjoyed it, as did we. We had bukkake udon at the noodle joint down the road from us. Fran eats noodles almost as fast as I do...and Chris took his pokey time, as usual.

Most everyone around here seems to have at least a small "kitchen" garden. I decided at the end of last summer I wanted a garden, too. Last weekend, I did something about it and we went and got the makings for a small vegetable patch. I stuck to things that are relatively easy to grow, as I am a practitioner of the plant and pray school of gardening; I pretty much stick the hapless seedling in the ground and pray it grows. Chris really wanted cucumbers for some reason. He doesn't even eat them! We had to go to three different places to find decent-looking cuke seedlings. They were all pretty sad, but they seem to be perkier now that they've been planted a few days. We have cukes, a watermelon, two kinds of tomatoes, orange, red and PURPLE bell peppers, Japanese green peppers, eggplants, soybeans and some basil. Everything was seedlings except for the Basil, because all I could find were Basil seeds. The eggplants, soybeans and Japanese peppers are in containers, because my "primary" garden was too small to contain everything we bought (we got excited).

I made two little flower beds by the entrance of the house, and stuffed them with purple and yellow Japanese flowers, which I think may be some kind of Anemone. The rocks edging the beds came from my yard, as the soil here is incredibly stony. It's also smelly--a yucky smelly, not that pleasant, rich and damp dirt smell I've experienced before working in gardens and fields, but rather a swampy kind of smell. I made sure to mix some potting soil into the beds in case the soil already there wasn't any good. Judging by the monster Tampopos (Dandelion) that are growing all over my yard, the soil on its own is plenty fine for growing things. I had a lot of the purple Anemones left over, so I stuck some flowers in random spots in the yard. Our sidewalk makes a dogleg as it comes through our yard, so I put three plants there. It makes me smile and it made Chris smile, too. I put some more flowers by our gate and a few along our fence. I also potted an Anemone in a nice container to give to Miyuki-san, our landlady, because she is pretty and sweet and takes care of us when things leak (our kerosene heater this winter, our roof this spring).

I also put in a faux Japanese rock garden. I actually PAID for the small rock I included in the garden. Normally, due to my miscreant nature (inherited from my father) I would have simply "borrowed" a rock from someone else's garden. However, my husband, Mr. Upright Citizen, is proving a powerful influence for the forces of good (or at least good neighborliness--which doesn't include stealing rocks). I am sure my father is laughing at me for paying 400 yen (4 bucks) for a rock I could have gotten for free. Granted, I would have had to go out and get it at 1 AM, but still...

The garden and flowers have been good for our attitude about rainy Misawa weather. Normally, we are like "Crap, it's raining AGAIN" and now we smile and say "It's good for the garden!" I can't wait for the plants to start producing. I am already dreaming of roasted pepper tapenade, homemade tomato sauce, Pesto (Kelly is looking forward to Pesto, too) and slices of watermelon. Mmmmm.

Since my mentioning my Kimono purchase on May 13, I did a little homework and found out a Kimono stand is called an "Iko."
I figured I should be able to get one at a Kimono store. There are three Kimono shops in Misawa, all within a mile of one another. The first one we went to was Namioka. The proprietor got really nervous when we walked in. I asked about the Iko and she looked kind of blank. Figuring something was up, I pointed to a stand. She shook her head. Okay, no go on the Iko. So we went to Kobayashi (all you Star Trek fans shut up with the "Kobayashi Maru!"already). I had been there once before, to buy a men's obi to go with a Kimono sent to my brother as a wedding gift. I knew they didn't have much English--not suprising since few Americans would go into a REAL Kimono store. Most 'Mericans buy stuff that is souvenir-quality (aka CHEAP)--not the sort of stuff a Kimono Store sells. We walked around for a while, gathering courage and finally I made Chris ask about the Iko, because I had apparently screwed up the pronounciation at the last store, saying "eye-koh" instead of "ee-koh".

So Chris asked. We learned that Iko is actually pronounced closer to "echo." Anyway, they didn't carry them at the Kobayashi, as they were "takai" (expensive). I thought this was a funny thing for them to say, since a good Kimono and the furnishings can run hundred and hundreds of dollars. Apparently, Iko can go all the way up into the thousands, depending on fanciness of finish and the type of wood and hardware used. There weren't any in stock, so it would have to be ordered. The shop owners (a husband and wife) were very careful to try to explain all the options. They asked about the size and color of my Kimono and was it for storage or to decorate our house...finally, I remembered my fancy wedding Kimono was called an "uchikake" and that seemed to help. The owners showed us some of the Iko they use in the store and then they showed us some catalogs. All the time, they kept apologizing for the cost. Chris thought perhaps they were trying to explain that this was real "furniture" and not just a souvenir-quality item. They seemed very concerned that we would have a fit over the price or something. Personally, at this point, I'm thinking the darn thing is gonna be about a bazillion and two yen and I wasn't thrilled but I wasn't going to give up on my quest for an Iko. Plus it was a pride sort of thing, too. We finally settled on one that was niman yen (20,000 yen--about 200 bucks). I could deal with a basic Iko for niman yen. Anyway, the shop owners were delightful, and we managed to do OK. They ordered the Iko for us without even asking for a deposit! This astonished us to no end. We thought it was cute that they said when they Iko arrived, they would leave the phone message in Japanese when they called, because they "No Speak Engrish." I'll probably go back there a few more times to buy gifts and things, since they were so kind and helpful.

The last Kimono store was pretty darn big and fancy and I got intimidated in the same way that I get intimidated when I think about going into Nieman-Marcus. At least it's only a snob thing at Nieman Marcus. Here it is also a language thing. Since I already had the Iko anyway, I skipped it. I may go back because they had some pretty accessories, but I'll probably patronize Kobayashi (quiet ST fans) for most Kimono-related purchases.

PS It seems like all Kimono shops are very clean, neat and visually very pleasing. I like being in them.

Sometimes, making a living fixing computers sucks. What else can you do except...

I purchased two Kimono today. There was a vendor at the Base Exchange and both Kimono caught my eye as I walked past. One is an uchikake (wedding) Kimono (contemporary) and I can't even begin to describe it, it's crazy with patterns and embroidery and gold thread and, well, it is just wow. Unfortunately, I can't even begin to photograph it either as I have no way to display it. This means a shopping adventure this weekend to try to find a Kimono stand.

The second Kimono is a Iro-Tomosode (a formal Kimono, with five kamon, or family crests on it), from the Meiji period, which means it is at least 90 years old, as the Meiji period ran from 1868-1912. I think it may be Chijimi, formally called Omeshi Chirimen, which is pre-dyed fabric with fine wrinkles on its surface. My Kimono might be also be Chirimen: wavy wrinkled silk fabric with a distinctive weaving technique, twisting the threads while weaving. Either way, I'm not an expert, but I can tell you that the Kimono is a beautiful deep purple color for the most part, fading in an ombre to a light lavender at the bottom, with a pattern of chrysanthemums (Botan) and cranes (Tsuru). I think the design was hand-painted. It shows some wear in spots, but so would you if you were 90 or more years old! The little stitches it was sewn with probably cost some seamstress her eyesight.

TAKING A SWIPE AT JAPANESE CALLIGRAPHY

The base was offering a free calligraphy class. I've always admired calligraphic works, either Western or Eastern, and I wanted to give it a try. I signed Chris up, too. Akiko-san was our instructor and she made it look easy-peasy. It is NOT easy-peasy. Japanese school children take calligraphy as part of their Japanese language class beginning in First Grade and ending in the Ninth Grade. Despite the formal training, Calligraphy really is only used for special occassions now, such as New Year's Cards, Weddings, and Funerals. The Kanji we wrote (or tried to write) was Shuujin, which is "friend". I had a smashing success, in as much as I managed to hold the brush the correct way (by the handle, not by the business end) and managed to not get totally covered in ink. The act of writing requires a lot of concentration, but even so, the feeling of doing the strokes is sensual and lovely. Akiko-san said the most wonderful thing about the Calligraphy is that every result is different, because the writer's personality shows in the brush strokes. As you can tell my Calligraphy, I'm a neurotic Gaijin whose attention tends to wander a bit. I'm signing up for private lessons with a local instructor.

We then went along the coast for a little bit. It was really, really windy! I always thought that Hiroshige and Hokusai made
use of artistic license when rendering the colours of the ocean in their woodblock prints, but that is not the case at all!
The camera just doesn't do it justice. I've never seen shades of blue like that anywhere else. There were also tidepools, and
I spent some happy time poking defenseless marine life with a stick. Well, not poking, maybe prodding. Gently! I also learned
that my husband has an aversion to sand. I can't figure that out at all. He must have been molested by a sandcastle in his
youth.

Then we went searching for the lighthouse. We missed it the first time, because it's...well, it's in some guy's backyard, more
or less. I was very excited about the lighthouse. I wanted to hug it, too.

Contact Sheet 1
Contact Sheet 2
Contact Sheet 3
Contact Sheet 4

And finally, Kelly learned all about poop, but got annoyed when Nic and I corrected his mis-pronounciation of "nematode." Oh, and Lue, if Nic asks you to bring a roll of tape to bed...RUN AWAY.

It's been a rough stretch at work, so our fearless leaderette, Aimee, managed to score us an early dismissal,
so our shop could do some morale building. We went bowling! I have never been bowling before.
I bowled two games. I got a 57 and a 68.
I also bowled with an 11 pound ball (I didn't realize it), so now the tendonitis in my elbows is acting up,
but I don't care. I had a great time! Sorry for the small pix, I have to keep in mind my server space quota.
If you are featured in a picture and would like a (bigger) copy, let me know.

MARCH 31, 05
ME, NEW AND IMPROVED (OR AS GOOD AS IT GETS, NOT NECESSARILY IMPROVED LOTS)

No, it's not a wig. It really is my hair. It just looks scarily like a wig, it is such a perfect haircut. The highlights are a sunny blonde, a color which doesn't show well in the picture. Trust me. It looks great. Lots of depth of color.
I love the Japanese hair salons.

The big pin is what I refer to as "granny bling"--big (tacky) vintage brooches. It's a phase I'm going through.
Also, while self-portraiture is fun, but I need to remember to take off my glasses and put on some freakin' makeup.

Today my boss Aimee and I were discussing boobs. Aimee is smart, pretty, slender and to add insult to injury, she has a huge rack. Due to a 14 pound weight loss (mostly in the chestal region, I find that I have only a spice shelf. When I mentioned my lack of boobage, Aimee said "They may be small, but they're mighty!" which I found hilarious. So I've included a pic of the SBMB.