I wouldn't exactly describe myself as manipulative, but I do have a way of getting what I want when I want it. I guess you could call it a talent.
So this table with the two vampire holes was kind of bothering me. Thanks for the tip on wood filler. Will buy some at DIY Store tonight. In the meantime, I covered that part of the table with some magazines and various pieces of mail, and you-know-who was none the wiser.
We have to get our asses in gear regarding this condo because want to make it look presentable by June 3, the day of our housewarming party. So, we went out shopping on Saturday and decided to buy a bench for our table (the one with the vampire holes in it.) We also had to get lace curtains to go beneath our real curtains that we purchased a few weeks ago. They are gorgeous - the real curtains, I mean. A perfect compromise between the ugly (I mean, elegant) floral pattern that he wanted and the simple leaf-pattern that I wanted. In a word, they have an elegant leaf pattern on them, and they are supposed to be green, but they look kind of yellow in the light. Luckily, I happen to like yellow.
We were also in the market for a coffee table, and these are so damn expensive. I kept telling Suk to go down to the DIY center and make one himself, but you know salarymen and their tools. Those two words don't really belong in the same sentence.
We meandered around the store for a while looking at various tables, and Suk in his usual non-impulsive style, was all like, "Not exactly what we had in mind. We should go somewhere else tomorrow."
On Sunday, we went to a different store where we knew there would be plenty of benches to choose from. And it was at this store where we actually purchased the lace curtains. While looking around for a decent coffee table, we came upon ... It.
It was the perfect compromise between the kind of table I had been fantisizing about for months and the kind of table he wanted.
It was country style, lighter color wood. Two benches at a 90-degree angle with a small, square bench in between. The price was within our budget, and they had only 4 left. We sat down at It and discussed the ins and outs of the size, the style, etc. We compared and contrasted it to other tables that we kind of liked. We walked around the store for what seemed like hours, and in the meantime, we found a coffee table that we both liked.
We decided to put the old table in my scrapbooking room so that I can use it as a worktable, which would give me a lot more space to work on, and I won't have to sit on the floor anymore. Plus, we won't have to buy a desk eventually - that was to be my birthday gift.
Eventually, we came back and we bought It along with the coffee table. And the best part of the whole weekend? All compromise and no fights! I couldn't believe my luck.
And it gets better. The two vampire holes will belong to me now. I can blame it on my scrapbooking tools and say it was a total accident...that is if anyone notices them.
Next project that I must finish this week. An A2 size scrapbook page with the theme "FAMILY" that will go in a picture frame. We received a really cool frame from Karen, a friend who moved to the USA recently, and we are going to hang it in the dining area. I have to find photos of his family and my family to put in it.
Max is doing fine, but it not quite there on the housebreaking yet. I need to find ways to manipulate him into doing what I want. Any suggestions?
Monday, May 22, 2006
Friday, May 19, 2006
When Smart People Do Dumb Things
Sssh...don't tell my husband, but I pounded two holes in our kitchen table.
Rather than wait around for him to hang up my pictures and bulletin boards, and going through yet another weekend of nagging, I decided to decorate my scrapbooking/computer area all by my lonesome.
The bulletin board needed two nails pounded into it so that I could properly tie a string across the back. Well, I laid that bulletin board down on the wooden kitchen table,and I pounded. Then I pounded some more. Oh, just a bit more. There.
I tied the string between the two nails, and there you go, ready to hang up on the wall.
But I got interrupted with something way better to do, like watch X-files. Then make dinner. Then eat it. Then sit around and watch more TV. Hang out with dog. Surf the internet. Then clean the house. Finally, at midnight, I found my way back to the kitchen table, and I thought, oh, yes, "must hang the bulletin board before going to bed."
I attempted to lift it off the table, but it wouldn't budge. And I lifted. And I pulled. And I set my knee up on the table and gave it a big pull. There it goes!
Two vampire-like holes in the kitchen table. A bulletin board with nail spikes poking through the front. Do you think it will be obvious to the naked eye?
Time to cover up the table with a cloth and call it good.
(By the way, this is not a brand-new table. We opted to put off buying a table as we had decided to exchange our 4-year old table with Suk's mom's table. Oh. thank. god. I. think.)
Rather than wait around for him to hang up my pictures and bulletin boards, and going through yet another weekend of nagging, I decided to decorate my scrapbooking/computer area all by my lonesome.
The bulletin board needed two nails pounded into it so that I could properly tie a string across the back. Well, I laid that bulletin board down on the wooden kitchen table,and I pounded. Then I pounded some more. Oh, just a bit more. There.
I tied the string between the two nails, and there you go, ready to hang up on the wall.
But I got interrupted with something way better to do, like watch X-files. Then make dinner. Then eat it. Then sit around and watch more TV. Hang out with dog. Surf the internet. Then clean the house. Finally, at midnight, I found my way back to the kitchen table, and I thought, oh, yes, "must hang the bulletin board before going to bed."
I attempted to lift it off the table, but it wouldn't budge. And I lifted. And I pulled. And I set my knee up on the table and gave it a big pull. There it goes!
Two vampire-like holes in the kitchen table. A bulletin board with nail spikes poking through the front. Do you think it will be obvious to the naked eye?
Time to cover up the table with a cloth and call it good.
(By the way, this is not a brand-new table. We opted to put off buying a table as we had decided to exchange our 4-year old table with Suk's mom's table. Oh. thank. god. I. think.)
Monday, May 15, 2006
One Person's Rudeness is Another Person's Physical Disorder
A funny thing occurred during the catered lunch which took place at the shrine. There was much wine, beer and sake, so after 90 minutes of solid drinking and eating, I was a little sleepy. Forgiveable in most circumstances, perhaps.
Towards the end of the meal, SIL and Sensei invited the young Shinto priest to come in, so we could all thank him personally. Then, for some ungodly reason, they invited us to ask questions about Shintoism to the priest. Well, for once, these Japanese people actually HAD questions, and the priest went on and on in detail about the history of the shrine, how one becomes a priest...well, I am not sure what was said after that because I was nodding off...zonked out...long gone.
Suk was constantly tapping my foot and arms to jolt me awake, but it didn't help. People were watching me. The priest was droning on, and people were asking question after question. Then, MIL, turns to me and says, "Why don't you ask a question about the differences between Shinto and Christianity?"
Honestly, I had no questions about that. I already know the differences, but I couldn't even stay awake long enough to think of a polite question. Suk was embarrassed. With only 9 other people there, it was obvious that I was nodding off, which in itself would not have been a crime.
After the priest left, we began cleaning up, and Sensei came right over to ask me if I was bored. Well, not bored. Just sleepy, but there is something else.
I have narcalepsy when it comes to listening to lectures. As soon as someone starts lecturing at me, I fall asleep. It started when I was in college, and I hated it. I tried everything to stay awake, but even in my most interesting, major-related classes where I had read all of the text materials and LOVED the professors, I couldn't control it. I would even sit in the first row of the lecture halls, thinking that my body would be more motivated to stay awake, but it didn't help. To this day, I often fall asleep at meetings, seminars, lectures, etc.
But, Suk thought I was being extremely rude, and he managed to bring it up to me during yet another fight over the weekend. It's not like I did it on purpose! And, you can't expect me to understand what the priest is saying, which makes it even harder to pay attention.
Suk didn't buy the claim that it is a physical disorder rather than a personality characteristic which I could potentially change. He brought up the example of the "sweating incident". He said he sweats a lot, but he cannot control it.
The "sweating incident" occurred at our very own wedding in the States. Imagine a large church filled with 80 of your friends, family and colleagues. The bride and groom are standing at the altar with the minister, and throughout the entire 60-minute ceremony, the groom is sweating so profusely that the sweat is actually dripping from his face. He continually uses a handkerchief to wipe his face, neck and hands. The minister pauses the ceremony to ask if he would like to "take a moment" outside. Later, people joke about it. "Was he scared about getting married?" "Didn't he want to get married?"
According to Suk, he had gone out drinking with some guys the night before for a mini-bachelor party, and though he had not consumed that much alcohol, it was the main reason for his sweat. Other reasons included the fact that he was a little nervous about standing in front of so many people, and that I had I was trembling a bit which caused him to become more nervous.
This reference to the "sweating incident" backfired on Suk because I told him how much embarrassment that incident had caused us, that people still joke about it, and that people actually thought he didn't want to be getting married.
Shocked into submission, Suk had nothing to say. Point taken. Uncontrollable physical disorder. Noted.
He left the room and came back about five minutes later a much nicer and affectionate husband.
Towards the end of the meal, SIL and Sensei invited the young Shinto priest to come in, so we could all thank him personally. Then, for some ungodly reason, they invited us to ask questions about Shintoism to the priest. Well, for once, these Japanese people actually HAD questions, and the priest went on and on in detail about the history of the shrine, how one becomes a priest...well, I am not sure what was said after that because I was nodding off...zonked out...long gone.
Suk was constantly tapping my foot and arms to jolt me awake, but it didn't help. People were watching me. The priest was droning on, and people were asking question after question. Then, MIL, turns to me and says, "Why don't you ask a question about the differences between Shinto and Christianity?"
Honestly, I had no questions about that. I already know the differences, but I couldn't even stay awake long enough to think of a polite question. Suk was embarrassed. With only 9 other people there, it was obvious that I was nodding off, which in itself would not have been a crime.
After the priest left, we began cleaning up, and Sensei came right over to ask me if I was bored. Well, not bored. Just sleepy, but there is something else.
I have narcalepsy when it comes to listening to lectures. As soon as someone starts lecturing at me, I fall asleep. It started when I was in college, and I hated it. I tried everything to stay awake, but even in my most interesting, major-related classes where I had read all of the text materials and LOVED the professors, I couldn't control it. I would even sit in the first row of the lecture halls, thinking that my body would be more motivated to stay awake, but it didn't help. To this day, I often fall asleep at meetings, seminars, lectures, etc.
But, Suk thought I was being extremely rude, and he managed to bring it up to me during yet another fight over the weekend. It's not like I did it on purpose! And, you can't expect me to understand what the priest is saying, which makes it even harder to pay attention.
Suk didn't buy the claim that it is a physical disorder rather than a personality characteristic which I could potentially change. He brought up the example of the "sweating incident". He said he sweats a lot, but he cannot control it.
The "sweating incident" occurred at our very own wedding in the States. Imagine a large church filled with 80 of your friends, family and colleagues. The bride and groom are standing at the altar with the minister, and throughout the entire 60-minute ceremony, the groom is sweating so profusely that the sweat is actually dripping from his face. He continually uses a handkerchief to wipe his face, neck and hands. The minister pauses the ceremony to ask if he would like to "take a moment" outside. Later, people joke about it. "Was he scared about getting married?" "Didn't he want to get married?"
According to Suk, he had gone out drinking with some guys the night before for a mini-bachelor party, and though he had not consumed that much alcohol, it was the main reason for his sweat. Other reasons included the fact that he was a little nervous about standing in front of so many people, and that I had I was trembling a bit which caused him to become more nervous.
This reference to the "sweating incident" backfired on Suk because I told him how much embarrassment that incident had caused us, that people still joke about it, and that people actually thought he didn't want to be getting married.
Shocked into submission, Suk had nothing to say. Point taken. Uncontrollable physical disorder. Noted.
He left the room and came back about five minutes later a much nicer and affectionate husband.
SIL and Sensei's Wedding Extravaganza
I wanted to write about SIL's wedding ceremony, but I don't want to go into much detail about the ceremony itself. I really would rather write about an "incident" that occurred.
Here is a rundown of the day. We awoke at 5:30 to travel to Tokyo and spend the day at a small shrine. Only 8 people were invited - the parents on both sides, the sibling on both sides and his/her wife/husband. We arrived at 8:30 and since there was a lot of downtime before the ceremony would start, I brought my dress, makeup and hair stuff with me and got dressed in one of the private rooms. I decided to do something experimental with my hair, which is normally down or in a simple ponytail. That was the funnest part of the day.
I finished dressing all too soon, and then we family members just waited around for SIL and Sensei to finish dressing. I was afraid to talk much because Suk always gives me dirty looks whenever I say anything mildly inappropriate. Okay, that is a foreshadowing of what is to come.
Turns out the father of Sensei is quite funny and loves to be the center of attention. Unfortunately, he likes to talk about baseball, which is not funny at all to me, but he does laugh a lot and he makes others laugh. He is much different from Sensei who is the quite, observent type.
Finally, SIL came out in all her glory - a beautiful white kimono with the headdress and cap. She had so much makeup on that you could barely recognize her. I think getting married in that kind of costume was something she had always secretly dreamed of, and that is why she paid for Suk and I to have professional photos taken of us wearing those Japanese wedding costumes. I'll add a photo of us later today. (I'm sorry but I cannot reveal the identity of SIL and Sensei due to the nature of their jobs, so no photos of them can be part of this blog!)
SIL and Sensei looked truly happy and calm with each other. I am so glad she found someone like him - really nice and smart, smart enough not to get in her way when she has an opinion about something, and she seems willing to compromise with him. I have to say that according to them, they DO argue and fight, even on their very first date! At least they don't fib like SOME couples we know who go around claiming that they have never had a fight!
On with the wedding. We posed for photos outside, and then proceeded to the shrine for the ceremony. Before the ceremony, the Shinto priest gave us a lecture about what to expect during the ceremony and how to do certain things. Why does he have to do this?
Well, because most Japanese know next to NOTHING about this religion, and the only time they whip it out is for ceremonies like this. Also, it is kind of rare to get invited to an authentic Shinto wedding. It was my second ceremony, but the first time for Suk. (The first wedding I attended resulted in d-i-v-o-r-c-e, so I didn't dare bring that to anyone's attention for fear of bring bad luck to the day, but how many times did people say to me, "Oh, it must be so interesting to experience this part of Japanese culture!" I wanted to say, "You tell me. Is it interesting?")
The ceremony took 40 minutes. There were two priests and an assistant. The young priest did all the work and then played some kind of flute during some parts. Oh my god...I much prefer Christian music with real words about eagles and mountains and ashes. I thought my ears were going to split in half. The old priest got up to do the most important parts of the ceremony, and every time he sat down, his stool would squeak like a loud fart. I wanted to die. (Another figure of speech which Japanese people do use all too often!)
After the ceremony, we noticed it had started to rain pretty hard. We were given umbrellas, and SIL and Sensei looked so cool sharing an umbrella. In Japan, sharing an umbrella with a lover is considered to be the ultra-romantic scenario. Plus, rain is good luck on your wedding day. (It rained on our wedding as well!)
Then, we went back to the waiting room and waited for about 90 minutes while SIL was changed into an orange kimono. They had to redo her makeup and hair, so it took a while. The mothers and Sensei changed into western clothes. Finally, it was time to eat lunch.
This is wear the story begins to get interesting, so I will continue in the next post.
Here is a rundown of the day. We awoke at 5:30 to travel to Tokyo and spend the day at a small shrine. Only 8 people were invited - the parents on both sides, the sibling on both sides and his/her wife/husband. We arrived at 8:30 and since there was a lot of downtime before the ceremony would start, I brought my dress, makeup and hair stuff with me and got dressed in one of the private rooms. I decided to do something experimental with my hair, which is normally down or in a simple ponytail. That was the funnest part of the day.
I finished dressing all too soon, and then we family members just waited around for SIL and Sensei to finish dressing. I was afraid to talk much because Suk always gives me dirty looks whenever I say anything mildly inappropriate. Okay, that is a foreshadowing of what is to come.
Turns out the father of Sensei is quite funny and loves to be the center of attention. Unfortunately, he likes to talk about baseball, which is not funny at all to me, but he does laugh a lot and he makes others laugh. He is much different from Sensei who is the quite, observent type.
Finally, SIL came out in all her glory - a beautiful white kimono with the headdress and cap. She had so much makeup on that you could barely recognize her. I think getting married in that kind of costume was something she had always secretly dreamed of, and that is why she paid for Suk and I to have professional photos taken of us wearing those Japanese wedding costumes. I'll add a photo of us later today. (I'm sorry but I cannot reveal the identity of SIL and Sensei due to the nature of their jobs, so no photos of them can be part of this blog!)
SIL and Sensei looked truly happy and calm with each other. I am so glad she found someone like him - really nice and smart, smart enough not to get in her way when she has an opinion about something, and she seems willing to compromise with him. I have to say that according to them, they DO argue and fight, even on their very first date! At least they don't fib like SOME couples we know who go around claiming that they have never had a fight!
On with the wedding. We posed for photos outside, and then proceeded to the shrine for the ceremony. Before the ceremony, the Shinto priest gave us a lecture about what to expect during the ceremony and how to do certain things. Why does he have to do this?
Well, because most Japanese know next to NOTHING about this religion, and the only time they whip it out is for ceremonies like this. Also, it is kind of rare to get invited to an authentic Shinto wedding. It was my second ceremony, but the first time for Suk. (The first wedding I attended resulted in d-i-v-o-r-c-e, so I didn't dare bring that to anyone's attention for fear of bring bad luck to the day, but how many times did people say to me, "Oh, it must be so interesting to experience this part of Japanese culture!" I wanted to say, "You tell me. Is it interesting?")
The ceremony took 40 minutes. There were two priests and an assistant. The young priest did all the work and then played some kind of flute during some parts. Oh my god...I much prefer Christian music with real words about eagles and mountains and ashes. I thought my ears were going to split in half. The old priest got up to do the most important parts of the ceremony, and every time he sat down, his stool would squeak like a loud fart. I wanted to die. (Another figure of speech which Japanese people do use all too often!)
After the ceremony, we noticed it had started to rain pretty hard. We were given umbrellas, and SIL and Sensei looked so cool sharing an umbrella. In Japan, sharing an umbrella with a lover is considered to be the ultra-romantic scenario. Plus, rain is good luck on your wedding day. (It rained on our wedding as well!)
Then, we went back to the waiting room and waited for about 90 minutes while SIL was changed into an orange kimono. They had to redo her makeup and hair, so it took a while. The mothers and Sensei changed into western clothes. Finally, it was time to eat lunch.
This is wear the story begins to get interesting, so I will continue in the next post.
I'll Kill You
That's a catchy title.
Following is a recent conversation between my husband and me.
Ring...ring.
Suk: Hello.
MandeJ: Hi. I'm gonna kill you.
Suk: What? Wait a minute. Why?
MandeJ: I'm gonna kill you because you left the gate open this morning, and the dog got out and caused damage all over the house.
Suk: Why would you kill me? I don't think that is very nice thing to say. How can you say something like that?
MandeJ: Did you hear me? The dog got out and chewed up the house!
Suk: I am really hurt by what you said. You want to kill me?
MandeJ: It's a common saying...it's something that Americans often say to each other. How could you have left the gate open?
Suk: That's just an excuse. I don't want to hear your excuses. All Americans say they are going to kill each other? I don't believe it. I'm really upset.
MandeJ: Okay, I'm sorry. I should not have said that, but you should know that Americans do say this phrase...a lot. Perhaps I have never said it to you before because I never needed to.
Houston, we are not communicating here!
Following is a recent conversation between my husband and me.
Ring...ring.
Suk: Hello.
MandeJ: Hi. I'm gonna kill you.
Suk: What? Wait a minute. Why?
MandeJ: I'm gonna kill you because you left the gate open this morning, and the dog got out and caused damage all over the house.
Suk: Why would you kill me? I don't think that is very nice thing to say. How can you say something like that?
MandeJ: Did you hear me? The dog got out and chewed up the house!
Suk: I am really hurt by what you said. You want to kill me?
MandeJ: It's a common saying...it's something that Americans often say to each other. How could you have left the gate open?
Suk: That's just an excuse. I don't want to hear your excuses. All Americans say they are going to kill each other? I don't believe it. I'm really upset.
MandeJ: Okay, I'm sorry. I should not have said that, but you should know that Americans do say this phrase...a lot. Perhaps I have never said it to you before because I never needed to.
Houston, we are not communicating here!
Friday, May 12, 2006
I bet she used to be hot!
Remember the post about my sister-in-law (SIL) and her all-too-sudden announcement that she'd be getting married back in January? Yesterday we took the day off work to attend their traditional Shinto ceremony.
Yes, the ceremony was held a THURSDAY at a real shrine. And, for those who live in Japan, let me repeat that. A REAL, authentic shrine - not a hotel with small fake shrine or a tiny wedding chapel just inside the lobby - but a real one deep in the heart of Tokyo.
For the first time in 5 years, I wore a real dress. I was always self-concious about my legs, which are out of proportion to the rest of my body. Why is it that some people who are considered overweight have awesome, muscular legs? Why is it that I (who admittedly am bordering on overweight herself!) have really fat calves? For those of you who reside in the USA, perhaps this doesn't seem like a big deal to you. Living in Japan with all these skinny-minnies, I have grown much more self-conscious about the size of my legs. Anyway, I attended a friend's wedding about a month ago, and my husband was giving me advice about what to wear at the last minute, but we realized that I own nothing appropriate for a Japanese wedding.
The ladies who attend weddings in this country wear the most beautiful outfits, almost always in pastel colors, which could just make you wanna puke under any other circumstance. I wasn't planning to buy one for myself, but a few days before SIL's wedding, I went to Jusco (like JCPenneys) to buy a nice shirt that would match my normal uniform of black pants (that I wear to work every day.) Before purchasing, I thought I should just ask Suk which one was most appropriate for his sister's wedding. He took one look at the shirts I had chosen and said, "Well, the mothers will be wearing kimono, so you have to dress up more. Where are the dresses for weddings?" Oh, great. Do I have to buy one of those fancy pastel numbers?
We quickly found a few dresses and I tried them on. It's hard to find an appropriate size here. Most foreigners have problems. The first year I lived here, I used to get so upset that I had to buy LL size everything! Sometimes LL didn't even fit me, and I would cry about it. And my dress/shirt size is right 15 (Japanese size), but most displays only go up to 15, and usually it's rare to find anything left in that size. (So, someone must be buying them!) Anyway, I got a pink dress and a matching tweed jacket with a fake diamond clasp. PINK!
Me and my mother-in-law. She was SO jealous of my pink dress because she is crazy about the color herself!
Nonetheless, I was quite proud of myself for getting over my complex about my legs. I wouldn't say that I am totally over it, but I decided that since I am turning 30 this year, I should just get over it. People aren't looking at me and saying, "She's hot, except for the legs," anymore. They're looking at me and saying, "I bet she used to be hot." So, what! I am a-okay with that.
Yes, the ceremony was held a THURSDAY at a real shrine. And, for those who live in Japan, let me repeat that. A REAL, authentic shrine - not a hotel with small fake shrine or a tiny wedding chapel just inside the lobby - but a real one deep in the heart of Tokyo.
For the first time in 5 years, I wore a real dress. I was always self-concious about my legs, which are out of proportion to the rest of my body. Why is it that some people who are considered overweight have awesome, muscular legs? Why is it that I (who admittedly am bordering on overweight herself!) have really fat calves? For those of you who reside in the USA, perhaps this doesn't seem like a big deal to you. Living in Japan with all these skinny-minnies, I have grown much more self-conscious about the size of my legs. Anyway, I attended a friend's wedding about a month ago, and my husband was giving me advice about what to wear at the last minute, but we realized that I own nothing appropriate for a Japanese wedding.
The ladies who attend weddings in this country wear the most beautiful outfits, almost always in pastel colors, which could just make you wanna puke under any other circumstance. I wasn't planning to buy one for myself, but a few days before SIL's wedding, I went to Jusco (like JCPenneys) to buy a nice shirt that would match my normal uniform of black pants (that I wear to work every day.) Before purchasing, I thought I should just ask Suk which one was most appropriate for his sister's wedding. He took one look at the shirts I had chosen and said, "Well, the mothers will be wearing kimono, so you have to dress up more. Where are the dresses for weddings?" Oh, great. Do I have to buy one of those fancy pastel numbers?
We quickly found a few dresses and I tried them on. It's hard to find an appropriate size here. Most foreigners have problems. The first year I lived here, I used to get so upset that I had to buy LL size everything! Sometimes LL didn't even fit me, and I would cry about it. And my dress/shirt size is right 15 (Japanese size), but most displays only go up to 15, and usually it's rare to find anything left in that size. (So, someone must be buying them!) Anyway, I got a pink dress and a matching tweed jacket with a fake diamond clasp. PINK!
Me and my mother-in-law. She was SO jealous of my pink dress because she is crazy about the color herself!
Nonetheless, I was quite proud of myself for getting over my complex about my legs. I wouldn't say that I am totally over it, but I decided that since I am turning 30 this year, I should just get over it. People aren't looking at me and saying, "She's hot, except for the legs," anymore. They're looking at me and saying, "I bet she used to be hot." So, what! I am a-okay with that.
Monday, May 01, 2006
Being the Mama of a Mama's Boy
I have come to the conclusion that being a mama of a Mama's Boy is really not so bad. In fact, it is quite flattering, and it is hard to force yourself to try and break the habits created between you and your Mama's boy.
Why did I come to this conclusion? Well, as you know, I often complain about my husband's attachment to his mom and about her encouragement of the whole situation. Well, now that I am the proud mama of a little male dog, I have realized that his attachment to me is really quite endearing. No, not just endearing, it is downright flattering and cute, and I do not see myself ever putting a stop to it.
I read in a magazine the other day about a mom who felt this way, and she wrote that she feels so good because her child can only be comforted by her, cries whenever she leaves the room, wants to follow her everywhere, loves to cuddle up to her, prefers her over other people, and seems so content sleeping in her arms. Well, this is exactly how I feel about my puppy, even if it is does piss other people off. He can keep on being a mama's boy for all his life, and I am not going to break him of it.
(Still trying to break him of the habit of peeing all around the kitchen though!)
Why did I come to this conclusion? Well, as you know, I often complain about my husband's attachment to his mom and about her encouragement of the whole situation. Well, now that I am the proud mama of a little male dog, I have realized that his attachment to me is really quite endearing. No, not just endearing, it is downright flattering and cute, and I do not see myself ever putting a stop to it.
I read in a magazine the other day about a mom who felt this way, and she wrote that she feels so good because her child can only be comforted by her, cries whenever she leaves the room, wants to follow her everywhere, loves to cuddle up to her, prefers her over other people, and seems so content sleeping in her arms. Well, this is exactly how I feel about my puppy, even if it is does piss other people off. He can keep on being a mama's boy for all his life, and I am not going to break him of it.
(Still trying to break him of the habit of peeing all around the kitchen though!)
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
What NOT to do when you own your own place
Here are some warnings for anyone thinking about buying a place:
Do NOT bring anything with sharp corners into your new home. If you do, it will inevitably be knocked over and it will make a huge gouge in your wooden floor. Even something as small will make a sizable gouge.
Do not answer the door when NHK comes calling (and they will...at least once a day.)
If you happen to exchange "greeting" gifts with your next door neighbors, do NOT present them with the exact same thing that they just gave you.
Here are some warnings for anyone thinking about bringing a puppy into their new place:
Do not allow anything soft (rugs, floor chairs, clothing) to sit on the floor for anything length of time in the same vicinity as the animal. He will inevitably pee on it.
Do not take it personally when he chews at the corner of every wall within his reach.
Do not dwell on it when he tears the wallpaper off of part of a wall and exposes the cement and studs underneath.
Do not feel guilty when after weeks of constantly being peed on, the floor develops permanent staining.
Do NOT bring anything with sharp corners into your new home. If you do, it will inevitably be knocked over and it will make a huge gouge in your wooden floor. Even something as small will make a sizable gouge.
Do not answer the door when NHK comes calling (and they will...at least once a day.)
If you happen to exchange "greeting" gifts with your next door neighbors, do NOT present them with the exact same thing that they just gave you.
Here are some warnings for anyone thinking about bringing a puppy into their new place:
Do not allow anything soft (rugs, floor chairs, clothing) to sit on the floor for anything length of time in the same vicinity as the animal. He will inevitably pee on it.
Do not take it personally when he chews at the corner of every wall within his reach.
Do not dwell on it when he tears the wallpaper off of part of a wall and exposes the cement and studs underneath.
Do not feel guilty when after weeks of constantly being peed on, the floor develops permanent staining.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Ode to Smokers
When I first thought about writing this post, I was planning to show what little sympathy I sometimes feel for smokers who have no where to go these days. Since then, I have changed my mind, but let's start at the beginning.
At our old apartment, I had one very strict rule about smoking. No smoking inside was a given, but I did not allow smoking on the veranda as well. This is because verandas in Japan are not typically used for one's leisure. They are used for laundry and garbage, so the last thing I wanted was for our newly-washed clothes to smell like smoke or god-for-bid for our laundry or garbage to catch on fire. I also did not want the risk of smoke-stink to rush inside the house every time one opens the patio door just after smoking. I made Suk smoke outside the entrance door to our apartment. He kept an ashtray can out there, and after much complaining, he seemed to get used to it. At first he was embarrassed, and I said, "If smoking embarrasses you so much, perhaps you should quit."
Then, four years later, we moved to our new condo and since we own the goddamn place, you would think Suk would be able to enjoy the freedom of smoking in front of his own entrance door, but NO. The day after we had moved in, the Condo Association guy was walking around and he rang our door bell. No, it wasn't to introduce himself and welcome us to the building. It was to inform us that ashtray cans should not be left out front as it might cause problems for neighbors. The wind, I suppose could cause ashes to blow onto neighbors' entrance areas. Fair enough.
I truly felt sorry for him as he begrudgingly moved his can to our veranda, but I sternly reminded him that the veranda rule would not be changing. However, we live on the 12th floor and it is a long way down every time he wants to have a smoke. For the first week or two, I never saw him smoking. I know that he attempted to go down to the strip of grass just behind our building a few times, but that proved to be too strenuous. I thought maybe he had quit, or that he had taken to smoking only at work. What a dream either of those scenarios would have been.
But, last weekend, he went out on the veranda to smoke...not once, but twice...and right in front of me. I was not myself though. I had come down with a bad chest cold, and just didn't have the energy to gripe about anything, so I said nothing.
Another thing is that my ultra-annoying new co-worker who tends to make an ass of himself in drinking situations tried to have a debate with me about smoking and how it is his right to smoke, and he doesn't give a shit if it bothers anyone else, and that he's going to die anyway, and that he's been smoking for 23 years and he ain't gonna stop now. There was no arguing with him. What's the point in arguing with someone when he is of no relation to you and you couldn't give two shits whether he lives or dies? Suk, on the other hand, I do care about and I like to give him the argument about how smoking can affect your sperm, and he's always like, "RE-E-E-EALLY?"
At our old apartment, I had one very strict rule about smoking. No smoking inside was a given, but I did not allow smoking on the veranda as well. This is because verandas in Japan are not typically used for one's leisure. They are used for laundry and garbage, so the last thing I wanted was for our newly-washed clothes to smell like smoke or god-for-bid for our laundry or garbage to catch on fire. I also did not want the risk of smoke-stink to rush inside the house every time one opens the patio door just after smoking. I made Suk smoke outside the entrance door to our apartment. He kept an ashtray can out there, and after much complaining, he seemed to get used to it. At first he was embarrassed, and I said, "If smoking embarrasses you so much, perhaps you should quit."
Then, four years later, we moved to our new condo and since we own the goddamn place, you would think Suk would be able to enjoy the freedom of smoking in front of his own entrance door, but NO. The day after we had moved in, the Condo Association guy was walking around and he rang our door bell. No, it wasn't to introduce himself and welcome us to the building. It was to inform us that ashtray cans should not be left out front as it might cause problems for neighbors. The wind, I suppose could cause ashes to blow onto neighbors' entrance areas. Fair enough.
I truly felt sorry for him as he begrudgingly moved his can to our veranda, but I sternly reminded him that the veranda rule would not be changing. However, we live on the 12th floor and it is a long way down every time he wants to have a smoke. For the first week or two, I never saw him smoking. I know that he attempted to go down to the strip of grass just behind our building a few times, but that proved to be too strenuous. I thought maybe he had quit, or that he had taken to smoking only at work. What a dream either of those scenarios would have been.
But, last weekend, he went out on the veranda to smoke...not once, but twice...and right in front of me. I was not myself though. I had come down with a bad chest cold, and just didn't have the energy to gripe about anything, so I said nothing.
Another thing is that my ultra-annoying new co-worker who tends to make an ass of himself in drinking situations tried to have a debate with me about smoking and how it is his right to smoke, and he doesn't give a shit if it bothers anyone else, and that he's going to die anyway, and that he's been smoking for 23 years and he ain't gonna stop now. There was no arguing with him. What's the point in arguing with someone when he is of no relation to you and you couldn't give two shits whether he lives or dies? Suk, on the other hand, I do care about and I like to give him the argument about how smoking can affect your sperm, and he's always like, "RE-E-E-EALLY?"
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Moving Day
I know some people are waiting to hear about the move and our new place along with an update on the MIL, so I'll just start with a short post about the move itself.
We chose a moving company with an elephant for its logo because our condominium recommended that everyone use them. The price was estimated to be about $1200. They told us to be ready to go by 8 am on the moving day.
At 8 am we sat waiting for them, and thought we were about as ready as we were going to get. My husband went outside to buy us a drink from the vending machine and he saw their truck parked outside with two guys in uniform sleeping inside. We wondered why they didn't just come up and get started. We waited another hour (and of course my husband wasn't about to knock on their window and say, "What the hell are you doing?"), and we packed some more things up. Suk was getting really antsy.
Finally, the two sleepers (who looked like they were recent high school grads) came up and rang the doorbell. They informed us that they had been "waiting" for the second truck to show up with the rest of their team. However, while they were waiting, another moving company's truck had shown up and parked in front of the building. They were moving a family into the building and had already started, so we would have wait until they finished. It would take about 90 minutes. "Oooookaaaaay," we reply with doubt.
While we waited, our guys decided to move the dining table and hutch out and take it to MIL's house. They finished that in about one hour, and then they came back and parked...and took another long nap. The other moving company did not finish their job until well after noon. There was no sign of a second truck either.
By noon, my antsy-pantsy husband had been sent to the new place with my SIL and Sensei (her husband) so that they could get started over there. I gave them simple things to do like putting together the dog's cage, put up curtains, put contact paper in the drawers, etc. His mom had also shown up with lunch and he had taken her over to show her the new place as well. I waited for the movers to start working.
At about 1 pm, I happened to be outside talking to a friend when the other moving company finished and pulled out of the parking spot. Our moving guys were still napping, so I went over and knocked obnoxiously on the window and yelled, "Owarimashita yo!" (They're finished!).
Finally, they got started and out of nowhere, the rest of their team appeared, but still no second truck. They began in a whirlwind, taking all the boxes and a few pieces of furniture. By that time, Suk and his mom had come back to help out, but actually, the movers don't need any help. You should just stay out of their way.
Then they informed us that a second truck would not be showing up, and they would have to do the move in two parts since only half of our stuff would fit into the small truck they had. Great! March and April are the busiest times for moving in Japan, so I kind of understood the dilemma, but still. We had been told that our move would only take 3 hours at most!
We went to the new place where MIL set up a picnic lunch on the living room floor and we all ate. She even provided beer! It was nice to just relax and eat her food for a bit. Then, the movers appeared with our stuff and in a whirlwind of excitement, it was decided that I should stay at the new place to direct the movers. Suk and his mom went back to the old place to clean.
I am really grateful for that, but I also felt guilty. Anyway...bygones.
What the movers did that irked me:
1. One of the idiots dropped a box full of glass-bottled spices right in front of me. He swore at the box, and his team leader immediately took the box from him and asked me to open to make sure nothing was broken.
2. Towards the end of the move, (about 8pm!!!) the same idiot came into the living room to fetch me. He needed me to check the position of the bed after they had put it together. His way of fetching me was to walk into the room and just stand there silently until I would notice him.
3. Back in the bedroom, the idiot and his team leader re-positioned the bed, and the team leader advised me to leave a bit of space between the wall and the bed. I replied by saying, "Hai" (yes), and the idiot actually mimicked me!
All in all, it was a good experience...one that I learned a lot from. The move took 12 hours total, but not all of it was work, work, work. I think there was a lot of sleeping and standing-in-line. I wouldn't recommend that moving company to anyone either. But, it is so nice to be a new place that is so easy to clean.
We chose a moving company with an elephant for its logo because our condominium recommended that everyone use them. The price was estimated to be about $1200. They told us to be ready to go by 8 am on the moving day.
At 8 am we sat waiting for them, and thought we were about as ready as we were going to get. My husband went outside to buy us a drink from the vending machine and he saw their truck parked outside with two guys in uniform sleeping inside. We wondered why they didn't just come up and get started. We waited another hour (and of course my husband wasn't about to knock on their window and say, "What the hell are you doing?"), and we packed some more things up. Suk was getting really antsy.
Finally, the two sleepers (who looked like they were recent high school grads) came up and rang the doorbell. They informed us that they had been "waiting" for the second truck to show up with the rest of their team. However, while they were waiting, another moving company's truck had shown up and parked in front of the building. They were moving a family into the building and had already started, so we would have wait until they finished. It would take about 90 minutes. "Oooookaaaaay," we reply with doubt.
While we waited, our guys decided to move the dining table and hutch out and take it to MIL's house. They finished that in about one hour, and then they came back and parked...and took another long nap. The other moving company did not finish their job until well after noon. There was no sign of a second truck either.
By noon, my antsy-pantsy husband had been sent to the new place with my SIL and Sensei (her husband) so that they could get started over there. I gave them simple things to do like putting together the dog's cage, put up curtains, put contact paper in the drawers, etc. His mom had also shown up with lunch and he had taken her over to show her the new place as well. I waited for the movers to start working.
At about 1 pm, I happened to be outside talking to a friend when the other moving company finished and pulled out of the parking spot. Our moving guys were still napping, so I went over and knocked obnoxiously on the window and yelled, "Owarimashita yo!" (They're finished!).
Finally, they got started and out of nowhere, the rest of their team appeared, but still no second truck. They began in a whirlwind, taking all the boxes and a few pieces of furniture. By that time, Suk and his mom had come back to help out, but actually, the movers don't need any help. You should just stay out of their way.
Then they informed us that a second truck would not be showing up, and they would have to do the move in two parts since only half of our stuff would fit into the small truck they had. Great! March and April are the busiest times for moving in Japan, so I kind of understood the dilemma, but still. We had been told that our move would only take 3 hours at most!
We went to the new place where MIL set up a picnic lunch on the living room floor and we all ate. She even provided beer! It was nice to just relax and eat her food for a bit. Then, the movers appeared with our stuff and in a whirlwind of excitement, it was decided that I should stay at the new place to direct the movers. Suk and his mom went back to the old place to clean.
I am really grateful for that, but I also felt guilty. Anyway...bygones.
What the movers did that irked me:
1. One of the idiots dropped a box full of glass-bottled spices right in front of me. He swore at the box, and his team leader immediately took the box from him and asked me to open to make sure nothing was broken.
2. Towards the end of the move, (about 8pm!!!) the same idiot came into the living room to fetch me. He needed me to check the position of the bed after they had put it together. His way of fetching me was to walk into the room and just stand there silently until I would notice him.
3. Back in the bedroom, the idiot and his team leader re-positioned the bed, and the team leader advised me to leave a bit of space between the wall and the bed. I replied by saying, "Hai" (yes), and the idiot actually mimicked me!
All in all, it was a good experience...one that I learned a lot from. The move took 12 hours total, but not all of it was work, work, work. I think there was a lot of sleeping and standing-in-line. I wouldn't recommend that moving company to anyone either. But, it is so nice to be a new place that is so easy to clean.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Jumpstart - Six Weird Things
Christine tagged me, so this will be my grand entrance back into the blogosphere. I have been pining away hoping to find the time to write, and now here I am.
Six Weird Things/Facts/Habits About Me
1. I sometimes call my dog by my husband's nickname by mistake. Suki and Maxy - I suppose that is easy to screw up, but thank god Suki has never heard me say this.
2. I hate playing/watching team sports. I prefer playing sports individually where competing for higher points is not necessary.
3. I love to eat dark chocolate, and I don't care if it's really not that good for me. My brain is convinced otherwise.
4. When I was kid, I used to get hand-me-downs for clothing, so I tried to be really creative with them. I used to wear bow ties with my great-grandfathers button-up vest. The first time I wore that outfit in junior high, I got laughed at, so I stopped wearing such fashions.
5. In 5th grade, I went around speaking what I called "Martian Language" to my classmates. It was just jibberish. To this day, I have no idea why I did that.
6. I used to be addicted to coca-cola, and last year I finally admitted it to myself. That is the first step to overcoming.
That was fun, but a little hard. I would like to tag the following people:
Homesick Home
at a loss for words
andrea in japan
Nanchatte Technojunkie
The Mean Teacher
Here are the rules!
1. Reveal six weird facts/things/habits about yourself and then tag six people.
2. Leave a "You're Tagged!" comment to let the people you have tagged know they have to reveal six things (or the entire blogosphere will explode and it will be their fault).
3. Leave a comment letting me know that you have completed your mission (if you have chosen to accept it!)
Six Weird Things/Facts/Habits About Me
1. I sometimes call my dog by my husband's nickname by mistake. Suki and Maxy - I suppose that is easy to screw up, but thank god Suki has never heard me say this.
2. I hate playing/watching team sports. I prefer playing sports individually where competing for higher points is not necessary.
3. I love to eat dark chocolate, and I don't care if it's really not that good for me. My brain is convinced otherwise.
4. When I was kid, I used to get hand-me-downs for clothing, so I tried to be really creative with them. I used to wear bow ties with my great-grandfathers button-up vest. The first time I wore that outfit in junior high, I got laughed at, so I stopped wearing such fashions.
5. In 5th grade, I went around speaking what I called "Martian Language" to my classmates. It was just jibberish. To this day, I have no idea why I did that.
6. I used to be addicted to coca-cola, and last year I finally admitted it to myself. That is the first step to overcoming.
That was fun, but a little hard. I would like to tag the following people:
Here are the rules!
1. Reveal six weird facts/things/habits about yourself and then tag six people.
2. Leave a "You're Tagged!" comment to let the people you have tagged know they have to reveal six things (or the entire blogosphere will explode and it will be their fault).
3. Leave a comment letting me know that you have completed your mission (if you have chosen to accept it!)
Thursday, March 30, 2006
So much, So little...oh, what the heck
I have so much to write about. I want to write about our experience with the move, our new place, and our puppy, but instead I am going to write about movies.
As some people already are aware of, Suk's one and only hobby is watching movies, talking about movies and going to video stores to rent movies. I also love movies, so often our Saturday night dates consists of dinner and a movie. (Before you say, how nice that is, I want to stress - the grass is always greener! We are not an active couple who go camping, skiing, hiking, white water rafting, etc. together. Oh...how I imagined that kind of fun marriage when I was a kid!)
So, movies it is.
Last December, I reluctantly went and saw King Kong because Suk's company was doing the advertising for it in Japan. We took his mom with us because she loves scary blockbusters. I loved this movie from the first second to the last, and I went around and recommended it to everyone I knew, including all of the people I work with. No one that I know of went and saw it! Can you believe that?! This is the kind of movie that needs to be seen on the big screen. Naomi Watts, whom many people seem to under-estimate, was absolutely amazing. She conveyed all that emotion with nothing but a blue screen behind her and a big mechanical ape hand in front of her with Andy Serkis (the same guy who played Golem in LOTR) making faces at her. She should have won an Oscar for that, and I believe that someday, she will get an award for something. She really is a good actress.
Rent KING KONG if you have not already.
A couple weeks ago, another teacher and I went and saw Crash. It was the last night that it would be playing at the theaters in Japan, and Suk highly recommended it. He had never seen it, but he wanted me to report to him what all the fuss was about. It was an amazing portrayal of the underlying racial tensions that people from all sides feel in the USA. I could totally relate to this movie, and I hope most Americans will admit that they do also. I have seen it happen, and I have seen people completely deny its daily occurrance. I had been looking for an educational movie to show my high school students for their Intercultural Understanding course. This is definitely it. My students go on a study tour every year to Texas where they visit our two sister schools for 2 weeks and they stay with host families. Those students from the sister school also come here to visit us for two weeks. Anyway, some of my kids have commented on the fact that they believed that racism had disappeared from American culture after the Civil Rights movement...until they went to Texas and heard their host students using derogatory names for black people and making fun of them behind their backs. I was shocked as well. I am not blaming Texas, certainly. It is just a concrete example. Anyway, this movie is a must-see.
Last week, on our day off, Suk and I went and saw Brokeback Mountain. We wanted to see what all the fuss was about. It is one of those movies that stays with you for days. On one hand, it was really sad...so sad and hopeless. It just breaks your heart. On the other hand, (warning: this will be graphic), I was shocked by the scene where they do it for the first time. I can't stop thinking about it. 'Nuff said. Go rent it.
Today, I needed to get out of the house because Max and I are in the middle of training, and I have to get him used to being alone for long periods during the work day. We are working our way up to 9 hours. So, today, I needed to leave house for 4 hours, and I decided to go catch a movie since it is ladies day and all. (Ladies Day is once a week, and women get about 800 yen knocked off the ticket price.) I went and saw the Chronicles of Narnia. I had never read the books, so this was something new for me. In fact, it was so good that I think I will tell the story to my kids countless times and make them believe that I made the story up. It was that good.
As some people already are aware of, Suk's one and only hobby is watching movies, talking about movies and going to video stores to rent movies. I also love movies, so often our Saturday night dates consists of dinner and a movie. (Before you say, how nice that is, I want to stress - the grass is always greener! We are not an active couple who go camping, skiing, hiking, white water rafting, etc. together. Oh...how I imagined that kind of fun marriage when I was a kid!)
So, movies it is.
Last December, I reluctantly went and saw King Kong because Suk's company was doing the advertising for it in Japan. We took his mom with us because she loves scary blockbusters. I loved this movie from the first second to the last, and I went around and recommended it to everyone I knew, including all of the people I work with. No one that I know of went and saw it! Can you believe that?! This is the kind of movie that needs to be seen on the big screen. Naomi Watts, whom many people seem to under-estimate, was absolutely amazing. She conveyed all that emotion with nothing but a blue screen behind her and a big mechanical ape hand in front of her with Andy Serkis (the same guy who played Golem in LOTR) making faces at her. She should have won an Oscar for that, and I believe that someday, she will get an award for something. She really is a good actress.
Rent KING KONG if you have not already.
A couple weeks ago, another teacher and I went and saw Crash. It was the last night that it would be playing at the theaters in Japan, and Suk highly recommended it. He had never seen it, but he wanted me to report to him what all the fuss was about. It was an amazing portrayal of the underlying racial tensions that people from all sides feel in the USA. I could totally relate to this movie, and I hope most Americans will admit that they do also. I have seen it happen, and I have seen people completely deny its daily occurrance. I had been looking for an educational movie to show my high school students for their Intercultural Understanding course. This is definitely it. My students go on a study tour every year to Texas where they visit our two sister schools for 2 weeks and they stay with host families. Those students from the sister school also come here to visit us for two weeks. Anyway, some of my kids have commented on the fact that they believed that racism had disappeared from American culture after the Civil Rights movement...until they went to Texas and heard their host students using derogatory names for black people and making fun of them behind their backs. I was shocked as well. I am not blaming Texas, certainly. It is just a concrete example. Anyway, this movie is a must-see.
Last week, on our day off, Suk and I went and saw Brokeback Mountain. We wanted to see what all the fuss was about. It is one of those movies that stays with you for days. On one hand, it was really sad...so sad and hopeless. It just breaks your heart. On the other hand, (warning: this will be graphic), I was shocked by the scene where they do it for the first time. I can't stop thinking about it. 'Nuff said. Go rent it.
Today, I needed to get out of the house because Max and I are in the middle of training, and I have to get him used to being alone for long periods during the work day. We are working our way up to 9 hours. So, today, I needed to leave house for 4 hours, and I decided to go catch a movie since it is ladies day and all. (Ladies Day is once a week, and women get about 800 yen knocked off the ticket price.) I went and saw the Chronicles of Narnia. I had never read the books, so this was something new for me. In fact, it was so good that I think I will tell the story to my kids countless times and make them believe that I made the story up. It was that good.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Another Classic Move by Said Husband II
This will probably become a regular entry.
Let's see...what did he do today.
My parents called tonight which was an extremely rare occurrance. When they call, I am always so sure that someone has died or is going to die soon. Tonight they called to wish us good luck on the move. While on the phone (a record 63 minutes!), the call-waiting buzzed in, but I figured it was my husband since he is the only other person who ever calls and it was 11:30 PM, so I didn't bother to answer. I thought that if I cut my mom off mid-sentence and go to answer the call-waiting on a phone that she is paying for, she would probably say it's time to say good-bye and that would be it. I wouldn't hear from them again for months. Not...taking...any...chances.
After we got off the phone, I promptly called Suk back. He started in on a lecture about how call-waiting works. He is convinced that I have NEVER used call-waiting in my life...as if it is an invention by the Japanese and we primitive Americans don't understand this sort of technology. I explained all of the above pertaining to the phone call, and then somehow an argument ensued about his mother.
Why, oh, why do we always have to fight about his mom? There is a super-complicated situation going on that is related to furniture, and I am not going to bore you to death with the whole story, but basically we are giving her two pieces of large furniture and she is throwing her old furniture away to make room. Guess who is paying for the delivery of this furniture to her house and guess who is paying for the garbage-fee of the furniture she is throwing out? Us. Guess who is receiving two pieces of furniture for free? Her.
So, it seems that she comes out pretty good on this deal, and the reason we got in an argument was because I suggested that she pay the garbage fee herself. Well, low and behold, we can't possibly ask his precious mother to do such a thing! Then a fairly new piece of information was brought forth.
According to the sources (my husband has no memory of this and I had no knowledge until three weeks ago), four years ago, my husband went furniture shopping for our apartment. We had gotten married in the USA, but I didn't move to Japan until 2 months later, so my husband spent that two months looking for an apartment and then furnishing it. He claims to have spent his savings to buy the furniture (and since he was working full time and living at home, I could only assume that he had built up quite a savings). Anyway, recently, his mom informed him that she had taken out a loan to pay for some of our furniture and that she had just recently finished paying it off.
Now, before you say, oh that was so nice of her, I want to scream. Why didn't my husband pay her back? If he wasn't meant to pay her back, would it be considered a gift? We thought we were nice enough to give her this furniture for free, but now she claims that it has always belonged to her? What the fuck is going on here?
And, she came over about a month ago when I was not home. She was complaining to Suk about the marks on the furniture. Well, I thought it was mine and that I could bang it up if I wanted to!
The situation is actually gads more complicated than this, but you are getting the watered-down version. And now for the results:
1. We are paying the garbage fee.
2. My husband is pissed at me.
3. I have stopped packing for the night at his request because he claims that HE will do the REST. He also claims that I totally insisted on doing all the packing myself and that I "wouldn't let him help." Oh, you are going too, too far, Suk.
4. The wedge that has already been driven between me and Suk's family has been driven a little bit deeper, whether they know it or not, but Suk did say that he would be calling his mom to get her version of the furniture story because apparently, I can't be trusted. (And their versions always match, so there.)
I am officially staging a sit-in.
Update: I couldn't resist packing a few more boxes, and Suk didn't get home from work until about 6 am. We have already had 3 fights and several threats of "I'm going to cancel the whole thing." "I'm going to get my own apartment and you can live in the new place by yourself," and other similar such words being thrown back and forth. Status: Suk has now packed the rice cooker into a box. That is the extent of his effort so far.
Let's see...what did he do today.
My parents called tonight which was an extremely rare occurrance. When they call, I am always so sure that someone has died or is going to die soon. Tonight they called to wish us good luck on the move. While on the phone (a record 63 minutes!), the call-waiting buzzed in, but I figured it was my husband since he is the only other person who ever calls and it was 11:30 PM, so I didn't bother to answer. I thought that if I cut my mom off mid-sentence and go to answer the call-waiting on a phone that she is paying for, she would probably say it's time to say good-bye and that would be it. I wouldn't hear from them again for months. Not...taking...any...chances.
After we got off the phone, I promptly called Suk back. He started in on a lecture about how call-waiting works. He is convinced that I have NEVER used call-waiting in my life...as if it is an invention by the Japanese and we primitive Americans don't understand this sort of technology. I explained all of the above pertaining to the phone call, and then somehow an argument ensued about his mother.
Why, oh, why do we always have to fight about his mom? There is a super-complicated situation going on that is related to furniture, and I am not going to bore you to death with the whole story, but basically we are giving her two pieces of large furniture and she is throwing her old furniture away to make room. Guess who is paying for the delivery of this furniture to her house and guess who is paying for the garbage-fee of the furniture she is throwing out? Us. Guess who is receiving two pieces of furniture for free? Her.
So, it seems that she comes out pretty good on this deal, and the reason we got in an argument was because I suggested that she pay the garbage fee herself. Well, low and behold, we can't possibly ask his precious mother to do such a thing! Then a fairly new piece of information was brought forth.
According to the sources (my husband has no memory of this and I had no knowledge until three weeks ago), four years ago, my husband went furniture shopping for our apartment. We had gotten married in the USA, but I didn't move to Japan until 2 months later, so my husband spent that two months looking for an apartment and then furnishing it. He claims to have spent his savings to buy the furniture (and since he was working full time and living at home, I could only assume that he had built up quite a savings). Anyway, recently, his mom informed him that she had taken out a loan to pay for some of our furniture and that she had just recently finished paying it off.
Now, before you say, oh that was so nice of her, I want to scream. Why didn't my husband pay her back? If he wasn't meant to pay her back, would it be considered a gift? We thought we were nice enough to give her this furniture for free, but now she claims that it has always belonged to her? What the fuck is going on here?
And, she came over about a month ago when I was not home. She was complaining to Suk about the marks on the furniture. Well, I thought it was mine and that I could bang it up if I wanted to!
The situation is actually gads more complicated than this, but you are getting the watered-down version. And now for the results:
1. We are paying the garbage fee.
2. My husband is pissed at me.
3. I have stopped packing for the night at his request because he claims that HE will do the REST. He also claims that I totally insisted on doing all the packing myself and that I "wouldn't let him help." Oh, you are going too, too far, Suk.
4. The wedge that has already been driven between me and Suk's family has been driven a little bit deeper, whether they know it or not, but Suk did say that he would be calling his mom to get her version of the furniture story because apparently, I can't be trusted. (And their versions always match, so there.)
I am officially staging a sit-in.
Update: I couldn't resist packing a few more boxes, and Suk didn't get home from work until about 6 am. We have already had 3 fights and several threats of "I'm going to cancel the whole thing." "I'm going to get my own apartment and you can live in the new place by yourself," and other similar such words being thrown back and forth. Status: Suk has now packed the rice cooker into a box. That is the extent of his effort so far.
Friday, March 24, 2006
Once again, it is time to BNM*
*BNM means bitch 'n' moan.
We are on official count-down mode here. In 36 hours, we will be in the middle of moving to our new place. So after a day of hard window shopping and then finally purchasing a long-coveted bookshelf, I returned home to our old place (already calling it that out of mix of nostalgia & annoyance) to several towers of hastily labeled boxes.
I started packing the kitchen last night after making a final pot of curry - something that will last a few days, not only in quantity, but also in aroma. I have been noticing lately how much my age is catching up with me.
I mean, I know that I am only 29 and this summer will celebrate the big 30, but MAN, am I out of shape or what?! I feel sore after sitting in the same position for more than 5 minutes. I get up and my legs have muscle cramps and I have to limp to the next room. Then, after packing the kitchen (only 1/3 of it), I was so sore that I could barely crawl into my freezing-ass bed at 1 AM.
Did I mention the results of my health check a couple weeks ago? Well, I am a 36-year-old trapped in a 29-year-old's body. I have several friends who are in their late 30's, so I certainly don't want to offend anyone. But, if this is rate I am going, by the time I really am 36, I will be 50 on the inside. The saddest thing is that I have not had children yet, so my young, limber body (wherever it went!) will never have the chance to chase her kids around the yard. (Next, I should say that my new resolution is to take up yoga (for real, this time!) and to exercise regularly along with eating a well-balanced diet, but I won't satisfy you all with that kind of unrealistic bullshit. You know I won't do it, and I know that you know, so let's cut the crap.)
In a couple of weeks, after unpacking the house and while still being in the midst of training my new puppy, I will be so unbelievably busy at school with the start of the new year that I will be lucky to even think about food/exercise, other than the food I give to the dog and walks I take him on. Unhealthy I know, but students and dogs take precedence at this time in my life.
My husband often complains that I am the most selfish person in the world. I am SO NOT selfish. Just because I use the word "I" a lot does not make me, me, me a selfish person, right?
Enough of my blathering. I really need to stop reading other people's blogs and get back to work.
We are on official count-down mode here. In 36 hours, we will be in the middle of moving to our new place. So after a day of hard window shopping and then finally purchasing a long-coveted bookshelf, I returned home to our old place (already calling it that out of mix of nostalgia & annoyance) to several towers of hastily labeled boxes.
I started packing the kitchen last night after making a final pot of curry - something that will last a few days, not only in quantity, but also in aroma. I have been noticing lately how much my age is catching up with me.
I mean, I know that I am only 29 and this summer will celebrate the big 30, but MAN, am I out of shape or what?! I feel sore after sitting in the same position for more than 5 minutes. I get up and my legs have muscle cramps and I have to limp to the next room. Then, after packing the kitchen (only 1/3 of it), I was so sore that I could barely crawl into my freezing-ass bed at 1 AM.
Did I mention the results of my health check a couple weeks ago? Well, I am a 36-year-old trapped in a 29-year-old's body. I have several friends who are in their late 30's, so I certainly don't want to offend anyone. But, if this is rate I am going, by the time I really am 36, I will be 50 on the inside. The saddest thing is that I have not had children yet, so my young, limber body (wherever it went!) will never have the chance to chase her kids around the yard. (Next, I should say that my new resolution is to take up yoga (for real, this time!) and to exercise regularly along with eating a well-balanced diet, but I won't satisfy you all with that kind of unrealistic bullshit. You know I won't do it, and I know that you know, so let's cut the crap.)
In a couple of weeks, after unpacking the house and while still being in the midst of training my new puppy, I will be so unbelievably busy at school with the start of the new year that I will be lucky to even think about food/exercise, other than the food I give to the dog and walks I take him on. Unhealthy I know, but students and dogs take precedence at this time in my life.
My husband often complains that I am the most selfish person in the world. I am SO NOT selfish. Just because I use the word "I" a lot does not make me, me, me a selfish person, right?
Enough of my blathering. I really need to stop reading other people's blogs and get back to work.
Saturday, March 18, 2006
Overheard at a Bar (No, wait, I was a part of this conversation!)
Last night, I went out with a group of English teachers, mostly Japanese, and Craig posed this question:
If you could live across the street from anything in the world, what would it be?"
Craig's answer: A brewery
MandeJ's answer: A coffee shop
Mr. O: A movie theater
Mr. K: A ramen shop
Mr. N: A park
Ms. K: A coffee shop, also
Mr. T: A book store
Mr. S: A librarian
Wait, a librarian? You mean, LIBRARY, right?
Mr. S, whose English is almost perfect, says, "No, I mean LIBRARIAN."
If you could live across the street from anything in the world, what would it be?"
Craig's answer: A brewery
MandeJ's answer: A coffee shop
Mr. O: A movie theater
Mr. K: A ramen shop
Mr. N: A park
Ms. K: A coffee shop, also
Mr. T: A book store
Mr. S: A librarian
Wait, a librarian? You mean, LIBRARY, right?
Mr. S, whose English is almost perfect, says, "No, I mean LIBRARIAN."
The One About the Bloody Stumps (and the Sweet Husband)
Ever seen a movie where they remove the boots of a man whose suffering from war wounds and they feet are just bloody stumps? And, then they have to decide whether to cut off his feet or not?
I do not take those movies lightly, but I'll share with you my story about bloody stumps.
Every summer, I go through this phase of wanting to wear high-heeled sandals of some kind, and then I practically kill my feet by putting them up to the challenge at least twice a week. I think, "Oh, I'll get used to it. I mean, look at all those other women who walk around in high heels every day. If they can do it, so can I." Problem is that my feet never do get used to it, and I end up wearing more bandaids that I can count on each foot, and I probably spend more on boxes of bandaids than I did on the sandals themselves.
Then, this January, after coming back from our winter vacation, we went shoe shopping for Suk. But, I found these terrific (low) high heels on sale and I tried all of them on before I finally settled on a pair I liked. I had never owned ultra-pointy high heels before, and I thought this would be a good opportunity to really style it up this winter.
I have only worn them three times, counting today. Each time, I have done the unthinkable - what Christine really hates - I wore them with jeans. Oh, the horrors!
So, today, since Suk and I were going on a date, I wore them because he really likes them. Typical, right? He thinks the clickety-click sound is sexy. I had to walk to the train station because my bike is still parked at work, but I walked evenly and slowly, and I actually made it without too much pain.
I had to run up the escalator to catch the train. Then, stand on train. Okay, still doing fine down there.
I met Suk at the station of our hangout and we walked over the our favorite curry restaurant. Walking a bit slower, but still managing.
We ate buffet-style lunch. Avoiding having to get up and walk anywhere. Asking Suk to get stuff for me sometimes.
Walked back to our favorite coffee shop and sat outside on the benches for a while. Sitting down so everything is a-okay.
We went to a furniture store nearby to (ONCE AGAIN) check out their bookshelves. Ow...pain...sit down on this here nice sofa...yep, just trying it out...okay, how about this one...no, I like this sofa better...good feeling...ow...ow...pain in foot.
Walking back to our coffee shop, I was going much slower, sort of dragging one foot behind me. I said, "Gee, I don't really want to go home yet. Can we stop and have some coffee first?"
"Your feet hurt, don't they?"
Damn, how did he notice?
We sat at the coffee shop for over an hour. My feet resting on the top of my shoes. It started to rain outside, so it gave us the excuse to stay longer.
But, then, Suk's mom called. Where the heck are you? I'm waiting for my bird!
Oh yeah, as a side-note update, Suk and SIL ordered another bird for their mom as soon as the first one ran away. It finally came into the pet store today, and Suk insisted on going to pick it up and bringing it to her personally. He also wanted to pay for it...out of his own allowance. That's a good boy...
So, back to reality, we have to go back to our station, trek over to the pet store by bus, get the damn bird, and somehow take it to his mom's house. It's at times like these when I really wish we had a car...or that I wasn't wearing high heels.
We go to the station, wait for the train, go back to our station, catch a bus to the pet store, which is quite a long walk from the bus stop, mind you, and by this time it is PAINFULLY obvious that I will not make it the rest of the evening if I have to walk anywhere.
At the pet store, we take a look at the bird, Suk pays for it, I sit on a bench and watch the caged dogs for a while, Suk calls his mom and they decide to go get the bird themselves the next day. No more worries about the bird, but Suk is depressed because he really wanted to take it to his mom himself. Damn shoes!!
After that, we walk across the street to the little shopping mall and buy some food for dinner. I can barely make it around the store. All I can think about is how bloody my feet must look by now. Meanwhile, Suk, who has somehow developed MY fear of public toilets, can only think about how badly he has to use the toilet. Both of us are crabby, but trying not to blame each other for it. (That is truly a positive sign that things are improving in our marriage!)
Then, we begin the long walk home (okay, about 10 minutes if you are wearing tennis shoes), but to me, it seems like a lifetime. Halfway there, I begin walking on my tippy toes, kind of like Barbie. If it was a hot, summer day, I would have just carried my shoes and walked barefoot. This was going too slow, and Suk, who still needed to use the toilet, said, "You are never ever going to wear these shoes again." Clickety-click sound isn't so sexy anymore, is it, my dear?
I kindly offered that he go on ahead, but he stuck with me...and he didn't yell at me or cuss me out. (Another good sign!) About 2/3 of the way home, he took off his left tennis shoe and offered it to me. Then, he put my left high heel on (I am sure that his foot barely fit inside it), and we walked on like that for about 5 minutes. This time he was walking a little slower than me, but oh god, MY left foot felt instant relief.
Then, he couldn't stand it anymore, and he offered to trade so that he could wear my right high heel and I could wear his right tennis shoe. Since we were very nearly home by that time, I gave him his shoe back and wore by high heel from hell back to our apartment.
So, the question is...will I ever wear those bloody-stump-makers again? Probably, but I will be sure to pack lots of bandaids and maybe an extra pair of tennis shoes in my bag.
I do not take those movies lightly, but I'll share with you my story about bloody stumps.
Every summer, I go through this phase of wanting to wear high-heeled sandals of some kind, and then I practically kill my feet by putting them up to the challenge at least twice a week. I think, "Oh, I'll get used to it. I mean, look at all those other women who walk around in high heels every day. If they can do it, so can I." Problem is that my feet never do get used to it, and I end up wearing more bandaids that I can count on each foot, and I probably spend more on boxes of bandaids than I did on the sandals themselves.
Then, this January, after coming back from our winter vacation, we went shoe shopping for Suk. But, I found these terrific (low) high heels on sale and I tried all of them on before I finally settled on a pair I liked. I had never owned ultra-pointy high heels before, and I thought this would be a good opportunity to really style it up this winter.
I have only worn them three times, counting today. Each time, I have done the unthinkable - what Christine really hates - I wore them with jeans. Oh, the horrors!
So, today, since Suk and I were going on a date, I wore them because he really likes them. Typical, right? He thinks the clickety-click sound is sexy. I had to walk to the train station because my bike is still parked at work, but I walked evenly and slowly, and I actually made it without too much pain.
I had to run up the escalator to catch the train. Then, stand on train. Okay, still doing fine down there.
I met Suk at the station of our hangout and we walked over the our favorite curry restaurant. Walking a bit slower, but still managing.
We ate buffet-style lunch. Avoiding having to get up and walk anywhere. Asking Suk to get stuff for me sometimes.
Walked back to our favorite coffee shop and sat outside on the benches for a while. Sitting down so everything is a-okay.
We went to a furniture store nearby to (ONCE AGAIN) check out their bookshelves. Ow...pain...sit down on this here nice sofa...yep, just trying it out...okay, how about this one...no, I like this sofa better...good feeling...ow...ow...pain in foot.
Walking back to our coffee shop, I was going much slower, sort of dragging one foot behind me. I said, "Gee, I don't really want to go home yet. Can we stop and have some coffee first?"
"Your feet hurt, don't they?"
Damn, how did he notice?
We sat at the coffee shop for over an hour. My feet resting on the top of my shoes. It started to rain outside, so it gave us the excuse to stay longer.
But, then, Suk's mom called. Where the heck are you? I'm waiting for my bird!
So, back to reality, we have to go back to our station, trek over to the pet store by bus, get the damn bird, and somehow take it to his mom's house. It's at times like these when I really wish we had a car...or that I wasn't wearing high heels.
We go to the station, wait for the train, go back to our station, catch a bus to the pet store, which is quite a long walk from the bus stop, mind you, and by this time it is PAINFULLY obvious that I will not make it the rest of the evening if I have to walk anywhere.
At the pet store, we take a look at the bird, Suk pays for it, I sit on a bench and watch the caged dogs for a while, Suk calls his mom and they decide to go get the bird themselves the next day. No more worries about the bird, but Suk is depressed because he really wanted to take it to his mom himself. Damn shoes!!
After that, we walk across the street to the little shopping mall and buy some food for dinner. I can barely make it around the store. All I can think about is how bloody my feet must look by now. Meanwhile, Suk, who has somehow developed MY fear of public toilets, can only think about how badly he has to use the toilet. Both of us are crabby, but trying not to blame each other for it. (That is truly a positive sign that things are improving in our marriage!)
Then, we begin the long walk home (okay, about 10 minutes if you are wearing tennis shoes), but to me, it seems like a lifetime. Halfway there, I begin walking on my tippy toes, kind of like Barbie. If it was a hot, summer day, I would have just carried my shoes and walked barefoot. This was going too slow, and Suk, who still needed to use the toilet, said, "You are never ever going to wear these shoes again." Clickety-click sound isn't so sexy anymore, is it, my dear?
I kindly offered that he go on ahead, but he stuck with me...and he didn't yell at me or cuss me out. (Another good sign!) About 2/3 of the way home, he took off his left tennis shoe and offered it to me. Then, he put my left high heel on (I am sure that his foot barely fit inside it), and we walked on like that for about 5 minutes. This time he was walking a little slower than me, but oh god, MY left foot felt instant relief.
Then, he couldn't stand it anymore, and he offered to trade so that he could wear my right high heel and I could wear his right tennis shoe. Since we were very nearly home by that time, I gave him his shoe back and wore by high heel from hell back to our apartment.
So, the question is...will I ever wear those bloody-stump-makers again? Probably, but I will be sure to pack lots of bandaids and maybe an extra pair of tennis shoes in my bag.
Friday, March 17, 2006
Another Classic Move by Said Husband
This is our last weekend to pack before the big move. Next weekend, on Saturday, we will go and pick up the key. Then, we'll have to day to finish packing. On Sunday, the movers will come early and pick up the stuff, so we can either go over the new place and help them, or we can stay here and finish the cleaning.
SIL (sister-in-law) and Sensei (her new husband) will be here to help out. They are planning to come over from Tokyo the day before and spend the night at Suk's mom's house, so that they can come over early the next morning. So, Suk had this bright idea to go over to his Mom's house to eat dinner with everyone on Saturday night.
What!?
He has used every excuse in the book to get out of helping me pack and clean. Last weekend, he just had to go over to his Mom's and have a "meeting" with her about two pieces of furniture we are giving her. These "meetings" seem to be a tradition in his family as they always have to meetings about everything...including things that really have nothing to do with anyone except me and Suk. I didn't go that time. I stayed home and packed some more boxes.
And, as you can guess, since a little argument about this Saturday-night-before-we-move dinner at his mom's house ensued, Suk claimed that he would be spending all of tomorrow alone outside, so there goes another day of potential assistance he could have given me.
Now, I know what some of you might be thinking. We would probably get in fight over how he packs boxes or god for bid, how he labels them, but it's just the principle of the thing.
SIL (sister-in-law) and Sensei (her new husband) will be here to help out. They are planning to come over from Tokyo the day before and spend the night at Suk's mom's house, so that they can come over early the next morning. So, Suk had this bright idea to go over to his Mom's house to eat dinner with everyone on Saturday night.
What!?
He has used every excuse in the book to get out of helping me pack and clean. Last weekend, he just had to go over to his Mom's and have a "meeting" with her about two pieces of furniture we are giving her. These "meetings" seem to be a tradition in his family as they always have to meetings about everything...including things that really have nothing to do with anyone except me and Suk. I didn't go that time. I stayed home and packed some more boxes.
And, as you can guess, since a little argument about this Saturday-night-before-we-move dinner at his mom's house ensued, Suk claimed that he would be spending all of tomorrow alone outside, so there goes another day of potential assistance he could have given me.
Now, I know what some of you might be thinking. We would probably get in fight over how he packs boxes or god for bid, how he labels them, but it's just the principle of the thing.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Eyes Aglaze
I realize that I may have invented the word "aglaze," but it refers to being forced to listen to someone drone on and on about something you care nothing about.
What is wrong with me? Am I abnormal for not being at all interested in topics like the latest on computer technology and laws, or the political relationship between Taiwan & China or the differences between Chinese kanji, Korean kanji and Japanese kanji. Look, people, I could not care less.
What if I give you a spontaneous lecture on the ins and outs of scrapbooking designs and techniques or the latest celebrity gossip? Okay, I admit it. I am not that smart, at least when it comes to the topics mentioned above, but I would blow your ass out of the water if the topic of scrapbooking or celeb gossip ever came up.
Is it because I am getting older and therefore less interested in what others have to say? Or, have I always been this way? And, on a non-related note, how can I politely let someone know that I am utterly and totally uninterested, now and forever, in what they are talking about?
What is wrong with me? Am I abnormal for not being at all interested in topics like the latest on computer technology and laws, or the political relationship between Taiwan & China or the differences between Chinese kanji, Korean kanji and Japanese kanji. Look, people, I could not care less.
What if I give you a spontaneous lecture on the ins and outs of scrapbooking designs and techniques or the latest celebrity gossip? Okay, I admit it. I am not that smart, at least when it comes to the topics mentioned above, but I would blow your ass out of the water if the topic of scrapbooking or celeb gossip ever came up.
Is it because I am getting older and therefore less interested in what others have to say? Or, have I always been this way? And, on a non-related note, how can I politely let someone know that I am utterly and totally uninterested, now and forever, in what they are talking about?
Friday, March 10, 2006
A Human Dock
This morning, I went in for my annual health check. Up until now, I have always gone to a hospital and just gotten an X-ray to check for tuberculosis. However, this year, perhaps because I am turning 30 or because my 3-year teaching license is being renewed, I was told to do the health check at the city public health office.
It started out fairly pleasantly. Everyone was super kind and smiley. I had to change into a pair of short pants and a Japanese-style shirt that ties in the front.
Urinanalysis
This could have been uneventful, but it wasn't. Someone had left a huge, stinky present in one of the Japanese-style toilets, and it caused the entire bathroom to reak. I thought I was going to throw up. Obviously that person has problems, and this is precisely why I feel extremely uneasy about using public toilets, especially those that look as if they might not flush.
X-Ray
After that, I felt like I would throw up, but I hoped the feeling would fade. The x-ray technician said hello to me when it was my turn, and I said "Onegai shimasu." This means, "Please" in Japanese, and it is a very commonly used phrase. He responded by saying, "Oh, you can speak Japanese so well." I said, "I only said one word." He said, "Oh, well...whatever."
Blood
They drew three viles of blood, and I asked the woman what my blood type is. My husband and his family have been asking me for years, but I have NO idea what it is. I don't really want to know because I would rather not be categorized like that. Plus, the topic of blood-type comes up in family-dinner conversation at least ONCE each time. They are so proud of the fact that they all have B-type blood. I know one thing though. I do NOT have B-type blood. I am nothing like them. Anyway, the woman said I would find out later today, but I didn't. I guess I have to wait until the results of all the tests get sent to my school.
Eyes
I had to do the eye test, and she said I have 1.5. Whatever that means. She said it was good. Eye tests here are pretty cool because you have to look at a circle with an opening and tell them whether the opening is on the top, right, bottom or left of the circle. Anyone can do it even if they are illiterate or dyslexic.
Ears
I had to go into a sound booth and put on headphones. Then, I had to listen for the beeps and press a button every time I heard them. Way better than hearing tests I had growing up. I have bad hearing, so I always failed those tests and had to go and have additional tests done. Luckily, I passed this one.
Weight/Height
They checked my weight/height and blood pressure here.
Lung Capacity
Here, you take a breathing test, and you have to breathe into a tube. They measure how much air you can take into your lungs.
Heart
I had to walk up and down this little set of stairs. Each step has a light and when the light goes on, you should be stepping on that step. The lights speed up and slow down, and you have to do for what seems like 10 minutes, but is probably only 2 or 3 minutes. Then, they check your heart by putting these electric nodes on your chest, arms and ankles. It is intense.
After that, the cardiologist talked to me and told me it looked fine, but that I am a little overweight. Actually, what he said was, "Taijuu wa ne...chotto." Well, maybe I am just having a fat day.
I was pretty exhausted by this point, but I still had a couple more checks to do.
Heart Rate
I had to ride a stationary bike for about 8 minutes while wearing a blood pressure cuff and a bunch of electric nodes on my torso. They make you ride until your heart goes up to 160, no matter how long it takes. I was sweating like a horse by time I was finished.
Various (Weird) Checks
I had to wait around for quite a while after that. Finally they called me and two other people in to do the last test. This is a series of 6 tests, including the following:
Strength test
Jumping test
Flexibility test
Balance test
Reflex test
Movement test
I have no idea what to call that last one. I had to run side to side on a mat, and she would count every time my foot went past a black line on either side.
I have really bad knees, plus I am slightly overweight (at least compared to Japanese people), so these tests were not easy for me. I suppose I should eat less and exercise more. I should not sit in front of a computer or my scrapbooking desk so much every day. And, I should eat a little less chocolate.
This last series of tests really did a number on my body. I felt like CRAP for the rest of the day, and I still have a sideache. I haven't had a sideache since gym class in high school when they forced us to run laps. I think I really did hurt myself somehow.
It started out fairly pleasantly. Everyone was super kind and smiley. I had to change into a pair of short pants and a Japanese-style shirt that ties in the front.
Urinanalysis
This could have been uneventful, but it wasn't. Someone had left a huge, stinky present in one of the Japanese-style toilets, and it caused the entire bathroom to reak. I thought I was going to throw up. Obviously that person has problems, and this is precisely why I feel extremely uneasy about using public toilets, especially those that look as if they might not flush.
X-Ray
After that, I felt like I would throw up, but I hoped the feeling would fade. The x-ray technician said hello to me when it was my turn, and I said "Onegai shimasu." This means, "Please" in Japanese, and it is a very commonly used phrase. He responded by saying, "Oh, you can speak Japanese so well." I said, "I only said one word." He said, "Oh, well...whatever."
Blood
They drew three viles of blood, and I asked the woman what my blood type is. My husband and his family have been asking me for years, but I have NO idea what it is. I don't really want to know because I would rather not be categorized like that. Plus, the topic of blood-type comes up in family-dinner conversation at least ONCE each time. They are so proud of the fact that they all have B-type blood. I know one thing though. I do NOT have B-type blood. I am nothing like them. Anyway, the woman said I would find out later today, but I didn't. I guess I have to wait until the results of all the tests get sent to my school.
Eyes
I had to do the eye test, and she said I have 1.5. Whatever that means. She said it was good. Eye tests here are pretty cool because you have to look at a circle with an opening and tell them whether the opening is on the top, right, bottom or left of the circle. Anyone can do it even if they are illiterate or dyslexic.
Ears
I had to go into a sound booth and put on headphones. Then, I had to listen for the beeps and press a button every time I heard them. Way better than hearing tests I had growing up. I have bad hearing, so I always failed those tests and had to go and have additional tests done. Luckily, I passed this one.
Weight/Height
They checked my weight/height and blood pressure here.
Lung Capacity
Here, you take a breathing test, and you have to breathe into a tube. They measure how much air you can take into your lungs.
Heart
I had to walk up and down this little set of stairs. Each step has a light and when the light goes on, you should be stepping on that step. The lights speed up and slow down, and you have to do for what seems like 10 minutes, but is probably only 2 or 3 minutes. Then, they check your heart by putting these electric nodes on your chest, arms and ankles. It is intense.
After that, the cardiologist talked to me and told me it looked fine, but that I am a little overweight. Actually, what he said was, "Taijuu wa ne...chotto." Well, maybe I am just having a fat day.
I was pretty exhausted by this point, but I still had a couple more checks to do.
Heart Rate
I had to ride a stationary bike for about 8 minutes while wearing a blood pressure cuff and a bunch of electric nodes on my torso. They make you ride until your heart goes up to 160, no matter how long it takes. I was sweating like a horse by time I was finished.
Various (Weird) Checks
I had to wait around for quite a while after that. Finally they called me and two other people in to do the last test. This is a series of 6 tests, including the following:
Strength test
Jumping test
Flexibility test
Balance test
Reflex test
Movement test
I have no idea what to call that last one. I had to run side to side on a mat, and she would count every time my foot went past a black line on either side.
I have really bad knees, plus I am slightly overweight (at least compared to Japanese people), so these tests were not easy for me. I suppose I should eat less and exercise more. I should not sit in front of a computer or my scrapbooking desk so much every day. And, I should eat a little less chocolate.
This last series of tests really did a number on my body. I felt like CRAP for the rest of the day, and I still have a sideache. I haven't had a sideache since gym class in high school when they forced us to run laps. I think I really did hurt myself somehow.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Staaaaa-baaaaaa
Recognize that word?
That's how we refer to "Starbucks" in Japanese.
It is my second favorite coffee shop, and I often go there because it is every where you look. Last summer, my friend gave me a Starbucks card for my birthday, and after the initial 1500 yen ran out, I have been adding money to it so I can keep using it.
One problem though. I never add more than 1000 yen at a time, so the next time I go to Starbucks and order my obigatory cafe mocha short size and chocolate chunk cookie, I have to pay the difference because 1000 yen just doesn't cover two visits to Starbucks. I always end up putting more money on the card just to cover my order.
And this happens repeatedly. They probably think of me as the "stingy card-carrying foreign woman."
So, yesterday, I was in Omotesando and I needed to eat something for dinner, so I went to STA-BA- and ordered the same thing I always get...to go. They put the cup in a bag with one of those green stoppers on it to prevent leakage.
It was pouring really hard outside, and I had no umbrella, plus I was in a huge hurry. So I took the cookie out and ate it while running down the street to my destination.
I think the running is what caused the green stopper to pop out of the coffee lid. Oh wait...I'm rushing through this story.
I arrived at my destination with my hair, coat and purse soaking wet. I am still holding the bag of coffee. I'm standing there waiting for my appointment and hoping that I can get a seat on the couch as soon as those ex-pats leave. Finally, they leave and I sit down on the couch. I realize that I need to fill out a form, so I set my coffee bag on the couch next to me. I still have not taken a sip because I've been too frazzled until this point. I grab a clipboard and dig for a pen to fill out the form.
While I am filling it out, I think, "Oh, I should down the coffee while I still have a few minutes."
I reach into the bag and pull out the cup. The bottom is soaked in coffee and the little green stopper has popped out and is just hanging there. I take one sip when it occurs to me that the coffee MAY HAVE leaked.
I look inside the bag and sure enough, the bottom of the bag is completely soaked. I lift the bag and see that the couch now has a large wet spot on it. Not just a wet spot, but a brownish wet spot.
My solution to the problem is to take the coffee and the bag into the bathroom. I dump the coffee into the sink and throw everything away. I go back out to the waiting room and see that there are coffee puddles over the floor. I go back into the bathroom to get toilet paper so I can wipe it up when I notice there are coffee puddles all over the bathroom floor as well as the counter.
I look down at my light khaki pants and see they are coffee stained, but LUCKILY (and this is the only bright spot in the story), the stain is at the cuff and you can always attribute that to mud.
Didn't I order the short size? Should I tell them that I just stained their couch? Would I be considered a liar if I just don't mention and hope that no one notices?
That's how we refer to "Starbucks" in Japanese.
It is my second favorite coffee shop, and I often go there because it is every where you look. Last summer, my friend gave me a Starbucks card for my birthday, and after the initial 1500 yen ran out, I have been adding money to it so I can keep using it.
One problem though. I never add more than 1000 yen at a time, so the next time I go to Starbucks and order my obigatory cafe mocha short size and chocolate chunk cookie, I have to pay the difference because 1000 yen just doesn't cover two visits to Starbucks. I always end up putting more money on the card just to cover my order.
And this happens repeatedly. They probably think of me as the "stingy card-carrying foreign woman."
So, yesterday, I was in Omotesando and I needed to eat something for dinner, so I went to STA-BA- and ordered the same thing I always get...to go. They put the cup in a bag with one of those green stoppers on it to prevent leakage.
It was pouring really hard outside, and I had no umbrella, plus I was in a huge hurry. So I took the cookie out and ate it while running down the street to my destination.
I think the running is what caused the green stopper to pop out of the coffee lid. Oh wait...I'm rushing through this story.
I arrived at my destination with my hair, coat and purse soaking wet. I am still holding the bag of coffee. I'm standing there waiting for my appointment and hoping that I can get a seat on the couch as soon as those ex-pats leave. Finally, they leave and I sit down on the couch. I realize that I need to fill out a form, so I set my coffee bag on the couch next to me. I still have not taken a sip because I've been too frazzled until this point. I grab a clipboard and dig for a pen to fill out the form.
While I am filling it out, I think, "Oh, I should down the coffee while I still have a few minutes."
I reach into the bag and pull out the cup. The bottom is soaked in coffee and the little green stopper has popped out and is just hanging there. I take one sip when it occurs to me that the coffee MAY HAVE leaked.
I look inside the bag and sure enough, the bottom of the bag is completely soaked. I lift the bag and see that the couch now has a large wet spot on it. Not just a wet spot, but a brownish wet spot.
My solution to the problem is to take the coffee and the bag into the bathroom. I dump the coffee into the sink and throw everything away. I go back out to the waiting room and see that there are coffee puddles over the floor. I go back into the bathroom to get toilet paper so I can wipe it up when I notice there are coffee puddles all over the bathroom floor as well as the counter.
I look down at my light khaki pants and see they are coffee stained, but LUCKILY (and this is the only bright spot in the story), the stain is at the cuff and you can always attribute that to mud.
Didn't I order the short size? Should I tell them that I just stained their couch? Would I be considered a liar if I just don't mention and hope that no one notices?
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