18 posts tagged “frustrate”

Today was a turning point of sorts.  I have epiphanies every now and then, and I realized that I haven’t really given Bangkok a chance, and I should have tried harder to like this city.  That’s getting a bit ahead of myself though, so let me come back to it.

Yesterday was the end of week 3 of my CELTA course.  I had a lesson, and I thought it was going to go well, and … it didn’t.  It was my first hour-long lesson, and my first below-standard.  I was more upset than I should have been, but I think most of that was just being tired.  I’ve been working my ass off the last 3 weeks, and though it’s not like I couldn’t have worked harder, it’s taken a toll.  I’ve been at school from 830 to 6ish everyday, and planning lessons after that until late, not to mention the stress of being in an entirely new, unfamiliar place and meeting new people and learning so much new material.  I will admit that, this course has made me re-evaluate a lot of things I never thought about in my teaching before, and that’s a good thing.  I’m much more self-aware when I’m teaching, my planning has gotten better, I’ve learned to anticipate problems, and learned better teaching techniques.  At the same time, though, the constant stress of planning and being evaluated has exhausted me, and more unfortunately, sucked my confidence.  I know I’m not a bad teacher, but when I teach a lesson and can find very few things that I consider strengths… it’s discouraging.  I know I have improved, but being more aware of my teaching has also made me realize that I’ve still got a long way to go.  Granted, my trainers always compliment me on the rapport I have with my students, but that rolls off my shoulders; it’s a good thing (great, when you’re working with kids) but it’s not everything, and I know it.  I made a comment in one of the input sessions the other day, that we need to remember that this course is only a month long, that we will continue to grow and develop as teachers and that we shouldn’t feel discouraged if we don’t come out of this as super-teachers.  Perhaps I should take my own advice.  For the most part, I do, but yesterday was just… overwhelming. 

But yesterday wasn’t just the lesson from hell.  Afterwards was pretty decent.  I called my mom and talked to her and Mamaw, which I hadn’t done for 2 weeks, so I had some stuff to fill them in on.  They were intrigued to hear about Ben, since last time I talked to them was before I went out to Khao San for the night.  (reminds me, I need to write that up…)  I wandered out into the hall, stumbled into one of my colleagues, and we went down to the local Irish pub where some of the others were having drinks.   I didn’t really want to hang with the subset of CELTA people that were there, so I wandered off to the gay bar that is the other hangout spot for our group and found the people I was looking for.  Oddly enough, the people from the pub all showed up at the gay bar shortly thereafter, since happy hour was over, and we all spent a couple hours chilling and talking.  There’s some really cool people there; I’m the youngest, of course, but then, when am I not?  I tend to stay on the fringes and drink my coke and watch, but I still had fun.  After a while, Bonnie, Eric, Czar and Gabe and I left to go get ramen from a restaurant near the pub, wandered into a parking deck to use the bathroom, and then debated going to get a massage before just deciding to go home.   

I took the cab with Bonnie and Gabe to Phaya Thai and walked from there.  When I got home I was surprised to see it was only 1145.  I was going to take a shower and then was so lazy I decided to just go to bed, and then Habib called me and we talked for 2 and a half hours.  It was good to see him again, even over a webcam.  I’ve missed talking to him, though he has certainly become more cynical than he was.  I’m not really surprised, but…  sometimes I kinda miss the old Brenton, for whom we had  a Facebook  group devoted to his deflowering and traumatization.  I’ll never forget the day Julie told me he had come to her and told her he had realized that God didn’t fit in a box.  She was unimpressed, thought he should have realized that sooner, but I realized it meant he’d come a long way from the first night we had dinner when he asked me, “So, what religion are you?”  Wow… that was a long time ago.   -sigh- Nostalgia.

And now that I’ve gotten to the point where I would actually talk about today – I’m tired.  And I’m going to bed, so my epiphany will have to wait. 

That title might be a bit spoiler-y, I suppose. 

Today was one of those singularly annoying days.  I had dinner last night with Lloyd; he’d never been to Saba before, so even though I had it for dinner on Tuesday, we went there.  I love talking with Lloyd; he’s always so much fun.  I should have gone to feast afterwards, but I’d only had 3 hours of sleep that morning, so I came home instead, meaning to read until I was sleepy. 

Two hours later, I’d finished The Horse and His Boy – I had read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe on Tuesday night.  I’m surprised as I re-read them – they go by so quickly.  It’s taken me an average of 2-2.5 hours to finish the three of the Chronicles that I have so far finished. With the exception of some small points (have I ranted about the Prince Caspian movie here yet?), the movies are doing extremely well in following along.  Much better, I think, than Peter Jackson’s Tolkiens.  That’s a discussion for another day, I suppose.

I didn’t mean to only have slept three hours on Tuesday morning.  I had an interview with a temp agency. But Monday night I had finished some cover letters that I needed to get done, and was poking around on my computer.  I was thinking of playing a bit of Civilization, but I couldn’t get any of the versions I had downloaded to work.  I didn’t feel like RollerCoaster or ZooTycoon, and knew that if I started on AoE, I would be there for hours.  So I looked at the folder of e-books I have, to see if there were any short stories to read.  Hadn’t read any Tanith Lee in a while (British fantasist, amazing. One of my favorite authors), so I re-read one of her old short stories that I vaguely remembered, and then went looking for something else.  I ended up reading about 2/3 of the first book of The Secret Books of Paradys, called The Book of the Damned. 

I’ve only ever read the first book; there are three others, but they are very good.  Dark, gothy, not a little sex, but thought-provoking, and at times surprising.  It’s the kind of fantasy that makes you think as you read, and after you put it down.  I remembered reading parts of it before, but it had been so long, and then once I started, I couldn’t stop; I just kept being drawn in.  And then it was 7 am, and I figured I should get at least some sleep before my interview. 

And now I have started on Emma.  I don’t know why – especially since I was in the middle of a few other things. Perhaps because Caity mentioned in her Guiana update that she finally finished it, and I wanted a change of pace from the fantasy I have been doing lately.  I’m about halfway through it, but I have some reservations. 

I usually love Jane Austen.  She’s great, and Pride and Prejudice is one of my favorite stories of all time.  But Emma – well, to be honest, I knew in the first 4 chapters that I didn’t like her.  She’s ridiculously conceited and silly.  In fact, it’s a struggle to get through the book, simply because at times I want to shoot myself rather than listen to the citizens of Highbury prattle on about their ridiculous and insignificant opinions on the most mundane of their neighbors’ actions, such as how many times they bake their apples.  The only person in the book that I would ever even consider acquainting myself with in real life is Mr. Knightley; the rest of them I would honestly be unable to keep from laughing in their faces. 

But, I want to keep going, because I want to see how this all turns out.  I had the unfortunate-ness to glance at the Introduction before I had read anything else of the novel.   I won’t repeat it here, but let me just say that, if I ever write an introduction to a classic novel, I will be sure not to give away a major plot point on the very first page, where anyone who just happens to glance at it will have that ruined for them.  For me, the story is the most important thing, but it’s very annoying to have the surprise of the story taken away.  So now, instead of experiencing it the way the author intended, the surprise is gone, and thus, some of the entertainment.  Cause now I know that _____ is not really interested in Emma, and so I just think he’s a ridiculous idiot, and wonder what in the hell is going on. –sigh-

It occurs to me I still haven’t said why today was annoying.  Since I went to bed around 10 last night, I woke up at 3.  I for some reason am unable to go to bed at a decent hour and sleep through the night, but I can manage to sleep through the day.  It’s very frustrating.  I read for a few hours, then went back to bed around 6 am, intending to sleep for a few hours and then wake up. 

I woke up at 330 in the afternoon.  Why??? I have no idea, but this needs to stop.  I think part of it is that I was dreaming; or rather, having a nightmare.  I remember bits and pieces, because I have been trying to make myself remember my dreams.  And this one, it was so weird.  I was very upset, because my mother was trying to send me off to a mental institution.  It was bizarre, but it felt very real.  –sigh- I wonder why this always happens to me.  I’ve been having very vivid dreams for some time, to the point where it is hard for me to wake up, and keeps me from sleeping deeply, but I don’t know what I can do about it.  And not having a set schedule everyday isn’t helping. 

Well, I have finished my triscuits and cheese, and it’s 2 am, so I should be getting off to bed.  I’m aiming to get up around 930 am tomorrow, and get on a normal schedule.  Wish me luck.

OMYFUCKINGGOD.

I hate my computer.  It spazzes out repeatedly. This will be literally the 4^th time I have tried to type this post.  My battery has been being ridiculous, the adapter’s only working half the time, it overheats itself, and I can’t use the wireless in my apartment.  Any other wireless is fine, but if my wireless card is even on in my apartment, the computer will continuously reboot itself until I turn it off.  It will get into launching XP, recognize the wireless card, flash a blue screen of death at me, and then restart.  Really annoying, since I can’t read most of it to try to figure out what’s wrong.  But it doesn’t happen anywhere else. Ack. I need a job.

Okay, so back to my post.  I did nothing today, for the most part. I watched Van Wilder and Legally Blonde on comedy central.  Both movies I kinda like, despite them not being high film.  I feel marginally useless for spending 6 hours in front of the tv, but I only binge like that occasionally.  Now I’m in callaway, writing cover letters and applying for jobs. At least, I will be when I finish this post.  But I had some stuff I wanted to post.

First up – my time in front of the idiot box was not entirely wasted.  I finished this:

 

Ain’t it purty? I’ve been working on it for a few days.  I made a choker last year when I needed to do something with my hands (right about this same time, actually), but I lost it in Kyoto.  Oh well, can always make more.  Anyway, I’ve been wanting another choker, cause I can’t wear my collar everywhere (people give me strange looks, dunno why

-smile-).  And, I had a new shirt! So I made something to match.  Here’s the shirt.  I love threadless. Go buy stuff there.

Also, I was thinking the other day. Or rather, I think this all the time when I hear this song.  Ever wonder about the sexual politics behind the song “Angel is the Centerfold”?  Just listen to it.  It’s totally 80s, but it’s really interesting. 

Lastly – I went to Buckhead the other day, and I always find this sign interesting.  But the billboard behind it just makes it awesomer.   You might have to view it larger to see the background. 

that's sarcasm, in case you couldn't tell.  it was fine yesterday - went and applied at a temp agency, took their tests, aced them.  no big deal.  we went out to dinner with my uncles and co., since they were leaving, at a restaurant on river street.  i ordered the tuna, which was okay.

less than an hour later, i'm sick.  yay.  i went home and went to bed early, but didn't sleep through the night, despite having got only 4 hours the night before.  i woke up around 230, ridiculously thirsty, but couldn't get back to sleep, so i finished the book i was reading.  I picked it up a week or so ago, since I hadn't read it in a while... It was an interesting read.  The literary analyzer in my head was going off like crazy, but it was fun.   So much chauvinism and outdated science.

I finally got back to sleep around 530.  I was supposed to get up and go to more temp agencies today, but i didn't feel well enough, and cancelled the appointment i made for this afternoon.  I slept till around 4ish, when I got a call from Emory, about the position I have been waiting on it.

Didn't get the job.  I'm angry with myself- I waited for two weeks to hear back from them, turned down two other jobs that really wanted me because of it;  I thought the interview had gone well.  Guess I was wrong.  So now my grandmother is nagging at me again.  Fun times. I pretty much told her to leave me alone, but it took a couple times for her to take the hint and actually do it.  Although, she suggested I go up to Atlanta.  Which is odd, because she keeps asking me why i dont work here for gulfstream, which makes airplanes.  She also volunteered the information that she could take the phone book and find me a job quicker than I could.  To which I replied, for the god-knows-how-many-nth time that I don't want her help.

 

this nocturnal thing.  i think its cause when i was in Japan it completely screwed with my schedule and now i am making up for it by refusing to be diurnal.

of course, large parts of this has to do with me playing Age of Empires. 

Yes, I know, it's dorky.  I came home the other night and played for (literally) 12 hours straight.  I missed being able to do things like play computer games and read books just because I felt like it, and so I've been binging a bit to make up for it. 

My grandmother is not happy about this turn of events.  To her mind, I should have already found a job right now, and me sleeping all day doesn't help.  If I spent the time that I play games looking for a job, if I had taken her suggestion and sent my resume out a month ago to the companies she specified, if I had sat down and seriously thought about all these things that she keeps mentioning, then according to her, I would already have a job.  Despite that I have built two empires and conquered several armies in the past few days, I will admit that I have been slacking.  But her nagging at me? So not helping anything. 

Options here? Well, I kinda wanted to stay in Savannah - it's cheaper to live here, and smaller, so not so much driving.  But Tonia has an apartment near campus, and I got a call from a recruiter today about a job in Atlanta; I'm still waiting to hear from Emory, but I figure I can do temp work there just as well.  And my grandmother has 20-odd years of experience with getting under my skin - so I can't ignore her, not when i'm living in her house.  She would never tell me to leave, but she can be pretty damn annoying if I'm not doing the things I think she should be doing.  My solution? Run away.  Pack up my knapsack and hitchhike out of town.  Not really... But I did call Tonia, and she said I can move into her place whenever.   I just haven't mentioned it to my grandmother yet.  And I don't plan to, until, perhaps, the day before when i have everything settled.  She doesn't like tentative plans, and if it's something I have come up with, I better have all the details down pat before I tell her about it, or she'll attempt to rip it to shreds. 

In not-quite-hindsight, I can see that perhaps I am being less than mature about all this.  All things considered, it would be cheaper to stay here in every consideration - free room and board, cheaper gas, close to my family.  And I used to think that I hated staying in Savannah - technically, this is not true.  I hate being in Savannah because I am always staying with my grandparents, and while my grandfather is never a problem, my grandmother kills my nerves.  In some ways, I should count myself lucky, because she doesn't bother me in the same way as she does my mom (a complete failure at life) or my sister (wild and a general disappointment, especially as relates to fashion).  But I've always been in the middle of all of it.  I enjoyed not having to deal with all of that when I was at college - them talking about each other, the nagging, having my independence.  So, while on some level I feel that leaving is not the most adult thing to do, and I do harbor a lingering resentment against people for doing exactly that (childhood trauma, long story, have an abandonment complex), I'm going to do as my mom would say and "Get while the gettin's good."

Bye, y'all.

Arrrgghh!!! I have a ten-page paper due tomorrow, but I needed to write a blog entry.  And since I haven’t written one in a while, and Japan is really bothering me right now, I feel justified.  

I just threw away about $300 worth of clothes.  Literally, dumped them in the trash.  I feel like a really bad person for doing it too, cause I know that somewhere in this country, there are probably people who could have worn those clothes and used them and loved them just like I did.  Unfortunately, I am unable to find those people. 

I have just spent roughly the last 3 hours hunting for them, though.  I’ve been to about 10 shops in the area, all of them claiming to sell ‘vintage’ and ‘used’ clothes.  And out of all of them, two, count them, TWO actually buy clothes.  But neither of them want my things, because they aren’t brand-name.  There’s something wrong with this.  They’re perfectly good clothes, most of them in perfect condition – but no one wants them.

I’m not sure why this bothers me so much – as Nick and Ashley point out, this shouldn’t surprise me, considering I’m in one of the most materialistic countries in the world.  Brand names and such are very important here.  Most of the used stores I went into were selling clothes that had obviously never been worn before.  Even the places that bought clothes sold things for outrageous amounts of money.

Where have all the [poor people] gone?  (props for you if you get the song reference…)  You know, the ones who don't spend $60 on a 'used' shirt?  I know they have to be somewhere in this country.  I just can’t find them.  And for that, I feel really bad, ‘cause they just missed some pretty good clothing.  

Maybe this is why, in one of the richest countries in the world,  people go through the trash.

Well, I’ve been scolded by my Julie-chan for not updating frequently enough.  And it’s true, I haven’t updated in a while.  But for now I’m sitting in McD’s eating my food and so I’ll scribble something down.  I’m ostensibly doing my homework for tomorrow – but I wanted to get out of the house and figured this was as good a place as any to study grammar and kanji.  I told Okaasan I’d be back before dinner, though, so I’ll have to hurry.

It’s not that stuff hasn’t happened – between the shiranai kankokujin (roughly: unknown Korean person) adventure and running afoul of some Swedish girls at a Tokyo hostel, there’s been plenty going on.  And that’s just the stuff outside of class.  There’s also been fun escapades regarding my final projects for Japanese and Translation classes, scary dreams about being unable to graduate… did I mention that my computer crashed?  Followed by, less than 12 hours later, my external hard drive? The one I bought last summer, that has my life for the last 4+ years on it?  All my music, pics, and documents on it? Yeah, that one.  I managed to fix the computer, and actually fiddled with it a bit to make it work better, but the drive has some sort of physical error on it.  It powers up, but can’t be detected, so it just whirs quietly, beeping pathetically every few seconds.  After a while it gives up just and sits, glowing silently. 

The good news is, Seagate is awesome, and will replace it for me.  The bad news is, with that kind of error, I have to get the data recovered professionally.  If it were anything else, I could do it myself, for the low, low price of $129.99.  But since my comp can’t even detect the drive, there’s nothing I can do.  Hmm. I wonder if Lou could help me out here.

As I finish my chicken sandwich, it occurs to me that there are so many things that guidebooks don’t tell you about Japan.  One of these is the intensity of the Japanese fascination with mayonnaise.  I would wonder how they stay so thin – with the amount of mayo they eat, they should be as big as Americans.  But most Japanese food has almost no calories.  You’re full for about an hour, and then hungry again.  (***Interesting Note:  Ashley informed me the other day that in Japan, girls who are our size are referred to as “chubby type.”  Not that we’re particularly skinny by American standards either – we’re both normal size for our height.  But her boyfriend told her this, and was apparently very excited to be dating someone who’s not a skinny Japanese girl). 

So, back to mayo. It’s EVERYWHERE. No, seriously, you think I’m kidding, but I’m not.  It’s the national condiment or something, right up there after soy sauce.  They even put it on pizza.  Yepper, right there on top of the corn.  It’s gross.  Honestly, I haven’t had decent pizza in the entire time I have been here.  Granted, there’s pizza hut and domino’s if you want to pay $30 for what amounts to a medium-on-the-small-side.  People aren’t exaggerating when they say it’s expensive to live in Japan, and it’s mostly because of the food.  Sure, if you want to live on ramen, you can spend a lot less.  You can probably die of scurvy, too.

The fruit here is another thing.  It’s expensive as all get out.  When we were in Tokyo, I saw a fruit stand outside Shinjuku Station, and I pounced.  I bought myself two pomegranates, but as I told Jon when he whined about the unfairness of me having them at this time of year (Jon loves them), don’t be jealous.  I paid about $4 apiece for them.  That’s cheaper than they usually are, by the way.  In the fall, when they were in season, they were $5 each.  People here give fruit as presents, kind of like my grandmother sends our northern relatives oranges for Christmas every year.  Only instead of it being a “Props to us for living in the South” thing, it’s a way to show you have money to spend on spurious things like fruit. 

You know how you eat something supposedly fruit-flavored, and the thought vaguely crosses your mind, “I’ve never had fruit that tastes like this…”  Grape flavoring, especially in soda, is a good example of this.  In Japan, though, the fruit actually tastes like that.  The first time I had Japanese grapes, it weirded me out, because they were grape-flavored, and I had never had grapes that tasted like that before.  It’s really yummy, but generally smaller than American fruit.

As for Japanese guys… there’s another story all together.  The man-bag is not an article of shame here, nor is it lamely and unconvincingly passed off as a “messenger bag.”  Nope, we’re talking over the shoulder, quite possibly metallic, and most definitely purse-shaped, as they stroll down Shijou in tight jeans, carrying their girlfriends’ shopping bags.  Well, some things don’t change from country to country.  My stepdad would look at most of the under-40 male population and swear they were fruity as pears – they’re not, I promise.  But they make the most metrosexual American guys I know look like Bob What’s-his-name, the guy who fixes that old house.  They literally spend as much time on their hair as Japanese women, which is saying something, cause Japanese women rarely leave their houses looking less than perfect.

Not that we agree on the idea of "perfect" - modern Japanese fashion totally boggles my mind.  young women with, as my friends and I refer to them, "skirts that show off their vaginas" are a regular sight, and most people don't so much as bat an eye.  But walk onto a train wearing something as indecent as a tank top that shows your shoulders, or heaven forbid, your midriff, and you can be sure that no sane person will come within 2 feet of you, thus revealing you for the whore you are, even on a crowded morning train.  The obaasan will frown disapprovingly, the okaasan will look away, the schoolgirls will giggle, all pointedly ignoring you.  If you're lucky, and it's not late, you might get to your destination without some drunk salaryman saying anything inappropriate.  Because, you know, all foreign women are loose - especially Americans.

All this, of course, is assuming people even acknowledge you.  I've lived here long enough that I'm comfortable on the trains, to actu just japanese enough that I've lost my gaijin aura, as we refer to it.  Ashley and Ugochi, who are black, still have it.  No one will sit next to Ashley on the trains.  they'll stand around her, but refuse to sit down next to her.  When Nick, Ugochi and I were in Tokyo, we crammed onto packed trains several times.  Nick and I were shoved over to make room, but Ugochi always had a small but definable circle around her - no one touched her.

Being pushed on packed trains - that's a normal occurrence.  The Japanese tell everyone, including themselves, that they are some of the politest people in the world, and to some extent, they may be.  But at other times, they can be very rude.  I can't count the number of times I've been in a crowd, a train, a station - and been shoved by someone impatient to get past.  Not that this doesn't happen as home, but it's different.  There, people notice if you are bigger than they are, if you can't go any faster, and act accordingly.  Not so here - it's the opposite.  If you're bigger, and you hurt or inconvenience someone, it's your fault, always.  That 4'6" or something obaasan doesn't care that you're 2 feet taller, can't see her behind you, and have no way of moving out of her way - you will move, or she will move you.  Heaven forbid she has one of those little carts that always seem to be attached to old people, cause she will plow through a crown to get where she needs to go.  The younger Japanese might throw her a disgruntled frown if they're feeling rebellious, but everyone just moves quickly and says nothing, secure in the knowledge that when they are that old, they too will have such authority.

Sa, I've been writing for so long - I need to get home for dinner.  Happy, Asheqam?

Ps - I'm not really this bitter - but blogging is cathartic, and it's fun to be cynical about all this. 

I’m eating breakfast at McDonald’s trying mostly successfully to block out the jazz music coming thru the speaker I just happen to be sitting under.  I feel like I haven’t written anything in a while, if only because I feel like doing anything besides sleeping is procrastination on my paper.  I gout early yesterday, cleaned my room and unpacked everything I had taken to the apartment, vacuumed, made my bed , the whole nine yards. I went down and had lunch, intending vaguely to go and finish my paper after eating.  I read some of Lucie Armitt’s book, and was sleepy so I decided to take a nap for a couple hours.  No, seriously – I figured I was just sleepy from being full of お好み焼き because I had gone to bed early the night before. I woke up at 8 pm when my お母さん knocked on my door for dinner, told her I would be down in a few, and considered getting out of bed for 30 seconds or so before I fell back to sleep.  I woke up at 1 am, and have been up since then.  I’m restless about not having this paper over my head anymore, so I’m to just bite the bullet and do it today.  Even if I have to go back and rewrite parts of it, it’s better than not having anything.  I’ve got 3 pages, as of now, and I’m shooting for 20, but I think I’m just going to write everything I have and if it doesn’t come to that much, oh well.  With everything I want to say, it should be at least 10, double-spaced, most likely more.  My plan is to finish eating and writing this, find a コンビニ to buy some caffeine, then head back and work until it’s finished. I’m tired of always putting it off, and I have other things I want to do over this break, which has already gone by so quickly.  An inbox full of things to respond to, things to watch, etc. I found a new program I want to try out for cataloguing media, a ton of touristy places to visit, not to mention all the pictures I need to edit and such.

Did I mention I was supposed to figure out what I’m doing after graduation? It occurs to me that even though I want to do my year of service, it might not be possible right now.  I need to work to pay off my loans and my car – after May, I’m not going to have medical insurance or my dad’s money to count on every month.  The job Mamaw was telling me about at ABF is starting to look better  - or at least, some kind of job, because god knows neither of my parents have the ability to help me out.  Not that that really bothers me – I’ve never, for some reason, considered it strange that they can’t take care of me.  It’s just always been that way, and so I’ve grown used to the idea, to the point that I would most likely feel awkward if they tried to – most probably because I know they can’t really afford it.  That’s okay though… I’ll be alright on my own.

Ja, it’s about 9:30, and even though I haven’t written all I wanted to, or even what I had originally planned, I need to get home and working.  I didn’t bring my phone, so I should probably get back soon, since Okaasan said something about going shopping for some things, and I don’t want to be locked out.  It’s nice out, but not THAT nice.

Im sitting here in nick’s apartment and even though I should be working on this paper, I had some thoughts I wanted to put down before I forget them.

I really like my okaasan. She’s a very sweet person, despite being very set in her ideas.  (Apparently, liking umeboshi, as Nick does, is hen.)  Which is actually, one of the things I have been thinking about lately, that bothers me.  Granted, I came to Japan to learn things, and living with a family is part of that.  It’s not that she doesn’t treat me like an adult – she fully admits that I am, but in some senses, I get the feeling that I am still very child-like to her, which bothers me, because I’d pretty much gotten over my feeling of how childlike Japan makes me feel, but then something will happen and I will be right back to it.

I’m apparently different from all 14 other students she has had.  Which seems strange to me – were they all the same? Normally, I wouldn’t mind being different, but in Japan, being different, even for gaijin, is not generally a good thing.  Like, my sleeping schedule. Which, I’ll grant you, is rather odd.  I’m not sure why I have slept so much since I have been here, and it is, I’ll admit, different from the Japanese norm, it’s not bad.  As my okaasan likes to remind me, I came to Japan to learn, and that means changing, adjusting to living with a Japanese family… but am I the only one who has to adjust?  Would it hurt very much if, instead of marking me off as “different” or telling me, as my okaasan does, that I need to つよくなる, they just accepted that maybe all Americans aren’t the same, and perhaps I could teach them something too?

I’m used to being told that I’m strong, and even though sometimes I wish I were not so unreliant on other people, being told I needed to become strong, simply because my sleeping patterns are different, rather irked me.  I’m enjoying my time in Kyoto, but as she reminded me tonight, it’s already half over, and I will not be sad to go back to a place where I’m treated as though I know what’s going on. 

Not that all this isn’t good for me in some way I’m sure – learning to be patient, and being taken down a notch every now and then is all well and good.  And, as I pointed out to Nick last night in a related conversation, probably the reason that her critique of my sleeping patterns hit home is because I myself am not exactly pleased with them. 

All the same, I’ll be glad to return to a place where I’m not gaijin, mentally and physically.

On the train home and I have been surrounded by sweet obaasan; they commented on my long legs and good handwriting (I was practicing my kanji).  Even though I didn’t get much sleep last might I’m not as tired as i thought I would be – I expected to go straight home after my exam;.  Instead I had lunch at rune, and then hung around the kaikan for a bit.  The exam went well, I think – a few kanji and a grammar point I didn’t know, but I already aced the oral part (which was not, in fact, oral, and surprised everyone, including 山岡先生. 

Yesterday was our last day of classes, so I saw Reichert-sensei for the last time – he’s going back to the States.  I really enjoyed his class, and I’ll miss him.  He reminds me a bit of Bullock-sensei, so at times it was like having her around. 

I was half an hour late to kpip yesterday – I woke up late and then had to take a local train.  Then I stopped in front of honganji on karasuma, because the night before I had left a pack of crackers for the man who always sits out front of it.  I’m not sure if he got them or note, but while I was trying to ask him (I’m not actually sure he can talk), the man who helped me when my skirt got caught in my bike saw me and stopped me (long story for another post, but has in part led to me being branded as the person who is always late/skips class)- I think his name is Hazukishi-san.  He had been showing some people around (from NZ, I think, judging by their accents) and introduced me to them and we talked for a few minutes, but I told him I had to go since I was going to be late for class.  He’s a nice person, I hope I see him again.

Wednesday was our last day with 橋本先生… I like the way she teaches, and she was a cool person to talk to.  I’ll miss her too.

 

5:20 pm

Well I have some time to kill before dinner, and since the train interrupted my writing (as usual) I’ll continue this while I’m not doing something else.  To get back to today – I was feeling kinda quiet, and needed to find Uemiya- and Smith-sensei, so I went to the Kaikan. Smith was in his office, so I asked him about his translation class next semester.  It’s the only one I was really excited about taking, and the syllabus didn’t specify a prereq., but I had heard from someone that A class people can’t take it… When I asked him about it, he all but told me he didn’t want me in the class, because he doesn’t think I can do it.  Now, I’ve become used to the idea that I’m in A class, and I’m okay with it; it’s just where I am with my Japanese. But I know for a fact that that is bullshit, because I’ve translated literature before, in a class designed for 4^th level students – and a lot of the time, my translations were just as good as, if not better than theirs.  The whole thing just annoyed me, this writing off without even having ever seen any of my work.  He told me to talk to Nakamura- and Yamaoka-sensei to see what they thought of the idea, and gave me some example readings to try.  When I talked to the sensei, they looked skeptical, but they at least looked more supportive than Smith.  -sigh- Honestly, the more I interact with him, the more confused I am about Crowley-sensei’s recommendation of him as someone I should know.  

I rode back to the Eki down the river, taking pictures for Olga – in her most recent email, she said she wanted pictures of things, so I did some of the Kamogawa.  When I got to the Eki, I took some pictures of it too – it’s a very interesting building.  I might put them together as a photo essay for my Kyoto journal if I have a chance.  There was an interesting craft-fair thing going on, and I watched a guy engraving a lacquer box, which was pretty awesome.