An art student travels to Osaka, Japan. There he finds himself trapped in awkward situations, confusing classes, and comically small spaces.
Hilarity ensues.
Sometimes in order to find the right way to do something you must first figure out all the wrong ways. Today I found all the streets in Osaka that don't lead to my apartment. Good thing Osaka is gorgeous: I finally made it back to my apartment after half an hour of what seemed like hopeless wandering - writing at this point would be about as fun to write as it would be to read, so I'm going to get some rest.
Full impressions of the flight, Osaka thusfar, and everything else come tomorrow.
Here's where I say it's one day until I leave for Japan... but really I'm leaving in a few hours. Oh well!
So I took pictures of every thing I'm taking abroad. I was going to include an extensive list - but it's five thirty in the morning. Frankly, I would rather not. Instead I present them to you sans narration:
Super blog entry in a few days, folks. See you then! Read more!
Tomorrow I'm going to post pictures of every single thing I'm taking abroad. They'll be here.
The day after that I'm leaving.
While I'm traveling I'm going to write something every hour - stream of consciousness. I won't have web access for a little while, so I'm going to return with a crazy huge blog entry when I do.
Also, there's going to be tons of pictures! Shit's gonna get crazy.
Read more!
Ted: :) -Sara, I had a really nice time last night.
Sara: lol -I did too I guess. Calm down.
Ted: ;) Also I am sexually attracted to you. I wanted to be more overt about it, but making text genitalia on a number pad is tough.
Sara: ... You can't be sweet and emotional and lewd and sexual at the same time, Ted. The dichotomy is freaking me out.
Ted: wut? An ellipsis? What the hell does that mean? She had a good time, right? I think I saw her touch her hair, like, at least twice. And when we were walking she kept bumping into me! Yeah, no, she's just screwin' around.
Ted: D: Oh god, what did I say? Fuck! Alright, maybe if I make another face she'll think I'm still being lighthearted and fun. She's probably just being coy. She'll be all ";D" and I'll be all "lol!" And no more text messages... stay in control Ted...
Ted: ru ok? That's legitimate, right? She could be in danger! Oh god please write something...
If you've been wondering who the fellow up top is, his name is Taro Aso, and he's the prime minister of Japan. He's fluent in english, a crack shot with a gun, and apparently reads manga*.
Also he occasionally says something extremely ill-advised - like in 2001 when he said he'll turn Japan into a place where "rich Jews" will want to live.
But really all I care about is that he makes all manner of silly faces. Is this the way Japan felt about Bush?
I have a fondness for megaman. Well, ok, maybe an obsession. A light obsession.
It all started when my brothers rented Megaman X. Back then the house videogame dynamic was pretty simple: they game, I watch. And when I watched megaman I knew that it was the greatest thing to ever exist ever.
Every time we went to blockbuster I would beg my parents to let me rent it. I made rounds collecting dropped pennies and couch change - anything to get my $3.50 megaman fix.
For years I fantasized about being megaman - well Zero really (he's like megaman but more badass because he has a sword). My life would be so amazing! Jumping twenty feet in the air, launching giant drills at cracked walls to collect powerups, sliding under bullets and arking lightning spheres at my foes - it was a welcome alternative to leggos*.
megaman pins firmly affixed to my man-bag
Someone annoys me? No problem. A little charge time and I can send a boulder-sized laser ball of death their way. After it connects maybe I'll filter through the smouldering ash pile - all that remains - for health pickups or spare bolts.
To this day I find myself secretly raising an outstretched arm in the direction of my enemy, fist clenched.
Activate, laser arm! Activate!
video *Not to trash leggos. I love leggos. Just, well, they aren't very effective against giant evil robots. Read more!
It's strange.How should I feel? Excited? Nervous?I'm torn. Part of me wants to get out of here as fast as possible.
The grating boredom of this place has left me with nothing to do but try and make up rap songs to the metered drip of raindrops ticking off the drainpipe. The results are lackluster. For a moment I think that I'm lucky there isn't anyone around to hear it... but no, I'm ready to be around people again.
The other part of me - the sentimental part(?) - wants to clamp onto the floorboards for dear life. As of today the house is back on the market. When I come back to America it's very likely I won't be returning here at all. I'll be transplanted to a couch in my mom's new living room.
And who will live here?
A young family, probably. As they survey the cracked tiles and stained floors they'll probably wonder how the previous owner let it get this bad.
Best they don't find out that the black stains on the hardwood floors were borne out of a neurotic young puppy's stagnant urine.
Maybe they'll notice the poorly patched holes in the walls - a side effect of too tall adolescents who didn't know how to be angry.
Maybe before I leave I'll take a look through the house and catalog these things: the scars my family has left on this house during our time here. The further I am away from them the faster I forget them - and these are things that, for better or worse, I shouldn't forget. Read more!
I finally made it back to my apartment after half an hour of what seemed like hopeless wandering - writing at this point would be about as fun to write as it would be to read, so I'm going to get some rest.
