Osakatomebaby

I would be terribly grateful if you could go to this short film festival and let me know how it is before it comes to Osaka. Thanks, you're all beautiful.

(I'm really going to pack now).

Just in case anyone was wondering, I can assure you that kilts are hot, though I realize this probably seals my nerddom forevermore. But it's probably in the genes, I come from a long line of kilt-wearers. Right Roy?

My mom used to say, as Americans will about thier otherwise obscure ancestry, that her side of the family used to have a castle in Scotland, the most photographed in Scotland in fact, but there being seven brothers they had somehow given up or otherwise lost claim to it. So much for that.

She also said something to the effect that Lord Byron said of our family that they were the most wild and untamed savages upon which he had ever set eyes. (This was before I was born no less). Now Byron believing in noble savages and all, that would be a compliment. Mind you the fact that I cannot find one iota of evidence on the Internet to backup such a claim does not make this bit of family lore untrue. At least not any more than any other American ancestral lore.

(I'm supposed to be packing. I have to move at 9am tomorrow. This is a familiar situation).

Okay I am now unofficially offering a prize to be mailed to YOU from ME in Japan to the first person to comment with the correct answer to the "poll" below. There is a correct answer and it's not that difficult, so the prize will be something cheap and crappy but it will be from JAPAN so it will be inherently cool.

Rocky, why do you have to show on a night I work and the evening before I move??? If I can get out of work quickly I guess I can catch the last half but would there be any point? To miss Science Fiction Double Feature, Dammit Janet, There's a Light, Time Warp...but most importantly, Sweet Transvestite. Last time this showed here I missed it by a day too, May. Suppose they'll show it again in another 5 months.

So here's a poll for you:

1) What's your favorite color?
2) Where do you get your cocaine?

I am very tempted to post that picture of Colin from the rocky party he had in high school. Heh heh.

Neat. Wes Anderson, Bill Murray, Willem Dafoe, stop-motion animation, something about Japan...Trailer.

This rocks. I can phone friends online abroad for free and the quality is gooood. I just talked to my bro and little sister on the phone for like an hour and it cost 1 euro. I think I'm gonna ditch the land line and save like a jillion bucks and they are not paying me to say this. Wooo.

It's a small world after all...It's a small world after all...

*spins*

*bonks head on wall*

Yeeeeee.

Thanks Dan.

Wow. There is a modern Indian art museum in Himeji. Gotta tell the Kala people.

So just for fun here's a picture of Justin (India Justin) in...ah...India.



One of the coolest nights there we met one of his artist friends and sat on the roof drinking slightly less than cold beer then wandered over to his top-floor studio, which was covered by a raised leaf roof. Cool enough in the evenings to paint and relax in style, but I wonder how it managed in the monsoon.

He showed us a massive tryptych and innumerable gods, beasts and other creatures. Not the least among his works was one erotic painting. No problem showing the guys, and guess he didn't care about showing me since I'm not an Indian girl, but he did say "don't tell my wife". What silly fun. Really I almost asked him if I could buy it but was passing out from jet lag and the club the night before so missed that golden opportunity. Perhaps there will be more. A very nice man...

Apparently, keeping a diary can be unhealthy. But I dunno, the only time I've ever successfully finished an entire diary was when I was at low point and it was the one thing that got me through. That and lots of Tecate! Wait...maybe that just proves the point.

Anyway surely bloggings not the same since it's public and you self-edit. Yeah, imagine if I actually said everything. Pretty mind-numbing isn't it?

I'm wiped, completely zonked. What did I do? Yesterday successfully registered 3 folks to vote. One of whom was just doing it to get out of state taxes and said he wouldn't really vote but he was a Bush fan so...

Started packing to move next week. I can't bloody wait. Am so excited about getting the new place, installing tatami, setting up a more permanent form of camp. Entering that massive security door like I belong there. Putting up some nice shelves to display tea stuff (like Japanese tea, not teapots or anything). Printing some of my nicer photos for the walls. I think I will bring my Baskaran cat sketch back from TX. The one these nice friends gave me once upon a time. They have fabulous art by the way, you should see it. I think they're having a big show next month at the UT PAC or something.

Found out I will probably be able to go home for Christmas/New Years and the inimitable Marrrie will join me though sadly, my other hero Asuka-chan won't. Will try to drag back Marni the Aussie too but that's a stretch.

Played ping pong with Paul and then some Junior High kids in Kyobashi in my suit. I have no idea how this stuff happens. The kids were much better. I was naturally horrified when Paul asked them, since we were pretty much embarrassing ourselves silly and making these kids crack up with Paul's Barishnikov-style playing and my tendency to let the ball hit me on or about the head, neck and shoulders.

Finally, taught karaoke for an hour and a half for overtime then promptly went out and spent my hard earned money on herring and a *small* German beer at Loreley. The owner (pictured) was out which is too bad because he's the sweetest man, but his son was friendly--if a little shocked to see a foreign girl come in by herself. Hey, after jumping up and down trying to keep the energy high in this class, I needed a little chillin out.

And so ends another weekend. Why is it I never spend a quiet moment any more? I am like a chiuaua who found the no-doze sometimes.

Oh and most importantly practiced my own karaoke. I'm officially doing a Bon Jovi song with my very cute manager at my sayonara party Saturday. It's really adorable to see her sing. She loves Bon Jovi, some GNR, stuff like that. She sang some mildly raunchy Madonna song...oh yeah, Like a Prayer. Only she's so cute, with this delicate sweet voice. Me I just yell a lot. Depending on the song, that's okay. So I'm also doing Sekai ni Hitotsu Dake no Hana by SMAP. Been rehearsing forever and still not easy but I think I'll manage...just can I do it after we've been drinking beer and sake. We shall see. Finally I have to work in David Bowie China Girl if possible. It's just too much fun. I am officially no longer doing Jailhouse Rock since it had become my signature song and everyone was bored of it, me especially. On with Bowie!

You know he made the Ellen Fleiss commercials. Now Quaker Oatmeal. What I want to know is, what's it like to be on the set, I mean, in the interretron? Say you're sitting there talking about pecan-flavored oatmeal for three hours. Do you get really worked up about it? Does it reaffirm your mission in life as a pecan farmer? It's like the five-minutes game taken to a new level.

The five-minutes game is where you get to say or do whatever you want for five minutes and everyone is required to give you their attention. I miss doing the 5-minutes with Cary and AB et al. It sounds goofy, but once people get over the pressure and get used to it it's good. We did it the other day at a party but that's mostly drunken rambling. I may have some more sober scrabble parties and 5-minutes soup nights at the new place. That'd be nice. Yeah.

I'm packing today.

It wasn't a subscription thing when I posted it. Now all I can find is the first paragraph:

"If you have ever wondered what being a drama student is all about, I urge you to take in The Elephant Vanishes, Simon McBurney's co-production with Complicite and Tokyo's Setagaya Theatre, currently at the Barbican. If, however, the idea of people being very theatrical about nothing in particular fills you with utter dread, then keep away. At the press night, I was riveted to my seat with absolute horror. It was almost exactly like one of the obligatory courses that were part of my drama degree, when we would get together and spend a week or so playing music on cheese graters, lying on our backs in semi-darkness whistling, choreographing movements and repeating them in a demented fashion, singing invented songs, and finally bring the whole cacophonic nonsense into what was proudly termed "a devised piece". It was then shown to a profoundly unimpressed audience."

She went on to then complain about the tech.

Regarding Murakami, whom she hadn't read, "Checkov he ain't" She kvetched about the lack of plot and quipped, "Do we care? We do not." Scathing darling. Oh!

Finally the bit about orientalism and some self-congratulatory comment on how she chatted with an Asian guy there and didn't assume he was Japanese.

Double Grrrr because Bugmenot doesn't work on this site.

Next entry is much better this way. Oh and it changes every time you refresh. Splendid!

This chick obviously did not enjoy "The Elephant Vanishes" as much as me. She clearly just does not want to enjoy life. That and she seems to have issues with character-driven stories, not to mention anything less than literal. Hey lady! Lighten up.

I guess she's probably just exhausted from the energy she spends to defend the Japanese against the horrific crimes of orientalism committed by this show:

...I'm afraid that what McBurney and his Japanese counterparts have delivered is a cliche-driven mishmash of sub-Kill Bill orientalism, with Tokyo socialites depicted as institutionalised, sombre people who spend their lives forever swishing in and out of paper sliding doors.

Um...let me get this straight, Japanese stories by Japanese author acted by Japanese people in Japanese, shown to rave reviews in Japan and directed by British director. That rat! Taking advantage that way. Anyway, how could he ever understand something so foreign to him.

Oh and the Japanese too, perpetrating cliches against themselves. Though what those cliches might be other than the fact that they use paper sliding doors I'm not quite clear on. Has this chick ever been to Japan? What does she think is the cliche and is it a Western cliche of Japan or just a cliche? Anyway, if a housewife, a young married couple, and an appliance salesman are socialites I'll be a non-bathing-in-the-hot-springs non-attacking-if-you-make-eye-contact Japanese monkey's uncle.

Is it just me or does everyone in this PC world have to play against type just to prove they're not succumbing to it? How exactly is one supposed to write about alienation, isolation, or daily life without tainting all of Tokyo?

Wedding bells for Robert McNamara...

6.2.

I am tired of getting woken up by earthquakes. About 3:30 this morning, rrrrrrrrr, and I clumbed down from the loft, turned on the light, sat bleary-eyed next to the wall farthest from potential falling objects and watched till the lamp stopped swinging before I climbed back up to bed. I really hope Super Frog saves the earth soon, but I have my doubts.

I am a typhoon. Also we are ostensibly having one now but I fail to be impressed. We shall see.

I just got an email from a guy I know via politics:

Hi Molly-

I ran into a perfect stranger who told me he was accousted by a strange woman named Molly in Minami ("Minami Molly"?) on Sunday who announced herself by proclaiming, "I'm so liberal, I'll even register Republicans!"

Made me feel proud. Anyone I know?

Yes, yes, that could have been me...

Ha! NHK'd at last. For whatever reason I decided to pick up the intercom today when my doorbell rang twice and someone knocked. Didn't feel like sneaking to the peephole. It was the NHK man come around to collect their fees. NHK, for my readers abroad, is the public television station in Japan. Only I think it's associated strongly with the government in some way. Anyway, they come from door to door and ask for fees and the don't really tell you it's optional (which I am told it is) so foreigners usually end up forking over the dough, whatever it is.

But I got off easy. I said that I don't watch the tv. He asked, but you have a tv? Yes but it comes with the apartment (he knows this, because it's a Leo Palace and they come furnished). I said it's not plugged in and I don't even know where the remote is. He looked chagrined and dubious but probably a little relieved he could stop ringing my doorbell which apparently he's been doing for a year and I've been ignoring him. Sorry NHK man. I don't like the fact that they make you ring my doorbell either.

The funny thing is, it's all true. I sort of thought about digging the tv out from under the desk and plugging it in during the Olympics but the idea of rooting through the junk I threw haphazardly in storage to find the remote put me off it. I mean, the whole process might have taken up to 15 minutes of precious life. Flashing lights? Subjecting myself to advertising? Nah.

Anyway, I think I have to send some money to KUT and This American Life now.

That's my poor attempt at romanized katakana spelling. We just had another one. I was sleeping late (seeing as how I didn't sleep over the weekend...um I was out too late). And I was having this awful dream. Sometimes I'd rather I didn't remember my dreams. On the other hand, the earthquake was very log and actually a little scary.

I was dreaming that someone was explaining a little known aspect of recent laws passed in the interest of homeland security whereby, in the event of the president's death and in a state of emergency Dick Cheney would be allowed to "court" Laura Bush in the interest of producing an heir to succeed his father. Donald Rumsfeld was next in line. There was also a corporation involved by the name of Chubb Hub Inc. (Ben & Jerry's Reference?) but I can't say exactly what their role was. I was looking over the legal documentation and trying to figure out how they got this one past us. I was feeling pretty grossed out too. Then the earthquake came.

I'm not sure which was worse. I was kind of glad to be woken up.

More on the earthquakes. Personally I was standing in the subway during the first and didn't see anyone panic except three slightly tipsy women who clung to each other. Everyone else just kind of looked around mildly contemplative. I mean what do you do when you're in the subway and an earthquake comes? Not much you can do.

We had two big earthquakes yesterday and today I'm still shakey. I'm not really *afraid* of the earthquakes per se. But the next day I can never tell when I'm standing still. I always feel like I'm swaying...even if it's just from my heartbeat. Like now. I'm hypersensitized so I can feel the floor shaking from my typing. And every train that goes by I wonder, is it a train or an aftershock? Spidey sense is tingling.

Yummy. Sake. Squid. I'm never coming home. I'm sorry.

I saw my new apartment today. Zoom in on Sakaisuji-Hommachi. It's the one pretty much in the middle. The world, it seems, will finally revolve around me (rather than just giving that appearance). Or at least the loop line will. Oh joy! I am not *on* the Loop Line. I don't know why, but I've never liked the Loop Line. I'm a subterranean girl when it comes right down to it. Transfer, transfer. Actually though, let me just expound on my good fortune for a moment...not to mention the story of how I got here.

Well shoot, I got enough fire water, might as well tell the story. Will try to make it short (famous last words...actually...come to think of it, "I'll try to make it short" would be pretty good last words).

So I was to be given two choices of apartments. This, I think, was quite considerate and practical because if I'm happy where I live (and it is a company apartment) I am more likely to continue on. Maybe it's just the rush of moving (oh constant motion, I'm a flea on the earth, I smell blood) but I think I'm gonna be real happy there.

So I was going to look at the two places with someone from the office (i.e. who can speak Japanese) but you know, it didn't work out so I went on my own. What fun! I mean, true I didn't get to ask many questions effectively, but then, I think every question I've really asked when touring real estate has ended up being irrelevant and off-target when it came down to living there. E.g. the Landlord who was ex-soundman for Frank Zappa and David Bowie. But that's another story.

[Sidenote: I am getting severely sucked in by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. And is it just me or does the drummer look a little like Dan?]

So show up early to be Japanese on-time for appointment...seems not open yet so coffee and arrive five minutes late. I can't win for losing. Didn't matter, met the agent. Cute. Ex-Jr. High teacher. Sweetly tried some words in English though she didn't have to. I mean, I didn't speak a word of it...I kind of speak this dumb onomatopoeic non-Japanese language of my own you know and people say "sugoi, josu" but I am not josu.

She shoved some floorplans in front of me and pictures of the outside of the building then for whatever reason took them away before I even looked at them. Ah...all right. But I got the idea. My apartment looks like a building where a kid with limited legos decides to build a skyscraper. Stack stack stack. Okay.

So up she stands, "Shall we go have a look?" (Japanese) and I yes and we go. Gets her car out of the parking elevator machine which reminds me of the Back to the Future ride at Universal Studios (Japan). And she puts me in the back, which feels weird. It's not a taxi, she's nice and gosh I hate all the hierarchical stuff. I'll never get over being a...darn I wish there were a better word than "Yank". And not "Seppo" for c**&#^@.

Constant reeling. I think I lost my bait.

So small talk can be hard even in a language you know till you've learned how to do it, and in another language in a car with a rep who doesn't speak your language and I'm trying not to be tensed all ears what what think think say think say and be normal. People tell me my personality is different in English and Japanese. Yeah, definitely. I have no personality in Japanese except perhaps "overeager".

So the first place, wow. It was like walking into a bad coffee shop for middle-aged women. Bad back-lit stained glass in the entryway. I actually laughed and the agent asked why. "Ah, the colored glass is funny" just doesn't quite express...

The actual apt. was on 2nd floor, but we went to top floor to see. Good points: large convenient bathroom. Not sure why but the sink was big enough to wash a toddler in. I mean, the bathroom was like another "room" which is strange if you know what apartment baths are like here.

And then I noticed the noise. Oto apparently means noise, as acquired by me today. There was a lot of oto even on the top floor so to the balcony. Ah yes, major building just in initial phases of construction. How long? For the next two years, 5 or more days a week all day long. Mind you I start at 12. Ah no.

But dare I say, that was not the worst. I might forgive even jackhammers. I am a very chill mind control kind of gal. No. There was nary a shop, conbini, slightly personable looking establishment in the area *and* oh dear god the wallpaper-- carrying on this matronly theme of bad bad bad taste some sort of chairrail high pseudo-Olive Garden style green stripey disaster with swishy plant life patterns. Help.

I know how this works. Nighttrain and I got worked over the coals when we rented that dark god-forsaken apartment in Terrytown. They guy took us to a couple of nice-looking complexes, went in to the office, no doubt chatted up his staff buds then came out to tell us the place he wanted to show us was already rented. Showed us a total dive and finally took us to the last place which we more than readily signed for because the pressure was *on* and anyway Nighttrain had to get out of his place.

So she showed me the dump then showed me the decent place. Spit-shined.

The decent place...well, I live in the burbs now. I have carpet. I have an equally inefficient set-up(for living, not for building or consuming space). Yeah the washing machine is right by the front door. Yeah the closet space is negligible. Oh this one lacked a shoe closet. I mean, in Japan, no shoe closet! One burner, not two, but gas...so...

No tatami. None here either. I am going to buy some and find someone to make me a nice frame and squish them together. I tell you. Wallpaper dirtier than here. Bathroom sink squidged in between the closet and kitchen, across the hall from the bathroom (actually an improvement practically if not aesthetically from the one here which is in the shower basically).

That's the bad stuff. My main requirements: location, location, location and oh yeah some kind of impersoal quality to make me feel like I'm somewhere cooler than I belong.

Spades!

The entryway is this dark cavern with an immense I mean immense security door. The mailboxes are aesthetically tall and narrow. Then into the dark passage that is the stairwell and elevator shaft. Later noticed there is a 1-foot wide brick rail next to the steps to roll your bike up to the storage area.

The place: wood floor, 1LDK (i.e. two rooms). One long long room separated into two "rooms" by a sliding modernized glass shoji stand-in.

[Vacation - the Go-Go's btw. This song breaks my heart. For reals. I had it on the only mixed tape I had in my car the last two years in Austin. Spent a lot of time belting it out. Oh hell, I just missed singing in my car. Used to power jam. Lotta steering wheel drumming and screaming and...no wonder I like karaoke. I should go by myself. Anyway.]

Anyway, there's a little grocery across the street which is a total rarity in that neck of the skyscraper woods. Actually the whole little block is a find because we had to drive around to park and there are restaurants, pubs, coffee shops, of every strain. Even a number with seats on the street (oh joy, I must always be on the street). Indian curry shop in the basement across the street. Okonomiyaki. Izakaya I think. Some ostensibly "Aussie" pub. I don't believe it but it hardly matters.

15 minutes at most on bike from where I work. 15 minutes on foot I think from the main shopping arcade in Shinsaibashi. 15 minutes from club/night life of south Osaka. 5 min from subway. Oh what do I need? Tatami. I need a carpenter to build me a bin/tray thing for tatami. Shoot,

DREW: Stop cruising Pennsylvania if that's where you are. I need a builder of things. Can you bring a power tool on a plane?

I am nesting. That's weird. Kill me now. I want a couch and a nice digital projector and a screen. I want tatami. I want a small table and lots of zabuton to sit on. I think I need my wireless router but I'm not sure. If it's not in use...I need it. I want a little portable oven and a wall-rack for pans. And I want pans.

That is all I want.

Oh hell, I am going to have to put the books somewhere. I need a bookshelf.

Long story short. The place actually is cute. The long room, wood floors. I can imagine the tatami by the window with a little table on it. A couch and chairs here. Tiny desk there. Nifty photos my friends and I have taken all down the long walls. I am going to be happy there. You know when you are making concessions. I'm not. You know when a place is right. I may stay a long long time...

Nova.

League of Melbotis confirms the value of my screensaver. Okay now you have two things you have to do: register to vote and help me find the aliens. Me and Oliver Wendell Jones.

Okay all my American readers in Japan. All probably 2 of you. If you haven't done it, please go register to vote. Now. It has to be mailed by September 15th and I know you're just going to print it out and forget to send it for a week anyway. Oh but if you do register as an overseas voter you are generally exempt from state income tax (if your state has such, Texas, God bless it, does not).

Alternately I have the postcard form and can fix you up over a beer...whoever you are. If you are an American who reads this site I will buy you a beer if you let me help you register to vote. I have already harrased the 2 Americans I know. Why I don't know more than 2 Americans in Kansai I can't tell you. I have Canadians coming out my ears, but for some reason people in the 51st state aren't allowed to vote in Federal elections in the US. Aussies have to vote and Brits can vote by proxy, I checked. Kiwis? I think they all just get together and have a rugby match to decide the outcome, I'm not sure.

Seriously, I'll buy you a beer or chu hai or coffee or whatever (or anyway, for the first 10 people...I dream), if you let me help you register to vote. I won't even tell you who to vote for either unless you want me to.

And in the interest of full disclosure, the site above is indeed supported by the Dems, but only because I don't know of a Republican equivalent to post alongside it. I'm trying to be fair. Not that I'm not partisan (1, 2, 3), just I think it's not so easy to register from abroad and we all ought to give each other a hand if we can.

If you do register at the link, I'd really appreciate a quick comment too. Domo.

Was going to tell you about the Bikes Against Bush guy but he got arrested. Bummer. Thanks to Johan for the link nonetheless. It was a cool idea...

I meant to tell you about this but now it's archived. Summary: until pharmaceutical companies started marketing the "cure" there was no concept of mild depression in Japan. Counselling and such are kind of experiencing a boom but the stigma here is still immense. Average hospitalization in the US for mental illness is 10 days. Average in Japan is over 300 days. Not sure exactly what that implies though.

The phrase the pharmaceutical companies are using to popularize the idea of mild depression is kokoro no kaze or "a cold of the heart". Anyway mild depression is a misnomer as well, insofar as people who are "mildly" depressed don't feel it's particularly "mild" or manageable, but at least it's distinguishable from bipolar or severe depression since both of those are clinically recognizable across cultures. Mild depression on the other hand has many manifestations and many "cures" from lifestyle changes to medication. (I don't mean to minimize it by saying "cures"...just that I tend to think we're still in the "leeches" phase of medical science regarding the brain).

So to misquote from one guy in the article (since it's no longer available), "Either my depression is worse than others' or their colds are worse than mine". He went on a retreat and fasted and that's worked for him, though he was still pro-pharmaceutical. Said that just worked for him.

Anyway I thought of the article again because I saw this ad for counselling in the subway the other day. It's hard to make out...didn't have my good camera...but maybe you can see. There's a doctor putting a stethascope to a immense tumor (yes that's a tumor) protruding from the back of sad-looking and very emaciated man dressed a little like an Indian mendicant.



I dunno, it's tongue-in-cheek. I kind of like it...

What can I say. Jennifer Jason Leigh, you have more talent than you know what to do with. I mean, you really don't know what to do with it, do you?

Oh the horror, the fascination, the bikini-clad men, the glitter, the glam, the Swedes. Death Ride to Osaka is what films today can only dream of aspiring to in dark, sweaty dreams where they then wake up screaming. Oh and don't forget the gangsters, or as we say in Japan, the ya-ku-za. Fortunately southern belles speak fluent Japanese and yakuza speak fluent English, especially when they are alone. They also have amazingly non-Japanese mannerisms, who knew?

Thank goodness someone has finally exposed the hitherto unspoken white slave trade by which innocent starlet hopefuls with no family and no one to notice their disappearance are suckered into prostitution. Wait till Wai-Wai gets ahold of this! And woe unto them who rebel against their captors who then utter those fateful words, "Send her to Osaka"!

Is that what they're doing to me? Did I somehow cause my school to lose face? They are sending me to "Osaka" later this month. If you do not hear from me after the 25th, know that I loved you and my heart will go on.

Especially for you Jim...

Unless of course you decide to forsake your dedication to career and arrive just in time for the final shootout. I will be the one on the couch, surrounded by henchmen and looking drugged.