Osakatomebaby

JUST REALIZED golden week doesnt start tomorrow night but TONIGHT! howa can I be so not up to date with holidays!
then I'll leave you for a week with the mysterious Nighttrain........
and a mean link

argh! how friends can be so cruel sometimes? one of my friends is going to a great rock festival this summer where PJ Harvey will be playing. Polly Jean is my idol! and I've never seen her onstage for there must be a curse on me, and my friend who doesn't give a damn about her will go, see her, and the only pleasure she's taking out of it is that it'll piss me off and make me crawl with jealousy like some dangerous poisonous snake on my tatami on the night she'll be there. aaaaaaaahhh
thank God, I just have the right cure for anger: Barjavel. ain't that amazing this man wrote in his seventies a book that is beautiful and subtly erotic but still has the pureness of children's dreams. his books are sure to soothe your soul and make you dream again that life can be that mysterious and magical, if you want it.
[his book L'Enchanteur is a delicious and poetic version of magician Merlin's adventures)

well i feel excited about blogging for the first time in my life. thank you for trusting me Moooollyyy. hope you won't have to regret it...
am feeling like a zombie... you'll probably often read that from me, because of my skill for doing things I shouldn't do when I have to wake up early and go to work the next day... aaah how much more rock n' roll it looks to get drunk when you know everybody at work the next day will guess you did. they'll think you had some wild time while they where in bed getting some rest or reading a book, and that's how you start to have an interesting reputation. then you just have to deny anything special happened and you're sure evrybody will think you have some really cool secret life. that's how one of my colleagues thinks I'm a heartbreaker, though I haven't gotten close to a man in a while. I just arrive late at work after a wild karaoke night (am considering becoming a professionnal karaoke singer) and have a silly smile on my face all day because I'm tired and I think of fun things I did, and then I really look like I'm tired from having had sex all night long and I'm recalling that.
at work, and in life in general, what's important is often what people think you do, rather than what you really do.

Rising with the rising sun but expecting something entirely different tomorrow when I get up in a hotel in Kuala Lumpur and take the second leg of a two-day flight to India. Wish me luck.

Meantime I am leaving you in the hands of Tommy "kiss-of-the-dragon, furry-badger-with-mange-died-and-affixed-itself-to-my-scalp" Nixon (you can call him Nighttrain) and the deliciously daring, the stunningly salacious Miss Marie.

Nighttrain shall remain a mystery, but suffice it to say if he does indeed blog as promised I will rejoice and get all giddy and happy because he's a good friend from old and rather ridiculously random like me. He is also less than six degrees from anyone you can name. Kevin Bacon schmakon. Please egg him on because he is an egghead. And I stole the badger line from him.

Lovely Marie and I met on a ski trip not long ago, but quickly fell in together as partners in crime, beginning with a rather long and questionable "hike" (i.e. slide) down the mountain where we really should not have been. I will tell you someday when we're all sitting around drinking wine, of which she is rather fond. She knows how to say Rothschild.

Miss Marie is French, yet she has never heard the song "There's a place in France" (which Chuck and I have regaled her on). But she can belt out southern rock and simmers her sultry way through David Bowie. This girl would melt your heart. You can't meet her, she is mine. But at least you can read her.

I don't know what they will write about, but they have free rein on this site for the next couple of weeks. They have not blogged before but , I asked them to write mostly because I just want to see what they will write. Anyway, if there are any technical problems please be nice. They are the kind of people who usually are too busy contemplating the universe or rioting to bother with silly things like the Internet. All the more reason I want to read them, and you should too.

Finally as an aside, I had hoped to post a picture of the smashing backpack I will be taking, but not sure I have time--still have a few things to pack. The point not being my brilliant packing skills, but to say thank you to the massively wonderful Chuck who was willing to let me take it. Here I was ready to buy a backpack, not wanting to, and he saves the day. He taught me how to snowboard with the patience of Job and now this. Seriously racking up some good karma. I gotta see what they got in India for him.

Awright, having gushed, I gotta go...India awaits. Peace out.

I am bone tired, but I ain't gotta work no more no more.

Having read this I have officially decided to stay in India and not to return to Japan or U.S. Very sorry.

It's a long time since I couldn't identify at least partly what it is I am eating. And actually, I can identify what I'm eating now. It's all about intonation.

What am I eating?

It's like a salad made from all the leftover junk wherever they make the food at 7-11. It's got ham, edamame, gobo, renkon (lotus) sesame, carrots, mayo. I don't know what else. The question is, why? Why did I pick this wretched thing?

The answer: This is what one eats on THE NIGHT one packs for India. Just grab the least-fried looking thing and a beer. For tonight we shall not only pack, and pack well, but we shall also clean. For the rules of packing well are few. They are:

• You never need more than 2 pairs of pants. Scale the rest of your wardrobe accordingly.
• Presents are more important than anything you think you can't live without.
• There must be extra room in your bag, you may have to repack it on the fly at security checks--especially when they realize you have more than the legal duty-free limit for alcohol imports to India.
• Shoes? Are you crazy?
• Books? One max. Preferably one you're already reading. For the plane only.
• House must be clean, clean!

*Murphy's corollary: Rechargers for media devices, doh!

Now let us see if I can do it...

Chat with little sister that suddenly deteriorated...

her: jhpdsfg
osakatomebaby: ????
her: ;ojhge;elkrhoihgf;aoiuhr
osakatomebaby: uh.....
osakatomebaby: woiejrntntnsk?
her: i don't like ur "CAT"

Good cat Random.

Cary didn't tell me he had a blog. He's a hard man to keep up with anyway. What with obsessively living the good life.

By good life I mean both words. Good and life. He spends all his days either giving or receiving massage (which is a large part of his part-time gig as a massage instructor). The remainder of his time is spent, I believe, tango-dancing, eating soup and or grains, riding his bicycle from place to place (it is a one-speed in a hilly city where everyone else is riding mountain bikes on asphalt), practicing his own form of swimming (which is so esoteric I cannot begin to explain it to you), and probably tracking every second/tuppence/calorie/and breath in some kind of planner. Do not ask me how swimming can be esoteric, read his site and you will get an idea.*

Actually I have no idea how he spends his time these days, but I know every moment is filled with some activity.

Cary is one of the people that could have kept me in Austin. And not only because he gave me bargain-basement rates on massage (since I was his most religious guinea pig when he decided to go into it). He has degrees in math, philosophy and one more to complicated to explain. He went to work for a big company, then a small company. But corporate goonery was just not for him. Massage certainly is.

The man is a preacher for massage and a theologian of "the body". I of course am part cynic and part fallen disciple. Just reading him makes me want to ditch the computer and go back to hard-core simplicity. Before there was music, before there were blogs. When morning meant fresh miso, not instant, and nothing in the fridge went bad. When life was calculated in excel. Cult-like but totally weighed the meaning of things and created some perspective.

But I'm not obsessive, and it's hard without his inspiration.

Perhaps I will read Invisible Cities tonight...one of the chapters we used to read aloud. Meanwhile, I leave you with some notes from his blog. He isn't blogging much but he has posted a lot of other content.

A SHORT RECTUS ABDOMINIS

consider the body's compensations from a strictly structural perspective. start with a short rectus abdominis. the sternum is pulled downward in the direction of the pelvis below. enough flexion is brought to the spine that the organism cannot see anything but the floor. hyperextension in the upper cervicals lifts the head, and a slight bend in the knee brings the pelvis underneath this unsteady structure. the anterior torso is shortened and quiet, and the trapezius is now stuck in a lengthed position, strained, and without proper bloodflow. rub my shoulders to temporarily mute my pain, but help me to open my anterior torso to reinforce my structure, once again, within the flow of gravity.

*UPDATE: Oh, and being a rabid Houston Rockets fan of course.

Whew. I think I've got everything done but get $$$ and pack now. Just bought ungodly quantities of hard candy for Miss Kristen who will be meeting me at Chennai airport with a car on Monday. And picked up the requested manga for Justin's (India Justin's) artist friend in addition to the English Ghost in the Shell Justin (Takatsuki Justin) generously donated to the cause in the name of art. I'll probably end up reading that one on the plane.

And a couple of bottles of wine. I think Kristen will like it, but I can't quite remember her taste in wine at the moment. Justin will probably scoff. It's fun being scoffed at by a guy who looks like Grizzly Adams, doesn't wear underwear and has holes in his aloha shirt. I wonder if we can hold out for a couple of days till Al gets there though. K & J tell me it's hard for them to get wine.

My only regret is I didn't pick up any Engrish t-shirts for them. But then, they don't want to load up on *stuff* any more than I do since they'll be back stateside soon. So consumables are good, assuming I can take them into the country. Now I have to pack light because there won't be any room left in the bag. I think I'll just buy clothes there.

My Canadian co-worker doesn't like it when I use what she refers to as...what does she call it again? My homey-g talk...no...my ghetto slang...nah. Something like that but less offensive and more descriptive. She is probably smarter than me.

Frankly she tends to point it out when I am totally unaware of it. If anything I think I'm using words that have come into the mainstream of slang, or more likely are about 15-30 years out of date. I mean, does anyone say "jive" anymore? I really don't know.

So I'm a little hyperconscious. She says, "It just doesn't work for you." Well what does? What does?

Anyway, that is the long way of saying props to Hyogo Prefecture for being the first to call on the Justice Ministry (sounds like something from Melbotis) to remove the web site for reporting suspicious foreigners. You go Hyogo! Stick it to the man!

I am so ashamed...and yeah, I know, I know. I need a vacation.

I really want to see Jim's film. I am in agonies that I can't help make it. I am such a good gopher. I have no pride. I just like seeing stuff come together. I've done so many shows as Griffin's gopher (though irony dictated he list me as the producer or a.d. hahahahaha. Good times, good times). I haven't done anything like that in such a long time. It would be so fun to work with Jim. C'mon Jim, make me an offer. Japan's so old hat anyway...

Wonder how the kids at The Blue Theater are doing? Good stuff. Sorry I bailed on that last show. So many miscommunications and besides I had a bug up my...about something. I can admit that.

If anyone ever meets an actress in Austin named Gnatalie (she spelled it that way) she has my mother's snuggly and my mom will not let me forget it so she owes me BIG. I know the snuggly is gone...Andrew probably could have used it. Frankly it just freaked me out. BTW how come no one ever donates to the No Puppies fund? C'mon people, do your part!

So I can't work on Dedman's show but I really want to see it. I was so into it reading on the train I got off at the wrong stops twice on the way home. Toyonaka--where I was able to humbly jump back on and succesfully appear flustered, what acting! And Takatsuki where I made it downstairs before I realized I had no idea where I was and had to start gathering evidence. Actually had just enough time to finish the re-read on the train *back* three stops to home so it worked out perfectly.

So wish I could be at that casting call. Unfortunately I will be on a plane to India...

Where to start? Is it Monday? I'm really not even sure anymore.

No hope of catching you up on the maelstrom in my mind. Or what's going to happen in the next few but here's a pitiful attempt:

Friday whatcked me upside the head. Had some bad news that threw me but no time to think about *that* because Saturday the lovely Miss Marie turned 25. A good age for a deserving diva. She was forced at winepoint to wear a silly hat and to sing in an all-too-sultry voice to any number of classic rock songs. I on the other hand did my best to caterwall rockabilly. Somehow we ended up a club which meant another night (work night) in Kyoto.

Anyone who knows me in the slightest would be shocked to know the quantities of water I consumed, and this water was not free, at the club. It is very wierd to sober up in the midst of all the drunken bodies sweating and groping. I guess it's just not my scene anyway. I have always imaginged getting into the club groove would be fun but it always seems a little forced to me. I think this is the product of not having been to the right club yet and my reticence to pursue such. Somewhere out there the hollywoodization exists but I don't suppose I'll find it anytime soon.

That being said I had a smashing time there because for the most part I was a fly on the wall. Maybe I'm just a voyeur. Dressed for day and very primped--like a girl. I managed to be fairly unapproachable. Yay. Guess I'm a product of the Austin live music scene, I'm spoiled for dance clubs. Give me a good partner dance anyday or at least a musician to holler at and wave my beer.

Had plenty of time to think about that working a few hours on a quiet Sunday folding brochures. For most people I suppose that would be tedium, but it takes me back to the old days of packing beads at the Indian store and zoning out into my little alternate reality. In this week's alternate reality I am a rockabilly queen studying country fiddle. I just need to find a fiddle teacher in Kansai and somewhere to practice.

Oh and a fiddle.

Seriously.

The natural next step after work was to go out again. All sleep and no overdoses makes Molly a sane girl and we don't want that. No no no no no. So Osaka, where I miraculously located two restaurants I had been to months ago. The internal GPS is so on these days. Maybe 'cause my brother isn't using his and we are telepathically linked (but of course, we don't talk about this, and I am breaking all the rules by telling you). I'll probably lose bandwidth when he goes to Alaska anyway.

All this and I am not even close to ready to go to India. Got to get manga and presents. Well...after that I am ready. Gonna pack light so I can bring back loads of stuff. Material stuff!

So now you know I'm loopy.

Oh and re-reading Dedman's screenplay.

...in my hot little hand.

Lost in Translation finally opens today in Tokyo. Not that I haven't already seen it, but WHEN will it come to Osaka?

...to tide you over.

Some of my comments are not appearing. Bear with me while I dispatch the killer seals to tuvalu.

Beer is brewed.
Whiskey is distilled.
Wine is...made?

Is there any word other than fermented or made? I seriously thought "vint" was a word but apparently it is not. Ben? OED?

Had a rather fun private lesson with resident genius student (no really, he's a physicist of a field so narrow I can't tell you what it is because someone might guess his identity). Anyway, we got to use the sentence:

It's a 1972 Mouton. It was made by the Rothschild vineyard. (should have added "of course")

I have no idea what I'm talking about (of course). But apparently I picked something up all those years ago when I should have been doing calculus. Ah the naked wine-hazy days of Risk and grilled steak I fondly refer to as high-school...

...Or was that somebody else's life?

Sadly (for some I suppose, actually gladly for me) my knowledge of wine is limited to putting those two words together: "Mouton" + "Rothschild". The outcome means nothing to me. Nor did I know how to pronounce the latter till I looked it up to see if I'm crazy.

Evidently not crazy.

I do know that there are far too many bottles of crummy Beaujolais in this country. This is not a complaint about Japan (liar). It's more a complaint about Beaujolais. I will say though that I just can't dig why people are always chilling reds.

By the way...can anyone help me figure out what's wrong with this search?

Aw heck, my ignorance is showing again. Bother. But bear in mind, this is coming from a girl who likes dirty vodka martinis. Sacrilege! (At least I knew enough not to say a 1976 Mouton!)

I have no idea what this means, but a guy just came to my door with a security uniform on and pointing to his hat said, "I'm security."

Me: "Security?"

He: (pointing to the door now) "Please lock your door."

Me: "It's always locked." (thinking, except now...why did I open it?)

Then he bowed and walked away.

I'm getting old. Falling prey to my own aphorism that "sleep is for mortals". I passed out on my ridiculously small couch less than an hour after that last post and having had all of three sips of the sake before me.

Somebody the other day said you're only as old as you feel. That means I am as old as Jeff now...



(From his mass valentines email with the message only "i love you." Awwwwwww. Sure let that one get away.)

This book is the most fun ever. I've only seen the original movie once but good lord, could it be a better adaptation? William Faulkner wrote the screenplay? I had no idea.

Anyway, not terribly far in but I fear I may not be toddling off to bed soon. There is nothing funnier in the world than Bogart/Marlowe pretending to be a nerdy trigonometry teacher.

I'm not even trying to separate the two. I probably saw it years ago but I'd undoubtably translate everything I read into B/W Bogart/Bacall anyway. Why fight it?

Golly.

Of course I meant Song of Myself below, not the book Leaves of Grass. See, I don't even know the title...deliiiiiiirious.

There is something wrong with my arm. I am not kidding. It hurts when I do that.

I came home today feeling like Jennie the dog in Higgeldy Piggeldy Pop who ran away to eat a mop made of sausage on stage everyday and twice on Sundays. You know that feeling?

I am going to get back on the Kanji horse and tame the brute. I have the database to prove it...or, well at least the spreadsheet.

And I'm going to work for 12 more days straight before I head to In-dia. Though to be I must be delirious already because I'm doing my "basking in the glow of an irrational world" thing. Fancy mental footwork facilitated by David Byrne.

By the way David, can I call you that? I'm sorry about that time you made eyes at me at La Zona Rosa. You were wearing the pink kilt and tighty-whiteys (well you jumped up and down a lot so how could I not notice?)...it was the change between the fuzzy suit and the first unitard if I recall correctly. I was 20 in a short skirt and with a ridiculous black scarf in my hair ala Peggy-sue meets Ally Sheedy circa Breakfast Club. I went home with my boyfriend. I was a fool. Another chance?

I'm off to Uncle Walt Leaves of Grass as usual. How many times before I remember a damned thing in that poem after the first two pages? Prolly 'cause I fall asleep about a page in.

Still, better that than pick up what I'm actually reading which is "The Big Sleep". That would probably hold my attention and before I knew it I'd be up reading all night.

*YAWN*

My mood today:


The evil Chuck and the beautiful and talented Miss Marie (the coolest French librarian in Kyoto) did not permit me to return from Kyoto last night. Drat! Foiled! I haven't...I mean hadn't...had red wine in a long time.



So took a long walk along the river to the station this beautiful morning. Hanging lanterns...



Cherry blossoms still blooming...lots of flowers


(cockney accent) "What do you want to do?" "Let's not start that again."(/accent)



Cages?



Box men...



Time to put the patios up along the river!



Took the train...and...home in Ibaraki, Osaka. Sigh...I love Kyoto.

At the risk of getting unwanted searches, I have to disagree with Melbotis that you have to dig porn to appreciate this. I don't even think it's NSFW enless you work in Japan, and even then not sure.

Oh, duh, not NSFW = SFW.

Transcribed from a conversation with my mother this morning:

MOM: Austin is being attacked by worms...I mean like nature worms. They're everywhere. You'll walk out to your car in the morning and everything will be covered with netting. They'll crawl all over you. I've never experienced anything like it before.

(Aside to kids)What? No we don't have any bananas guys. We have no bananas tod-ay.

So there's these thin obscure little nettings you walk into all the time. These little guys spin their nets. They can move about...looks like they move about an inch every thirty seconds. You should see our Honda--you can hardly see the grey for the worms! The strings end up getting twisted together forming little ropes coming out of the trees.

I've talked to the locals and I don't think anything like this has ever happened before.

I was watching the TV and I thought it was the rain but I heard this sound and I think it was the worms eating. There's this itty bitty munching noise--background noise. Munch munch. It must be thousands of these little worms eating.

But what are they eating? They go to the ground but the grass is still green so one hopes...Well the animals are okay so they're not eating the animals. The green plants are still there.

It's quite frightening.

MOLLY: It's like a Hitchcock movie.

MOM: Yeah but in miniature. You can't sit out too long without one of them starting to crawl all over you or one of them hitting you.

And I totally think, aw don't worry, they won't bite you--and one of those little sucker bit me! I thought, what is this all about? Why are you biting me?

This news isn't getting out of Austin, so clearly the situation is more dire than imagined.

I didn't know that Ira Glass is Philip Glass' cousin.

Speaking of Philip Glass, I have decided to admit defeat. I believe Justin may have been right about the bet. What a powerful admission...may have been.

Nevertheless it appears that I owe him one American dollar. Now the question is--where to get one American dollar other than exchanging 106.57 yen (not to mention cutting that one last -en into .57 -en!). I am on the hunt. Gotta find one before the sk8trz catch me.

Nice link from today. Yoink...

Okay, I didn't, I linked to the link. Anyhoo, rather than jewelry I'd like to have faux irises and pupils implanted on my eyeballs to the left and right of the real ones. That way no one can tell where I'm really looking. Or just some painted contacts 'cause they're nifty.

Getting my hair cut today I felt like Dorothy. "You can even dye my eyes to match my dress?" So many people running around just to cut my hair so I don't look like a cavewoman. One to wash twice and give a massage two to blow dry, and of course one to give the cut. Wow. Makes me want to go more than once every six months. It's fun watching inches of hair drop though. So I guess I'll just have to keep getting it shorter and shorter till I have the haircut the real me has which is 1980's spiky dark red instead of nice demure framed face.

Nah, who am I kidding. I'm no punk. Sigh.

Emily Kremer if you are out there in the universe, this is your beacon. You spent 3 weeks dying your hair daily to get it the right shade of sea-foam green to match the bridesmaids dress for your sister's wedding and it was fabulous with barrettes and ribbons covered with glued-on paper cranes. You have style. Where did you go? Now you could have dyed your eyes too...

By the way, does anyone know when full color skin-tinting is going to be in? I don't mean tan. I mean like Blue Man Group only less greasy and more fleshy. I'd like to have a nice silvery hue if possible.

Spiky red-haired, blue-silver tinted and with six irises. This is how I see myself. No extra heads or arms at least.

How do you see yourself?

The League of Melbotis just turned one. Seems like only a week ago he was having a mid-blog crisis but he's still truckin.

Hip Hip, Hooray! x 3

According The Times of India Indian soldiers killed in battle are known as martyrs. Interesting to me coming from a Catholic school background. Just thought you'd like to know. And yes, this is how my mind operates. Random.

Random is also my cat.

Someone doesn't like David Sedaris.

Cloud your mind and, for a change, see some Sedaris imagery thats not comic, verbose, or self-referential.

So let me get this straight, in order to promote the sister in her own right you write about the brother you don't like? Anyway, nice bird...

Summary of the first 20 minutes after the test:

A passing train. 3...2...1...

Couldn't jump...there it goes.

And this bridge is not high enough.

20 minutes later:Oh well, it's a gorgeous day, I am finished with school early and I have an hour to kill. Yay.

Okonomiyaki time. 300-en kind. Best food ever, though the staff was a little surprised to see their regular customer randomly snap a photo without apologizing and bolt off. Precious time to myself without the weight of the world. And I confess I did the unthinkable today. I took my lunch break even though I had eaten before I went to work (shocking!). No one at my school takes lunch though, I think I'm the first. I took a whole hour. I too cool for school.

Leonard Cohen says there is a crack in everything, that's how the rain gets in. I don't know about that, but I do know there is a hole in the back of chocolate koalas where the chocolate gets in, and if I dip it in a glass of sake sometimes a little sake gets in too.

Dip dip. Munch.

I am horrified to have to say that I neglected to list the most important food group and that which is going to get me through this bloody Japanese test: pickles. Infinite varieties of pickles, but the best being any kind of diakon or cucumber although some pickled garlic is quite tasty. Naturally anything pickled in sake is heaven as well.

Today was fresh pickles, a gift from one of my students. Nothing like a heaping bowl of rice and pickles to make me want to stay in Japan and learn Japanese. If only I had been eating them everyday. Okay, henceforth. Onward!

I am staying up to study kanji and whatever else I need to know for my wretched wretched test tomorrow. If anyone out there is even mildly tempted to email, call or IM me for any reason whatsoever, I would be infinitely grateful for the distraction. Most likely I will sit here fiddling with my absurd exel spreadsheet and quizzing myself till I pass out on the sofa-thing, as usual.

Seriously tempted to quit till I'm back from India...grrrrrrr...Too many tests.

1: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, find line 4. Write down what it says:

(b) (pass down by inheritance) TRANSMIT, hand down

I hate quizzes.

The soundtrack to Fast Cheap & Out of Control was written by a one Caleb Sampson. That means that my $1 bet with waterunderground is off. He had argued it was Philip Glass and I was going with Danny Elfman. Morris has not worked with Elfman at all. And though I would argue the broken calliope sound is more a signature of Elfman than Glass, Glass did write the soundtracks to The Thin Blue Line, A Brief History of Time and The Fog of War.

But you still don't get the dollar!

(I'm not sure where I was going to find a US $ in Japan anyway...)

On a related note, I find it amusing and inexplicably comforting that Errol Morris hasn't updated his website in the past couple of years except to add splash page with a couple of images from The Fog of War. He hasn't even added it to the Films section and the first thing you see on entering is still about biting the hand that feeds you.

Oh, actually he did also add an image of the Oscar and his dog. Heh heh heh...

    

Sleepy incoherence ahead...Rainy day at a rained out hanami. Went to Banpaku Koen 1970 Expo Memorial Park. Ridiculously thrilled by the massive bird tower at the front, wonderfully peculiar. Memorial, what an eerie place but what a day for it. Drizzly so everyone's parties were called off but the trees were pretty. The curious futuristic/semi-Alaskan-looking art and some truly frightening sculptures deposited around this strange plot of land. A fine Japanese garden and petals dropping, water. Petals on a wet black bough? What is a sorado? Is that right? A tower over the whole thing, very difficult to knock down, earthquake proof, quite the view...not making sense am I? Drifting off...so much walking followed by Indian food soooooo good and warm bath to wash away the rain on me. To sleep...

Update on India plans from my agent in the field, the lovely and talented Miss Kristen:

Okay, so I will figure out my schedule and just plan a trip for us. I meant put you on a train with me! Not alone. I'll talk to Al a bit, too, since she's scheduled to leave India (I think) April 30. She may want to bunk a few days of class at the end and hang out with us somewhere nice! There are plenty of cool temples, artists, shows, performances, shopping, etc. right here in Chennai, so we can do all that from here. I wouldn't mind a trip either to the hills, out of the oppressive heat which you probably won't be acclimated to just yet, and/or to a nice swimming beach. The backwater boat tours in Kerala are supposed to be fantastic, too, and I've never done it. And this may be a good time since it's neither monsoon or high season...I'm excited to travel a bit, since I'll be pretty stuck in Chennai until then (except maybe a day to either Madurai or Pondy to see my friend Gillian...though maybe I'll just work that into our trip...) trying to get work done.

Short sleeves are definitely preferable since it's so ridiculously hot. I have nothing but short sleeves. And baggy pants and cargoes are perfect. You'll be fine.

Of course she needn't worry about me being adjusted to the heat since I have never to recent memory complained of such a thing. As a child you could always find me sitting on the heat vents in our house, and as long as I'm not trapped in a vehicle on an Austin summer day or wearing a suit here in Kansai in August, I don't mind. Sweat gets the toxins out! Not sure what these toxins are but I'm sure it's true. Okay okay, I know, it's India. I haven't done the heat of India. But you know, if people have been living there for hundreds of thousands (millions?) of years without airconditioning or ice or other such modern amenities, I'm quite sure I can survive too.

If it's an excuse to take a trip to the hills on the other hand, hot damn I am all for it. Let's go. And the words backwater and boat appeal to me infinitely, though I wonder at this word "tour" but no doubt this is not the kind advertised in American guide books so righty-o I'm off.

I've also been requested to bring 5 examples of the best manga with me to give to an artist friend of friend whose work apparently bears some relation to it. I know nothing of manga and I don't really feel like doing web research on a topic no doubt rife with inane controversy so any suggestions you have I will immediately accept as gospel truth. Ideas?

Top 5 Japanese foods that really by all rights ought to be more popular in America.

5 - Ramen. Okay ramen is popular. And evidently Chinese, although the Japanese version probably bears little relation to it's ancestor, but what do I know. Regardless, there really ought to be better ramen in the US. I just had really good ramen and life is good.

4 - Daikon. Slice it, grate it, boil it. Daikon (Japanese radish) makes the world go round. I eat it every other day with shiso dressing (yes from the conbini, I can admit that). Daikon is fresh, delicious, cheap, and ridiculously useful in all kinds of food or as a condiment.

3 - Dried squid. Sooooo many kinds of dried squid, and I'm sure there are many more throughout Asia. But when you're drinking there is no finer snack than dried squid. To tell the truth, the only reason I came back to Japan was for the squid. Really. I live for squid. It's a symbiotic relationship.

2 - Onigiri. If everybody in American weren't on that crazed low-carb thing (that I'll never do no matter what they say about low-carb beer) they would be scooping up rice balls. Rice balls with salmon, tuna and mayo, who knows what Americans would put in there? Butter and sausage? Sauerkraut? I don't know but it's cheap and easy (just like me!) so how could you not love it?

1 - OKONOMI-FREAKIN-YAKI. I can't describe okonomiyaki to you and make it sound good, but back in the olden days sushi was out there. Now sushi shops keep pace with pizza-by-the-slice on the streets of New York (fine reportage). And it's waaaaaay easier to make good okonomiyaki than good sushi. Mom, Dad, I'm sorry, but I'm never, never going to be able to eat HEB sushi. You can use this fact against me when I get too guilty liberal on you.

As for everyone else, get with the program people! It's not just a cabbage pancake, it's God's gift to your tastebuds. You don't HAVE to smear mayo on it. Okay sure the grated bonito looks kind of alive but that's why it's cool. I swear, if only someone would try...

...On second thought, rereading my post, I think I am probably totally out of touch which is probably why I'm here and not there. Evidently, this entry is the product of hyper-carbing on ramen when I should have been heading home. Shoulda coulda woulda...

Besides, there is nothing worse than Japanese food adjusted for American tastes--ala Zen. Udon noodles served over mandarin oranges with light honey-soy dressing? Soba noodles in a sesame soy vinaigrette? No no no no no no no...and yes, I have tried this place.

Apologies to freinds whose blogs (sugar & splice, waterunderground) I had not added to my links! I got no excuse.

Dan taught me everything I ever learned about film back in the day and look, here he is continuing the tradition!

Also added a couple of Japan photoblogs (hunkabatta, japanwindow) and the omnipresent and generally swell antipixel, thus signifying that this is truly a japan blog. Enjoy!