Causes fires and kills people
Apr. 20th, 2004 02:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maypirateOliver, what was that link again? Tell me you wrote it down.
Um...wrote a linguistics paper in half an hour to Kevin`s dismay, and soon, soon I will be done, yes, done precious.
Have yet to ask my parents about visiting Pairaka. Must check funds. Went on crazy deleting binge on DA. Deleting art so refreshing and saddening at the same time.
And now, in honor of NICK!!!!!`s birthday, I post for him the infamous article that I wanted to put in the newsletter but didn`t, compose entirely from LJ quotes of AKP students:
I was focusing on the ruder forms and here’s what I was able to come up with:
Today it is supposed to be 20 degrees Celsius...whatever that means in Fahrenheit. My futon is being floofed in the somewhat cloudy weather. It’s actually rather unimpressive; it looks something like a fort made out of sticks.
My kerosene just ran out.
Four days in a row I bought ramen, and four days in a row, I dumped vileness into the trash can.
This is most unfortunate for people who must deal with me on a daily basis. “Moss is really cool” and “My host mom’s favorite season is fall,” are some choice examples of topics of conversation. I’m behind in the times. It’s not my fault Japan is really weird. Even if the schoolchildren -two highschool girls with the shortest skirts I have ever seen, and really amazing loose socks- do point and laugh at the weird gaijin.
Apparently when they put you in the cremator you can see all your organs on display right before they turn into blood red ashes, much like yakiniku. I’m really not a morbid person at all, it’s just that yakiniku is so good and the article was good too. Either way it was all too amusing and... well, a little bit creepy.
Sometimes I digress.
For all I know I’ve been calling my host father Captain Chunkmonster for the past six months. He was apparently injured playing tennis, and had splained (sprained) something in his leg and was hobbling around like the most adorable pirate in a mock turtleneck ever. To be honest, I don’t remember him screaming that well. He couldn’t think of anything else to do...so we just talked about nothing. The room looked pretty good when we were done; nothing was broken, nobody vomited, and beer doesn’t stain.
Not being able to speak English is a very endearing trait, as long as it’s not the “I live in a trailer in the Miss’ippi Delta” type of not being able to speak English. And what followed was several minutes of my host mother saying things very loudly.
“Helloooooooooo. Where are you? This is your DAUGHTER calling from JAPAN. Hellooooooo...”
It allowed us to actually communicate on a very basic level. In that I wiggled the mushroom around and she smiled. Right. SUCCESS. I danced and my machine parts creaked. I felt, for a little while, like I’d actually learned some Japanese. That moment passed, but what can you do? As I have no money, I should... fashion something from things I have handy in my room, which seem to be unwanted Linguistics assignments, mascara, and a picture of my sister. I can comfort myself with the 300 sheets of high quality paper that I bought at the paper store.
In clinging to illusions and Disney movies we ease the pain of not having made other Japanese friends and being in a country where no one wants to sit next to you on the train. A McDonald’s in Shijou has milk and broadband. I will be moving in. I will let you all know my address as soon as I can.
Now I’m off to go look at plum blossoms...again.
I hope you hate Japan less in your 21st year.
Had I put it in, I would have taken the last line out. It reads brilliantly, don`t you think?
And you said we couldn`t do any better!
Um...wrote a linguistics paper in half an hour to Kevin`s dismay, and soon, soon I will be done, yes, done precious.
Have yet to ask my parents about visiting Pairaka. Must check funds. Went on crazy deleting binge on DA. Deleting art so refreshing and saddening at the same time.
And now, in honor of NICK!!!!!`s birthday, I post for him the infamous article that I wanted to put in the newsletter but didn`t, compose entirely from LJ quotes of AKP students:
I was focusing on the ruder forms and here’s what I was able to come up with:
Today it is supposed to be 20 degrees Celsius...whatever that means in Fahrenheit. My futon is being floofed in the somewhat cloudy weather. It’s actually rather unimpressive; it looks something like a fort made out of sticks.
My kerosene just ran out.
Four days in a row I bought ramen, and four days in a row, I dumped vileness into the trash can.
This is most unfortunate for people who must deal with me on a daily basis. “Moss is really cool” and “My host mom’s favorite season is fall,” are some choice examples of topics of conversation. I’m behind in the times. It’s not my fault Japan is really weird. Even if the schoolchildren -two highschool girls with the shortest skirts I have ever seen, and really amazing loose socks- do point and laugh at the weird gaijin.
Apparently when they put you in the cremator you can see all your organs on display right before they turn into blood red ashes, much like yakiniku. I’m really not a morbid person at all, it’s just that yakiniku is so good and the article was good too. Either way it was all too amusing and... well, a little bit creepy.
Sometimes I digress.
For all I know I’ve been calling my host father Captain Chunkmonster for the past six months. He was apparently injured playing tennis, and had splained (sprained) something in his leg and was hobbling around like the most adorable pirate in a mock turtleneck ever. To be honest, I don’t remember him screaming that well. He couldn’t think of anything else to do...so we just talked about nothing. The room looked pretty good when we were done; nothing was broken, nobody vomited, and beer doesn’t stain.
Not being able to speak English is a very endearing trait, as long as it’s not the “I live in a trailer in the Miss’ippi Delta” type of not being able to speak English. And what followed was several minutes of my host mother saying things very loudly.
“Helloooooooooo. Where are you? This is your DAUGHTER calling from JAPAN. Hellooooooo...”
It allowed us to actually communicate on a very basic level. In that I wiggled the mushroom around and she smiled. Right. SUCCESS. I danced and my machine parts creaked. I felt, for a little while, like I’d actually learned some Japanese. That moment passed, but what can you do? As I have no money, I should... fashion something from things I have handy in my room, which seem to be unwanted Linguistics assignments, mascara, and a picture of my sister. I can comfort myself with the 300 sheets of high quality paper that I bought at the paper store.
In clinging to illusions and Disney movies we ease the pain of not having made other Japanese friends and being in a country where no one wants to sit next to you on the train. A McDonald’s in Shijou has milk and broadband. I will be moving in. I will let you all know my address as soon as I can.
Now I’m off to go look at plum blossoms...again.
I hope you hate Japan less in your 21st year.
Had I put it in, I would have taken the last line out. It reads brilliantly, don`t you think?
And you said we couldn`t do any better!
