I want to ride my bicycle

On my bike ride home today, I:

1. realized that I love biking into falling cherry blossom petals
2. almost made a little kid fall off his bike (would have made my day)
3. saw a very short Japanese man, noticed he was walking funny, and realized his shoes were platformed. This reminded me of something a tall friend once told me. Apparently you have to watch out for short men because you never know what they might do to "even the playing field." Food for thought.
4. was snarled at by a group of small boys, which brought back elementary school flashbacks of being made fun of for being American, being called a "giant," and being constantly poked and prodded with rulers because my classmates wanted to compare the lengths/heights of our foreheads, noses, and eyelashes. Also, I've never actually been snarled at before by anything other than dogs, cats, and small rodents.
5. smelled dinner cooking in almost every home I passed, which is something I love about biking here at this time of day.

Mayra's Japanese word of the day is gaijin, which literally translated means "outsider," but is often used slangily (Whether or not this is a word is up for debate, since it's on dictionary.com, but blogspot puts a little red line under it. On the other hand, the word "blogspot" also has a little red line under it.) to refer to foreigners (pronounced guy-jean). I was--and still am--often called this by children (loudly) as well as adults (when they think I can't hear them).

someone somewhere

I'm finding that trying to figure out storage for my possessions from across the ocean is a near-impossible feat. Between the time change and trying to coordinate three different people (brother to move stuff, friend with truck, people with storage space), I'm feeling a little helpless. It's times like these when a little extra money would be nice. Imagine renting out a proper storage space and hiring real life movers. In all my years of moving houses and hopping across oceans and whatnot, I've never had anyone move me. In fact, when my family moved into our current house in Tokyo, we had to move out the current owners, as they had procrastinated, and then gone out of town right during our move-in date (don't ask, I have no good explanation for this). Maybe it's just a pipe dream, but someday when I have a little extra cash, I plan to move for the sole purpose of hiring movers and watching the whole process unfold before my eyes without having to lift a finger. I would never have to say good bye to a beloved couch again.

On another note, my parents are home, and I promised to properly introduce them. As my ancient laptop is currently on a photo embargo, I will not include a picture. However, my father and mother have safely arrived home from their trip to Hawaii. My father Tim (age 53) and I immediately got into a discussion about my love of red wine. I pointed out that Jesus drank wine, therefore it is biblical. He still expressed some disapproval, so I imagine he assumes I don't have the self-control that Jesus did. My dear mother Katie (age unknown) then entered the kitchen and told me if "all you're doing is talking to your dad," then could I please refill the dog food. Because we all know dog food is a much higher priority than father-daughter bonding (don't worry, Mom, I know you didn't mean it like that--oh yes, my parents have discovered my blog).

Mayra (do you love that no matter what you're always going to get mentioned every time I write something?), your Japanese word of the day is okureru (oh-coo-reh-roo), which means, to be late, or "I'm going to be late." Yes, you guessed it, I'm about to be late for a lunch date.

that's more like it

It's about that time of year when the bamboo shoots in my yard start to spring up everywhere, breaking through the concrete walk, as well as anything else that gets in their way. They grow so quickly that you can practically watch them shoot up. This got me thinking about bamboo torture, so of course I googled it, like I do everything. While I couldn't find a definitive source on whether this form of torture was actually used, I did find the mythbusters episode proving it to be possible.

On another note, my adventure today was almost thwarted by the universe. But then I remembered that I'm Emma, and rain does not hinder my adventures, it is often the impetus behind them. So I braved the elements, hopped on a bike (unfortunately the only one I was able to unlock was my Dad's fold-up one, which made me feel like a very large child, and elicited more than a few stares), and pedaled down to the train station.

I spent the next hour meandering around the nearest department store, shamelessly accepting anything offered to me for free (iced tea, coffee, ring cleaning). In one import store, amid the anchovy sauce (ew) and liverwurst, I discovered a rare gem: Kraft Mac 'n' Cheese. For $3. Which, unfortunately was about what I paid for my short coffee at Starbucks. The upside was that it was my first time EVER to be served coffee at Starbucks in a real mug. I don't know if I just look like the paper cup type or what, but in all my years, I've never even been offered one.

Mayra, your Japanese word of the day is jitensha (bicycle). I would teach you the word for fold-up bicycle, but I'm pretty sure you would just give up before you even tried to pronounce it.

I'll never be a (successful) housewife

After spending much of the day cleaning, folding laundry, and cooking, I feel...domesticated. Tomorrow I need to go have an adventure. Preferably one that does not involve almost falling off of my bicycle on the way to the grocery store, burning my hand on a waffle iron multiple times, or accidentally scattering dog food across the just-cleaned kitchen floor because I stubbed my toe on the food dish. Maybe tomorrow will be a day without personal injuries.

Mayra's Japanese word of the day: daijoubu (Okay, fine, safe. Daijoubu? as a question would mean Are you okay?).

P.S. I'm looking for a new hobby and am now accepting suggestions.

so live your life

Somehow I wound up at that street again, the one where time stands still, the black hole, the magnetic field which only attracts freckles or the red pigment in hair (which would explain why this street is always deserted). My instinct was to run down it again, but I followed my better judgment (not a frequent occurrence these days), and turned off before it was too late. Turns out this was an act of fate, because down that glorious side street sat a kebab truck. In MY neighborhood?? I have no idea where it parks once it's open, but one of these days, I plan to drive down there in one of those stake out vans (or probably the miniature silver box car with the sewing machine engine that I've been driving) with a pair of binoculars and some string cheese and follow it so I can have me some delicious kebab. Side-note on my run: I swear I saw a piece of dog poop on the street today just spontaneously turn over. Maybe I'm hallucinating again.

In any case, all of that is besides the point. Today I'd like to introduce you to the cast of My Life These Days (not to be confused with Days Of Our Lives, or DOOL, as some fondly refer to it).

Meet Bella, the youngest character, age 1 (right).
I've been here four days, and in that short time, she has managed to: eat her own poop, bat my hair with her paws, attempt to EAT my hair, yank my earphone out as I was doing push-ups, and attack my face (this one may or may not have been provoked).
Kiwi (the mother, age 3, left) has licked the inside of my mouth (without consent), sat on my sweater and growled anytime I tried to take it away and put it on, and walked across my laptop keyboard several times, resulting in some strange facebook misunderstandings.
Note: it seems my camera lacks the green-eye reduction feature.

This is Caroline, age 17, junior in high school (human). So far since I've been here, she has made me eat vegetables with dinner (half a cucumber, with the end still attached), used me as her chauffeur twice, told me to get a life countless times, and has made me transform her into Bella (the Twilight character, not the dog) for a school fashion show. This involved straightening her not inconsiderable amount of hair, as well as letting her ransack my wardrobe, because "Bella wears boring clothes, Emma. I need something boring."

Last but not least, is Kat, age 20 (picture not available). I tutored her last fall in Brea, and now she is somehow living with my family in Tokyo. Bizarre? Slightly. Do I mind? No, since yesterday she told me I have a pretty face.

Soon to rejoin the cast of My Life These Days are The Parents. Stay posted for upcoming episodes.

Mayra, your Japanese word of the day is something I yell at my dogs quite often. Uruse (ooh-roo-say, make sure to roll the r a little), loosely translated, "Shut up!!" Now THAT'LL come in handy at Starbucks.

where the streets have no names

As I rounded the corner I saw a street that looked strangely familiar and thought, "hmmm...pretty sure I've been lost on this street before." Except that it was two years ago, pitch dark, pouring rain, and I ended up hitching a ride with an electrician who passed by in his work van, no doubt on his way to a late appointment. Now THERE'S something that you probably shouldn't try in LA. Well apparently time and experience have improved me, and this time I made it home safely. I terrified myself a little when I got home and saw my reflection in the glass of my front door. Crazy Mad Hatter hair, without the hat to cover it (sidenote: does it seem like there are a lot of semi-crazies with bad red hair? The Mad Hatter, Carrot Top, Ronald McDonald. Coincidence?) This reminded me of a strange experience I had in downtown Tokyo several years ago. I was walking back to the train station after taking my laptop in to get repaired, minding my own business, when a man (in my mind he was a deranged escapee of some underworld asylum), runs up to me, messes up my hair with both his hands, yells "I'm sorry!" in Japanese, then promptly runs off in the opposite direction, leaving me with crazy hair and the stares of about a hundred onlookers who were looking at me with bewildered expressions as though somehow I had done something to bring this about. True story.

On that note, Mayra's Japanese word of the day is I'm sorry: gomen-nasai (or more informally, just gomen).

musings and observations during my plane ride

My most recent flight back home to Japan begins my six-ish month stint moving back in with the parents, and not on a very good note. Mostly. Thoughts during my flight:

1. There must be SOMEone who can design an airplane with less wasted space above our heads and more legroom.
2. Somehow I got the one seat on the whole plane with the busted tv screen. It would let me watch about 20 minutes of a movie (just enough to draw me into the story), then it would just turn off. Damn bait and switch.
3. Best airplane food thus far in my not inconsiderable flying experience: cheese pizza. Finally, some genius decided to serve a food you can't screw up (on previous flights I have opted to sleep through meals, or munch on the plastic silverware instead, so this is quite the improvement).
4. Am I the only one who encounters the window seat dilemma? In getting out of my seat when the aisle passenger is sleeping, I find I have three options, a) wake said passenger up and risk pissing them off, b) face-to-face straddle escape method, or c) butt-to-face slide method. While the second two offer a more discreet (debatable) extrication, should the passenger wake up, say, mid-straddle...I don't know, maybe I'm the only one who experiences anxiety over this.
5. Old woman in a mid-section seat in front of me (to be more specific: NOT directly in front of me, NOT next to me, NOT behind me) turns around and gives me a ten second stare-down. I have no idea what I did to deserve the Death Look, but it must have been pretty bad.
6. Can't remember the last time I didn't cry on an airplane.
7. My water cup had a hole in it and spilled water on me.
8. Young man sitting next to me was on his way to his wedding, so no possibility of repeating the Bad Life Decision of Summer '07. One less thing to do on the plane (that came out sounding dirty, and Siobhan I know you're rolling your eyes at me--I meant besides not being able to watch full movies).
9. The second I saw my beloved Japan from the window, it was all worth it. I wonder if I'll ever get this place out of my system.

Thus begin my adventures at home.
P.S. As it turns out, driving at night on the opposite side of the street, while jet-lagged and sleep deprived is not the best idea.
P.P.S. Mayra, I have not forgotten your Japanese word of the day. Today's word is kotsujiko (koh-tsu-jee-ko), or car accident, which by some oversight of the gods of destruction I did not experience today.