Who knew salads could cause so much trouble?

Last Friday I brought a salad for lunch. But actually, I bring a salad pretty much everyday to lunch. If any American saw my salads they would think nothing of them, because they're large and full of protein--beans, tofu, beans and more beans. Plus all kinds of other stuff. Anyways, I'm not eating them because I'm on a "diet", I eat them because I don't like eating meat and I hate preparing it even more, and I happen to really, really like vegetables. Anyhow, telling a Japanese person that is like talking to a brick wall. Lettuce translates to starvation diet. And the more lettuce there is, the more you're starving yourself. I remember one time I brought raw green beans to work (so yummy!) and was about to put one in my mouth when the person sitting next to me gasped in horror. She wanted to warn me that I was about to eat a raw vegetable. I told her it was alright, I did it all the time, and I even tried to get her to try one. She politely refused, saying she only ate cooked vegetables. Shouldn't be surprising since most people here actually peel their grapes before eating. Anyways, I digress.
So last Friday I had eaten my salad and was licking my chops when up walks the Principal. He looks like he has something serious to talk about, and in very broken English asks if he can sit down. I say dozo and then he starts making his hand jump around like a frog and says, April-san, you eat like (hand-frog-waving-motion)! I'm utterly perplexed and so I say, I eat like a frog? No! he says, and then thrusts a piece of paper with the word "grasshopper" written on it. Like this! he says. You need meat! I try to conceal my laughter. Oh, naruhodo, I say. You're shape is fine, he continues, beginning to look embarrassed, so try to take some meat! Rather than go into a lengthy discourse about how usually meat grosses me out I just say, Okay.
But speaking of meat, I actually ate beef when Sarah King and I went for our kaiseki riyouri the other night. Everything else was so freakin awesome that I figured it would be blasphemous for me to pass on the main course. And you know what, it was damn good. I'll post some pictures from that most fabulous 9 course meal soon.

Smog, Newsom and Kafka

Thanks to my friend Bob (that's Bob from Gunma, not to be confused with Bob from Accounting) I got to go see Smog and Joanna Newsom last night in Tokyo for free. Bob wrote in a drippingly sweet and sentimental postcard about how he desperately wanted to see Newsom and in returned received an invite (plus 1) to see her and Smog put on a small show/recording at an NHK sound studio. The venue was small and intimate, normally good things, but add a bunch of over-polite Japanese and you get some odd results. For example, Smog commented that this was the first show he had ever played where he could actually hear the rustling of people's pants. Then there was that funny part where Bob opened his Coke bottle and loud fizzing resulted, which made literally everyone in the room look at him, but luckily we could all laugh. Not so funny was when I choked on my own spit (I swallowed and it went down the wrong way) and drew everyone's attention with my hideous hacking. All and all though it was great to see both of them, Smog was really good and had some surprising dance moves, and Joanna Newsome was, well, just too cute.
And on the train I finished Murakami's newest feat Kafka on the Shore. Really, really good. Still don't get it, but I'm working on it.

The Pressure's On

Aside from the fact that I was mercilessly made fun of at karate last night, I had a really good class.
First, all the little kids got on me for not closing my eyes during the beginning prayer. Those little toots, they're always more than happy to point out when I'm doing something wrong or kick me in the butt, but when I tell them they've got a booger hanging out of their nose it's like saying their cat died or something.
Then, the master of the dojo, Oomori-sensei (who's like a Go-don black belt...if you don't know what that means then think about it this way, he could take Rambo blindfolded) started making fun of me because I'm by far the oldest white belt, and in Japanese he was like, it's sooo lame to be a white belt past the age of 7.
And then, when we were working on our punching and kicking, all of which originate out of this very difficult squatting position, Oomri-sensei starting giving me a bunch crap about sticking out my butt when I do it. I was like, sorry, not everyone can be a Go-don black belt with thighs of steel like you, I'm sticking my butt out cuz I'm a white belt who can't squat for over a minute without doing that.
But after that he personally instructed me for the rest of the class. And I pretty much have got down the two katas (sort of like a karate dance) I have to know for my green belt test! That's mostly because he made me do each one about 20 times. Now if I can just remember them and stop sticking out my butt...

Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes...Knees and Toes!

Those would be a start to some of the places I have been bitten by the ultra-guerilla, ultra-vicious wickedly evil mosquitoes bent solely on my destruction. Then there's my fingers, forehead, heels, and ears. Yes, I was bitten on the top of my ear by one of these sadistic fuckers. It's like they're not even after blood, because they're avoiding the juiciest places (thighs and ass) and instead it's like they're biting me in the worst places out of pure malice.
I haven't had a decent night sleep in weeks because as soon as the lights go out (apparently they operate only in the dark, leaving me in peace during the day, hiding and planning their nighttime raids) they start attacking. I'm tormented by their whiny little buzz while I try to sleep; the same buzz that alerts me to their presence, but alas, as soon as I switch on the light the crafty sonsabitches have hidden. And I'm not kidding, they're hiding. I've found them under my bed table, in the ceiling corner and even on dark splotches on my maps.
It's as if the colder weather has made them desperate; they know it's only a matter of time before the first freeze takes them out so there's no point in "fattening up for the winter" with blood from the juicy places; no, they've decided if they're goin' out, they're goin' out blastin.

The Benefit of being a 15-year-old Japanese Boy...

...is that you can pull off haircuts that only a 15-year-old Japanese boy can. For instance, in one of my classes today there was this kid who had a slight modification to his mullet, which made it totally awesome, and me quite jealous. (I was actually thinking of taking a picture of his hair, then going to have Sarah cut it for me, when I realized that it just wouldn't look the same on a 23-year-old gaijin girl.) So yes, he had one of the ubiquitous Rod Stewart-mullets, but it was like a half mullet. The hair on one-side of his head was really short, and on the other it was quite grown out. It looked quite punk-rock, especially for a 15-year-old boy who had just written his name tag with purple and pink markers. The gender-bending here is apparently unbreakable.

Chou annoyed!!!

Arrrgh! I've been trying to edit the footage I took while home to show to my kids for ages, but I've been experiencing one technical mishap after another. First I had a shit editing program, so I had to get a new one. Not such a big deal, a friend gave me a copy of Adobe Premier, but his copy is only good for 30 days b/c the crack didn't work right...Then I thought I was ready to begin, but turns out I needed a FireWire cable. So today after school I went to K's Denki and bought the cable. But when I got home I realized it's the wrong one, so I went immediately back to K's and picked up (or so I thought) the right one. Well, then I get home and I'm rubbing my hands together and happy that I'm finally going to be able to get started. But then to my horror I pull out the cable and it's the same one I just exchanged!?!?! The stupid b*@$!tch at K's slipped the wrong m-ner-f-in cable in my bag. If I could speak Japanese I would call K's and tell those crack heads to come and deliver the right cable to my door, but alas, I can't, so instead I just get to bitch about it on my blog. Which I hate doing b/c the reason I hate blogs in the first place is b/c they're always so damn bitchy.
Thank God I have karate in an hour; running around with little kids and squatting until I get dizzy is the only sure fire thing that will calm me down and help me realize it was an honest mistake and I'll get the right cable tomorrow and then encounter yet a new obstacle in this video editing process. Gods of Technology be damned!

Pictures from Vietnam

Soon to be followed by more length impressions...Don't hold your breath though.

Me and the guides (the on the right spoke really good Japanese). HCMC.

Halong Bay

Small islands, Halong Bay.

Islands, Halong Bay. Halong Bay is a Unesco World Heritage site and has over 3000 small islands, many of which have incredible limestone caves inside. On my tour of the Bay I went inside two of the bigger caves.

Heading out to Halong Bay

Couple by the lake, Old Quarter, Hanoi

Night market, Hanoi. Seemed to be loads of Vietnamese people everywhere sitting around and looking very ungainfully employed.

"...and God looked upon her with favor..." Uh, yeah, me inside one of the limestone caves in Halong Bay.

War monument, Hanoi

Flag tower, Hanoi.

People relaxing by the lake, Old Quarter, Hanoi.

Dave and I outside our rockin' Chinese hotel in Hoi An.

Market, Hoi An.

Hoi An at night. Apparently the thing to do is sit on your motorbike and clog up the street.

Children in dragon costume to celebrate the Children's Festival, Hoi An. Tons of kids paraded in and out of shops and restaurants in dragon costumes; they danced around and attempted (usually unsuccessfully) to get money from the shop owners.

Men playing Chinese board game, which was really popular all over Vietnam.

Mushrooms and spices, Chinese market, Saigon.

Spices. Ginger perhaps. Chinese market, Saigon

Chinese market, Saigon.

Lots of shoes, Chinese market, Saigon.

Red chairs outside the Reunification Palace, Saigon.

Really friendly school kids, Saigon. We were amazed at how genki everyone in the South seemed to be to speak English. Kids would literally run up to us and ask basic questions, name, age, etc...

Ho Chi Minh's Uncle, Saigon

Dave and I had guides take us around Ho Chi Minh City. They were funny, if a bit crude, and very knowledgeable. The best way to see Saigon in a day.

Vintage Gucci!!

Had a great time in Mito this weekend with Sarah and company (Aurelien, Mark, Jade). On Sunday I met Sarah at a thrift store and picked up some killer pieces that Sarah spotted for me, one of which is this totally mod-vintage Gucci dress. It's black and gold and 100 percent bling. And, it was only 5000-yen. I also got this adorable jacket that has a picture of a panda with headphones on and beneath the picture is written, "Pandasonic: For music lovers." Kawaii desu ne.
Aurelien (who I think has finally forgiven me for making my lame French joke, "the only French I know is 'Oohun-hun-huuun'") came over and we all started drinking Franzia at 5. Then Sarah made us dinner and after dinner we headed to a cute bar, where we classily switched to bottled of wine. Then it was off to nomihodai karaoke, which is always so much fun at the time...but damn was I hurting all day today.