a happy ending

I've biked the same way from my home to my old high school for almost 8 years. A little over halfway there, there's a small mirror on the ground. It's shattered, and has been for as long as I can remember. It gets flatter and flatter to the pavement as the years go by, but every shard is still intact.

I think it's safe to say that whoever dropped the mirror is finally through their bout of bad luck, and I'm quite happy for this individual.

accidentally on purpose

Consider these last couple of weeks a long comfortable silence between close friends. Sometimes there are no words to say. And now, my biggest news: last night I pulled out a sizable cluster of eyelashes from my poor left eye. Said eye is undergoing a bit of an identity crisis. It seems to be blinking more rapidly due to the loss of eyelid-weight, and altogether too much air is being allowed into the eye itself. Due to some tricky bits of mascara artistry, the missing chunk is not noticeable to the naked eye, except perhaps to people who are taller than me. I've been told that from above, the gap is quite vivid.

The real issue here was, I believed, quite obvious. Trichotillomania, the self-induced loss of hair, from compulsive hair-pulling. Many a roommate of mine has been privy to my obsessive nightly tweezing ritual. But precisely because I have impeccable eyebrows, I don't believe that trichotillomania is my problem. If there is any question of this, all one has to do is a google image search of this disorder. No, this particular eyelash incident was just an accident. However, it has tampered with my personal equilibrium (both physical and psychological), leading me to the conclusion that "hair is everything," something a very good friend of mine once said, and I have often repeated to myself. No doubt in the 45-60 days it takes my eyelashes to fully regrow, I will have time to ponder this timeless truth.

Since it appears that Mayra still reads my blog (as do others, though quite invisibly), I will once again come up with a new Japanese word for you. Bosa-bosa is a term often used to describe my hair. Basically, it means "frizzy," or "messy," neither of which can be said of Mayra's hair.

and everytime I held a rose, it seems I only felt the thorns...

Last night I dreamed that the world was dying from so much pollution (I know, it sounds like Wall-E). The air was so bad that our bodies were deteriorating so we had to wear these artificial body suits to stay alive. And there was no drinking water so we had to drink milk and apple juice. A select group of people had chosen to live in their own skin instead. It meant dying a pretty painful death, and dying young. I decided to join them, because I would rather die living a real life than live a long life in a fake body. So we went out, ate what real food was left, and watched as our skin started to sag off our faces and disintegrate. It was beautiful.

There's a family down the street who owns a goose. The husband lays out on a lawn chair in their carport, while the wife sits next to him. Sometimes the goose sits in a little bath, but today it sat in the wife's lap, and she was cleaning it. It's funny how there are still surprises in your own neighborhood. There's really never an excuse for boredom.

I forgot what it feels like to be stared at constantly. I find myself resenting it and I'm not sure even sure why. Maybe because I'm not the type of person who likes to stand out. Maybe because I wish people wouldn't see me as some sort of oddity. Or maybe just because sometimes I can't tell if they're staring because I'm white, or because I have food in my teeth. In any case, it breeds self-consciousness as well as a strange sort of apathy, depending on the mood of the day, and I haven't really made my peace with either. Although to be fair, I stare at foreigners here as well. Mostly because I'm looking for some sign of that little nod telling me, "Yup, I'm a foreigner too." I like to think it also says, "If we got trapped in this train somehow, we would probably be instant friends," or "If everyone in this restaurant gets stranded on an island, we can form an alliance." It's pretty straight forward, really, so I'm almost offended when The Nod is not offered. It's like they're trying to pretend that they actually fit in and I'm the only weird one.

Mayra's Japanese word of the day: maji (mah-jee), loosely translated, "for real."

I think you hid it from me

Sometimes the best things in life happen when you're not looking for them. Oftentimes, these things happen in what would be seen as unfavorable situations. For example, last summer, I (through a series of "unfavorable" circumstances) got "stuck" spending three nights alone with a friend of my sister's. However, we ended up bonding over impromptu bonfires made from tiny candles and scratch paper. And now she likes me better than she likes my sister. By the way, her name is Lauren, and she's been waiting for me to mention her in my blog.

Other times, good things in life must be sought out, and are often made more worthwhile because of the work put into them. I am reminded of this nearly everyday by most of the people in my household ("Did you find a job yet, Emma?", "Have you worked on that project today, Emma?", "If you don't have anything else to do, you could always do my homework for me," "Stop complaining that you're bored, all you do is watch TV shows all day," and my personal favorite, "You need to get a life."). While these promptings are anything but motivational, I'd say my family is onto something. Starting tomorrow, I will be more intentional about my time. As a personal acquaintance of mine once used to say anytime anyone ever said the word time-- "Time is a gift and a luxury that gets taken for granted, and you can never get it back." ...Or something a lot longer that usually spanned two or three texts. Although, I suppose I shouldn't take life advice from people in the car next to me on Lambert. In any case, it's important to figure out what you love in life, and to go for it. Sometimes that means going for things that are seemingly unrelated to your end goal, but just as essential in reaching it. This is something my friend Siobhan taught me to do: think about Future Emma.

Mayra's Japanese word of the day (or night, in this case) is bakusho, which according to my sister, means "burst of extreme laughter." Good luck with that one!

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.