Always Late to the Party

Because your time management skills lie somewhere between the next KDrama on youtube/dramafever and the adorable/possibly horrifying thing your cat just did to a plant. So how do you manage your time responsibly in order to validate your claims of adulthood and keep yourself fed and sheltered? Sadly, this answer is different for everyone. What works for one person will probably make another throw themselves out a window. At least in my experience with windows. Luckily I live on the ground floor so it's not too much effort to get back in the chair after. So, suggestions from your friendly neighborhood editor: 1. Make a time schedule. Have a loved one/friend/enemy/app bludgeon you over the head with a club every time you fail to meet it. Or you know, just set an alarm for when you can start writing and a gentler alarm for when you can stop, so that it won't interrupt you when you're in the zone but you can still force yourself to stare at the screen in despair without looking at the time every five seconds to see when you can stop now. Key point: make it a reasonable amount of time. Start slow, and gradually increase based on your expected output. Read: don't kill yourself by trying to sit for eight hours on your first day at the computer/typewriter/notebook. Also schedule breaks if you're blocked. Like five minutes to get up and walk around and bang your head against a wall before sitting back down and banging your head against the desk. Whatever works for you. Pros: Provided you can keep with it, you'll eventually turn it into a habit, and I hear once it becomes a habit you look forward to it every day. You learn to love it. Like Stockholm Syndrome but for writing. Cons: Not everyone can handle a set schedule. Because real life. And also having a system and order and organization can give some people hives. 2. Make a word count schedule. Have a set number of words you want to accomplish in a day, and do. In blood if you have to. Preferably someone else's, but I'm not here to judge your hobbies. Again, same as above, start slow. Don't give yourself a 40k word schedule and expect to not stab yourself in the eye within the first 5k. In fact, depending on your self-expectations, you should seriously consider what you believe you're capable of, and gradually increase that. Going over is fine, going under is okay once in a while. However if you find that after a week you're meeting your word count by ending every paragraph "I hate the world kill me please I hate the world kill me please I hate the world kill me please" it's okay to regress to a smaller word count. Seriously, don't kill yourself. You want to make a living as a writer, or you just want to grow as a writer, either way it won't happen if you're dead. Unless ghosts can write but until I see evidence of that my authors are not allowed to try it, and you shouldn't either. Pros: You can actually include this with the time schedule once Stockholm Syndrome sets in. Also, meeting this goal gives you a daily sense of accomplishment that you can carry into the next day, even if your notebook is filled solely with "oh god why is this happening to me" 5,000 times. Cons: Sometimes you look at a set goal of words and if feels like you're staring into the abyss and something is staring back in disgust. That's fine, by the way, everyone feels like that all the time--er, sometimes. Everyone feels that way sometimes. 3. Get out of your house for the love of all the gods. Sometimes, you just need a change of environment. This goes with the "what to do when words just come" issue as well. But if you find yourself struggling to meet your goals and especially your deadlines not because of internal distractions, but because of external ones, it might be a situational issue. And coffee shops are great places for writing. If you like coffee or tea. Otherwise, go where you know you can both focus and not hate your life. A park works for some people, if you enjoy being outside. A library if you need quite and to be surrounded by books. Wherever you can focus on your writing will work. Pros: No one asking you eighty million things because you work from home and don't actually do anything and of course you can bring your SO their forgotten EVERYTHING WHY CAN'T YOU KEEP TRACK OF YOUR OWN SHIT because you totally have time. Ahem. Cons: Yes, you have to leave your house and go into the scary world. I feel you. But sometimes it's for the best. You can do it. 4. Ask for an extension. Don't. Meet. Your. Deadlines. It's your job. Though sometimes, sometimes, only sometimes, life gets in the way. Hospital visits, death, illness (your own, your kids, your SO, your family, literally everyone carries the plague run away run away). For things like this, just like in a "real person" job (quotes because to hell with people that tell you that you don't have a real job), you can as for an extension if necessary. Depending on your publisher it's either not a big deal, or a huge deal, but most people who aren't machines on the inside will understand the occasional need for compassion. Only occasionally. Dog eat dog out there. 5. Anything else that will keep you on track. Like I said, not everything works for everyone. Maybe you have a different way to keep yourself on track. Maybe you do 1 and 2 but split them throughout the day rather than trying to work in a chunk. Maybe you have your own office in your house and it has sixteen deadbolts and soundproof walls god I'd kill for that. It's about what you can do, not what works for other people. How you keep your life on track without derailing into cat videos--in general. Every once and a while cat videos are acceptable. So, what works for you? Any of these? None of these? Comments are always welcome.

Why Would I Need an Editor I'm Perfect and Shit Rainbows

No, no you are not God. No, really, even I'm appalled at how often I'm told this. If you're a self-publishing author, then your options are far greater, or much more limited, versus your Big 5 counterparts, depending on how you approach publishing. However one thing you should never skimp on (not tooting my own horn, you don't have to use me) is a professional or semi-professional pair of eyes. If you can't afford either of those, then at least use another set of eyes. Any other set of eyes. Preferably attached to a brain, but I'm not here to judge your hobbies. Your options are many. Here's some: 1. Another author: you can swap manuscripts and edit each other. 2. A friend: preferably one who understands basic grammatical rules. 3. A coworker: whom you bribe with lunches or sexual favors or whatever won't get you arrested. 4. A local homeless person: they'll work for food. Seriously, I've been a local homeless person and I have three degrees. They might surprise you. 5. Literally anyone who isn't you: because you are biased and your eyes are tired. You might not realize your eyes are tired, but honestly how many times have you already been through your manuscript? Hopefully more than three--please do at least three passes, please--and your eyes no longer register things like awkward dialogue or weird comma placement. For self-publishing authors, new authors, or even authors trying to break into "traditional" publishing, investing in your book will take you far. The three areas you should invest the most in if you're going non-traditional? Editing/proofreading, cover art, and marketing. That teacher that kept telling you never to judge a book by its cover? Probably had shitty covers. Everyone judges books by their covers. Well you know except blind people, so obviously not everyone. But you know what I mean. However everyone, everyone, will judge your contents. Especially if you mix up "then" and "than" or any of your you're their they're theres. Today's book options have exploded to the point that standards are much more lax, but that doesn't mean yours should be. It's your book, your story, your baby, give it some love. Not in a creepy way, but again, not here to judge your hobbies so whatever do what you want. And if no one knows your book exists, well, they can't exactly buy it, can they? Hence, marketing. For all three of these, if you can do the cover art and marketing yourself, and are willing to commit that kind of time and energy to your brand (and yes, an author who wants to make a living as an author will have to have a brand, hard truths are still truths), then go for it. But seriously contract out for the editing proofreading. Even if you think what you have is perfect, and you shit gold dust, and your farts are rainbow sprinkles, you need another set of eyes. Please for the love of all the gods you might possibly believe in get someone else besides you to read it before you hit that print button. Yes, there are some shady damn people out there, I'm one of them. Take all criticism with a grain of salt based on who is giving it and if they were able to understand your intent. But don't write them off completely. If they didn't understand something you felt you got across perfectly clear, maybe have someone else read it. If they also don't understand, the problem might not be with your readers. These things are painful, but have to be considered if you want to be successful. You can write the cleverest, most beautiful piece of prose in the history of the written language but if no one can understand what the hell you're talking about it does no one any good. Especially not you or your wallet.

Emails from Japan: Jun 27, 2010

Well hello. It has been a while. Like a year. Because my life is not only boring, but insanely busy lately. I was recently promoted from line editor to content editor at one of my publishing companies, and have been scrambling about like crazy trying to figure out what that means while still doing line editing for my other publishing company and of course teaching the little shits--er, adorable Japanese children in my schools.

So. My life...is much the same as whatever it was last time I wrote. I have a couple of adventures. I'll tell you a story.

I run every night. I don’t enjoy it, but I don’t want to be fat because I like cute clothes and it’s hard to find cute clothes in fat people sizes. Simple as that. I do like junk food. Especially sweets and chips and…well, junk food. But cake and ice cream and chocolate is high on my list of happy making necessities. And so. Running. Because dieting is absolutely out of the question.

Oddly enough, I can seem to have a steady running routine and not lose any weight. When I stop I gain weight, but I never seem to lose any. This is a quirk of my body that irritates me greatly, but it does not seem to care about the impact it has on my overall emotional well being. Which is probably also why it hates milk and orange juice. The bitch.

Anyway, I have been running now for about a year and half. I usually do about four and half kilometers, or a couple miles. The running part is actually only a mile and a half, I'm working up to two, and the rest is power walking. Followed by weights when I get back to my apartment. But I never stray too far away from my apartment, mostly because I like to be within easy returning distance should I decide I’m really not in the mood for exercise after all. It happens.

I frequently see other people out and about, some doing their own exercise, some walking their dogs, some just getting home from work or the store. I never have any trouble with them, we nod our heads at each other and offer a polite こんばんは (good evening) and go on our way, barely having paused.

So why then, lately, do people feel the need to interrupt my run to talk to me? Twice now strange Japanese men have stopped me and asked me if I’m free. Do I look free? I’m sweating, because I sweat—a lot. Really, I think my pores are connected to the oceans with how much I can sweat sometimes, it’s disgusting—and I’m redfaced, and my running clothes are usually puffy. It’s not sexy. Seriously. And I’m obviously in the middle of my exercise. They don’t go to the gym and stand in front of people on the treadmill and demand their attention, do they? No. Because it’s rude. Oh but wait, that’s right, I’m not Japanese, so to do it to me isn’t rude.

But that’s different story entirely.

No, I want to talk about the other night. Well. Bitch about it. I went running, as I usually do, and as sometimes happens I drew attention to myself, simply by the fact that I am quite obviously not Japanese and that I run at night because I have a deep aversion to daylight. Mostly the sun’s rays. I’ve attracted strange men before, one guy on bike followed me for half a block until I had to stop at a “Don’t walk” sign before he asked me if I could play with him. Here play can be a lot of things. I took it to mean all of them and pretended I didn’t speak Japanese. The other night though, the guy was an older gentleman and had a car.

He pulled alongside the road I was on and waited for me to catch up at the intersection. I had no idea what he was doing, but I figured he was probably staring at me since that’s what Japanese men in cars do. I nodded my head politely in a sort of non bow and went around his car, on my merry way. He followed me for half a block and then pulled over and called out to me. I figured I’d better just answer him so that he didn’t follow me to the next leg of my run, which would go through a dimly lit wooded area with probably no witnesses should he try to kill me. Though in that case it would have been me with the upper hand, since I would have a better shot at getting away with vengeful justice. Still. I figured better to not risk it.

I stop and say hi, and he asks me to talk to him for a while. He wants me to get in his car. Like that’s gonna happen. Ever. Even in the third safest country in the world I am not that completely stupid. He seemed to be offended by this, but I was adamant. He then wanted to know my phone number and address and where I was going, to which I replied of course, though I totally lied. Then he gave me his number and said I should call him so he could meet me at a restaurant and give me a present.

Yeah.

And he went away. I did not get in the car with a strange man—who didn’t even have candy! What the hell kind of stranger doesn’t even bring candy!?—and I managed to escape unscathed. Though he screwed to hell my usual routine, which pissed me off because it’s hard as hell to keep myself on track normally, I don’t need lonely old businessmen throwing me off my stride too.

Japan is a very friendly country. It really is. It’s full of friendly, polite people. Sometimes more polite than friendly, and sometimes more friendly than polite. It also has quite a few creepy-assed stalker freaks. And I seem to have the unfortunate habit of attracting all of them.

End story 1. Begin story 2.

Went to a small island out near a peninsula sort of near me -ish- with some friends. These people are members of a Facebook group called "Miyagi Outdoor Lovers." They're ALT friends of mine, but as you might guess if you know me, I am not remotely an outdoor lover and avoid nature at all costs. They talked me into this one because I'd been there before and thought it would be all right, plus there's a deserted beach nearby that I wanted to go to.

I had been sick for a week, I should mention. Like, I went to bed as soon as I got home from work sick. Death on a stick. I felt better the Friday before and that morning so thought it would be all right. Was not all right. Trekking uphill with a cough and a sinus headache on top of allergies = deathwish. Seriously. Down was all right. We got totally lost and ended up on an animal trail on the other side of the island, and followed that back to the ferry. It was an adventure, and I felt better at that point because we'd stopped for lunch and medicine.

Then the beach! First day at the beach this summer. Was awesome. Really FREAKING cold, but awesome. Went in shorts and a t-shirt because no swim suit, I always forget it, but meh, was fun. The waves were pretty big, we were sharing the beach with surfers, but they were nice enough to move off to one side and let the crazy gaijin (foreigners) swim around in their underwear.

There was a cave too! I like caves. In a small part kind of off to the side, behind some rocks, there was another mini beach with what looked like a totally awesome cave, and I tried to go there. The water got really deep though in the middle and deep ocean water scares me stupid, so I tried to go around that and ended up being smashed into rocks by the huge freaking waves. My hands are nicely shredded, along with my knees and a few toes.

Hahaha I hadn't actually told anyone that I was going to go exploring over there either, so they noticed me missing and thought I had drowned. Started yelling for me. I came back dripping wet and bleeding and got yelled at but good. I feel thwarted though, I really wanted to see that cave.

Anyway, it was an exhausting day, but I actually enjoyed it. Despite the part where nature touched me. ~shudders~

I am excited for summer vacation because I plan to go to Summer Sonic, a huge two day concert event with something like thirty bands in Tokyo. I'm only going for one day, because it's ridiculously expensive, but still excited. I may or may not write about how that goes. I fail at this keeping in touch thing. Hopefully my adventure stories will be enough to make you realize how over Japan I am getting. I am equally excited to be going home for good next April.

Aaaand that's all I got. Japan is getting increasingly creepier the more Japanese people get used to me. Though my students for the most part remain adorable. The end.

Emails from Japan: October 25, 2009

So. I'm not quite sure where I left off. Surely after summer and the Fuji fiasco, yes? If you were not aware I dragged my sorry fat ass up Mt. Fuji, tell me, and I'll happily bitch about the whole sorrily awesome odeal. But I'm pretty sure I already have. Since Fuji...

Ha. September was interesting. I was in Sendai every weekend at the beck and call of Liz and Kim, a set of pretty blond twins born to two different sets of parents. Not quite sure how they managed that, but it's remarkable to say the least. They kept me occupied and liqiudated, and September passed its merry way into October without me even realizing it. October came with my birthday, which I tried very hard to not acknowledge while at the same time forcing everyone I know to celebrate it with me. This was rather effective, though somehow I still did not get presents. Except from my mother. Thank you mommy!

Last weekend was a leaving party for Liz, who is abandoning her twin-that-isn't and escaping Japan for a two month tour of Australia and New Zealand--which I am insanely envious of and would like for her to make room for me in her suitcase--and then will be returning to Canada. May she have much luck, and not be eaten by ducks.

I had a dream where I was in a space ship that Captain Kirk rigged to explode and I died in a fireball of searing agony. That was new.

Went on a nature hike with my kindergarten students last week. You would not believe the amount of drama thirty kindergarteners can produce. It was like a midget soap opera. Only it involved me, outside, in the sun, in nature, with small children. It was like a recipe for nuclear destruction. Oddly, their little mini-sized freak outs kept me entertained enough that I didn't attempt to throw anyone into the river and see if they could float. Not that it would have mattered. You know they teach them to swim in kindergarten out here?

This week was the most interesting by far. My computer died. Utterly. Like, as in, it installed the latest version of iTunes, asked nicely if it could restart itself, and when I said okay sure it turned off and then forgot to turn back on again. Now when I turn it on the lights come on for a second, and in that second it thinks very very hard whether it really feels like functioning or not, and then flips me the bird and turns itself back off. This is evidently a problem with the model I have, and happy little HP tx1000, and according to Japanese tech support I need a new computer. So. While normally when at home I either read or watch US television online streaming to preserve what is left of my sanity, now all I have is reading, and the one book that a friend lent me just got finished the other day. So I am now going slowly insane. You know. More so.

I do have a little HP mini from the first time my fancy HP laptop crapped out, but my little mini can only do word processing and sometimes email. No video. It severely hates the internets, and I have to bribe it. And even then it takes about five minutes to load a page. No exaggeration. Literally five minutes. Sometimes three if it's in a good mood. If I'm not insane after running out of things to occupy my time, trying to get anything done online with this little bundle of fluffy joy will surely finish me off.

Ahem. End rant.

Got to play dodgeball with third graders. It was not pretty. You'd think if I can throw a nice punch I'd be able to throw a damn dodgeball. Ha. Yeah. Ha. At least I'm used to children laughing at me. My sixth graders brought me back a souvenir from their class trip though, which made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

My JHS's bunkasai, or culture festival, was today. It consisted of about five hours in the morning of singing. I got to hear the same three songs five times each. Then taiko drumming--which was really good, youtube taiko, it is win-- by seventh graders, dancing students in animal costumes, dancing teachers in skin tight frog costumes, students who removed more and more of their clothing as the day progressed, bathroom sex, and an emotional breakdown stage left. It was actually really fun. The second half. When all the interesting bits happened.

And now I am happily settled back in my apartment, eating a tuna melt that took me exactly six weeks to finally figure out how to cook without burning it to a crisp. Tomorrow is home standby, as today I had the bunkasai thing and since for the schools it's a working day they get Monday off to make up for having to go on the weekend. Which is nice of them.

It's finally starting to get chilly out this way. Still a little humid at times, but at night I actually need two blankets. No snow yet, probably not for a bit, but I can hope yeah? Has it snowed out y'all's way yet?

And that has been my life of late. How is everyone else?

Emails from Japan: August 25, 2009

I live! So far.

So. Early August. Ana, my neighbor, and I hitched a ride with our other neighbor's brother down to Tokyo, to pick up Ana's sister from the airport. We then made our way to a hotel in Shinjuku, and though exhausted from a seven hour drive for us and an eleven hour flight for her sister, we took a peek at a local festival before passing the fuck out.

Woke up early as hell to make the bus to Mt. Fuji on Sunday. Bus dropped us off at something like 11 or 12, we ate, which took nearly two hours because everyone and their freaking brother was there that day, then we headed up the mountain.

And I will just say that an eight hour hike up rocky steep assed hills sucks more ass than anything has any right to. It was raining like a raining beast. EVERYTHING got soaked, and that was through my rain gear. All my spare clothes in my backpack? Also drenched. Oh, that was pleasant.

Happily, we had a little tour ticket thing, so once we'd been going a little over two hours--which was a ridiculously short amount of time--we found the hut we were supposed to eat and sleep in before making our way the rest of the way up to the summit. Collapsed at like six because that first two hours was god awful. Though pretty much, compared to the rest, a cakewalk. Woke up at 9:30 and piddled around before heading out. The rain had stopped, but our clothes were still damp/wet/nasty.

Had to do some pretty strenuous hiking/climbing/ground hugging in some parts. And then there were places with like eight tour groups all jam packed together and it took forever to get anywhere. Which was a happy pace for me. Eventually, once the paths evened out to just gravel and rock and crap, we sort of were trudging along like zombies with everyone else on the mountain. It sucked ass. And it got freaking cold, what with all my shit being soaked still, and not able to dry. But. We made it!

Saw sunrise. Was pretty. Took pictures. Came down.

Down was almost as fun as up, what with all the loose gravel and shit. And the one point where we went down the wrong path and had to backtrack half an hour back up the freaking mountain which I pretty much despised at this point. We made it down in one piece, though because there were no vendors or anything on our route down I had run out of water about two hours before we hit the bottom. I was ready to just throw myself off the nearest cliff, I was so thirsty. Though pretty much I was ready to throw myself off the nearest cliff for the entire climb. When I finally got ahold of a vending machine I downed like three bottles of water. Oh that was special.

Then our bus took us to an onsen, which was awesome, considering how tired and sore and nasty we were. Though because all of our spare clothes were still damp and gross, we didn't exactly have anything to wear after getting clean that wasn't dirty in some way. But we figured to hell with it. Then we went home. Via shinkansen because when you're that tired? Money ceases to be a factor in anything. Sadly.

And I was evidently so exhausted that I slept until 5 in the PM the next day.

Also. My face looked like overcooked lobster. I put sunscreen on when we started up Fuji on Sunday, but it was raining and cloudy and then nighttime, so the sun never got to me. On the way down it was clear and lovely and hot as hell, and the sun he got me good. Only my face though, since the rest of me was covered. At least I partly defied him!

A couple days later we headed up to Aomori.

Anyway. Long assed train ride, delay at the end resulting in yet another freaking shinkansen. How many is that in the last two months alone? Enough to make me cry.

The parade for Nebuta was cool though. Two of the dancers threw me bells, which was cute. Also got to wear a yukata (summer kimono) for the first time, which was a pain and a half to put on and walk in, but several nice Japanese ladies helped me out with it.

And then we went to an internet cafe to sleep for the night, because there were no hotels available. Woke up in the worst mood ever the next day. Took three cups of coffee and an onsen to make me sociable again. Then we ate, got beer, and headed for the fireworks.

Fireworks were pretty. Not a lot of wind, so they had to frequently pause and wait for the smoke to blow away. At the finale it was so cloudy and the smoke was just hanging there, they had no choice but to do it anyway. It was still cool, but it was sad we couldn't see most of it.

And then we were back at the internet cafe. Had to leave suck ass early to catch our train the next day. Twelve hours on trains, maybe more. Crashed as soon as I got home.

The next weekend I went out with a couple girls I know and one got so wasted she started a bar fight. That was exciting. Happily the bartenders were content with throwing her out rather than calling the police, so I avoided having to flee from the law.

And then I had no more money. At all. Been living off of ramen noodles. I love ramen noodles.

And that was my summer vacation. Now I'm back to school. Which is sad making. Alas. Had my yearly health checkup at a local clinic today, where the doctor happily spoke English pretty well and no needles were involved, so I didn't have to resort to violence.

And that's all I got. The end.

Emails from Japan: July 19, 2009

I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! Though it was touch and go for a while, what with all my suicide attempts. Alas, I'm too lazy to even kill myself. I just can't be bothered. Ah well.

Fact #147 of living in a box in Japan:

I frequently shower with my clothes because my shower room is also my dryer.

So.

Went home in May for my little sister's high school graduation. It was nice to be home again, even if my space has been invaded on the level of rape, dear family wtf. :D I enjoyed having a real bed for a while. Gods, I miss my bed sometimes. And like, a dryer. And food. Ah, foooooooooood.

Earlier this month... or last month? Meh, some point. Took a drive with a bunch of folks to Kinkazan, a pretty little island thingy. Took a ferry out to it, was attacked by seagulls. Then got to hike up a steep hill, look at a shrine, and hike back down because we got there late and the last ferry back only left us an hour. Was pretty, but lame. Would like to go again with more, like, time. To explore and stuff. Want to see monkeys. MONKEYS REED.

When we left we had two more people in our party, so Ana's poor Suzuki Wagon R was carrying six people up hills, and it did not like that. But it tried hard. Poor little car. Then we went to the nifty lookout point that overlooks Kinkazan or however the hell you spell it, and played on the Nazi training ground. Was slightly painful, but fun. Went there last year with Reed too, if it sounds familiar to anyone. After that we drove to a scary abandoned creepy building surrounded by a creepy forest and hiked down to a tiny deserted beach which was gorgeous but freezing and proceeded to try to give ourselves (me, my other personalities, and some friends that actually exist outside my head) hypothermia. Was fun.

And then I was exhausted and went to bed.

Fun fact #37:

My toilet doubles as a sink.

Happy late 4th for anyone who celebrates it.
Went to a bbq on the beach and had some fireworks and beer--I did not get drunk! I didn't even drink but maybe one, go me!--and stripped down to our underwear and went swimming in the middle of the night in the ocean. Well, I did, and this one little Japanese guy that was with us did. And Ana of course. No one else really seemed to be as fond of the ocean as we were. But it was way fun. :D And no, I don't need to be drinking to do stupid stuff like that, is not the first time I've stripped down and jumped in the water. I have a crush on the ocean, when it's not trying to kill me.
Anyway. Got bitten by like eighty billion random bugs and probably have larvae in my skin. Blah. But. Had fun. ^.^

Had my first concert in Japan on the 11th. YAY GACKT!!! +D

I shall start with the random strange thing that happened in my little town, that has never happened to me before ever. I was talked into wearing a concert cute outfit, which is less jeans and comfort and more hey look at me I'm hot, but I hid it under a hoodie for the train ride. Still, passing a guy on the way to my train station in Yamoto, I smiled at him because he was looking at me and I smile at everyone I make eye contact with, just because I feel I have to or they'll know I plot their death. Is habit. He followed me to the train station.

Oh, oh I didn't even believe it. At first, he was like, "asobo? play play," and I was like "sorry dude you're cute but young and I'm on the way to Sendai." I just said Sendai though, since he probably didn't speak much English. I thought it was cute he was flirting with me, since Japanese boys are usually scared away by my aura of death. Or something. But then? Then he looked around all furtive like, and in this really shyly earnest voice said "sex? s-s-sex?" And I was all "...wut?" I didn't even know what to do because of the way he was asking. My brain shut down from shock. In the states I would have removed his testicles with a spork, but I was just so surprised it resulted in total brain death. I said Sendai again, smiled and pointed to the train station, and he was like "chotto dake, chotto dake" which means "just a little" and I'm not too sure I know what just a little sex is, but I said no and then APOLOGIZED because he looked like he was going to cry and it was just the weirdest thing ever.

And then I went to Sendai.

So, I decided to take a shinkansen since I like to spend money when I don't have any, and that way I got to sleep in and take a shower and take my time and not hate my life the universe and everything. I figured it'd be a nice change yeah? And it was good.

Got to Saitama early, and found the arena the concert would be in relatively quickly, since it's huge and right by the train station and there was a fuck ton of people there. I had nothing to do while I waited for the arena to open so I got in the FREAKING HUGE ASSED LINE for the little Gackt shop, and that killed a lot of time. I got a t-shirt. I likes it. +D

Then went in. The concert was AWESOME. I adore and wish to marry You, the rhythm guitarist/violinist. And maybe Gackt too if he'll come along. It was totally fantastically amazing and that's all I can really say. It was amazing. I had a blast. Seriously I can't even say. The only thing that would have been more awesome would have been actually meeting the band, but considering the vocalist (that would be Gackt) nearly passed out twice and actually passed out once during his performance, I figured they wouldn't be doing anything like that. So I exited and followed the crowd.

I meandered lost and alone--because I did this whole thing by myself, give a huzzah for independence! and then burn it 'cause I'm lonely--around Saitama and the arena, then when there were no more buses or shinkansens (bullet trains) that would take me home, as the concert lasted nearly five hours oh my gods was I tired, I went back to the main train station in Saitama and wandered around. This area was much creepier and skeezier than it was by the arena, by the way. But! I found an internet cafe, and there I sat, waiting for the trains to start up again in the morning. My chair was very comfy, I got free drinks, and I only had to pay ten bucks for five hours. Is teh win, ya? Except the air conditioner wouldn't turn off and I froze my ass off until it was time to go.

Slept 'til 4, then went to McDonald's to wait for the shinkansens to start running.

And then and then and then? At the McDonald's before I caught my shinkansen home this weird creepy old man sat down at my table and started talking to me and saying random things about my eyes and he bought me coffee and he wandered around and touched random girls but always came back to my table (probably because I was the only one by myself) and I ran away to catch my train and he HUGGED ME IT WAS SO CREEPY. I'm never leaving my house again. Ever.

Recovering from that weekend took an entire week. Seriously, I was so tired.

Then this weekend went to a birthday party on Friday and at some point lost my car key. Don't know how, as it was on my key ring, and it was the absolute only thing that wasn't in my purse on Saturday morning. So someone if you can explain how a car key can pull itself off a key ring and then jump out of my purse, I'd appreciate it. Really. I totally freaked out though, because my spare key was in my glove compartment. In my locked car. Because, as I've said all along, I'm brilliant that way. Seriously.

Seriously, I say seriously a lot. Seriously.

Got my car open!

Emailed my company, got no reply. Called my company's representative that's supposed to help in these situations. His number is no longer valid, or some such thing. Thanks for passing that along in case of emergencies there, so kind of you. Called the independent contractor to ask about locksmiths. Not really supposed to go directly to them, supposed to have the company contact them, will probably get in trouble. Fuck the company and their many ways of fail. Still. He doesn't get paid when I go to him directly.

He called the JAF, which is like the Japanese AAA. Without shiny member card would cost about $125 for them to open my car. Shit a chicken. Went to the train station to see if anyone had found my key. IC guy came with me because he's awesome that way. Train station man called around but no one had it. Said to try a service gas station, that they might be cheaper than the JAF. Had to wait an hour, so bought IC guy of win coffee. They couldn't do it, because my car is too new and the alarm system too complicated. Said to try the dealer.

Remembered, because I am retarded genius, that the place that services my car and changes the tires for me is actually supposed to be able to do stuff like this when I get in trouble, without my paying. That that's part of my rental agreement. Feel very stupid. IC guy takes me there, they follow us back to my apartment. They can't do it either, but they have the JAF card of shininess and call JAF. Had to wait an hour again. Awkward. JAF man comes. Inserts flimsy hundred yen (one dollar) folder and a little metal thing, takes all of three seconds, and opens my car.

Three seconds that would have cost me $125 had I been any more stupid this weekend. Fuck you, Japan.

I am happy. I have my key and can use my car. My pretty key with automatic unlock and lock button is gone forever, but at least I can still get into my car and like, drive and stuff. I say thank you about eighty thousand times to everyone, especially IC guy of awesome and win.

Am happy again.

The End.

Emails from Japan: March 24, 2009

Hello my dear little creme puffs!

In Tokyo. Took a seven hour bus ride to get here. Cramped. Stale air. Pleasant and wonderful. But! Am in Tokyo. At an internet cafe by Kanda Station, where I stayed with my prof and fellow students last... last last year? Yeah, last last year. We're waiting for my favorite breakfast nook to open. I've been wanting to eat there again ever since I left. I'm so excited.

No really. I am.

Then we're going to Disney Sea! Which would be more exciting I suppose if I had slept better? Maybe. Or something.

The girl I'm traveling with hasn't forced me to kill her yet, but I'm thinking it may be sooner rather than later. I just don't travel all that well, especially when I have no opportunity to escape into my own space. And on this trip I will have none whatsoever. We're staying in a couple of dormitories and hostels to keep cheap, and the two hotels we do get are twin rooms. There is no escape from her. I may kill and eat her. I just have that problem when I spend an extended period of time in anyone's company. I still love you though, Ana!

It pisses me off no end that the apostrophe is shift 7 on this computer.

Also. No wait! I will get my own room in Osaka! I forgot. We're staying at a capsule hotel the 27th. A really nice one. I am excited about that. It has a free sauna and stuff, though I'm not sure if girls can use it. Cross your fingers for me.

Anyway. That's pretty much all I got. I've only just started. Maybe I'll get to another internet cafe at some point to keep people that care updated. Like, well, my mother. She cares. No one else probably does, but you get to hear about it anyway because you bastards should suffer with me. +D

Y'all know I love you.

And I'm done. Oh wait!

And then zombies attacked and everybody got ate.

The end.