Something to be said for the little things

Funny how little things can change your mood so thoroughly.

I woke up @10:30 after going to bed @6am that morning, dreading the planning I'd need to do for 25HR's final exam as well as English summer camp prep and finally grading the journal entries for my regular ninensei students. My mood was not helped by feeling guilty and ill-prepared for my violin lesson that afternoon, since I hadn't practiced at all the past week, and my intention to hang out my laundry was foiled by the rain that comes on like tap water in the summer months.

However, I was determined to get some practice in and to do my best during my lesson so that my teacher wasn't so disappointed in me. Somehow though, things quickly turned around. At first, I told her that I was having trouble with stacatto, a method of applying pressure on the bow at the beginning of the bowstroke and then releasing it for the remainder of the stroke. She observed, pointed out that I was putting too much pressure and corrected my technique. I quickly got the hang of it and she praised me, saying, Wow, you must've practiced a lot! (^_^;) but still, it was good. Then she showed me the new measure (my homework for the week) to develop rhythm and let me try it out. I tried to mimic her and again quickly got the hang of it, which prompted her to praise me for being a quick study! So we left it at that, once again feeling like, I CAN do this, all I need is practice and I'll be able to play.

After that, I headed back down to the basement of Parco to buy a couple snack items, since something in the deli caught my eye as I was walking to the elevator on the way to my lesson. At first, I saw that what had originally looked tasty was really just a Japanese-style beef stew, but I spied some marinated olives that I thought would be a yummy snack either tonight or tomorrow for lunch. I intended a quick walk-through just to see what else they had in the way of foreign foods since I'm well-versed in what Kaldi at the station has in stock.

I was pleasantly surprised to find white balsamic vinegar and herbes des Provençe vinegar and went back for a basket when I realized I might need one...It kind of went downhill from there, but in a good way. A very good way. I picked up some truffle oil and truffle pate, and then found the cheese corner where they were having a small sale. The cheese lady offered me a taste of one of the cheeses when she saw that I was scoping it out. It was good, but a bit like cream cheese with herbs (suitable for the Japanese palate since they don't like strong cheeses), but a bit weak for me. I continued to look some more and she kept offering me samples of them. I finally gathered the courage to ask her which one might be good with the Chablis I bought the other night, and she tried to help me. I'm not sure that she was that knowledgeable about cheese-wine pairings, but she was still really nice and friendly so I bought some cheese and said that I'd probably stop by again in the future.

After that, I was going to call it quits when I thought I glimpsed red globes of radishes in the produce aisle. Radishes, thanks to the French and blog writers, have become my new addiction, and I only had three left in my fridge, so I thought I'd pick some up. Again, it turned out that my far-sight was wrong and they were only cherry tomatoes, BUT above them was a GIANT zucchini and a more normal-sized summer squash. I had to have both. I rounded off my impromptu grocery shopping with a super-long baguette (a real one, not one of the Italian loafs that they pass off for them in my normal grocery store) from the bakery and left for the eki. It was then that I realized, many girls tend to medicate themselves with retail therapy after feeling down, and that while I do like to shop, for me buying good, quality food trumps all the stylish clothes in the world.



The icing on the cake was that, as I got to the station, I got a peep at the outside sky and whereas I had gone into Parco amidst grey clouds cloaking everything in their perpetual dreariness and threatening to drop more moisture from the air, the skies had almost magically turned clear and bright blue. Absolutely lovely, and suited my lifted spirits.

The End...

Unfortunately, no happily ever after involved.

I finally did it. Or I guess we finally did. What you may ask? The other big milestone in a relationship, after the L-word and the engagement leading to that happily-ever-after: the breakup.

It happened a few weeks ago. It was pretty good as far as those things go: no recriminations, no bad feelings. We simply realized that we weren't getting what we needed from one another and that if we were to stay in it longer, the good will we had for each other would deteriorate into frustration and resentment, if not worse.

So, we ended on a good note, and we're still 'friends'. Though I am relieved that one of the benefits of having a long-distance relationship is that now, we won't accidentally run into one another on the street. As things stand, we don't have plans to see one another until August for a concert.

I've broken down a few times, but usually I'm fine. I don't know if it's because I'm blocking it out, living in denial because I don't have to deal with it. I don't have to see him. I've definitely been acting out afterward, but in a much healthier way than I used to previously. No making out with random boys, just starting violin lessons and going to badminton every week.

I still have feelings for him, but I know that it would be pointless to try to get back together, at least not while the situation remains the same: living hours and prefectures apart. Who knows what might happen in the future? Maybe we'll end up living together in France, maybe we'll end up together after all. But it's a future I'm not holding my breath for. Rather, I take one breath after another with each subsequent day helping to heal my bruised, but not broken heart.

Gadgets, Guzen and Good Eats

Gadgets:
Today I went to Shiz after work to find out about getting an iPhone. I've been thinking about it for ages, but never has the incentive been greater to switch from Docomo to Softbank. Travis and Pin both have Softbank and they have a White Plan which allows free calls to between members before 9pm, a rarity in Japan, so it would already be worth it for me. Now however, they just began a campaign where it's free with a two-year contract.

I told Travis and he gave me a scare when it seemed like he would get one before me, which pushed me past my anxiety about talking to them in Japanese. It was easier than I expected and they were surprisingly friendly and not pushy about getting me to stay with Docomo. When I said I wanted to switch to Softbank, the customer service rep nodded knowingly and guessed, iPhone?

All I needed was to show them my gaijin card, they typed some info in, and printed off a slip of paper for me to show Softbank. Turns out, I could keep the same number though I do have to change emails, and I could continue to use my phone until I got my new contract set up. Pretty sweet.

I went to Softbank, but it was a bust b/c I didn't have my gaijin card and bank passbook AND passport AND hanko (personal seal). So I've got to go back when I have all of that with me, but it doesn't seem too difficult.

Guzen:
I didn't go alone though. I had company, Chaz aka @GuzenMediaJapan on Twitter. It was funny how I met him. He was a first for me. We began following one another on Twitter because we were both Shizuoka ALTs and had messaged a bit, but nothing significant.

Then last November, while I was attending a skit contest at a nearby university, one of the ALTs there that I didn't recognize came up to me and asked, "Hey, do you teach in Kambara?" "Uh, yes..." "Are you on Twitter?" Again, "Uh, yes..." "Oh, I'm Chaz! Guzen?" "Oh, hi! Nice to finally meet you in person!" All the while thinking, Wow my first real-life Twitter meet-up. This is kinda cool. And really nerdy.

Anyway, after that, we had exchanged keitai emails and messaged a bit more frequently, but still nothing too big. Today though, none of my usual Zu (Shimizu) Crew could meet up for dinner, and on a whim, I asked him if he was free this evening. He was, so we met up and got acquainted in person.

Good Eats:
Stacey ended up opting out of soccer so she caught up with us at the Thai restaurant (the REAL Thai place). At first, I didn't know what to tell her about Chaz, or what he'd be like, but we all ended up having a good time. Apparently he was friends with a bunch of Filipinos back in VA, and LOVES Hawaii so we had those two things in common with him. Plus, he regaled us with stories from his 13 years of teaching in Japan, another shared bond. It was impressive to see how confident he is in himself and his goals as an English teacher. Maybe if I stayed another 10 years, I might be a bit like that. Not much to say about dinner despite the title though, other than it was excellent as always and now I'm nearly unpleasantly full.

The one thing I realized after the evening though: I've been spending a lot of time with the same people, the same friends. Not that I don't love them, or hanging out with them or Travis, but for the last 2 months, I've ONLY been out with them. I haven't really seen my other friends. Not other ALTs, not my J-friends. I've got to fix that. So maybe the last G in my title should be 'Goals' instead.

Bonne Anniversaire...

...to me. Haha, no to Japan.

I was looking through some of my old blog posts a couple of nights ago when I saw the one titled 'Sayonara Seattle.' I got a bit of a shock when I looked at the post date: March 3, 2006. Three years ago to the day. I wrote it while sitting on the plane to Nagoya.

It was the first time I'd flown abroad since my family immigrated to the US, and only my second time flying alone. I was anxious and excited and a bit worried, but I didn't need to be. I fell in love with the city and the country. Obviously, it's why I find myself still here 3 years later.

It's a strange thing though, recalling that time. Before I came to Japan, it was as if it didn't exist. It was simply a name, a series of images and sounds. Obviously I know it existed, but it was as if it wasn't a real place (for me) until I touched down. Now, it's real in a very tangible way and I find myself looking forward to all those countries I want to visit/live in in the future. All of those visions waiting to be realized.

So, a toast:
To dreaming...

The Plague and the Aftermath

So yesterday, I felt like I was dying at school. Or rather, I described it as going through everything associated with a hangover, without the benefit of having gotten drunk the night before. I got cheated. I came home as soon as possible from work, took a bath and lay in bed for most of the evening.

My phone went off around 7pm and I was surprised when I saw my parents' number come up on Caller ID. I was even more surprised when the first words out of my mother's mouth were, "Sarah, are you okay?" I thought, Do I sound that bad? How did she know I felt like crap? and blurted out, "No, I'm feeling kinda sick," before I knew it.

Apparently though, it was less a testament to my mother's observational skills as it was to her superstitious-ness. She had had a dream with me in it and was worried, so she wanted to check in and make sure I was all right. Normally, I'd kind of make fun of her for that kind of thing, but just earlier in the day, I had been thinking about how it'd be nice if someone was at home to take care of me. I'll admit it, I wished I had my mom around.

So, we had probably one of the best talks in my life: frank, unconfrontational, caring. It was a surprising. I spent the rest of the evening feeling much better.

God, what do you write?

I've been slowly preparing myself to say goodbye to my san-nensei in the last month. I think I've been doing all right. I even told Travis last night when we were on the phone talking about it that I was feeling better about it because I was certain that I would still keep in touch with my some of my students after they graduated. Getting a chance to talk to and hang out with my students that graduated last year in recent days has been helping.

But I pointed out that it was still not the same as getting to see them every day. Pretty soon their hallway will be filled with different students and the transfer will be complete.

And now, this morning, the teacher in charge of sado-bu (tea ceremony club) gave me the stuffed animals that were to be their graduation present and asked me to write a message on them. She told me I had until the end of 3rd period.

It's more than half-way through 1st right now, and I haven't gotten any farther than writing their nickname on the first doll. Anyone who's met me, or reads this blog for that matter knows that I'm rather verbose, but today, I feel speechless. I don't know what to say to them.

I don't know how to say goodbye.

I thought I'd gotten better at it after 2 and a half years. I thought that I'd know the right things to say, to write when the time came.

I don't.

Do I try to be funny and light-hearted? Serious and inspiring? Sweet and nostalgic? What memory do I leave them with, after all the memories they've given to me?

Missing You

Pin likes to tease me about growing up in Seattle and wonders how I'm still alive, because "doesn't everyone kill themselves in the winter?" This year, I spend most of my time with friends from the warm, sunny places of the US: California, Florida, Hawaii. It was with not unreasonable envy that I looked over their photos from Christmas break and saw sunny, clear blue skies, while I sat stuck indoors because of a foot or more of snow. But that was freak cold weather, at least for Seattle.

The last few weeks though have presented me with the cold, gray, overcast/rainy days that I come to expect from the winter season. The days I was familiar with. The ones of my childhood.

Today was another such day. It assailed me with an overpowering sense of homesickness. Or maybe not homesickness as much as Pat-sickness. I was looking through my photos and I saw some from Christmas '07 and then ones from this past Christmas. I can't believe how quickly the time between them passed. All those missed months, moments, memories...

I know that it's my choice to stay out here, and that it will continue to remain my choice to stay away, but sometimes it sucks. It sucks that my best friend is half the world away and that I talk to him infrequently at best. It sucks that he isn't here to see all the things that make up my life in Japan, or meet the people that populate it. That we can't go out for a cup of coffee or a drink as our ritual and share our troubles with life and love.

But, ever-the-optimist, I search for the silver lining, no matter how elusive it is, especially in clouds as slate-grey as the ones outside. I have hope that our friendship is stronger than the accumulated experiences we share; that we remain connected despite the distance; that we are more than the sum of our parts.

I guess that's the answer to Pin's question. What else would it be but Hope?

A Blood-Red Flower

I know I'm a few days late, but I just thought I'd share some love and my favorite quote on the subject. It's from a book by Olive Shriner:

"I don't know much about love," she said, "and I do not like to talk of things I do not understand; but I have heard two opinions.

Some say that the Devil carried the seed from hell, and planted it on the earth to plague men and make them sin; and some say that when all the plants in the garden of Eden were pulled up by the roots, one bush that the angels had planted was left growing, and it spread its seed over the whole earth, and its name is love.

I do not know which is right, perhaps both. There are different species that go under the same name. There is a love that begins in the head, and goes down to the heart, and grows slowly; but it lasts until death, and it asks less than it gives. There is another love, that blots out wisdom, that is sweet with the sweetness of life and bitter with the bitterness of death, lasting for an hour; but it is worth having lived a whole life for that hour.

I cannot tell, perhaps the old monks were right when they tried to root love out; perhaps the poets are right when they try to water it. It is a blood-red flower with the color of sin, but there is always the scent of a god about it."

Happy Valentine's all, I hope you appreciate (and smell) love in its many forms.

Nuanced

sympathy: /ˈsɪmpəθi/ (noun) feelings of pity and sorrow for someone else's misfortune
Origin: (via Latin from Greek) sumpatheia, from sun- 'with' + pathos 'feeling'

empathy: /ˈɛmpəθi/ (noun) the ability to understand and share the feelings of another
Origin: (from Greek) empatheia, from em- 'in' + pathos 'feeling'


One thing I've always prided myself in was my empathy. It's the reason why I can be such a cry-baby when I watch movies or read books sometimes. I can't help it. I put myself in the character's shoes and all of a sudden I can't see past what it must be like for them: the frustration, the despair, the heartache, the grief. I imagine all the thoughts that must be running through their heads. I don't just imagine them though, I think them. I think about what it would be like if I heard the words they were hearing. It's worse when it's not just a fiction though; when it's a living, breathing person; when that person is my friend. My heart breaks with each torn inch of theirs.

That was what ultimately deterred me from going into psychology. I didn't think I had the emotional strength to withstand the battering of my patients' emotional baggage. But on the other hand, it's one of my strengths. I'm able to listen to others and see through their motivations and rationalizations. I'd rather be thin-skinned than thick. On that path lies apathy which is:

apathy: /ˈæpəθi/ (noun) absence or suppression of passion, emotion, or excitement; lack of interest in or concern for things that others find moving or exciting.
Origin: (from Greek) apathīa from a- 'without' + pathos 'feeling'

Spring Break and the PI

No, PI does NOT stand for Private Investigator. PI stands for the Philippine Islands, i.e. the archipelago southwest of Japan, the archipelago that I currently inhabit. It is also my ancestral home, my birthplace, my homeland. It is the place of my dreams, not memories, because I was too young to form any that remain. It's an odd thing...to see photos of yourself in a place and have no recollection of it or having ever been there. You have to take others' word. You take it on hearsay.

Pin suggested that Katy, Stacey, Brian, he and I go somewhere for spring break. One of the possibilities being the PI. I think that I've either been underestimating or just not realizing how much of an effect going to the PI might have on me. Honestly, it wasn't until Pin mentioned it last night that I remembered that it WOULD be my first time back...and I might not be ready to do that with a group of friends. I think I've been so focused on how my mom and family would react, that I didn't bother to think about how I would.

I think I would feel, and even though I know that he and the rest of them would tell me that I don't have to feel thus, responsible for everyone. Not just responsible because I can understand what people say when they're not speaking in English, but responsible for making sure everyone has a good time, because it IS my country. I don't know if I'm ready for that, especially never having been there since I left. I'd feel as much a stranger as they would, but I'd feel obligated not to be.

Tense

The mood in the school, seemingly normal and status quo, tightens perceptibly as I speak to the the san-nensei. While the rest of the students seem to be relaxing as they hit the home stretch of their first and second years at Ihara, the third years (and their teachers) are dissolving into a ball of nerves and tension over their fates and futures. The talks with their homeroom teachers become more frequent as they take and prepare for one university's exam after the next.

This being my third year, I've seen and experienced it to some degree with the students that have graduated before, but this year, this is my babies' year. My favored 35HR, whom I will always still think of as 15HR. I know that as a teacher, you're not supposed to have favorites, but this class, this is the one that I felt I grew up with. They were the first Japanese students I met and taught.

I still remember how nervous I was as I headed up to the mountains of Yamanashi-ken for our English Summer Camp. I'd been in Japan less than a month and my mind was still adjusting to the NEWNESS of it all, and trying to grasp that I was A TEACHER. I didn't feel like I was. I certainly didn't think of myself as one. But my students made me feel at ease and I immediately welcomed them into my life, my heart.

It feels a bit odd to not be leaving the school with them. I feel that I've learned and struggled in my time at Ihara right along with them. Watching them grow up, grow older, GROW has been one of the most defining things in my experience at Ihara. It is with great sadness that I will watch them leave, but also with great pride and belief in them and their bright futures.

My one consolation for staying behind is that, as graduates, I can more freely hang out with them out of the strict confines of high school. I hope that some of them at least remember me; I know I will never forget them.

The Value of No Planning

I think I'm starting to feel old, as my crazy acts get spaced farther and farther apart. I remember in my first year heading off to Tokyo, clubbing all night and doing it again the next one, simply on a whim. That same year, Albert and I took a midnight walk across the bridge to Fuji, two towns away. Last night (and a girl from Australia) reminded me of how fun it is to be impetuous.

For the last week and a half, my former Australian exchange student, Jessica, has been staying at my house. She was the exchange student in my first year and she and I got along and managed to keep in touch since then. She arrived with her friend Kay last Monday, and though Kay went back last Saturday, Jessica's still here as my temporary roommate until the end of the month. Despite being 7 years younger than me, we get along well and it's fun having another person in the house. Back to last night...

I had come home from work amazed that it was Thursday yet again, and wanted to spend a quiet evening indoors due to the rainy weather outside. I was planning on making soup for dinner, watching a movie and catching up on the sleep that I seem to be constantly missing these days. Things didn't go according to plans, to say the least.

First, though I had laid out my ingredients for the soup I was going to make, I kept getting distracted by entering into conversations with Jessica about people at Ihara, friends and friendships, and differences between Japan and Western countries. Eventually, I got to the point where I didn't want to make the soup after all and was contemplating busting out one of the instant Korean ramen packs that I had purchased at Kaldi over the weekend.

Jess brings up sakura-ebi (the tiny cherry blossom-colored shrimp that my little town is famous for) and how she wanted to eat it. I mention wanting unagi (grilled eel) because of passing by the unagi restaurant the other day and seeing the bentos (boxed lunches) that the teachers had ordered yesterday from the place.

We decide to see if we can get them to deliver to the house, since they have both sakura-ebi and unagi, but since I didn't have their number or didn't remember their name, we embark on an online search for the restaurant. Somehow, we manage to find it and miraculously, they have a website. We spend some time looking at the menu and trying to make out the items listed. Finally, we call the place, but they don't deliver at that time. However, they ARE open for another 40 minutes. I suggest the possibility of taking a cab and we run with it. I call a cab, change in a whirlwind 5 minutes and we're out the door and on our way.

We were the only two people in the place, but we paid no attention and enjoyed the deeply satisfying meal. We left the place realizing how close it was to Shin-Kambara station and that we could've saved ourselves the cab-ride and just trained it, but such is hindsight. We begin walking back to the eki, feeling full and accomplished, but I spy the sign for 696 Cowboys and point it out to Jessica.

I had told her about it a little: it's the only bar in Kambara, cowboy-themed (yes, I did say that: COWBOY-themed), and owned by a friend of a friend who loves Elvis. She wanted to check it out, so we head in. She falls in love with it and we decide to get a couple drinks. The drinks multiplied and before I know it, Yan (the owner, who is a professional caricaturist) has done caricatures of the both of us, and managed to get me up on stage to sing "Born to be Wild" and "Country Roads" with him, the waiter (who plays drums apparently) and some other customer on bass.


We headed home on last train. Jessica's decided that she's going to make it her regular haunt while she's in town and I'm definitely planning on coming back again. Sometimes, spontaneity pays off.

Clueless?

So a few weeks before I left for Seattle, I met two Japanese girls through a friend who had gone to the zoo with them earlier in the day. We ended up hanging out and shopping around downtown Shizuoka. They seemed like nice, friendly girls even though they were a few years younger than me.

Over the course of getting to know one another, I revealed my passion for cooking and my desire to go to culinary arts school in France. They were rather excited by this, being recent college graduates with little experience cooking for themselves. They asked me to teach them to cook sometime, which I readily agreed to, assuming that it would happen in the vague, distant future that 'sometime' seemed to imply. I was wrong. Apparently, 'sometime' means 'as soon as possible.'

Since I've been back, I've gotten 3 messages via Facebook and my keitai asking when we're going to do it. I'm normally one of the more...energetic people that you'll meet, especially in regards to food and cooking, but the girl that's been messaging me is a bit too...enthusiastic even for me.

I told Travis that it's a bit like your little sister wanting to tag onto everything you do because she thinks it's cool. He said he'd never had a little sister so he couldn't relate to the analogy, so I tried another. "She's that nerdy kid that you reached out to once because you wanted to give them a chance, and then became your constant hanger-on."

Am I wrong for feeling claustrophobic when I get these messages?

The L Bomb

Sooooo...I dropped it the other weekend.

If you don't have any idea what that means, I'll give you a hint. It refers to a particular boy from Seattle/Wenatchee, currently residing in Gunma. Get it now?

It had nearly slipped out a few times when we were saying goodbye online and on Skype while I was in Seattle. Nearly, but I managed to catch myself since that's not really something you say for the first time when you're on the other side of the largest ocean in the world, unless of course, you permanently live on opposite shores. Luckily, we don't and he's in Japan, albeit 6 hours away.

My flight came in on the afternoon of the 6th. We met up in Tokyo station and trained it back to my house together. I was going to start school the next day, luckily just opening ceremony scheduled, but he had about an extra week so he decided to spend it with me, even though I'd be working during the day.

Actually it worked out quite well because, while it began with a joke about him being my 'house-husband', after he went out for some errands and we made dinner together, he decided that he rather preferred it. Which was good because when I tried to do the same thing at the end of summer vacation, I concluded that I wasn't cut out for the housewife lifestyle. Seriously though, it wouldn't be such a bad situation: he, being a writer, could write and run errands during the day while I, as a chef, would work and 'bring home the bacon'.

I guess it was those thoughts of the future, as well as his sending me flowers in Seattle for our anniversary AND flowers to my family for the holidays, that prompted me to say those very scary, very fragile three words.

For the first few days, it had been on my mind but like I said, they are scary words to utter, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to say them. I came close a few times, but always shied away. Finally, one night we were in my goro-goro room, since the kerosene heater was there, and I missed sleeping in a futon after three weeks of being in my Seattle bed. We had hung out for most of the day, played a game of shogi (Japanese chess), and I was lying on top of him when he asked (as we routinely do of one another), "Why do you put up with me?" I hesitated for a minute, looked into his eyes and replied, "Because I love you."

I've never been more scared of anyone's reaction. My boyfriends have always said it to me first and that takes off an unbelievable amount of pressure. Of course, I guess I didn't really need to worry about it because he reacted in typical fashion: treated it like a joke and poked my nose. Not that I was really expecting him to say it back either. I just felt like, my feelings were what they were, *disirregardless* of his feelings, and I wanted him to know how I felt.

Decisions

Today, I had the first of my ichi-nensei classes for the week. We were continuing the New Year's Resolution/Occupations chapter we began last class. I decided to combine the resolutions with a time capsule by having them reflect on important events of 2008 in the world and their lives, 3 resolutions about different things and lastly what they want to be doing when they're 20, 30 and 70 years old. They'd put them in envelopes and address them to themselves. Then, in either 6 months or a year, I'd give them back to them, depending on if I re-contracted or not.

It was an idea that I adapted from an activity that my JET Program coordinator had us do during our Seattle pre-departure orientation. She had us write down our goals and reasons for going to Japan, address it to ourselves and then promise to not open it until February (about 6 months later and halfway through our contract). She did this because she had been on JET and she knew that that time is one of the most difficult, primarily because of the cold weather and secondly because you're at one of the lowest points of the culture shock cycle. She wanted us to wait to open it until then so that we'd be reminded of why we came to Japan and to check our progress in accomplishing the goals we'd made.

Needless to say, it made quite an impression on me. So I modified it for my kids. It had an unintended consequence on me however. As I said, I was undecided as to whether to stay for a fourth year or not, and would either return the letters to my students before I left in July/August, or a year from now. This morning when we were explaining the activity to the students, I felt like I needed to give them a concrete timeframe for when I'd return it, and right then and there, I told them I'd give it back to them a year from now.

Right after I said it, I thought, Shit, I said it out loud. But then I thought, well, wasn't it just two days ago when I was walking back from the train station that I felt happy and content with everything in my life? I know that I could take it back, after all they probably won't remember it a year from now, much less in a month. Maybe it's naíve that I would hold myself to such a flimsy deadline, but maybe a promise to my students is more binding than one given to anyone else.

Settling

So it's been over a week since I've been back, and I think I finally FEEL back.

Seattle was fun though slightly disappointing because of being snowed in for 2 out of the 3 weeks I was home. The weather has not been kind to me in the last month. But the pictures of a white Christmas were nice, and I did catch up on a lot of movies and American TV. Plus, I got to spend a lot of time with my neice Kyla, which is all too precious of a commodity these days. My dad seemed all right and about the same, though my mom seemed to imply otherwise in some comments, along with the ever-present desire that I come back to Seattle.

The thing is, it's not going to happen. While I liked seeing my friends and family, being back there only made me realize how much I want to be in Japan. Partly because I love having a place of my own, partly because I love living abroad, and most importantly because I LOVE living in Japan.

While I was home, I met up with Ryan, an ALT from Gunma that I met briefly in Tokyo for a friend's birthday celebration consisting of a night of clubbing and post-dancing Italian food, and my boy Branden. I guess because both of them are of Japanese descent, their ties to Japan are much stronger than mine, yet I find it odd that I'm the one that's stayed and is staying here for longer. Neither of them has much desire to travel or live in other places. I on the other hand, continue to want to go anywhere, everywhere. Hmm, that's proving a rarer quality in people that I'd previously thought.