tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27954880249481735562024-02-18T17:35:11.415-08:00Anthony's Amazing Asian AdventuresTnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.comBlogger176125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-90761876498376804392011-10-31T22:08:00.000-07:002011-11-03T18:24:48.990-07:00A Bright Future<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Well, a 2-month break from the blog is probably long enough; my sister Patty was asking when I was going to update it next because she doesn’t know what I’m up to otherwise. I kept my head down and worked my butt off at my new job, and then at my first performance review I did very well in all categories, as was my goal. Basically the only feedback I could get was “don’t change.” But anyways I’m sure you’re interested to hear about Thailand, especially if you know already what happened there.</div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiAqHzQodUOvE62Ia53zGd4npUcKn_jZVGHsf71a5TqwHvCmf1gbEH615KZDbKR_UuG7al04-yKjzB0Kq1BPiDTHTZKXXxMtoq1SBB2Sln3tjP7Ru5cpuOVPPrTupxEq5lK2mCS5GwaO0/s1600/IMG_0611.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiAqHzQodUOvE62Ia53zGd4npUcKn_jZVGHsf71a5TqwHvCmf1gbEH615KZDbKR_UuG7al04-yKjzB0Kq1BPiDTHTZKXXxMtoq1SBB2Sln3tjP7Ru5cpuOVPPrTupxEq5lK2mCS5GwaO0/s320/IMG_0611.JPG" width="320" /></a>To sum up the trip, it was busy but not extravagant like past excursions; most of my pictures are at restaurants eating awesome food. We went to all kinds of places and partook in a few too many Asian buffets. Because my mom mentioned duck a lot when we were in China Town in Japan, I ordered it for many meals; one small mom & pop restaurant was so delicious and cheap that I somehow put away 3 different meals in one sitting. Duck definitely has grown on me and I enjoyed it tremendously. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWlava0U-pSznjCg3PiLJ39gdoov1hZgtaF6zvRxRoZpC6a5VL8iQyXVzorUC_ZeUqKE06JgWVF81ffm-qYfQCirkqp2NGouGTWNEfq-lSjFjNZXHP2i862j926cPxC7YfHk5Uqu-vCAU/s1600/IMG_0889.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWlava0U-pSznjCg3PiLJ39gdoov1hZgtaF6zvRxRoZpC6a5VL8iQyXVzorUC_ZeUqKE06JgWVF81ffm-qYfQCirkqp2NGouGTWNEfq-lSjFjNZXHP2i862j926cPxC7YfHk5Uqu-vCAU/s320/IMG_0889.JPG" width="320" /></a>We spent the first couple nights renting one of Peter’s condos. (One of the travel agents I befriended years back). This is where Ann’s friends stay for cheap when they come to Thailand for a month every year when their restaurant in Switzerland gets snowed in.<br />
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It was there a couple mornings later when I walked up behind her while she was making coffee, and gently tried to reach for her hand from behind. Because she was a bit busy, I ended up making her knock some stuff over.<br />
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“What are you doing?” She asked me with a bit of frustration.<br />
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“Give me your hand.” Was my answer. When I had it, I gently slipped on my mother’s old engagement ring onto her finger. We didn’t say much, we didn’t have to; we just held each other tight. (Ann doesn’t like me to see her cry).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ZbgUVncOAVSI5h9pgwwyJ1i1HOBRH04XK2KQEQyd2iXcVAN2QWVhtz6sg4_OwBkn2e_glNPuR9FnyaQzwmQOf4JbOAlRxNU8VlnnqCJFJaQfNwOHHju8LvzY1xuFvN6JIQ5Bf6GcTX4/s1600/IMG_0795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ZbgUVncOAVSI5h9pgwwyJ1i1HOBRH04XK2KQEQyd2iXcVAN2QWVhtz6sg4_OwBkn2e_glNPuR9FnyaQzwmQOf4JbOAlRxNU8VlnnqCJFJaQfNwOHHju8LvzY1xuFvN6JIQ5Bf6GcTX4/s320/IMG_0795.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghfG1c83LbjGpSI3s6zYwFBG5XcsezsVsnBwt82aM3BbApcSAIliMW1lMNxr8HvE3Kc0GEee8fKvH7ej05CqtIaGymX5SNYr1jmLgEdXdEyZ1YvBendZyREp2E8F9GjUdx25dK5Y5Utxo/s1600/IMG_0686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br />
</a>Later in the day we went to a jewelry shop where we had the ring re-sized. These first couple days were busy as I tried teaching her how to use her new computer and installed tons of updates. She went to English class the one day while I perused the nearby book store; buying her various comics from Anime cartoons that I love like One Piece, and a book I read years ago: Eragon. Once her class was over we were free for the weekend to visit her hometown of Surin.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghfG1c83LbjGpSI3s6zYwFBG5XcsezsVsnBwt82aM3BbApcSAIliMW1lMNxr8HvE3Kc0GEee8fKvH7ej05CqtIaGymX5SNYr1jmLgEdXdEyZ1YvBendZyREp2E8F9GjUdx25dK5Y5Utxo/s1600/IMG_0686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghfG1c83LbjGpSI3s6zYwFBG5XcsezsVsnBwt82aM3BbApcSAIliMW1lMNxr8HvE3Kc0GEee8fKvH7ej05CqtIaGymX5SNYr1jmLgEdXdEyZ1YvBendZyREp2E8F9GjUdx25dK5Y5Utxo/s320/IMG_0686.JPG" width="320" /></a>It was almost a whole day trip. Saying her hometown is Surin is something of a misnomer as well; it’s the nearest big city where you can rent a hotel room or buy groceries from a supermarket. We stopped by there so we could get gifts for her family. <br />
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I was fully thinking gifts like chocolates and cookies, but right away I felt a bit foolish; Ann was picking up items like instant milk mix so her mom could get calcium, laundry detergent and a Styrofoam icebox to keep some fish we bought cold for them as they didn’t have a fridge. I had a hard time thinking of a sentence to explain how I felt then, but I guess you could say, “humbled.” <br />
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We woke up in the morning by something of a rude call from Ann’s mom. Apparently she wakes up at 4 in the morning every day and expects everyone else to do the same, so she called us at 7 in the morning asking why we were 3 hours late. Not the best first impression on the new in-laws, but I can roll with the punches.<br />
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We took the train to her ‘real’ hometown of Samrong Thap. From the train station we hired motorcycle taxis, as I don’t think they had taxi cars. We pulled up to her family’s house and I was able to meet everyone for the first time.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkcKjrY4lnNcoR79T80jpGula_uGCmWVyIt5dL1PuwUdxzxM9vzILxyeAcj2h1dPSXE4Kf1imvqgXJzZBkHkF9iCq-qn8PAt6DyxV8kUCbiboWclWvZM7h1m6Dyym99hWbl-6tdqMZR6E/s1600/IMG_0857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkcKjrY4lnNcoR79T80jpGula_uGCmWVyIt5dL1PuwUdxzxM9vzILxyeAcj2h1dPSXE4Kf1imvqgXJzZBkHkF9iCq-qn8PAt6DyxV8kUCbiboWclWvZM7h1m6Dyym99hWbl-6tdqMZR6E/s320/IMG_0857.JPG" width="320" /></a>The house was a bit of a shanty; the first floor didn’t have walls, it was more pillars supporting the second floor where they slept, and in the middle was a small cattle pen holding 2 cows. I assume this is to help prevent thefts, as if you lose your livestock it’s a very serious hit to your livelihood. Like how I felt in the Dominican Republic, I held back from taking too many pictures of poverty, as I don’t like the impression that makes; these are people, not a side show for photos. A bunch of neighborhood kids had gathered to watch cartoons on the neighborhood 8” tv suspended from the ceiling, strung up to wires in a hazardous-looking self-repair effort. <br />
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Ann was the only translator for the entire group, so I didn’t have much to do but sit there and try not to gawk at things like chickens and their babies running free range in the dirt house. I heard the word “King Kong” once when they were talking about me; I had to duck to not hit my head on the 2nd floor support pieces. Ann’s mother swept dirt off the dirt floor so she could roll out some bamboo mats, as what’s used in formal occasions. We had come to announce our intention to marry, but it seems like they believed we had come there to marry instead.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTbRPpd4qVMUnxe86Ce47YGcilaWD5intuuDbO2-MOIQ_r6uiS0qmnd7uYXK_jFFvzDacAflXH67w0DZ4ZYDFLWq4rufsPevQsMkKZlkGHKEr9a77D8mPslW9vpBg8TarQLJ_ZSMgV62U/s1600/IMG_0709.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTbRPpd4qVMUnxe86Ce47YGcilaWD5intuuDbO2-MOIQ_r6uiS0qmnd7uYXK_jFFvzDacAflXH67w0DZ4ZYDFLWq4rufsPevQsMkKZlkGHKEr9a77D8mPslW9vpBg8TarQLJ_ZSMgV62U/s320/IMG_0709.JPG" width="240" /></a>Ann tried to explain how we wanted to get married next year, but she kept saying to me how they didn’t understand her. There may have been a language barrier for her too, as she was only able to come home once or twice a year in the past because her former jobs kept her too busy and/or too poor to visit more. They were also stuck in an old mindset so maybe they didn’t “understand” with quotation marks; like how some people believe how you can’t “live in sin.” They were disappointed my family didn’t come along with me to visit them too, and they were disappointed I didn’t have a ring there (it was still in the shop being resized).<br />
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Before long Ann’s cousin was instigating how much of a dowry I would pay. Again they didn’t “understand” we weren’t getting married yet. Although I don’t know Thai I could feel the stress through proxy with Ann and before I knew it we were on a motorcycle driving very slowly back to town so Ann could clean out her bank account for the dowry because I didn’t have much money on me at the time because I didn’t think I’d have to pay the dowry right away. It came down to: “You can pay a little now and more later, or just pay 20,000 baht (around $600) and be done with it.” <br />
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We chose just to be done with it.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKaWuqybZmSy9l0i3m3vfS7b9WcXHVB34YIaVFdDfKSS2HEuUBTB-EFvuYvhNM0QCcS0lPrEuYeRaBOezT9eAl6Kp0jfu3yawL6sRaL_bnC1jmTPxCxoHDZn_W3usoQt20YJZZGwjKqA0/s1600/IMG_0716.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKaWuqybZmSy9l0i3m3vfS7b9WcXHVB34YIaVFdDfKSS2HEuUBTB-EFvuYvhNM0QCcS0lPrEuYeRaBOezT9eAl6Kp0jfu3yawL6sRaL_bnC1jmTPxCxoHDZn_W3usoQt20YJZZGwjKqA0/s320/IMG_0716.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>So there we were, in this little town of Samrong Thrap, taking our sweet time to make our way back to the gauntlet that waited. I found it ironic in a way how I finally got to meet her family and now after an hour or so we were avoiding them. After Ann collected herself, we made our way back to our surprise Buddhist wedding.<br />
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The money was placed on a ceremonial dish along with a gold ring Ann bought with some birthday money I sent her. Everyone then took turns tying golden strings around our wrists while giving us their individual blessings. Her parents went last. After this the wedding was done. We took some photos, and interest in me was finally starting to drop a bit; now the men of the neighborhood were gathered around that same TV now showing Thai fighting.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKSdy8tKg866BNsJUdOMg-qeN6ljtnHYajUHSMkdVMTOCtG0ARa4H3WEFtHxrpwZkMq_IPdEbHU5hMiGcLrjlNosgillTCg9PU5iOmvuDyfB3xbmRmblmI6qKsmGDl7_6SImPZWNlNUVQ/s1600/IMG_0724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKSdy8tKg866BNsJUdOMg-qeN6ljtnHYajUHSMkdVMTOCtG0ARa4H3WEFtHxrpwZkMq_IPdEbHU5hMiGcLrjlNosgillTCg9PU5iOmvuDyfB3xbmRmblmI6qKsmGDl7_6SImPZWNlNUVQ/s320/IMG_0724.JPG" width="320" /></a>I had the chance to meet Ann’s son, Pon. He is a very quiet and shy boy, but knowing how he likes video games I gave him my old Nintendo DS as a gift as I hardly play it anymore. What wasn’t worth much to me, you could tell was worth the world to him, so I’m glad I could make some impression. After about an hour, Ann and I left back to our hotel in Surin, as she wanted to leave “before everyone got drunk” in celebration.<br />
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That night we both read our books a little while before going to sleep early as we tried to recover from the crazy day we just had. I joked with her about how we became an old married couple on our first day of marriage. I asked Ann if she wanted to see her family again tomorrow and she said “No.” I guess things were even harder on her this time than normal, as having me around made neighborhood people she hadn’t spoken to in over 10 years come up to her and either ask for money, or try to sell her something stupid at a ridiculous price. When she visits her family she just wants to relax.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHI905Xu1KaKmcvy7cYIobx_DUx5SJIreKSj61SIj5BJR9hqH5fiEPITGwDKBaCuTyclZ0ciiLFnXtZnggJeUDp_DF_kOhkqbcV0uwTneEYpeYRzGLjNW7JMWY_aEXswrc_hNbwzMQFPI/s1600/IMG_0732.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHI905Xu1KaKmcvy7cYIobx_DUx5SJIreKSj61SIj5BJR9hqH5fiEPITGwDKBaCuTyclZ0ciiLFnXtZnggJeUDp_DF_kOhkqbcV0uwTneEYpeYRzGLjNW7JMWY_aEXswrc_hNbwzMQFPI/s320/IMG_0732.JPG" width="320" /></a>We made our way back to Bangkok where we spent an entire week trying to get papers ready for the wedding. The Canadian embassy has more security than staff working there during the 3 hours a day they’re open from Mon-Thurs so that was a problem. It was “go here, get this, go there, get translated…” etc for a week. In the midst of this, one of those steps made our wedding official, so as of July 28, 2011, Ann became Punyaporn Schoenroth.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaGvNHvNHyOEP7b-vF6aFDLhnnwC93RrcwK-OqXGkMCEkz-PIclVXSCo4gFA0839FzOvI9hQBYFEd_3VMml6O6TTXzo2Kg12ubkvuuYT2Cgsf4pbSTlf-S6nwL8d9xpd81O52JRNQfGDQ/s1600/IMG_0872.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaGvNHvNHyOEP7b-vF6aFDLhnnwC93RrcwK-OqXGkMCEkz-PIclVXSCo4gFA0839FzOvI9hQBYFEd_3VMml6O6TTXzo2Kg12ubkvuuYT2Cgsf4pbSTlf-S6nwL8d9xpd81O52JRNQfGDQ/s320/IMG_0872.JPG" width="240" /></a>That night over supper it just kinda came out: “So you’re my wife now?” I asked her, it was such a whirlwind. We still had a couple days of paper work and when it was finished as far as we could take it and I only had a couple days left of my holiday, so we had a brief honeymoon of sorts back at that beautiful hotel we stayed at years prior right on the beach of Pattaya.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj26ec-NJ3OLQeUe9BvrhnvOVBqowUJDLe2s3B02-na3fDyF3kBs5rEMxEW08h0i4bO2TZh1zDoRnMOydpPR8coniG2Nzu3a3T3QC8JdFMX4oL3mO5YjAL1ewC2U4wa-JcMzAzAd2x5O4E/s1600/IMG_0902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><br />
</a>Before I left Thailand, Ann wanted to make a special stop with me. While I was gone she went to various temples and shrines all around Thailand, praying for my safe return; the past year wasn’t just hell on me after all. After praying at one shrine in particular, as recommended by her friend, I gave her the news a couple days later of how I found a job and I was finally coming to visit her after more than a year; our prayers were finally answered.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj26ec-NJ3OLQeUe9BvrhnvOVBqowUJDLe2s3B02-na3fDyF3kBs5rEMxEW08h0i4bO2TZh1zDoRnMOydpPR8coniG2Nzu3a3T3QC8JdFMX4oL3mO5YjAL1ewC2U4wa-JcMzAzAd2x5O4E/s1600/IMG_0902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj26ec-NJ3OLQeUe9BvrhnvOVBqowUJDLe2s3B02-na3fDyF3kBs5rEMxEW08h0i4bO2TZh1zDoRnMOydpPR8coniG2Nzu3a3T3QC8JdFMX4oL3mO5YjAL1ewC2U4wa-JcMzAzAd2x5O4E/s320/IMG_0902.JPG" width="320" /></a>Together we visited this small shrine on the side of the road, where we both gave thanks and made well wishes for our long and happy life together.<br />
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"When you realize how perfect everything is, you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky." -Buddha <br />
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Anthony and Punyaporn SchoenrothTnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-78498101111627112242011-08-23T17:47:00.000-07:002011-08-23T17:50:31.600-07:00Around the World in 27 HoursIf you weren’t convinced not to fly United after my last entry, the next day’s plane was delayed 4 hours, long enough to miss any transportation out of Tokyo for the day. Now it was the long weekend, and to my surprise, all bus tickets everywhere were sold out until 9 that night. My only option was to stand on a train for 3 hours, packed like a sardine with all of my luggage. Instead of getting to Matsumoto Thursday night, I arrived there Saturday afternoon. The trip got good after that though; I surprised Neal by dropping in at his place, fresh out of the shower.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi56lo2rWrPfraesX1faF8N8W9L_VZ6sfsPhhJXNz_5Z2vEqu347pj5Rcj8K2Ruy9Egok-AtlWPsYKPA_L6spPaMWvJbG9I6C3jmCPSlCl6AdGSOZEwBz1g4j7PImTtyP1Q4CarMWyoNQ8/s1600/IMG_0485.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi56lo2rWrPfraesX1faF8N8W9L_VZ6sfsPhhJXNz_5Z2vEqu347pj5Rcj8K2Ruy9Egok-AtlWPsYKPA_L6spPaMWvJbG9I6C3jmCPSlCl6AdGSOZEwBz1g4j7PImTtyP1Q4CarMWyoNQ8/s320/IMG_0485.JPG" width="320" /></a>It was really strange being back in Japan. I had said my goodbyes and found the closure I needed, so being back initially felt unnecessary. Despite efforts and many conversations with myself, I had forgotten so much of my Japanese. Not only that, but it was too damn Hot! A hidden truth at the time, I was afraid to see Ann again after so long and suffering such hardships. I thought a year is a long time, and people change a lot in that time. I didn’t know what to expect, and Japan would be a good diversion along the way to see my friends off before they scatter around the planet again.<br />
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I’d say the majority of people I caught up with had something new entering their lives much like myself, but everyone was affected, mostly in subtle ways, to the devastation of the March earthquakes. What really stuck out to me was when Brian mentioned how he never eats at home anymore. “Life is too short: for the time you spend shopping, cooking, eating and cleaning, you could be out meeting people.” Profound and frightening, I recall it often.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzcetkWdEx23BJCwgaG2N4b5WyDoY_L6bc8QzlkPTSs6M6iBXyEW1a4cWIYIX5Ubr4bTt7SFvC6Q3ZXMWdSRKDnKq8amlZ7MJxJ7YdOZkpm0CylJtotZxrcO7zrY84u5JEmcLh3B-sweg/s1600/IMG_0517.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzcetkWdEx23BJCwgaG2N4b5WyDoY_L6bc8QzlkPTSs6M6iBXyEW1a4cWIYIX5Ubr4bTt7SFvC6Q3ZXMWdSRKDnKq8amlZ7MJxJ7YdOZkpm0CylJtotZxrcO7zrY84u5JEmcLh3B-sweg/s320/IMG_0517.JPG" width="320" /></a>In the end though, I was fairly happy to go back to my old stomping grounds. I had a checklist of all the foods I would savor again and very little else on the “to do” list. Luckily I have good friends to make suggestions: the first one being Richard’s: let’s visit the Komagane water hole. I had been there 2 times before: for my welcome and farewell parties respectively, but it was still enjoyable to escape the muggy hot air.<br />
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It was the plan that I would join in my old Oral Communication class, the best class I’d been able to teach, and I even bought presents for everyone. Alas, since my airline turned my 4-day trip into a 2-day trip, I could only stop by after hours. I was lucky to see one of my old teachers and leave a small gift for the other teachers through him.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiouZeZ62-oRtSjh3o03sp8VspkhXicx5nxzhhxzpKYfIXsQhNLtBt-R2g5mR9TsprWQoyjUxT9IKN0EzESvk1wfyJOGmaxtUw16iCYHGX9SEh8AOGF-ctjg6QmQ36TiD7aJBzs7S1i9bk/s1600/IMG_0521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiouZeZ62-oRtSjh3o03sp8VspkhXicx5nxzhhxzpKYfIXsQhNLtBt-R2g5mR9TsprWQoyjUxT9IKN0EzESvk1wfyJOGmaxtUw16iCYHGX9SEh8AOGF-ctjg6QmQ36TiD7aJBzs7S1i9bk/s320/IMG_0521.JPG" width="320" /></a>One thing that shouldn’t have surprised me but did was just how beautiful and perfect everything in Japan seemed to be. The grass couldn’t be greener, the air couldn’t be cleaner, and the streets and roads couldn’t be more pristine. <br />
<br />
That Saturday night was Dougal’s farewell party and a good chance to see many people off myself. I was able to meet his Thai fiancé and hear about their immigration woes as well. She was lucky though, and later was able to visit Canada.<br />
<br />
I was fortunate Neal gave me my own room, as it was so hot I slept with nothing on but underwear while the fan kept me from cooking. He even cooked a delicious breakfast for me both mornings. <br />
<br />
Sunday was more a day of ‘shopping’ for stuff, though not much was bought. We mostly hung out and visited in the air-conditioned malls. In this time I was able to meet up with more friends, and we all went for sushi that night. Our group was so large that we sat at four different tables, where we all visited for hours while gorging on the treats.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicFS8ry6qcjdEY8tEs-AKM-PyRYIaU5urXjH1dLHKBHVW-V-Mk7DOHPNX8qdJsZQwvnPSClkqd796XbdrKN4Vtp1LZbdNk6FwJwtnGdoZ0IVqoHaw2p6Cweu-ycoa2X7km7MSro6yFrVE/s1600/IMG_0530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicFS8ry6qcjdEY8tEs-AKM-PyRYIaU5urXjH1dLHKBHVW-V-Mk7DOHPNX8qdJsZQwvnPSClkqd796XbdrKN4Vtp1LZbdNk6FwJwtnGdoZ0IVqoHaw2p6Cweu-ycoa2X7km7MSro6yFrVE/s320/IMG_0530.JPG" width="320" /></a>That night I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep, but it was my ‘last night.’ Fighting fatigue, we played “The Game of Things” that I had been ranting and raving about the last 2 days. It was still entertaining, but I had a headache from being overtired so it didn’t get crazy or anything. That said, it wasn’t a very late night, but a nice small hang out before my farewell.<br />
<br />
Just like almost exactly a year prior (I was still on their records), a taxi picked my up from Neal’s house to take me to the airport. It was a good trip, but one I doubt I’ll repeat. Maybe I’ve become better at understanding how fleeting everything is and not to get too attached to any one thing; the food tasted exactly as I remembered it, my friends are all going their separate ways, and life is fragile. In an instant not only was a nation devastated, but also everyone in the country was subtly impacted.<br />
<br />
I tried pushing these troubling thoughts out of my head during the next 12 hours or so to Thailand. Alas here is the moment I was waiting for, for over one long, arduous year. Why was I so nervous?<br />
<br />
I got through customs into the meeting area and looked around for her. She was hopping up and down behind a group of taller people crowding the gate, and we both started walking to the opening where we could meet, faster and faster. Finally, there she was, held tightly in my arms again. I held her, she held me, and all the pain and frustration, and all the tears and devastation from the last year... just seemed to wash away.<br />
<br />
I enjoyed that euphoria for days, medicine for my soul; every time I held Ann. <br />
<br />
"Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase." -Martin Luther King, Jr. <br />
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</div> tnoy<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeU8K30bmfOR4jc089FEzl0Xx3mDo4GMwwXniujU6a05LWKTTwkyGDP1tLuu4soTOWFp0BZOPv-0HkqWk145dYvD0posNmdRhmX3UEv1jkMesdI-huNcNbDfrTLnqJGV7_b8ePxbaOcXs/s1600/IMG_0667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeU8K30bmfOR4jc089FEzl0Xx3mDo4GMwwXniujU6a05LWKTTwkyGDP1tLuu4soTOWFp0BZOPv-0HkqWk145dYvD0posNmdRhmX3UEv1jkMesdI-huNcNbDfrTLnqJGV7_b8ePxbaOcXs/s320/IMG_0667.JPG" width="320" /></a>Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-62288738419840082552011-07-14T10:45:00.000-07:002011-07-14T10:45:28.953-07:00Brave New World<div class="MsoNormal">As it may have become apparent, the future of this blog is in uncertain waters. My life definitely hasn’t been amazing, in Asia, or an adventure for quite some time, and I told myself I wouldn’t post again unless things changed.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg596PMiJZE3ClD5HX2OSt-CmTk5hN6eHW6ah0JoUzGGDlEToOXjEYNDlNWTxGSjy9lmYMHvXUanzBALn0oEiJYgQBGljMsFKFoimLJqgHDqErgRO8CoUSSot2sWKxUmCvUNlX04FTcBn0/s1600/IMG_0318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg596PMiJZE3ClD5HX2OSt-CmTk5hN6eHW6ah0JoUzGGDlEToOXjEYNDlNWTxGSjy9lmYMHvXUanzBALn0oEiJYgQBGljMsFKFoimLJqgHDqErgRO8CoUSSot2sWKxUmCvUNlX04FTcBn0/s320/IMG_0318.JPG" width="320" /></a>I have gotten ‘out’, 2 or 3 times in the last 4 months, so I guess I can write about that. My buddy Max had a birthday party so he invited friends and family to the park for celebrations. I couldn’t find the place, so I waited at the local science center to meet up with Chris who could lead the way. The center had some sex exhibit at the time and was selling adorable STD plush toys; I had found the perfect birthday present.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">For my friend max, I gave him herpes. It was a cute, ‘sun’ looking toy that quickly got passed around the party. Some people got it on their lips, while most just got it on their hands. You only get herpes once, and Max got it from me in front of everyone. He later had a photo together with his new life-partner, and his girlfriend.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihKdB2IyZ8qgT25j-eaKaBPd13Eqp2BwylJVzeXx935wteZE5TTPl1wRXadZN8XhmhesORRmhSUhOTuVqNZTqvyRuyqsWXkR5Mg7VgQRH2dnqZR0hrfUpgbP3drH4iP9hiaJhOutCCBT8/s1600/IMG_0315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihKdB2IyZ8qgT25j-eaKaBPd13Eqp2BwylJVzeXx935wteZE5TTPl1wRXadZN8XhmhesORRmhSUhOTuVqNZTqvyRuyqsWXkR5Mg7VgQRH2dnqZR0hrfUpgbP3drH4iP9hiaJhOutCCBT8/s320/IMG_0315.JPG" width="320" /></a>I had fun with this crowd a month later. I only caught the tail end of the house warming party because I could only show up after work, but I brought my “Game of Things.” A game so awesome and easy, it can be explained to drunk people. If you don’t remember it from my Christmas post, basically all it is, is a bunch of cards with statements like “Things that are dirty” or “Things you would do if you were invisible.” Everyone writes down something crazy, and then we take turns guessing who wrote what.<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We laughed for hours. I took turns picking on various people in the room all in good fun. I’d love to give you examples, but I won’t publish the filth that came up. I’m giggling now as I think about it, and remember I couldn’t sleep for hours thinking of the fun we had.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ7WqVC33c24AlOZS-2j7iOmWUIqF5KZJeevR56I4BA2BMQsuKi-T3_P-4WiUWPW_XxmFZyIbfo29RCxi3MOgRVEPbbaY2vN_ySziCQdbojPReVvZihLg7cr3YLalRU8HYJlIlITJzuhE/s1600/IMG_0357.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ7WqVC33c24AlOZS-2j7iOmWUIqF5KZJeevR56I4BA2BMQsuKi-T3_P-4WiUWPW_XxmFZyIbfo29RCxi3MOgRVEPbbaY2vN_ySziCQdbojPReVvZihLg7cr3YLalRU8HYJlIlITJzuhE/s320/IMG_0357.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I got out for a family event when my aunt and uncle had an anniversary, but again I missed most of it because I worked. I would have liked to visit more, but I was tired enough to hang out in the background.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Those would be the highlights of my time away from the restaurant. Weeks came and went with little fanfare. I won’t lie; I went for weeks without applying for jobs as well because it was so discouraging. I had numerous people trying to help me out and sending me job links to apply for. My buddy Lester sent me a bunch he found on saskjobs.ca, and I didn’t apply for several days later when I had time off from work and I wasn’t so exhausted and/or apathetic to the time sink job hunting is.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi88VanEBT7X_r9TQi04AlnbJyOxmfs4kGa0XjQRezzxmanZEl2rqjxaSWjkFXh3E1PTvG0oKP7G4aPF9eAm-z4VSPJR7D_1i5vYVsi7Cvb1a92ey3zzMZUQWf2KJxKLXL9yoGO0Ze8pNw/s1600/IMG_0366.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi88VanEBT7X_r9TQi04AlnbJyOxmfs4kGa0XjQRezzxmanZEl2rqjxaSWjkFXh3E1PTvG0oKP7G4aPF9eAm-z4VSPJR7D_1i5vYVsi7Cvb1a92ey3zzMZUQWf2KJxKLXL9yoGO0Ze8pNw/s320/IMG_0366.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I had Monday off and finally got around to sending out applications. This time, everything was game. I was hoping to find a job close to Regina as my mom has a place for me to stay (with many exceptions of course) but now I was applying for anything, anywhere that said “engineer.” (as opposed to just “anything”) An hour later as I was in the middle of making another cover letter, I got an unexpected phone call from Rem Enterprises in Swift Current.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As I talked with the HR lady, I quickly Googled the company to try and refresh my memory on what I applied for and tried not to be too surprised at this totally unexpected development. I applied for a “process engineer” position, but she thought I would be better suited as a Mechanical Engineer. Thinking about my fascination with robotics, I couldn’t agree more.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi75Xg2jGkDydDvc-cFnLaviuYd__cYH8vSmWbCBD3ojnZ-9OhyphenhyphenD_8YxJo3qP_I6h4YsM0ANKTQCi4iemkkK5Ps3HwywS2LlvQ-ghbrMibVe-mxAihPGFP5zlCNHe3VmJOOgZgxiy8fTP0/s1600/IMG_0360.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi75Xg2jGkDydDvc-cFnLaviuYd__cYH8vSmWbCBD3ojnZ-9OhyphenhyphenD_8YxJo3qP_I6h4YsM0ANKTQCi4iemkkK5Ps3HwywS2LlvQ-ghbrMibVe-mxAihPGFP5zlCNHe3VmJOOgZgxiy8fTP0/s320/IMG_0360.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>After a screening call that lasted almost an hour, she had set up a Skype interview for me the following morning with several other managers. It went very well, and I was giving an IQ/aptitude/personality test to complete. They set up an in-house interview for me at Swift Current 2 days later when I had my next day off from the Restaurant. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I went to the interview, where I demoed my robot from University, build 5 years earlier. I was very successful with a drafting test, something I hadn’t done for almost 10 years, and there was another personality test. I think the big thing behind that was I’m afraid of talking myself out of a job. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWGMbyRE52Uepzc0wy81GbecZz5xa7zEqc3YuxyfnAxSKtCeccf19tmgjECB_qQPtQoBjqsvQmlKDSBiwPuGzM1UI3WW1GIx5Bog0hllyzuf3tFGU_ulXkIKI1_ftC_OQOHU9a2UEyKFo/s1600/IMG_0394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWGMbyRE52Uepzc0wy81GbecZz5xa7zEqc3YuxyfnAxSKtCeccf19tmgjECB_qQPtQoBjqsvQmlKDSBiwPuGzM1UI3WW1GIx5Bog0hllyzuf3tFGU_ulXkIKI1_ftC_OQOHU9a2UEyKFo/s320/IMG_0394.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>It’s no secret that I’m fascinated with space and future technology, but I expect a lot from myself. I don’t want my life’s work to be something petty and non-consequential; I want to be a part of something bigger than myself. Agriculture is important in that respect, and the chance to work and get my hands dirty with mechanical innovation was definitely up my alley. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I heard back from the HR lady on Friday, but the managers who made the final decision were out for the week. When I got in touch with her again the following week, she gave me a verbal job offering over the phone as an Engineering Technologist. The conversation was very brief and positive, and after I hung up I continued to make my sandwich on my lunch break before it all hit me at once. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkSI6414hjQfvYiQTILEMSHBaDT9SDP8uKiDyEpIGmKRFy1A_VsDc0BVlFvieQrbdR7sFaK-Td3514Pfo12LeBNG__HsVjIalan-6tUkTZ-ApIMM524AJBrBEvUL9IWrqkLk0EfcoLSbc/s1600/IMG_0418.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkSI6414hjQfvYiQTILEMSHBaDT9SDP8uKiDyEpIGmKRFy1A_VsDc0BVlFvieQrbdR7sFaK-Td3514Pfo12LeBNG__HsVjIalan-6tUkTZ-ApIMM524AJBrBEvUL9IWrqkLk0EfcoLSbc/s320/IMG_0418.JPG" width="240" /></a>I involuntarily jumped up and down while giggling and my eyes teared up. My yearlong ordeal was over. The living nightmare was about to end. This perpetual limbo in a non-existential purgatory finally had a light at the end of the tunnel. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It was so strange, but so refreshing to have a successful company aggressively recruiting me for such a desirable position. The screening process was daunting, but I think I did very well all things considered. Now that my life was finally out of the rut and back on the road, I could draw myself a road map again.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I gave my 2-week notice at the restaurant. I bought plane tickets to Thailand to see Ann, as it has been over a year. I’ll stop in Japan for 4 days before, so I bought presents and made plans to see my old students. I was in Swift Current yesterday and found a nice place to rent for when I start work on August 8<sup>th</sup>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD2oRefnD87LFPST6kYr6mzkcWO_jpRcgeaRME-p8isxfJDrRDA5_Wi930AWNId3PXdrA0QXJ3NnSlxUglWGKxBfwIkjoXYT5JX6_0NUXmA2GxgTL9Vx7dX1Y2pRhByWIEBGc0LV23vsY/s1600/IMG_0388.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD2oRefnD87LFPST6kYr6mzkcWO_jpRcgeaRME-p8isxfJDrRDA5_Wi930AWNId3PXdrA0QXJ3NnSlxUglWGKxBfwIkjoXYT5JX6_0NUXmA2GxgTL9Vx7dX1Y2pRhByWIEBGc0LV23vsY/s320/IMG_0388.JPG" width="320" /></a>It’s so exciting to make plans for my life again. I couldn’t have done it without the help of my friends and family. Jerry, Gary, Dougal, Steve, Chris, Lester and more, all gave me different advice of which I took and pieced together to make myself more marketable. I had rebuilt my resume completely 4 times, each one better than the last.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I’m now sitting at the Chicago airport getting ready to go to Japan. The plane has been delayed 2 hours, and I wish it were delayed yesterday. I knew to never buy a plane ticket that transfers in the U.S. but now I will swear to never do it again. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I was in line for hours to check through customs, watching the many lanes open for American citizens breeze through, then close later when they finished while the ‘visitor’ section had only a couple processing lines and the lineup of people was down the hallway. No other country I have been to is this inconvenient; why do I need to get my passport stamped if I’m not visiting? I’m transferring through. By the time I got my luggage (that’s right, you have to get your luggage even though you’re not stopping here) my connecting flight had already left. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSczrM1EZvkcIM2ovSm1MrYaA25f_qYn6FX25Bt1Yv7Fetnh-z4iaCynshK5vOaC07y0NShnnTXDbO81C56GXLbWfRjocAwjSIRaWFwZNPeUX_BcJbknlpfqYnAAi2B6KbnKwba9GQZps/s1600/IMG_0426.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSczrM1EZvkcIM2ovSm1MrYaA25f_qYn6FX25Bt1Yv7Fetnh-z4iaCynshK5vOaC07y0NShnnTXDbO81C56GXLbWfRjocAwjSIRaWFwZNPeUX_BcJbknlpfqYnAAi2B6KbnKwba9GQZps/s320/IMG_0426.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Because my airline “isn’t responsible for the government” as I was told, they could only give me a discount for a nearby hotel; I still had to pay over $100. Thank you for making me miss my flight, then charging me more for a hotel than I will spend on the entire 3 weeks. It’s just a good thing I have a credit card.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I wanted to make the most of it and see Chicago, but my feet were aching from standing in line for 3 hours (remember, I still haven’t even gone to the right terminal and gone through the screening there yet either). I guess I’m still quite angry, mostly because I can’t see my old students now, and possibly many friends. I slept the day away in the hotel surprisingly; the last couple days have been crazier than I thought.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I had some “Chicago Style” pizza, which is pretty good I guess. I only was able to eat ½ of it. Maybe I’ll be back someday, but I will try to never transfer in the states again.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_QRu5qOz4b83kxSwo5RX0w2lpWy4rz2Ls6JdYCLFvAoMw6QNVO1F5HPeYAiCS2gOPmDqL3CD2q_-tRXB5T7q979k189PEncCKQbNqzuxv1gRAn76M2FUZiaUV0csSlwIMZWJX3JNIO1s/s1600/IMG_0451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_QRu5qOz4b83kxSwo5RX0w2lpWy4rz2Ls6JdYCLFvAoMw6QNVO1F5HPeYAiCS2gOPmDqL3CD2q_-tRXB5T7q979k189PEncCKQbNqzuxv1gRAn76M2FUZiaUV0csSlwIMZWJX3JNIO1s/s320/IMG_0451.JPG" width="320" /></a>Being back on the road again really made me evaluate this last year and how hard it’s been. I often forget it’s even 2011, because not many major things happened in my life since 2010 (of course there is a few). At times I felt like I literally lost a year of my life, but as my new friend Dylan said to me: “well you met me!” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Heh, he’s a great guy. I have made some friends, and I have made some interesting experience. I now have a greater respect for restaurant employees, even though I always tried to be polite to them anyways. It’s a hard life and if I hadn’t been with my mom, I wouldn’t have been able to pay rent.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimGmQveHymNwq4bD0tLU_91YbGHAjlQqaMOLO1YZG9YJWeOvlW92b3nuh52Vs4PymrCdXt2eUfqJg0mcsQrz9-U1l0j9wBEee4km8mppcoKPrtGIv02YyPp1ZlgoIUA3uya7BtiZW86LE/s1600/IMG_0377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimGmQveHymNwq4bD0tLU_91YbGHAjlQqaMOLO1YZG9YJWeOvlW92b3nuh52Vs4PymrCdXt2eUfqJg0mcsQrz9-U1l0j9wBEee4km8mppcoKPrtGIv02YyPp1ZlgoIUA3uya7BtiZW86LE/s320/IMG_0377.JPG" width="320" /></a>Last week I was out with Lester where we watched a couple movies and got some food. I had to stop and thank him for getting me out of the house/work routine, and helping me feel like a person again.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But that’s enough from me for now. I’ll keep waiting for my plane, and my next update will be about something fun: seeing Japan again.</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">"Men are not prisoners of fate, but only prisoners of their own minds." -Franklin Roosevelt<br />
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</div>tnoy</div>Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-37512245766718213072011-04-26T16:12:00.001-07:002011-04-26T16:15:56.133-07:00Big Announcement and EasterI needed a break from all these job applications, so why not write up a blog post eh? It’s been a while, so you can probably guess how things went with the MP inquiry. He’s still a good guy, but too bad his hands are tied. The embassy faxed them back basically saying how they didn’t believe Ann was going to be a student, and how they figure her real motivation for studying in Canada was to come and see me. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghwVPJfbW-525pW9IKrx2IgaXH3BBhZThRA5PerTWFApv3eeuVj6T4fwPM0ECK7Xsg1-HuRQT6CwTwVnCn0_zlxrs6PlGH3NJ3GPCO_8nFa-eS2gv41fqm4hGJrus-FCZUInb_4MfGg2k/s1600/IMG_0229.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghwVPJfbW-525pW9IKrx2IgaXH3BBhZThRA5PerTWFApv3eeuVj6T4fwPM0ECK7Xsg1-HuRQT6CwTwVnCn0_zlxrs6PlGH3NJ3GPCO_8nFa-eS2gv41fqm4hGJrus-FCZUInb_4MfGg2k/s320/IMG_0229.JPG" width="240" /></a>I fail to see the problem with that, but what can I say. Our last chance, literally, is either marriage or a permanent resident application.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It was ridiculous how many people were telling me: “just marry her already.” It felt like suddenly I was in Thailand or Japan again where everyone said similar things. If everyone thinks it is no big deal, then why do I? Perhaps I blame the bad taste in my mouth from my own parents drawn out, and occasionally very bitter, divorce proceedings… 9 years in the making and no end in sight. Maybe there is progress being made, I don’t know. I just try to stay uninvolved, as it doesn’t concern me.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">One thing I love about Ann is how she thinks. She told me, that when her friends announce engagements to her, she always asks them: “oh… are you sure?” She is strong and independent, innocent and always curious; she inspires me. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3l7eY1IaZcpYgXdMbSNzxjXV9sQWUyOnvxSWIff6rbF42N74A36-pMg5NOfEkpe0T4Yy4mm6N7UEHrfB6ActkzUIKV1iU1lS5_PZ00jReA-T10TaRdXZmSXfB9oxZOygBDPwDr6au28/s1600/IMG_0277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3l7eY1IaZcpYgXdMbSNzxjXV9sQWUyOnvxSWIff6rbF42N74A36-pMg5NOfEkpe0T4Yy4mm6N7UEHrfB6ActkzUIKV1iU1lS5_PZ00jReA-T10TaRdXZmSXfB9oxZOygBDPwDr6au28/s320/IMG_0277.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I more than expected her to think marriage would be a far off plan like I did. I prodded her thoughts on the subject, and was very surprised to here her tell me how marriage would be a great idea. Paraphrased, it went a bit like this:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“But don’t you tease your friends when they say they are getting married?”</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Sure, but I’ve known you for 2 years.” She had a very good point.</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Well, maybe we should get married then.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I don’t remember exactly what was said, but I remember apologizing how unromantic the proposal was, being over the phone and all, and her crying with happiness. I realized my biggest hang up, and kinda always has been, was the fact I haven’t met her 9-year-old son yet, whom doesn’t know a word of English. That was my hang up, and hers was thinking how she thought I was too young to be interested in marriage.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSZSVHt0Pm6hOHRa-arqsC4EZjEoU4Zx5VD5aEKWSUMutqkDogPFOuI_OwamM7KS5vxtrnP-1W5MLFJbRBeHfli91ku9TfKIvxwiFG_ZDHLmvIVvCgLRLALhjEArMgu1WjfOg6cl4QgtU/s1600/IMG_0248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSZSVHt0Pm6hOHRa-arqsC4EZjEoU4Zx5VD5aEKWSUMutqkDogPFOuI_OwamM7KS5vxtrnP-1W5MLFJbRBeHfli91ku9TfKIvxwiFG_ZDHLmvIVvCgLRLALhjEArMgu1WjfOg6cl4QgtU/s320/IMG_0248.JPG" width="320" /></a>It was a strange couple days to say the least. I mentioned considering proposing off hand the previous day to my mom, and the next day I found myself on the phone with my sister Patty in Victoria, getting a lecture on how to propose properly as my mom couldn’t contain her excitement. “Send her a ring in the mail, and have her open it when you can see her”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Odd vocabulary was suddenly coming at and out of me. My boss Eric gave everyone a beer from his special supply after work the next day where I the first official announcement was made. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Tony is engaged” I heard him announce. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“You’ll make a great husband and a wonderful Father” I heard from my friend Neal.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“I can see myself growing old with her” I mentioned to my mom.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">You know, stuff like that. Once I got over these strange new words and thoughts, I was more comfortable with sharing the news to others; my buds Lester and Mike went out for wings with me to celebrate.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUYVISRjZTJ79WwD-rQeoNUWPKfzlkNgC3pvbpRyESOIFUXLWBTDcgx6Un_Rh-7G6iG3YahHGprD10HkwFv7BbEY_w28lqu5b5WLRoXun8YjSTFS5H8tbEreKNm4S90ZVAgvMjG3c3g5s/s1600/IMG_0214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUYVISRjZTJ79WwD-rQeoNUWPKfzlkNgC3pvbpRyESOIFUXLWBTDcgx6Un_Rh-7G6iG3YahHGprD10HkwFv7BbEY_w28lqu5b5WLRoXun8YjSTFS5H8tbEreKNm4S90ZVAgvMjG3c3g5s/s320/IMG_0214.JPG" width="320" /></a>Originally I was thinking of a May wedding, as Ann’s birthday is on the 11<sup>th</sup>, and to my surprised, many of my friends in Japan had holidays then and would love to attend the ceremony. Unfortunately for things closer to home, it really is too short of notice. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I’ve talked briefly with Ann over plans, and we had a great chat when she went to an Internet café where we could see each other for the first time in many months. It would just be best if I went to Thailand, visited her family to help Ann “receive blessings from her relatives.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So at the moment things are on hold, though I’m hopeful for either an August wedding, or one next January similar to Melissa’s. The wedding would have to be in Thailand, and during a holiday in Japan when my friends can attend.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMVFFtakVwTQgH0JfEPUWcX7EHm9MoCIhJ_duUasVNkRyuKhL1i0YA8BESiVLcUT-HyDmOjJ7P0tBbObV_1QSeZ0RAHIe4IVvGMCi-hE9Oid5Tzga2qDgGGf20KweLs_njCDASP3OwDh8/s1600/IMG_0261.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMVFFtakVwTQgH0JfEPUWcX7EHm9MoCIhJ_duUasVNkRyuKhL1i0YA8BESiVLcUT-HyDmOjJ7P0tBbObV_1QSeZ0RAHIe4IVvGMCi-hE9Oid5Tzga2qDgGGf20KweLs_njCDASP3OwDh8/s320/IMG_0261.JPG" width="320" /></a>I’m just somewhat surprised how Ann never mentioned how she wanted to get married to me earlier. Like I said, she thought I didn’t want to get married, and one thing I notice about her, is how she hard she works to make this relationship work. The first email I got from her after the crushing disappointment of the latest visa denial roughly said:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">"I couldn’t pick up your phone because I was busy with my work, it doesn’t mean I don’t want to speak with you. I just felt sad for 2 days but now I am ok. I still love you, that will never change, Please do not worry. I hope one day I will have a chance to visit your family again. Please take care of your self and don’t worry too much. You do the best for me already.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgteq1ckHcm2trNJbyeaDAEGceR_mC27lNwne6YdhgI8pSNjD47g0N1rRFB7W5SVbjFJy1ZkWXdmzBTUeyTV18sRuk6Om8uV2gqTik-X5H3RHFVC879-8ONzdT8rOTKNL5vRgmIDo1UtPQ/s1600/IMG_0260.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgteq1ckHcm2trNJbyeaDAEGceR_mC27lNwne6YdhgI8pSNjD47g0N1rRFB7W5SVbjFJy1ZkWXdmzBTUeyTV18sRuk6Om8uV2gqTik-X5H3RHFVC879-8ONzdT8rOTKNL5vRgmIDo1UtPQ/s320/IMG_0260.JPG" width="320" /></a>One day in Japan I bugged her about how she hogged the bed one night and I had little room to sleep. That very night I saw her cramming as far into the corner as she could to give me space, and I felt bad. This wasn’t the first time I said something offhand or as a joke, and have seen her take extreme measures to make me happy. Just being with her makes me happy, so I try and reassure her of that and try to help her relax.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">That being said, there is a catch-22 situation coming up. If I get a good job, I won’t be able to see Ann for however long it takes to reassure my new employers I am a good employee. However if I hear nothing concrete by the end of this week, I’m going to make plans to go and see Ann for a week or two, around the time for her birthday on the 11<sup>th</sup>, possibly missing an interview or offer in the meantime.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVYDmPoDCJhpw4Eo0AYm2a4D7i5jBbM2iasry9lhghxa_emiIAK83pWDrfnR1cTFHYSFtDBPzSdpm98OsS0_EHLvhdKmBMYxWCIINeLmKrr67RecqHo91hgpJZfQUn_A2A3lVH6t73_7k/s1600/IMG_0266.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVYDmPoDCJhpw4Eo0AYm2a4D7i5jBbM2iasry9lhghxa_emiIAK83pWDrfnR1cTFHYSFtDBPzSdpm98OsS0_EHLvhdKmBMYxWCIINeLmKrr67RecqHo91hgpJZfQUn_A2A3lVH6t73_7k/s320/IMG_0266.JPG" width="320" /></a>The job front, as always, has been nothing but dismal unfortunately in this ‘booming’ province. It feels like I’m relying almost entirely on networking at this point, as I was informed I might get a call from a nearby company to which I would need to assure them I was “available immediately.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As I mentioned earlier, I have been applying for jobs for a good portion of today and yesterday as I got some time off from the restaurant. Because of finals at the university, we have been very short staffed, and I put in over 40 hours a week for a couple weeks now. Last Thursday 2 people didn’t come in so it was only the boss, the dishwasher, and I available to try and serve the many customers that flocked to the store before the long weekend.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYd3pkcDwRP-DZNBAda1XA8SAqnl2V9y1UDWs-LMNN37hSBkZ12JUS3PcnoTRK8w-k5FdPMTWk-yGR8fl_nwDAIXoG8V0F1UkbNj1S9nlAABxzcfmqGmQQSam86ElxDn-Hteg0rtJiFfQ/s1600/IMG_0239.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYd3pkcDwRP-DZNBAda1XA8SAqnl2V9y1UDWs-LMNN37hSBkZ12JUS3PcnoTRK8w-k5FdPMTWk-yGR8fl_nwDAIXoG8V0F1UkbNj1S9nlAABxzcfmqGmQQSam86ElxDn-Hteg0rtJiFfQ/s320/IMG_0239.JPG" width="320" /></a>Oh and some huge event came to town, a world curling championship or something. I was working and couldn’t go, but my friend Ken sent me a picture so I could post it atleast. Not much really new has been going on outside of work, sleep, and job applications. Occasionally the family will get together for a large meal, or breakfast or something, like Easter Sunday.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It was a full day of turkey, games and visiting, followed by snacks for supper and a movie. We started off by playing Mario, but John complained for something different. We changed the game twice to appease him, before he fell asleep on the couch anyways. We never did get to play Mario again that day, but maybe next time.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We did play games like crib and sequence, and I made marshmallow cheesecake for the first time since I was in Japan. I had the very weird experience of knowing what I was looking for in a grocery store, and not being able to find it. Had I been in Japan I would have found it immediately. This was a scenario often repeated in Japan but with reverse circumstances. In the end, instead of a concentrated mix of strawberry/blueberry flavour, I made up a batch of butterscotch pudding to give the cake beauty.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixJWNbW521M9FSeElW21o90yJeUO6gfyBzmbtb-uhrHlV-wCQJakH0hxRVlys-LeX6r7TAwwO1wpeJyBLenslQRQymL_ktqqnr38u4601ht0X2yLgILNU8n9_yjwfhG_GoW-GcRH4jvL0/s1600/IMG_0289.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixJWNbW521M9FSeElW21o90yJeUO6gfyBzmbtb-uhrHlV-wCQJakH0hxRVlys-LeX6r7TAwwO1wpeJyBLenslQRQymL_ktqqnr38u4601ht0X2yLgILNU8n9_yjwfhG_GoW-GcRH4jvL0/s320/IMG_0289.JPG" width="240" /></a>I was surprised at the number of compliments I received as well. Like I said, all I’ve really done for weeks was work and sleep, so when everyone saw me they could see how I’ve lost over 5kg from work. I was able to wear some shirts and pants I bought from Japan before I left, that I knew I’d be able to wear someday when I lost enough weight. It’s just odd how I eat worse than I have in years, with all the burgers and fries I’m exposed to, yet I’m finally shedding the pounds.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFzu1LlqMXwAe9iHXkuEe4jyPqnfCVBp92zRLi75R7plxwJHeZXQM_dJFKIxy_B9ghM223Iy3RNZdLI1giHOzCVkH-vOXwLw7KFBFpZAEuXC_DqDEOS1uJwvoz2F8uFZjBVoTRojiSnRQ/s1600/IMG_0297.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFzu1LlqMXwAe9iHXkuEe4jyPqnfCVBp92zRLi75R7plxwJHeZXQM_dJFKIxy_B9ghM223Iy3RNZdLI1giHOzCVkH-vOXwLw7KFBFpZAEuXC_DqDEOS1uJwvoz2F8uFZjBVoTRojiSnRQ/s320/IMG_0297.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Now that it’s starting to get nice out, I’m riding my bike to work. The first 3 out of 4 times I went, it snowed heavily of course; Murphy’s law or something. Now the weather is finally looking nice, and our cat Elvis is anxious to get outside and enjoy the weather. We got a collar for him so that he doesn’t run away or get killed on the busy road behind the house before he can get to know the area better.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">That’s enough for now, for my next entry hopefully you’ll hear a great story about my time in Thailand with Ann, or how I finally got a job from this ‘booming’ province.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
"The best way to escape from a problem is to solve it." -Alan Saporta</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
tnoy</div>Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-34831084022882825472011-03-23T15:16:00.001-07:002016-06-13T13:24:51.353-07:00Kicked Into the Abyss<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Ann tried for an education Visa and was denied. She didn’t want me to hear her crying, so she didn’t answer her phone for 3 days. She sent me an email with her rejection letter, and their reasoning boiled down to Ann is too poor to visit Canada; invitation from the University and sponsorship or not. They even told her not to apply for a Visa anymore.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqOqxB7PaJdGSkyvYANqCrTc06YgUnloarkcwO3t5bbMdhyphenhyphenltLFsCqSaZCe_LBUUUeJdOnLMnvnwHaZdCJtycVuHd-ll2NcPEveXKhl2wIk-Pn7GdRUtIz8SWR0Sswf-modPFfgpThzWQ/s1600/IMG_0180.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqOqxB7PaJdGSkyvYANqCrTc06YgUnloarkcwO3t5bbMdhyphenhyphenltLFsCqSaZCe_LBUUUeJdOnLMnvnwHaZdCJtycVuHd-ll2NcPEveXKhl2wIk-Pn7GdRUtIz8SWR0Sswf-modPFfgpThzWQ/s320/IMG_0180.JPG" width="320" /></a>I had a dull headache for 2 days after hearing the news, and Tylenol didn’t help much. I was in so much shock, I felt numb to everything. I remember lying in bed, feeling utterly hopeless, and knowing what I was going through paled in comparison to Ann’s pain. I felt powerless about my own financial and professional situation, and was frustrated to the point of spitting rage with my country’s immigration laws, made in haste after 9/11.</div>
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For the first time I truly and deeply regretted leaving Japan.</div>
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In retrospect, that was a huge reason for staying a 3<sup>rd</sup> year; having the freedom to do all those things I did, and that 3<sup>rd</sup> year I really got to know Ann better. In Japan I had a good paying job, and their embassy wasn’t an expensive, demanding vessel of pain and disappointment like the Canadian embassy. I promoted my country heavily with passion and love for the last 3 years in Japan, but now I felt utterly betrayed.</div>
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In my state of despair, I wrote a letter to my local MP. It detailed our struggles with the system. After calling his office I was advised to send an email and his assistants would look after me. I did, and the very same day I received a reply informing me that they sent a fax to the embassy requesting details on Ann’s denial.</div>
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Needless to say this took me by surprise. “What does that mean? Does she have a chance now?” These thoughts erupted like wildfire and lifted me from my emotional numbness. Try as I may to fight the (false?) hope, it was a restless night with visions of grandeur. Our government working hard for its people, smacking down the incompetence of the embassy. Ann and I walking in, holding hands, while flipping off every employee there for the suffering they doled out. Of course, these were the fantasies of a traumatized person, not unlike a superhero smack down against a schoolyard bully. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1nuN4WiqB9ynHauPKTmsyTzQn0NGu4Le1OSnkydwrPT3Nl1X8U1eEUXpeUs3Rxt2Ql3nXoqbha4nGJ2JMsmy5OyJ4824ppL1sr84LHfCYWRnSRFrEl8s6kZTXzEO0JvGE64Iq-9Jw-hc/s1600/IMG_0190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1nuN4WiqB9ynHauPKTmsyTzQn0NGu4Le1OSnkydwrPT3Nl1X8U1eEUXpeUs3Rxt2Ql3nXoqbha4nGJ2JMsmy5OyJ4824ppL1sr84LHfCYWRnSRFrEl8s6kZTXzEO0JvGE64Iq-9Jw-hc/s320/IMG_0190.JPG" width="320" /></a>Today, the pain has mostly subsided, and I made a follow-up email today. Typically they don’t hear back for a couple weeks so I guess it’s still in the air? If things don’t work out again, it seems I’ll be saving my money for an immigration lawyer to fight the bureaucracy at the embassy, or whatever needs to be done.</div>
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Another thing that helped me to feel better is I finally received my pension refund from Japan. Since Wall Street and whoever does what they can to capitalize on the tragedy in Japan, the strength of the yen is unusually high, making an exceptional strong return for me. I now have some spending money, but am at a crossroads what to do with it after dipping so heavily into my savings for so long. Get a used car? Buy a cell phone? Go on a trip to see Ann? </div>
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I decided against the former until I know what my plan is for the long term, and I was somewhat depressed thinking I could be washing dishes for the next 3 months or so. Every time I hear about a company doing a mass hiring and having to import labour from places as far away as Europe, it feels like I’m getting kicked in the stomach because I still haven’t had an interview and I’ve been in Canada for a long, eight months already.</div>
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In my depressed state I contemplated just leaving everything and going to teach in Thailand to be with Ann again since it feels like my degree has let me down. I went to school so I wouldn’t have to wash dishes. It honestly felt like there was nothing for me here in Canada, my country that betrayed me. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimAN6u7dBBY8E2CqOoJZAH-TGIiUwQBWa-XumnX-LNmuTFSXbsh_ZDdm7uY9-q-iqtMhsThRxNbOYlLjwEPLfI8RyY-bsuWbXFD56b6Ov65BKEQpVNVtY4kCspbTeJrxcOVtXgmCahFeU/s1600/IMG_0165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimAN6u7dBBY8E2CqOoJZAH-TGIiUwQBWa-XumnX-LNmuTFSXbsh_ZDdm7uY9-q-iqtMhsThRxNbOYlLjwEPLfI8RyY-bsuWbXFD56b6Ov65BKEQpVNVtY4kCspbTeJrxcOVtXgmCahFeU/s320/IMG_0165.JPG" width="320" /></a>The only thoughts I had against this were my feelings for my good friend Ken, who lent me his truck, and has been very good to me. My brother John who drove me to the gym almost daily and enjoys my company, and my mom who feeds me and gives me a warm bed to sleep in. Of course there are more people, but these 3 have been exceptional lights during my dark, dark days.</div>
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I recognize I am in a bad place right now. After Ann stopped crying and my angsty teenage fantasies left, I could find little to talk about, and have been getting sick from menial things like the head cold I have right now. When I do chat, with my good friend Neal for example, I can’t help but notice how negative and depressing the conversation turns. I would rather not be a burden that way, and prefer not saying anything. Misery loves company, sure, but it’s not right to put that on other people.</div>
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I knew I was in a bad place when I noticed I started to monologue to myself again. When things got really bad in Japan, I would put it into words as if I was writing my blog, and I rediscovered how therapeutic this typing is. Putting your thoughts into words is an ideal way to work out your problems, though maybe I’m struggling with this more because of just how powerless I feel with my biggest problems right now: Ann can’t come to Canada, and I can’t find an engineering job.</div>
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Because of my pension payout, I’m ok for money for now, even if it’s a little to play around with. I like that quote though: “Money is like air, you only care about it if you don’t have enough.” If more people thought like that, we’d probably have a lot less problems, but I digress.</div>
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I’m starting to feel a bit better now; I need to start writing these more regularly. Naturally, I don’t want to leave off on such a low, depressing note either. As far as jobs go, I feel like I’m lucky to be where I am. My boss, Eric, is a really cool guy and most days after work I’ll stay after hours for drinks and conversation. Tonight I’ll bring some of my rum from the Dominican Republic to share.</div>
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One of his friends, Jack, stayed and had a good chat with us last night as well. He has already handed out my resume in the past, and wanted a copy to try at more locations for me. Not only did he offer to critique it, he was going to talk with his friend to see if he can get Ann work here in Canada. I know we didn’t really want to try it before, as it will be a 9-month process or more. But like the Education Visa before it, we’re considering all options. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh68_6qzRUEt-VHjbSqFCzp2B491FypoXrglZYQLe-8aYGVyCmybl3gdoWSkEX8tFz7NHYkUA1_thAVVcReKmOGUVnU4nMuNOKq06g27LIM71c4RFPmGWWCj93xX-UgmluP1Aw9KWqgblQ/s1600/never-give-up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh68_6qzRUEt-VHjbSqFCzp2B491FypoXrglZYQLe-8aYGVyCmybl3gdoWSkEX8tFz7NHYkUA1_thAVVcReKmOGUVnU4nMuNOKq06g27LIM71c4RFPmGWWCj93xX-UgmluP1Aw9KWqgblQ/s320/never-give-up.jpg" width="225" /></a>One thing Eric mentioned, an immigrant to Canada himself, was a photo he had hanging up in his office: “Never Give Up.” I feel it’s appropriate to put it up again for you, though I’m sure you’ve seen it before.</div>
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My dad treated me to Red Lobster on Sunday as well a belated birthday present. Interestingly enough the conversation turned to Japan. Try as I might, I couldn’t undo the damage and fear mongering our western media has put into people. It’s times like that I feel like I need to carry around a fact sheet or memorizing my sources.</div>
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I read a comic not that long ago that hits the nail on the head: the more knowledgeable you are about something, the more uncertain you are about giving definite answers. There are always variables, things can always change, and the more you learn about something, the more there will always be to learn. “True knowledge is understanding that you know nothing.” <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH5vf7ka6o4h-ePZ1Ty9b-toFo8hpVj_w1y960yr1fT-B9fILteN0e6EGnlwDE0e7wVwPpCucsygo89zGRHlPyXEfaMk5E3E9HOd6jdtZCNGtrsRU2mt72UJ9MuuM3FjdBiP37Ewmwrvc/s1600/IMG_0200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH5vf7ka6o4h-ePZ1Ty9b-toFo8hpVj_w1y960yr1fT-B9fILteN0e6EGnlwDE0e7wVwPpCucsygo89zGRHlPyXEfaMk5E3E9HOd6jdtZCNGtrsRU2mt72UJ9MuuM3FjdBiP37Ewmwrvc/s320/IMG_0200.JPG" width="320" /></a>Japan’s nuclear situation will be ok, and there will be no Chernobyl. As far as I know, most of Nagano has been lucky, though many haven’t along the coast of Japan. I wish there was more I could do to help out, but so far all I have done is donated to the Red Cross, and you should as well if you haven’t. I have read some of my friends’ statuses mentioning the volunteer work for the relief effort they’ll be a part of. Good on them I say, I wish I were there helping too. </div>
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On Monday night mom made a big chicken supper. I was eating and then, almost strangely, I was way too full and couldn’t finish the rest of my plate. It’s always neat when my stomach shrinks and I think my job has helped me trim down a bit. A couple hours later John needed my help playing Volleyball, so all that chicken got a crazy rollercoaster ride; it was a struggle, but fun. Kurt played with us too.</div>
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Here’s hoping for better days eh? I keep saying: “cross your fingers” for good news, but that clearly isn’t working. You make your own luck anyways I guess.</div>
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"How people treat you is their karma; how you react is yours." -Wayne Dyer </div>
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Trying hard to keep my chin up,</div>
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tnoy</div>
Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-23805131850102258972011-03-12T00:24:00.001-08:002011-03-12T10:14:18.576-08:00Saskatchewan’s Never Ending WinterI’m inebriated, but desire a new blog entry… starting all the way back to the end of January, when we came back from Melissa’s wedding. Patty and Chad stayed with us in Regina for a couple days before going back, which gave us more opportunities to corrupt Chad. We got him casually calling Patty by her name “Patty” and not by the nickname she wants… Terran or something. Her retaliation was swift and brutal against his slips, making it all the more amusing.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSeJJxmrc-jZrECMTDDpUaC1ywGzodRuxtzSFKf1-KL6aZ4HS-JRGVu9hoNhf7nNY3zutbNcImNdmnwpmrbFc3-y6TCbruRoQ9L55I0wH85gSwHsbMeOxVEumy781oFlHfOIO8e21YxQg/s1600/IMG_0018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSeJJxmrc-jZrECMTDDpUaC1ywGzodRuxtzSFKf1-KL6aZ4HS-JRGVu9hoNhf7nNY3zutbNcImNdmnwpmrbFc3-y6TCbruRoQ9L55I0wH85gSwHsbMeOxVEumy781oFlHfOIO8e21YxQg/s320/IMG_0018.JPG" width="320" /></a>One morning the poor, naive <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span>Victoria-raised boy looked at our driveway with a child-like innocence. “What is all this snow?” he seemed to ask himself, the same way we would ask ourselves: “What’s up with all this ocean?” for which every job in his life involved. With his optimism burning and his damsel in distress Patty standing by, he courageously or foolishly proclaimed: “Let me shovel that driveway!” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Perhaps seemingly speechless at his chivalry, Patty and I didn’t hesitate looking a gift horse in the mouth. “Let me show you where those shovels are” I volunteered. High in pride and spirit, off he marched into that white, packed mess of snow, and started shoveling the “wrong way” should there be one.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“Should we give him pointers on how to do it right?” Patty suggested to me. As far as I was concerned, he was in God’s hands now. Instead I suggested we simply stay inside where it was warm while he got his fill of Saskatchewan’s freezing love. Sure enough when he came in later he was cold, tired, and was perfectly fine with never having to shovel a driveway again. He’s a smart lad; catches on quick.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiHUXT9o30_kA4SHLo_HHJSpG_tHkJRVTBjzSvPtkmaGGwqql_qhuzzmiOYJXx1TArz-1S_QFX3Ip1IOP53xAtTYKP-TN9Bb2-rk8tCVgSLJNReQZijEBajIvdNPLguz3dfT7rg4hozJU/s1600/IMG_3785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiHUXT9o30_kA4SHLo_HHJSpG_tHkJRVTBjzSvPtkmaGGwqql_qhuzzmiOYJXx1TArz-1S_QFX3Ip1IOP53xAtTYKP-TN9Bb2-rk8tCVgSLJNReQZijEBajIvdNPLguz3dfT7rg4hozJU/s320/IMG_3785.JPG" width="320" /></a>Luckily for me, they are also board game enthusiasts. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span>I was able to play the game of “Life” with them that I stole from my Grandma a month earlier like a terrible grandchild (see the Christmas post, it was legal and not done in malice).</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I picked a pink car and drove around with my husband. Together we had atleast 4 sons, quickly filling the car with flamboyant men. Later we had a daughter, and speculated on how her upbringing would be noteworthy to say the least. Chad and I had great jobs, while Patty lost thousands on new businesses and whatever. Chad ending up winning, and it was a lot of fun.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Later we played Settlers of Catan. This game is all awesome to say the least. Unquestionably, I got the two of them hooked, and can’t wait to see them again to play some more. I think everyone was able to win a game each, and I finally was able to talk my mom into joining a round, her first since her obsessive addiction while visiting in Japan the year prior. I guess she was afraid of playing again for so long lest she risk reigniting that previous passion.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2xAfuA0BSWNOjHzBCpy8PnYll4KxNojTF5tslKQ6kIO2SUS8s0yQuwIAHknA_oeE-uI5wsobUr2t62NTquwXbacYDe-8uJTKk28rY5pgWIuKq0R8b8gmp0MlforVuexaR4twiHZ0yoEk/s1600/IMG_3771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2xAfuA0BSWNOjHzBCpy8PnYll4KxNojTF5tslKQ6kIO2SUS8s0yQuwIAHknA_oeE-uI5wsobUr2t62NTquwXbacYDe-8uJTKk28rY5pgWIuKq0R8b8gmp0MlforVuexaR4twiHZ0yoEk/s320/IMG_3771.JPG" width="240" /></a>Later we all shared a belated Christmas together. We gathered at the<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span> tree and exchanged gifts. Originally due to the (somewhat pricey) destination wedding, it was decided to not buy gifts for each other. Things happened of course, maybe it started with my trip to Vegas and the procurement of gifts there, or perhaps it was Patty flying blatantly against the uneasy agreement. Regardless of what started it, it left others, John in particular, scrambling to buy gifts for family members once again. It’s good to buy that stuff after Christmas day anyways, so atleast we had that going for us.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s unnecessary to proclaim the enjoyment experienced. I’m just happy the presents made of clothing, for which I try to never buy, were received so well. More importantly, they were the correct sizes. Even the shirts I bought for my dad were a good fit.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Lots ‘o food, lots ‘o fun.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWwggxv4K4ijGwbY1jmm7-Niinj5EL5jEH7WGUUkIYUsXt7XYipPeEobdGfa-Wl2l9_chKajHTc0zXSgEguQCtJSE_yzPoedEsxJ6gnrCkhYMBSCZ-L-ij0rg1ph9j77pGzDDsPs3ioy0/s1600/IMG_0049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWwggxv4K4ijGwbY1jmm7-Niinj5EL5jEH7WGUUkIYUsXt7XYipPeEobdGfa-Wl2l9_chKajHTc0zXSgEguQCtJSE_yzPoedEsxJ6gnrCkhYMBSCZ-L-ij0rg1ph9j77pGzDDsPs3ioy0/s320/IMG_0049.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">With my Christmas money and gift certificate, I waited for a sale. I knew what camera I wanted, (curse my lost old camera! Wherever it may be…) A Canon Powershot SX210IS. It was almost $100 off, and I got an open boxed item; a common occurrence<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span> around Christmas as people may not be gifted their colour of choosing. This 15% off (or 5 maybe) was the deciding factor in getting a black model instead of purple; a less than desirable colour sure, but one fit to carry on the spirit of my previous pink models that have served me well.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The first 100 photos or so are of my cat, Elvis, and myself mostly screwing around with the many features. It zooms up to 14x, and has features/modes that large expensive cameras need multi-hundred dollar lenses to achieve. For example the earlier pic, where it focuses on one item while blurring its surroundings. I was particularly impressed with its long exposure for those night shots I love so much, and a mini tripod to help capture them.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGY4Z_XGPYadqR2aGsiDaGxd3JZElBK_IWiqN9cFOqm9OwXvTiNZ5iJeEjFa6UtRcW-bmMP55KoEIBpcjR8q0NrqUxXXUou5qrre7NSPy6liB-xWihYKAv1MMiAQrnOkqWLiFJqUgvxc/s1600/IMG_0076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGY4Z_XGPYadqR2aGsiDaGxd3JZElBK_IWiqN9cFOqm9OwXvTiNZ5iJeEjFa6UtRcW-bmMP55KoEIBpcjR8q0NrqUxXXUou5qrre7NSPy6liB-xWihYKAv1MMiAQrnOkqWLiFJqUgvxc/s320/IMG_0076.JPG" width="320" /></a>I think it was the next day when I went to the university. You know how it is when you’re super duper extra special careful with something right? It was a cold day, I took my new camera out of its special protective case and made sure its strap was secure around my one wrist. My eyes not leaving it, I carefully put my glove on my left hand again. I needed my right hand to take a shot, so I took my glove off. One move, one thought, slow and steady. Be careful and you’ll be ok, right?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The strap was around that glove and not my wrist, so as my glove came off, so too, did that new expensive fancy camera, down onto that nicely plowed sidewalk of cold, hard, concrete.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My stomach dropped and hit that concrete just as hard as the camera did. I was positively Ill. The case got scratched and bent, but I tried really hard to look at the positive side to it all. Now that it was damaged, I won’t worry too much more about damaging it again, and the bottom line was it still works great. I took a lot of photos of the university that day, and was surprised to see that ball of trash/art was still there taking up space.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj52rYiNIlm4j-fDr2b44sZ3uMvGXQVR2_KQTvh5w9zQOY58t2r3NThR1A-QvDrrtGnCsItJwVZnDNXy1l1JXTzsABdSjDue8II9-5hj3JFEd609ahCT-JbLLDNsX68zcNjnr1Q_frblis/s1600/IMG_0077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj52rYiNIlm4j-fDr2b44sZ3uMvGXQVR2_KQTvh5w9zQOY58t2r3NThR1A-QvDrrtGnCsItJwVZnDNXy1l1JXTzsABdSjDue8II9-5hj3JFEd609ahCT-JbLLDNsX68zcNjnr1Q_frblis/s320/IMG_0077.JPG" width="320" /></a>I was there that day to pay for Ann’s ESL down payment<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span>. Giving up on visiting and acquiring a job in Thailand (I’m still done with teaching), we’re trying to get her an Education Visa now. ESL is the English as a Second Language program at the university. They assured me it would be difficult to reject an invitation like this from an educational institution, but regardless, her interview is next Wednesday. So from January, it's been another struggle with the Embassy for this piece of paper or that, to try and apply again. It’s good we started so soon; classes start in May, and I’ve had to buy her plane tickets already as well.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Best-case scenario: Ann will come to Canada to study English at the end of April. Worst-case scenario: Ann will be rejected, yet again… then who knows. I would rather not think about it. I haven’t seen her since June of last year. I remember in the past I would think back to my years-ago relationship with Crystal when I lived in China; long distance is simply not worth it. Alas, Ann is worth it, but if my government won’t let her come here, I’m at a loss for what to do short of marriage: an expensive and lengthy piece of paperwork itself.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIleqZutblbZWcYC7PEacyta8lxMakNV8DZsjAqzz2dzCfDx6MYfpkxggQfwIVOq6FEwlbZ5r1d_mO0svFcuJ-r__TI_ZLXUeseVgsJBjt2H13jA-KA3dKCn5QI-9tWGXgBrJeKejW7C4/s1600/IMG_0154.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIleqZutblbZWcYC7PEacyta8lxMakNV8DZsjAqzz2dzCfDx6MYfpkxggQfwIVOq6FEwlbZ5r1d_mO0svFcuJ-r__TI_ZLXUeseVgsJBjt2H13jA-KA3dKCn5QI-9tWGXgBrJeKejW7C4/s320/IMG_0154.JPG" width="320" /></a>Maybe more happened i<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span>n January, maybe not. My photos ran out. As I opened up my February folder, my heart sank a bit to see a mere 49 photos in total. I have vague memories of this time, but do know most of it wasn’t pretty. Days came and went. I tried to keep a ‘regular’ sleep schedule… but what was the point? I had no reason to go to bed, and at the same that I had no reason to wake up in the morning.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Before I knew it I was watching cartoons at 3 in the morning on TV again, and sleeping past noon. One weekend I played an awesome video game, Silent Storm, nonstop. The next, I downloaded and started watching Star Trek: The Original Series just for something to do. One time my mom walked in on me watching it, and it was probably worse than her catching me watching something naughty: “Why are you watching that?!? It’s so <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">old!</i>” Steve explained it to me as my nerd reflex coming out.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Anyways the only thing different from my weeknights and my Saturday night was: I told myself “Hey it’s Saturday, I should drink” and poured myself a little alcohol I got in the Dominican. That’s it.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgABN7giXr5KSaUt-qrcjnDgfKHfpzbCVX30q6qs-6E4D_xGupGtc9rI7eVnIIZUNSFCcRkdAbPWUXGmBWfCW3HSPCy6NMg7YlCJFpttXRpChiEPeHk6MPM_0EdhoIr2_PwyqWmSlFLP1g/s1600/IMG_0102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgABN7giXr5KSaUt-qrcjnDgfKHfpzbCVX30q6qs-6E4D_xGupGtc9rI7eVnIIZUNSFCcRkdAbPWUXGmBWfCW3HSPCy6NMg7YlCJFpttXRpChiEPeHk6MPM_0EdhoIr2_PwyqWmSlFLP1g/s320/IMG_0102.JPG" width="320" /></a>I thought of the times I spent happily with my grandparents. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span>I thought of the conversations I had with people I hadn’t seen in over 3 years. I thought of all the family members I finally got to see and laugh with again over Christmas. I thought of the friends that seemed just out of reach; most importantly I didn’t feel like I had money to spare to put gas in the truck that wasn’t even mine to see them again.</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Sure sometimes I’d rarely see some friends (and order the cheapest thing on the menu) and tried to go to the gym with my brother as often as possible, but it’s still a depressing existence, that. Nothing to do but sleep, waste time, and apply for jobs. Oh did I apply for jobs. I went to several places around the city in person. I called many of them on the phone. There was a job fair at the university in February. There was a job fair at the Conexus Art Center last week. I showed up, and tried to give my resume to anyone that would take it.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Many at the University fair would tell me to check out their website, which clearly wasn’t working for me. Our local newspaper, The Leader Post, recently heavily advertised “Engineering Week” for Saskatchewan, boasting the need to hire 1000 engineers in mining alone. I went to websites of many of the firms advertised, and was disappointed to read: “No opportunities currently available.” My mom suggested writing the newspaper directly to vent my frustrations. It got to the point where I would look at those ‘job openings’ and ‘lies’ was all I could think as I dismissed the propaganda.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAP8IJ2h39DcqjpUmWTDdDSQcSuRDzRseZ_xoKScRobhV2vBjzlYXMNZdwG94cs5WprS1ZdfPrSrjvYfB8hbsi6_8dfcY30slV3nvUfxwzzfGN5o5bwAz852SmSo4FZhXdV0DZt1eJ-V4/s1600/IMG_0127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAP8IJ2h39DcqjpUmWTDdDSQcSuRDzRseZ_xoKScRobhV2vBjzlYXMNZdwG94cs5WprS1ZdfPrSrjvYfB8hbsi6_8dfcY30slV3nvUfxwzzfGN5o5bwAz852SmSo4FZhXdV0DZt1eJ-V4/s320/IMG_0127.JPG" width="320" /></a>I told my mom previously, should <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span>March come and I still don’t have work, I’ll join the army. Not a particularly desirable option, but atleast I’ll be an Engineer again. The closer the time came and the more I looked into it, the less viable it became. Eventually, I was forced to consider less desirable markets. One day my mom and I went out and applied to every local business in the area; Best Buy, Subway, Costco, Canadian Tire and more. Since I had not even had an interview in 7 months, in that time I rebuilt my resume from top to bottom 3 times.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">One of those places we drove by had a “Help Wanted” sign on the window. This humble place is called “Smokin’ Okies” BBQ. I walked in, handed in my resume, and almost immediately the owner Eric came to me and talked with me personally. A quick look at my resume, and he told me I was “a bit over qualified to work at a restaurant.” Unfortunately, that is probably the same thing everyone was thinking when my resume was tossed from consideration.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">For the first time in years, I heard back from an employer. Eric called me almost a week later, checked to see how my job hunt was going, and asked me to start in a couple hours. I was more than happy to oblige. Earlier, I briefly wondered if service industry work was “beneath me” but then thought that a man in my position doesn’t have much of a right to be asking that. I also remember a quote from long ago: “If you are hired as a broom sweeper, then be the best damn broom sweeper they have ever had and go from there.” So finally, at long last, after 7 months of despair, I had work again.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNdHsMGz5ErgiNY6uq1aIHmqc5oUKK6jaseWPhqcZjUhrdz1_frX_6PwPA0eY4yZ6NOUcICevBWiqBw3zFRK0F2mHNGtGTj8CX3Z5MQo3_JqLL4ZSoudeBjFoeswOehx8MWerzfEvdnuE/s1600/IMG_0138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNdHsMGz5ErgiNY6uq1aIHmqc5oUKK6jaseWPhqcZjUhrdz1_frX_6PwPA0eY4yZ6NOUcICevBWiqBw3zFRK0F2mHNGtGTj8CX3Z5MQo3_JqLL4ZSoudeBjFoeswOehx8MWerzfEvdnuE/s320/IMG_0138.JPG" width="320" /></a>The first week was rather hard. Hell, in the first 5 minutes<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span> I screwed up and broke something. Regardless I did my best to stick to it, and be the best whatever-was-needed-at-the-moment kind of guy. I was only 2 days in when I ran into someone I knew.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Until then I was half hoping to keep this a somewhat secret in my life, which would explain my deer-in-the-headlights moment when I saw my Aunt Wendy wave me down. I didn’t know what else to say, but the truth never hurts:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It felt damn good to have a job again.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I had an income again. I was making new friends. My time once again had a value. But most importantly, I had a reason to wake up in the morning. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I kept these positive thoughts in mind constantly. For example on my first or second day a dude asked me what I wanted to do with my life. There I was, me with my meat apron on while leaning on my mop stick, talking about the robots I wanted to build, the new technology I wanted to develop, the space agencies I was applying at, and how I wanted to dedicate my life to a purpose greater than my ego, for all of mankind.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">If I didn’t already have an expensive 5-year university education, I probably would have looked like an optimistic but naive youngster, reaching for stars far out of reach… Perhaps I still am. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">How close can I realistically come to my childhood dreams? As the powerful quote goes: “Dreams don’t die, we kill them.” There doesn’t seem to be much commercial interest in space, atleast not nearly as much as there is in the exploitation of our planet's finite resources. That unfortunately seem to be the limited options I can apply my talents to, but at this point it's probably clear I'm open to many options, especially if it's a way to see Ann again.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Uy5VIOza4EpkUjLtcIUhA9rs-jZ39ozmiZQ3ryzJU13KT2huDBqZZWNS89BOvz4iUNZE2ckYB7Lv7r1MyX2GHG7roTn2B2ikwhA7ie_xIrUnR5LPmJREM1Y_fl1YUeDx19BfYRlvpAM/s1600/IMG_0130.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Uy5VIOza4EpkUjLtcIUhA9rs-jZ39ozmiZQ3ryzJU13KT2huDBqZZWNS89BOvz4iUNZE2ckYB7Lv7r1MyX2GHG7roTn2B2ikwhA7ie_xIrUnR5LPmJREM1Y_fl1YUeDx19BfYRlvpAM/s320/IMG_0130.JPG" width="320" /></a>Let’s take a quick break and talk about my birthday on March <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span>1<sup>st</sup>. John, Melissa, Chris and his wife Fiona and I went to Sake on Albert St. for some all-you-can-eat sushi. It was $22 or so, and was well worth it. We ate, talked, and laughed until our stomachs hurt. I used my birthday money/gifts to re-buy a game I lost in Japan: the New Super Mario Bros Wii, easily the best party game I’ve ever owned. <br />
<br />
I also got my first paycheck in over 7 months! Sure I only had worked 2 shifts, but I almost wanted to hang it in a picture frame more than cash it in.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">That was Tuesday, and mom’s birthday was Friday. She didn't do much either, but Melissa and I went out with her for some food. It’s been a good March so far I guess, one week it was nice and spring-like, but the next week it snowed nonstop. The only thing my breath is held for at the moment is Ann’s interview next week with the embassy. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I remember (almost a year ago?) how I mentioned that another job in Japan would be a step backwards for me, while a job in Regina would be 2 steps back. My how things have changed, unemployment does strange things to a person. Whenever a young person I work with shows envy with my situation, I tell them “The first 3 months are fun, but 7 is just too much.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s interesting to note how I’ve hit a noticeable generation gap. Many of my co-workers are 10 years younger than me, rather than me being the youngest person at the company. The first question asked to me by many of my coworkers is “how old are you?” followed by “how tall are you?” One girl even asked me how many kids I have. Today some of the highschoolers were bugging each other about crushes, making me feel old. World perspectives seem to have changed in my time as well.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk6_glwW7K2nQMmLb1ABhpuW790bo8K4cVpeLo44vvZRLKUQUD8S6uD-6y2Sdzyhm0gIqi6teP9nQ6ZNRq6QiaOyzCrUNVE6u2ClOLYYBw2jwQLtJMOKRJZRaHBWU2Jv23ZyukrsHF-Co/s1600/IMG_0140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk6_glwW7K2nQMmLb1ABhpuW790bo8K4cVpeLo44vvZRLKUQUD8S6uD-6y2Sdzyhm0gIqi6teP9nQ6ZNRq6QiaOyzCrUNVE6u2ClOLYYBw2jwQLtJMOKRJZRaHBWU2Jv23ZyukrsHF-Co/s320/IMG_0140.JPG" width="320" /></a>But here I am today. I work hard at my job, and strive to be a valuable employee. To my surprise, a number of people have connections to different Engineering establishments, so there is hope to draw from that as well. In the end, it always comes down to whom you know rather than your own personal merits unfortunately. As a social species, I suppose it makes alot of sense. Regardless I’ll take any help I can get at this point; I even have my learner’s 1A license should I want to try and drive a Semi around the country for a while.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Until then the job is getting better all the time as I get more proficient and become more acquainted with the staff. After work tonight I stayed for a drink or two with Jeff and Erik, which lead to my current sloshed state at 2 in the morning. We chatted about several different things, and I think I’ve made new friends.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I’m beginning to believe this new job is my “turning point.”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">"When you feel like giving up, remember why you held on for so long in the first place." -Author Unknown </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">tnoy</div>Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-74125650636219733482011-01-12T13:33:00.000-08:002011-01-12T13:33:23.311-08:00Christmas in Canada<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">December was a fun month, even if it felt like full-on hibernation at times. If I get upset about the cold though, I only have to remember the winters I endured in Japan and I’m once again humbled. The powers of central heating are that strong.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWjlC7TN1IDwAs79HXsLPVGkRzC6vG7jU8hEAdaDRF4FFE4p_JSSLRH_Gj2ZN3CZubSnp66pORb4_0A_TbrLEuCntYErSSH5L5kf99O2bspRSvjuU-AeAnBts9LrOuS61ihsqkuM6riSk/s1600/IMG_3042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWjlC7TN1IDwAs79HXsLPVGkRzC6vG7jU8hEAdaDRF4FFE4p_JSSLRH_Gj2ZN3CZubSnp66pORb4_0A_TbrLEuCntYErSSH5L5kf99O2bspRSvjuU-AeAnBts9LrOuS61ihsqkuM6riSk/s320/IMG_3042.JPG" width="240" /></a>I don’t remember too many things of note other than trying to stay warm in the basement, looking and applying for jobs and not going out much to save as much money as I could. I’ve been lucky the times I have gone out with friends and family, as they usually help me out with the bill. I make sure I stay grateful, and hope to pay back the kindness in the future.<br />
<br />
It would be great to go to work again and have a routine. Currently the closest thing I have to a routine other than staying up and sleeping in late is going to the gym with my brother John. Along with the job-hunting, efforts there have increased. I haven’t really much result yet despite the grueling routines, but I keep reminding myself that muscle weighs more than fat, and it won’t happen overnight.<br />
<br />
We had home-made pizza, I helped paint a spare room in Mom’s house, I hit level 80 in that Warcraft game and pretty much quit right after. I only signed up because a bunch of friends were starting new characters together, but 2 days in they were 15 levels above me so I’m not holding my breath for a social experience.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzKSh3H1EauUD_vKOCCqAPxVA22-CNApqACgBNKbFoe_zUGVvrI_uvVoozcowxSZwdwDMglqnZIegnLkGEynT9DdVZ3kkAhNYGRMpiKjUdezYoGuU2yvKdfC9eSDEh19ORmsdbdf4mz88/s1600/IMG_3040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzKSh3H1EauUD_vKOCCqAPxVA22-CNApqACgBNKbFoe_zUGVvrI_uvVoozcowxSZwdwDMglqnZIegnLkGEynT9DdVZ3kkAhNYGRMpiKjUdezYoGuU2yvKdfC9eSDEh19ORmsdbdf4mz88/s320/IMG_3040.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>It seems like I’m shoveling the driveway more days than not, and I was asked to look after 2 different people’s cats while they were on holidays since most people know I don’t get out much anymore. It was a fairly easy job, as cats are much better than dogs in my opinion, but that’s just me.<br />
<br />
Ann is still working hard, often putting in 12 to 16-hour days at a restaurant for around $1 an hour in Thailand. While she loves the Nanny work, the restaurant is a lot more stable, and she is excited to practice her English with people. She sent a box of Christmas presents for my family and I, but we have yet to open it.<br />
<br />
Because of Melissa’s wedding (coming soon!) and the great expense incurred there, Christmas was somewhat “written off” this year. Later we found out Patty bought presents for everyone, and coupled with the stuff I bought in Vegas, it left the others scrambling to get stuff as well. We’ll most likely celebrate after we get back from the Dominican on the 20th.<br />
<br />
Speaking of Christmas, this was my first time celebrating it in Canada in 4 years. The first time I missed it, for those keeping track, I was in my office in Japan. The second time was spent on a beach in Thailand with Richard. The 3rd time, in Thailand again, but this time with Ann in Bangkok, and we watched a Muppet’s Christmas Carol on TV.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgW-HrFhi0LtnshjPnL3LkECPP1RcII1RI2isTh5tBttVxJTcAcalaDHLq8Wn9ouvyAqWrfYlhJKtY3sMqOQjWwDqBTwWm6YR7yUJ-fbpvBlYLydePCHtfDfkC_-M2CvKyJt_wZnFwa-o/s1600/IMG_3055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgW-HrFhi0LtnshjPnL3LkECPP1RcII1RI2isTh5tBttVxJTcAcalaDHLq8Wn9ouvyAqWrfYlhJKtY3sMqOQjWwDqBTwWm6YR7yUJ-fbpvBlYLydePCHtfDfkC_-M2CvKyJt_wZnFwa-o/s320/IMG_3055.JPG" width="320" /></a>I knew my current state of unemployment was getting especially bad when I woke up one morning wondering if it was Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. It was the Eve apparently, and we went to my Aunt Donna’s to celebrate. It started late and ended a bit early, but it was still fun. Unfortunately everyone had to work that night except John and I, and the first thing that happened to us when we arrived was being drafted to draw straws on the role of Santa.<br />
<br />
Now John has been many times before, so maybe it was good I drew the short one. I don’t know why I was so nervous at first after all my performances in classrooms for years. I tried to blame the anxiety on being surrounded by family and knowing they would all understand what I was saying. As I thought, it all went great as soon as I was out in front of them.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaoZBhdQ1Nv5pR4tTOxcg-JTsID5_QBLHuBlOvt9SlAKYjUSbUrAwtqeCiS1Vo9xCOfmZuhejr7mmFRNWEMb3hRATM1VUmXVUrLbea3BkliWXHfEaAmSTASOlHpoVwDU3ix9nRkbIGdBY/s1600/IMG_3059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaoZBhdQ1Nv5pR4tTOxcg-JTsID5_QBLHuBlOvt9SlAKYjUSbUrAwtqeCiS1Vo9xCOfmZuhejr7mmFRNWEMb3hRATM1VUmXVUrLbea3BkliWXHfEaAmSTASOlHpoVwDU3ix9nRkbIGdBY/s320/IMG_3059.JPG" width="320" /></a>I joked around, asked the little kids questions, and posed for many pictures with various family members sitting on my red lap. I was surprised how nice the costume was, and I’m glad my entertaining skills from Japan haven’t stagnated or were acquired in vain. For example, I had to explain Santa’s drinking problem, as Mazelin, the youngest girl there, recently saw him drinking Tequila on the beach in Mexico. Also, where my reindeer were and what they eat.<br />
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As there aren’t many children in the family anymore, my role was extremely short, and it was time to get back to my reindeer. Mazelin was asked to pick a parting carol and chose Frosty The Snowman. “Sure!” I thought, this is a good song, and launched the family into it.<br />
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Literally one sentence into the song, I hit a brick wall. I remembered the melody, but couldn’t remember any of the words. I’m not sure if I’ve ever properly learnt them, it is one of the harder songs after all right? I started to drag my lead, looking around the room desperately for someone to take it away. The best effort was by my Aunt Donna, who made it to the 3rd line of the song atleast, to where she substituted the words for “something something.”<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRHO3CYETRz44hQY4rU_1e7rlvCAPSsf_v1-sQr5axdCR1MSZVImgRJhE-dmXEgTJ1hD1QjoqTvgune4xOf5LHFQObExJ50V1XORESOs84-vIFWeQvsxy3giR03XetPTRIwJu9esBMwYY/s1600/IMG_3068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRHO3CYETRz44hQY4rU_1e7rlvCAPSsf_v1-sQr5axdCR1MSZVImgRJhE-dmXEgTJ1hD1QjoqTvgune4xOf5LHFQObExJ50V1XORESOs84-vIFWeQvsxy3giR03XetPTRIwJu9esBMwYY/s320/IMG_3068.JPG" width="320" /></a>Boy did Santa turn red. We quickly picked Rudolph instead and tried again. In hindsight, maybe it’s lucky I had taught that song to my students the last 3 years or else I would have forgotten the words too. I’m not sure if everyone wanted me to cut it short, or if they didn’t really remember the words as a couple times I was carrying the song alone. I made loud ‘Ho-Ho-Ho’s as I left out the front door, taking Mazelin’s cookie present for me along.<br />
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Christmas Day was also a lot of fun, this time on the Schoenroth side of the family at my Grandpa’s. From noon to 7 it was a smaller crowd, and we were stuffed from turkey. John and my dad played against my aunt and I in cribbage, where we were thoroughly whipped repeatedly; I think we got skunked twice. In our final game though, when we were tied and needed 6 points to win, we came through with a strong finish to make up for the earlier wounds.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzTCit0QFnLKF_3Z-TmZ4tjvDe3RlawgAW_ls5TQ620zQrHBt4VHamIbvJUjDggEds543bPD3b3FJmk4MI7It1NDDuL7a8_0_gmNsDz_V5T6B-52E_jZ4Jn-HlJq5e89XB-GoTKRiYpTU/s1600/IMG_3080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzTCit0QFnLKF_3Z-TmZ4tjvDe3RlawgAW_ls5TQ620zQrHBt4VHamIbvJUjDggEds543bPD3b3FJmk4MI7It1NDDuL7a8_0_gmNsDz_V5T6B-52E_jZ4Jn-HlJq5e89XB-GoTKRiYpTU/s320/IMG_3080.JPG" width="320" /></a>I got to see even more family, but for many of them it’s been three and a half years since we last got together. I got joking around with my cousin Dale and my brother to a point where we were all crying from laughter. It was quite a fun night in that regard, though a bit odd upon reflection.<br />
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We played our family Christmas grab-bag game, and I came out if it with the board game “Life.” I haven’t played it in years and I’m still a board game nut, I just need to find people to play with. To finish the night, some of the cousins and I played a game called “Things” in the basement; another game I’m itching to add to my collections. But alas, I need to find employment before spending money on entertainment.<br />
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New Years Eve was spent at my sister Melissa’s house. She invited out some people and we started the night with a drinking game. I don’t remember the name of it, but it was quite odd, and I’m just glad we didn’t play ‘Sociables,’ of which the rule sheet was written out and waiting on the table. The game died immediately though, when John added a rule to do 10 pushups at a certain number.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6gooDxOCEcgaXe0uU4IDykYw-ENVsv31RZL7d8HR52hITc7pBHU2FVM2ESN5M1HDMgvUbOi1U1xFGqHo61rYqG1dRJWuEPw0t9lH1AV392GZN_ig3OggOYmgukuoh8tqPgmlGnNTe7So/s1600/IMG_3089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6gooDxOCEcgaXe0uU4IDykYw-ENVsv31RZL7d8HR52hITc7pBHU2FVM2ESN5M1HDMgvUbOi1U1xFGqHo61rYqG1dRJWuEPw0t9lH1AV392GZN_ig3OggOYmgukuoh8tqPgmlGnNTe7So/s320/IMG_3089.JPG" width="320" /></a>There was some Karaoke, a countdown, shots, and music videos, but maybe the highlight was when a friend of John’s decided to go streaking to bring in the New Year. Now it was frozen outside, but he had a bet with some coworkers and apparently won a lot of money for doing it. I don’t think it would be right to post pictures here, but it was pretty awesome.<br />
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So now here it is, 2011. Resolutions? I finished typing this blog days ago, but stumbled on this part. I honestly thought of them one day and wasn’t sure what to make. I guess I’ll continue doing what I’ve been working hard to do for months now: get a job, lose weight, and find a way to be with Ann again.<br />
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"If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change. " -Wayne Dyer <br />
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Happy Holidays ^_^<br />
tnoyTnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-74344149082976191482010-12-27T18:39:00.000-08:002010-12-27T19:17:35.621-08:00Vegas Adventures<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXlLBysXi5_0uqSoUCcVgPis_LNWopEK5LsZqc6Brvcms4JSoRGJh_96mZNNK0qoRLfE30lXkOuOGWWI7tJ5VpvFA_CL8V2cxy2tearedyofaM-ZICfkGI-9lYvEVUb-_wr4QzhS3bnKk/s1600/IMG_3003.JPG"></a>To recap from last time, my friend Lester found round trip tickets and 1 week in a hotel near the strip in Las Vegas for $350. It would be silly to say no, and now I’m extra broke, but I like to think that I like to spend my money on experiences more than material goods. Luckily for me, Lester was on a budget too, so we complimented each other. We bought our tickets Sunday morning on the 20th, and left on Monday the 22nd. As I like to say, I’m flexible and this sounded like a chance of a lifetime.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE-v-VarP-yT16P44ZGzPUF2RNwTpuZ9LfYVf_4_Pu3bgeZIwUSzArVwByXz0fENLbhBGkzcwIuv6bF0UJvdaIRsuwHGM-yIMyDvPnj67ypRc4ETzYTvyMhJYLJgc429B8yLMJR1m4oBw/s320/IMG_2550.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555558611297650274" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>We started our morning nice and early, and sat on the plane while they defrosted the ice covering it. Soon, no more cold eh? We’re off to a desert in the far south after all. Alas, deserts are places of extremes, and I was glad to have brought my jacket and toque. As we flew over the landscape, we passed the Grand Canyon and Hoover Dam; mere teasers at that height, yet still very impressive.
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<br />When you enter the airport, you can tell you’re in a very different place. The terminal is crowded with slot machines, and Lester and I spun a promotional wheel as we arrived, winning less than impressive lint rollers. Surprisingly, “The Strip” as its called, is a quick ride away from the airport. We checked in to the Hooters hotel, where surprisingly, they were advertising a male striptease show. For those who don’t know, “Hooters” is a chain of restaurants probably most famous for their waiting staff of pneumatic women wearing revealing clothes, so their choice of show seemed somewhat contradictory.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkP0Q6FhBNQhinlJJmKKgJkLSYxDeJyMQXJ7ECG22ffN8fcBANe194heEnz-1hmTSsivA_38khyEM_sn5m-QZHkMQs7qtTgfYF_0LHtGonAftulRvRkoSOz4xin6jQpe_Qj1sG0FgNOXA/s320/IMG_2555.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555558898873877586" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>I soon learnt all the hotels have their own stage and shows they play (almost?) nightly. One of our first stops was at a “tix4tonight” stand, where you can buy tickets for shows at a discount. We secured tickets for a Cirque Du Soleil show: “Zoomanity,” and then proceeded to tour around the area. Lots to do, lots to see. Because of the strips’ large scale, you can spend a long time just walking around.
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<br />I didn’t know what to expect, other than Vegas to be a legendary tourist city. However most people had hyped it up to the point, not unlike an over-hyped movie, that set up unrealistic expectations. Sure it’s huge and flashy, but not that much different from my home away from home I’ve lived in for 3 years. I could draw lots of parallels to Japan, from the flashy lights everywhere, to the mobile advertisements circling the strip. At first I was making an interesting mental list like that, but it’s not fair to critique a new place in that fashion.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDraLG8kZed1Z-hsg1IZtYk7U4QNelMRJrbrkGyATkDLrzgJ5F2KQqp4FV8vrx6KFkt6OTBXjl_J942R8-5SduVrEp8YYo9Nto3UUbYJWyAJZUjmwDiQddR49ksBwUmhIgBCco6u3fmLU/s320/IMG_2506.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555557962486635010" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "></span>I kept thinking: if everyone I know likes this place so much, how come they never really visited Japan? In the end, I guess the most glaring answer to that is English and gambling. Though, I was pleasantly surprised by the huge usage of Spanish everywhere. Even fast food workers would switch between the two languages effortlessly, and I ponder how things would be different in Canada if knowing French was a requirement to work a till at a burger joint. I’d assume it is down East, but I’ll have to go there to find out. (Someday friends! Someday…)
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<br />But back to Vegas, we managed to see a couple hotels like the MGM and New York New York. I borrowed my mom’s camera again, but Lester said I probably shouldn’t take photos on the gambling floors. Unfortunately, gambling is the majority of floor space at most places, so I just got shots of surrounding areas.
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<br />What there was to take shots of was absolutely amazing. Exhibits that change with the seasons, like a Botanical Garden that flew in world class pumpkins for their Thanksgiving display. Huge water shows playing every 20 minutes. One place followed up a song and dance with floating boats and displays suspended from the roof, where attractive people danced and threw down beads to anyone cheering.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiSCBQVznF-8ssOOGPIQGhUSUu5hSPX8flWplQiW41uaY_6-XHXlWnHWZ2ts5eiwL0gWW3Swatu1gLXtSZ7CbSVSf7fNZ2qJSZJcmU3lDb-eC2HV4NVcEdfzVBnOLC6HTrCpHgp1NEy4I/s320/IMG_2560.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555559115483042578" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>On our first walk, we secured a large pack of beer, bringing its price down to around $1 a can. There were a couple nights where we’d relax after a long day of walking the strip by sitting in the hot tub and drinking those cheap, frosty beverages. Most of the time we were alone, as all the locals considered it to be super cold outside, but we were happy not to be surrounded by a meter of snow like in Saskatchewan.
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<br />Up and down the strip are various cosplayers (like Akihabara in Japan) posing for pictures in various outfits like Elvis naturally, Homer Simpson, Pirates of the Caribbean, and other famous American cultural icons. One act we passed was a girl in a tutu and thong, trying to escape a straight jacket, even though it meant rolling around on the cold, dirty sidewalk to do so. Other performers would be doing balancing or juggling acts and so on.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzQeuzRvGZ0_PU1EiaXMa-sDxh8eiBeLzEwNZrw61u_VOVa6EZdt0Adh5a8v2YidG_fCx8uHBEGae6U54YasG4exIp46bJwrfEOsXXXQnC9lJG8QT7xN4UdRuklIc8l5LBxrIYRA3ZxxM/s320/IMG_2570.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555559300496389954" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>I definitely like the feel of the city, especially at night. I liked the oversized, almost cartoon-inspired looking hotels and their themes: a giant pyramid called the ‘Luxor’, a medieval castle called ‘Excalibur,’ a Greek inspired ‘Caesar’s Palace’ and an Italian inspired ‘Venetian’ among others. You can tell a lot of money is spent here, from just how beautiful a lot of things are, as I’m sure they’re constantly maintained if not fully renovated like that botanical garden frequently.
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<br />Yikes, 2 pages in and I didn’t finish talking about our first night. We watched Zoomanity, which is a “sensual” show, and very amusing. The acrobatics were phenomenal, and the show was fulfilling while leaving you wanting more. One of the highlights I thought was early in the show when 2 girls swam around and flipped into a large fish bowl. The schoolgirl with the hoola hoops was pretty neat too.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-lGFxa9GyWKz69rwuihpeTgBWETK6YNwaSMA_nG5J412E6mLL5xAt8YnSJ_QJGcR7raLuGZAHbDSYb8szQxPdYqdJARRovkGZabcNRq48QWbxCWrcgTm53TzoRkLeFp0LSfUXWUAkhY/s320/IMG_2582.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555559690583315986" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>In all, this was an excellent introduction to Cirque Du Soleil for me, and I was hungry for more. I was lucky enough to watch another show, this one named “Ka” later in the week. This show was a lot more serious, and the stunts were a lot more impressive. The stage and the theater itself is a marvel. I had a loose understanding of the story however, but perhaps what I was watching is ‘high art’ for all I know.
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<br />I heard “O” is perhaps the best Cirque Du Soleil show, but maybe because of that, I couldn’t procure cheap tickets like all the other shows. I was on a budget after all, and I’m sure I’ll probably be back to Vegas someday.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzSSwOihOYlAlEDd8wT8Jlt4pV9nwdRoHOjswv0cGH5mdPgjZDU0-znJDAkG3ZwxNQfM-IbPfsvlONutMvO_-9cIezu-5pjPONOusK926FToQ7cEJd27FhdlORQqpjH3A5lm6llvJOvHw/s320/IMG_2575.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555559985283049042" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>Most of our nights weren’t very late, which I found odd considering it to be the “City that Never Sleeps”, but I appreciated the rest from all the walking we did. That first day was a killer naturally, but Lester and I did pretty well after that. On the second day we bought tour tickets for the Grand Canyon and the Hoover dam. We spent the afternoon in the hot tub drinking, and spent the night walking the strip again.
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<br />We had hoped to save money after spending so much on the tours, that we tried to see some of the many free shows they have playing. Unfortunately for us, most of those shows are outdoors and it was an oddly windy night, cancelling many things. We still covered a lot of ground though, walking in and around various casinos and hotels, as you can see pictured all over this blog.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYi8zrdwl5_UZAzqMb-3cdTV0pDYtKPechN6RIHeo-ViTNvTkK5-RfUdpDKAW_n_zdYXOXmEa437WOHxm9JIvz_b_pcXaIoYd4S3UpFFQ1mR-MpvlCPl_HEMB9Z7HlcpDiuH8YtHARs_s/s320/IMG_2639.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555560501008884594" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>We got up early Wednesday and headed out to the Grand Canyon. The tour bus driver was a very political girl, and listening to her talk was like being in church as depicted in many southern African American movies I had seen. Until then I thought it was interesting, but now I was getting the full cultural experience. At first it was really cool, but after an hour or two it got annoying with the constant politics, and many people on the bus vocally agreeing or disagreeing with every 2 words she said.
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<br />Luckily after a couple hours she put on a documentary of the Hoover Dam first, then later of the Grand Canyon. We had quickly stopped there earlier for pictures, but it was a long trip to the Canyon so we had time. When we did arrive and walked out to it, it was like walking to the edge of the world. The ground falls down sharply, and out into the void… was a blizzard.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicO0wPDFzoDMkEGSp5408Sg5V8bYcEpZr5TeiGq55jGTbtY42mpKJGGKOeeYRT-V6akHCsyN4bxkg20nBbw7yXWokgdLvsJkCyESNg48WO-vf6I1cpFgbWKHczsMoQbxviGBiavRm4iXc/s320/IMG_2664.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555560808498015298" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>Just our Canadian luck, it was snowing. It hadn’t snowed in the Canyon since 1992, so looking at it another way… we were lucky? It was really interesting seeing the canyon on one side, then seeing some tanned tourists on the other completely ignoring it, taking pictures of themselves instead holding up a tiny clump of snow near their face. I guess like Ann, they hadn’t seen snow before, so why not eh?
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<br />One thing I love is the word “Canada” because it’s a simple enough word to pick up in any language. Lester was walking around the snow in his shorts, and some Chinese tourists were laughing and talking up a storm. Of course, the only word I understood from them was “Canada” but I still wondered a bit how they knew where we were from ;)
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6i8oVfBQ1kyE0Fm8UX49dITlD46RX-NIZ82G4_DOixRm42HEXoSPVfu-I5KJwQyEy76hIN0mQXr8AmXWh39pspA4BcMw0ppKvVxJICVDlb86AYJFgVijhmO_oHY2H7jTB5BE20pCrZDM/s320/IMG_2687.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555561208923669762" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>Luckily we had 3 hours, which went by way too fast, and the blizzard cleared up enough to see more of the canyon. Lester’s camera is much better than mine for piercing the white haze, so my pictures didn’t really turn out. The place looks a lot better in person anyways. If you have trouble fitting things in a picture frame, the Canyon is hard to fit in your eye frame. It was just so big, that I couldn’t see as much of it at once as I was trying to. It was everywhere, and it was massive. Words don’t do this place justice.
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<br />We spent hours soaking up the atmosphere, while keeping an eye on the time. It takes a while to absorb what you’re looking at, and it’s very humbling. I definitely want to come back again sometime, and when I do, I want to go white water rafting down it.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgatHBY_OJb05gkRnJoW5ZD5mZMJQzB8_quT3RT1tbqua9FLeB85RRym54YUDh2l6k6Xnj98PiHVyJL_ynhgU8Z5bsAghxwDOdPKShX-v6iWVTTsBb-Fs-bEMkt9sG3yB_80PMf149pFgo/s320/IMG_2711.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555561709619053922" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>Well, back on the bus watching Hollywood movies for the long haul back. A Chinese lady didn’t have very good English and missed her ride home unfortunately. The landscape is expansive and bleak out in the desert, but I’m glad I got to see this as opposed to all the other stereotypical desert you usually see, for example in Egypt. This was more like what you’d see Wile-E-Coyote running around in.
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<br />Now it was Thursday, and we celebrated American Thanksgiving through a Turkey buffet at the hotel. We had a lot of good meals in Vegas, including an all-day buffet for $25. We only went twice because of how much we ate though we were free to come and go all day and the second time I only was able to see one isle of food before I was full, missing a whole separate isle of food.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV1fEGD7bXub3xkjS8o1bIUoo9aXJFiuF0MvkR6u4vbvFYdVEE8bYfbuBFy3Pf5vhKhxvMyiTsXsIsZjpkVaLjoSZRoDsOSNotJZ4xFcUfwLBvrSK5BndaGPCI28AwRkGty0SU-X-BGTw/s320/IMG_2763.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555562144851528402" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>It was a slow day of recouping and digesting turkey, but we saw another show, Penn & Teller that night. I’ve always been a fan, though I haven’t seen as many episodes of their TV show, ‘bullshit’, as I would have liked. I really enjoyed it anyways, and am happy those guys do the work that they do: things like speaking out for civil liberties, and exposing frauds who prey on the vulnerable.
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<br />Now it was Friday, or the American Cultural Phenomenon better known as “Black Friday.” It was pure coincidence our trip worked out this way, and we definitely saw a spike in traffic on the strip during the Thanksgiving holiday; with one rumor I overheard being over 250,000 people came in. For those who don’t know, “Black Friday” is the day after Thanksgiving, and the ‘first’ day of Christmas shopping. Many stores go out of their way with huge deals and what not, making the event as anticipated and crowded as Canadian Boxing Day.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwm5HuaATJSeOX62JiKRgQ_DmNvdFNiBV614YuOTRm5amahWocPQd8W_Ul4P204yV7J-VqS-v6_X9nNpOc-Mr4tcVdxZkpZ6w7VlgCT1ramLTddD9j9SykFd4asHuxg7GAo87B-ARdo6k/s320/IMG_2796.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555562830274678210" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>We spent the morning at the Premium Outlet Mall where I got most of my Christmas presents for the year. To give an example of the sales, one store we walked into was 50% off, then 10% off that, then 15% off that. Almost 75% off everything in the store basically (key word being basically) and since that was confusing, they had charts posted around the store telling you about how much items were worth. As an example, I got a $150 coat for around $60.
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<br />In the Afternoon we went to an Electronics shop that was even more crowded and crazy than the many outlet malls. I’m used to big crowds because of where I lived the last 3 years, but it didn’t make the outing any less stressful. I was thinking of getting a camera to replace my lost one, but oddly electronics usually aren’t discounted as much as clothing or other items.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnxZFNp7yakrYPxqnNK6N-0OmPuYIeVjKoziH3wchvzEe0UrVALlB4LPHN2JzczIUL7qUlf_AMrL8CrJG-jUY6pOe4bjFxQASi5PbBQn66ZkR3DZGFj92hcY3uzBQWcFWZNPPlAPF12YU/s320/IMG_2820.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555563183618383154" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>To unwind that night we watched Carrot Top do some comedy at the Luxor. I was amazed the hotel, although pyramid shaped, was hollow on the inside. Despite his bad commercials, he was quite hilarious and we had a great time again. At the Luxor they had other displays like human bodies cased in glass, and Titanic salvage on display. I didn’t have time to go see, and it was kinda pricey, but maybe next time.
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<br />On Saturday we went to the Hoover Dam for a tour. The scale of this place, again, is just awesome; 50ft diameter overflow-tunnels among other crazy things. We were able to go into the turbine room, and interestingly enough, most of them were turned off. Apparently there has been a severe drought the last 20 years and the water levels are at a record low. Soon the Federal Government may step in, as the dam’s main purpose is providing water, not power.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1BwU-qeZDOwMF_UwefhoyhyphenhyphenV1nDmu6ERxsLqZFMzijaIQdoT9HhE7xLdgnvVFF6yDvbwqET-dEP-agIQhxeGEsx_jNUXsmXg9T2RDXwpxFVFcChNl8LBb5-8O0sRl6gwOmOOoBmS91hw/s320/IMG_2859.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555563825120770418" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>Even though we had 3 hours to lounge around again, it went by too fast. We walked along the top and got a bit of vertigo looking over the massive sides, as both were high up. You could see the “bathtub rim” where the water is suppose to rise up to far removed from the actual water line. The dam stretches across the Nevada/Arizona boarder and time zone; so two different clocks are displayed accordingly. It is such an amazing place with lots to take in, especially with that huge new bypass bridge that recently opened.
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<br />Like tours in Thailand and so on, the bus stopped at a tourist trap gift shop. This time it was an overpriced chocolate factory, but the samples were tasty. We got back into town and I called my friend Ike, who I haven’t seen since we left Japan together, as he was in town for his stag party.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB6GOGNQ7W35a4yhqV4aGQHIbbV1ncJxjtVbYgWAvhRLdEemDTHpTJn05GX1M4Rq9QKPivWHEYztLRWfQvylUekbhWAlWbLJE_OJo1ne_pYekck_DvA1_tUvQzkxLsqDo3gQcXG5eLJM8/s320/IMG_2882.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555564312070613202" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>It’s an amazing life we had before cell phones, as he didn’t have a way to reach me. I went to his hotel where he was waiting for me, and called him from the front desk. In all, we were only able to hang out for an hour, but I got him that lovely duty-free alcohol from the airport as a gift.
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<br />We played a bit of “texas hold’em”, but what a terrible game they made out of it. I had to watch for over 30 minutes before I figured how the betting worked on the table, and when I did play, 3 hands and 3 folds later I was out $30. I guess it was an experience, but it’s like they’re not even pretending that you have a chance to win money in Vegas anymore it was that bad.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrmUOjacNevmYZ-cBAUPm_AiRHBL7UQNuf-Pw8je8CJKguBwXr1n-wHTlGbwcc3uMVZXx0ofPVLOY44yzHiUKxG9rYNcJYTYiGDWtrIJbARbz2wfAVUqrcP38Tbq_zWhcOEGZOUQcyW4/s320/IMG_2916.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555564720097161410" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>I suppose the recession is bad and those big hotels don’t pay for themselves, but still. For the most part I stayed away from the gambling, and the longest I went was about ½ hour at a $3 blackjack table at our hotel. The only upside is that the drinks are free, but if you’re losing that much money it’s not really worth it. I remember Lester put $20 in a slot machine, and slowly would press the ‘spin’ button.
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<br />When I asked why he was taking his time, he responded ‘to try and make it last longer’. Even spinning slowly at a 25 cent machine, $20 only buys you around 2 minutes of ‘entertainment’, if that. Normally I hate slot machines completely, but Lester put the idea in my head that “you can play blackjack all day and maybe come out $100 up, but on the slots all it takes is one spin.” I ended up trying some with him, but naturally, lost everything in minutes so I didn’t play much.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuhJGy9IZwtAYh6EIhD9EBwi0oMHHCvX8JknipPgPLviXRYow-CLwIENFv8zttuzzH57w2KOCqePlI9b1bJatWuCv7CaGhH7EVSQbxiEiDzSlJb7sIC3amlCLpar5LmKl1OKr8DB9QPJE/s320/IMG_2964.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555565649467299810" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>Anyways, I had to leave Ike because I was seeing that ‘Ka’ show while Lester was off seeing an Elvis Cirque Du Soleil as he saw ‘Ka’ already. I had a feeling it was tailored more towards Elvis fans so I wasn’t interested. Anyways, I was hoping to meet up with Ike after his show was done around midnight, as he had to leave early in the morning. I had Hooter’s wings with Les for supper, bided my time in my room, and before I knew it I woke up after 1 in the morning in my clothes. Sorry Ike, I’ll have to catch up with you next time :( I hope the wedding goes great! Again, Congratulations!
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<br />Sunday, lazy Sunday. We did some shopping at the “Bass Pro Shop” and ate at a “Jack in the Box” fast food place. Whenever I saw a fast food place in the states, I couldn’t help but feel annoyed at how much Canadians are getting ripped off at their fast food joints. It’s unfortunate really.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhef3M4y5uDuSP0bK4f5MZM9Mzsq4mv5L5nqky23Owx9DlOIZYvDBgqKkOqgc2TOC6VVs53ruHaSzUcHukR9boo-RFSHGLkQYovo66o7Ke_gkbY7z-9F17LqsCpERTD1t6-ZBiVbx666ro/s320/IMG_2977.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555565988446296210" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>After some more shopping we went back to the strip and found a Nascar Café place, of which Lester is a growing enthusiast; he was telling me some tidbits from his large book: “Nascar for Dummies” and I was humbled how much was involved in a seemingly simple sport. Anyways, it was Lester’s birthday the next day when our plane left, and it was our last night, so it was time to let loose and party.
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<br />After racing the simulation cars for a couple hours, I was usually a clear champion. We ate food at an adjacent sports bar advertising “every sport all the time.” Imagine our disappointment then, when we couldn’t find the Grey Cup game playing (Canada’s Football Championship). This, despite being able to take bets on the game with terrible odds too. For example, you’d have to bet $100 to win $10 if your team won (either team). Who takes those odds? Is that even legal? Ridiculous.
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<br />We did in fact find the game on channel 500 something, but they weren’t subscribed, so we relied on Lester’s friend text messaging him updates. The main draw to this place was their huge burrito where you can <a href="http://b3burrito.com/">watch people trying to eat it on a live webcam</a>, and the monster beer tube that fit a gallon. I was surprised at how Lester was putting his drinks away, and I tried to keep up with him. 5 minutes in and the first one was 1/2 empty.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia_Dswq_QMZKDgntCvQKYgglCjBoHzi74yiF1TlFfEti7SVqbHe-W4_rS-YW1ZjuZa2UuFgv5ZtRJf2NS2x0w1wqEUQ_R5uwic8MRGwpgdtregMtpdtoHuGBk2Xl0J6-1faOkdq38UdkM/s320/IMG_2993.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555566463938401762" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>The huge burrito challenge is 6 pounds, but I grabbed the 1-pound variant and had trouble finishing that. After, we raced the Nascars simulators some more and this time Lester kicked my butt each time. I’m not sure if that makes him a ‘real’ winner though, as he just drives drunk better I guess.
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<br />After we had more time to kill before our last show started, so we split another gallon of beer. The show this time was called “Striptease” in honour of our last night and his b-day. The main performer was some “Pet of the Year” from Hustler magazine on the December cover, so after the show Lester bought a copy in commemoration. Although he tried to silence me, I still pointed him out when the girls made their rounds so he got a Birthday gift: some special attention from the performer. I think he was reluctant to attend that show, but that made up for everything.
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<br />After the show we were drunk and exchanged our ticket/voucher for chips, where we hit the roulette table and I was up a good amount by hitting lucky on number 33. That luck didn’t last long though, and I walked away with most of those chips I think, though it was a bit of a haze.
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<br /><meta charset="utf-8"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXlLBysXi5_0uqSoUCcVgPis_LNWopEK5LsZqc6Brvcms4JSoRGJh_96mZNNK0qoRLfE30lXkOuOGWWI7tJ5VpvFA_CL8V2cxy2tearedyofaM-ZICfkGI-9lYvEVUb-_wr4QzhS3bnKk/s320/IMG_3003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555566884306589122" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span>It was fun, but we weren’t up too late and a bit hung-over in the morning. Our plane left in the afternoon, so we took a stroll around the strip as a way to say farewell to this great time. I don’t think we did too much, and were back in Regina by that night.
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<br />I know this feels rushed, but it’s way too long for a normal update, and I wrote over half of it a week or two ago. Anyways, I was hoping to get in one big road trip before working again, and this was a great time. I apologize to all the friends I have across this continent, and hope I can visit them next time. I hope to have a December update before the year closes. In the meantime, Merry Christmas ^_^
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<br />"Your only limitations are those you set up in your mind, or permit others to set up for you." -Og Mandino
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<br />tnoyTnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-43345063719754831892010-11-30T16:25:00.000-08:002010-11-30T16:47:02.645-08:00November November<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6OnDesXVaL2-uMwTKB37MG8LDqHE_JcGFY0kBrOJY3rN0SB6o-CukpfIwUst41YIzfpkBv4ufZOdUFFu64SjzmPOPQhCLUjV963ZdwnlyqBoKKsgKZtIKWQ-_LAYGkMpopqrVCPUOHzs/s1600/IMG_2484.JPG"></a><p class="MsoNormal">It’s been a good month, despite the excess snow and ice accumulating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The snow pile on the side of the driveway tells a tale of a longer winter ahead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was able to enjoy a nice walk with my Mom and sister Melissa, during one of the lulls of the snow pounding. When contrasted with a colour other than white, it really is beautiful, and I'm glad I can use my mom's camera to take pictures while my other one remains suspended in limbo. A couple days will be white, and a couple days will be spring weather.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’ll take what I can get, and it’s beautiful while it lasts.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6gFet-fnuWW5WLn2jQtWXhFYSunkx_Gg8Z-mxzRR3EYYbpgaARL41lWD6uj08vbOseskn0gCZx7zrk0GlYmc2tO3eaRg0f6cp9WsvWkOJjarwRq1PeGzrvQMQpGsNtC6ANVGmO0OwFfE/s320/IMG_2387.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545504976042057650" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /><p class="MsoNormal">Melissa had a medical in Moose Jaw one day, so it was my first Saskatchewan road trip since I’ve been back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a nice little day out at the airbase where we saw the Snow Birds practicing.</p><meta charset="utf-8"><p class="MsoNormal">Later on we did some shopping in town but didn’t stay too long once Melissa was happy with her new clothes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She half jokes that she needs to be at work to save money where she doesn’t even buy lunch.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsqO_MHJYmhI2IwWdybishdTFAbGZtmMavHwjmde6pmA2KknTBJN6H3fGl0dlQjA5j_qeaNRHzE_GwZXfiHm7dGr4Yvc4Ea2ZMU1G8eKpj309IU-zPjwMD8a131wKeRKKi4GrNmAQr-o/s320/IMG_2401.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545505608842976242" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /><p class="MsoNormal">For the most part I’m happy to just spend time with others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Usually if I call Melissa up to do anything it will have to be watching TV or a movie, so I’m enthusiastic should alternative excursions arise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One night she was over, and I just decided to make some Peanut Butter cookies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It only took an hour and was quite tasty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s easy, so why not eh?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You can have chats on the side while you do it, whereas the TV is a sedative generally.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_GLD6sVlc3yRBzcq0Rt8kG3e_6oBV7OxJbzE5PnYn58D8BgNawYoTomaa9lCELAbJqW8YYH7ulml4J8awBVSxZw4BJ1vMBl8RFeyMzlEYquskWCRdX-fIoL72UexCggjdZ1MPo9YS3M/s320/IMG_2432.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545505988214195186" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /><p class="MsoNormal">I call Ann quite a bit, and I can sense things are getting tough on her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m on vacation while she’s working hard, and really just waiting to see what I’m going to do before we can be together again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s been about 6 months since we’ve seen each other. She's doing well though, though she told me recently she works 7 days a week with 2 jobs at the moment; it can be a tough life in Thailand.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Come Nov 11<sup>th</sup>, Remembrance Day, we went to Regina’s central park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Melissa was in her Navy uniform, and I was early enough to get a good spot to stand and watch the proceedings.</p><meta charset="utf-8"><p class="MsoNormal">I was a bit surprised how many Christian references and prayers were made, given how the people who fought and died were most likely of many different backgrounds, but that’s the way it goes around here I guess. I was happy there were many people out there braving to cold to give thanks to those who have fallen. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSzorBFMheKMZTmEhKoL8P2HKH-NIHOr0Or8OZICjHClNHL0SUEpzAVRXmHACtHNCK4coOKTdp7V0Rx_OtaVgQknACSgn1kgUlgVlgHhscYmcD1jYRLpDtZA30WvlyyeJyyARozMQBJr4/s320/IMG_2460.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545506891174377282" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /><p class="MsoNormal">I saw a Universityof Regina hockey game with my friend Ken at the renovated Agribition area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There were many hockey rinks, and many more Canadians drinking beer and watching the proceedings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a cultural event and fairly entertaining even if our team lost.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was a good time to visit the Schoenroth side of the family this month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>For the first time since I’ve been back, there was a birthday gathering as I had been looking forward to; a chance to catch up with some of my huge family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>What struck me right away were all the children suddenly running around where there really hasn’t been since I was little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>More disturbing than that, I didn’t really know any of them.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKG4gYWZbxCbawxlrhCW5m-AKMbmdCRqz4aQZcJJLYP-JD6J59N_Wlx9ngMGoMO6Ip_mYi5CkY4XJ7rYvpwEzwjguhLh6SE3kTYy_cVFc7hp9VTaavUDC-MtLD6TuRoUKNlPamEOYH7M0/s320/IMG_2450.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545507497113222194" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; " /><p class="MsoNormal">It was one of those weird moments of realization that my childhood generation has come and gone, had their chance to run around under tables and lick the icing off candles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was great, but now I can’t help but feel I was one of those “boring” adults that just talked about stuff instead of running around and playing games.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Luckily not all is lost though; my friend Baden and I were visiting in the basement in-between games of make-belief gunfights with kids that were shooting up the place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was as fun as ever, even if we never really got off the couch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My brother John came down to join us later, but he was too ‘mature’ to play along.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>That’s ok, more fun for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I think I’m a lot better with kids now, after having taught them for years.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Before all that, I made an effort to go from room to room, person to person, and try to touch base again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Everyone is as lively as I remember, and catching up was as easy as it was enjoyable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’ve been warned by people coming back not to get upset when you get asked “how was Japan?” over and over, as there is no way to sum up 3 years of your life in a 3 worded question.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu6lwYWJ-Au-O6NQ_GulE5Hk-H4FZYs_tMk4aaTLw26F4zrm8qmawrmpps9FLzIt6hD_wstxEqJBUC7GW0J2zTPbG-BaZozzfstbf4tOdZTm_LUIiUQYSc_QLl6xO3iGAUwK60Prl9H6E/s320/IMG_2467.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545508046841614242" style="float: right; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /><p class="MsoNormal">No, if someone was interested in knowing something, they asked a great question, which I’d try to follow up with a great story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I feel like I’m full of those now, as I feel I’ve lived a lifetime of adventure in those short years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s not like I want to talk about myself for hours either and if I try, as I’ve learnt, I’ll lose my voice after a while.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I usually like to hear other people’s stories more than I like telling my own, and like Larry King said: "I never learned anything while I was talking." </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The time went fast at the party of course, but luckily it was followed up with another one not long later: my dad’s 60<sup>th</sup> birthday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He made a Turkey feast and it was nice to go and see the old farmhouse again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There was more cake, more family, more laughter to be enjoyed by all. Happy Birthday Dad.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6OnDesXVaL2-uMwTKB37MG8LDqHE_JcGFY0kBrOJY3rN0SB6o-CukpfIwUst41YIzfpkBv4ufZOdUFFu64SjzmPOPQhCLUjV963ZdwnlyqBoKKsgKZtIKWQ-_LAYGkMpopqrVCPUOHzs/s320/IMG_2484.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545508248691286242" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /><p class="MsoNormal">That morning the same day however my buddy Lester asked me: “Hey, want to go to Las Vegas for a week?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He found round trip airfare, including hotel accommodation on the strip for 1 week for $380 after taxes (and me putting in for extra health insurance; I’ve heard too many horror stories about the American Health System to take a chance).</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I know I didn’t want to go on a potentially pricey holiday before I had a job, but what a deal eh?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Some of my friends told me they would be angry with me if I said ‘no’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So for next time, look forward to some Vegas stories ^_^</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">"When you talk, you repeat what you already know; when you listen, you often learn something." -Jared Sparks</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">(I know this quote is almost identical to the Larry King one earlier, but it’s just as good)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">tnoy</p> <!--EndFragment-->Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-59100592652213133012010-10-31T13:17:00.000-07:002010-10-31T13:31:11.144-07:00Incongruent Ramblings and HalloweenWhile I’m not as busy as I had been previously, time is still whizzing by quite fast.<span style=""> </span>I’m putting a little effort into job hunting, though not overly.<span style=""> </span>It was funny when I met one of my sister’s friends a couple weeks back and they asked me what I do.<span style=""> </span>When I answered, “I’m unemployed” they stuttered a bit before being lost for something <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPiewvyyZO5Le_BxSXNMkP5dHlvgPT2UdI4PP2Qh1hT12l4-6liV1a81OuuX0nYKKyYFGVacgdA7IevuiMZ6cAKV4BA9785RR7P_pGywTocN4-6h0TSIiZ2hIlcP3rKDuThPaJ1PAW2E/s1600/IMG_2339.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPiewvyyZO5Le_BxSXNMkP5dHlvgPT2UdI4PP2Qh1hT12l4-6liV1a81OuuX0nYKKyYFGVacgdA7IevuiMZ6cAKV4BA9785RR7P_pGywTocN4-6h0TSIiZ2hIlcP3rKDuThPaJ1PAW2E/s320/IMG_2339.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534307855921528834" border="0" /></a>to say.<span style=""> </span>I guess that’s pretty uncommon, but I suppose I didn’t help the conversation much with such a simple answer, followed by a smile and a ‘peace’ sign.<br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ve been reading books, sleeping in, and playing games a lot.<span style=""> </span>Though, it seems I spend more time installing and tweaking/modding games than playing them now; I suppose video games are largely becoming a thing of the past to me.<span style=""> </span>It’s an expensive hobby really, so I mostly get older/cheaper games that are still good.<span style=""> </span>I do have some savings, but not extensive, and I’m reluctant to spend it without knowing when/where my next paycheck will come from.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Regina is a city, situated in a place, where outside spending times with friends and family, you’re going to need money to do anything slightly entertaining.<span style=""> </span>I’ve persuaded<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsUefZRoQ3d3Eo1k_IGEArOGHpmhxT6nHYCGiZH4VNdsBYMjApRblk2jC5RpHEBDLnsDfJ1UH0295nBZyzOxqzhXBwG9WDOcIJSwupyTPNi5E-18Yy7QQJHdM7v0_ZFCGOyjTa0ZXY47w/s1600/IMG_2349.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsUefZRoQ3d3Eo1k_IGEArOGHpmhxT6nHYCGiZH4VNdsBYMjApRblk2jC5RpHEBDLnsDfJ1UH0295nBZyzOxqzhXBwG9WDOcIJSwupyTPNi5E-18Yy7QQJHdM7v0_ZFCGOyjTa0ZXY47w/s320/IMG_2349.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534307468593634930" border="0" /></a> several family members to go on road trips, or play games together largely in vain.<span style=""> </span>That’s not to say I’m not having fun, and we aren’t having good times together, but I’m starting to hunger for more excitement and adventures again.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My camera is still lost and I still haven’t bought a replacement; I figure I’ll hold off until a large event to give it time to show up somewhere.<span style=""> </span>Though hope for finding it, along with those games I misplaced (?) somewhere in Japan is dwindling.<span style=""> </span>I’ve been using Mom’s camera a bit, so atleast I can show you some pictures even if I don’t have many new ones. These early pics are the leaf covered beach my brother John and I visited.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ve written this post over several days making it disjointed, but now it’s Halloween and I’d like to put it up before November rolls over.<span style=""> </span>I went to Chris’ place yesterday where we carved pumpkins.<span style=""> </span>It was a great idea and I’m very proud of my “One Piece” pumpkin.<span style=""> </span>They made an impressive one as well of “puss in boots”; that cat from Shrek.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">John is a crazy brother as always, betting money on football games now.<span style=""> </span>I watched the game with him last week, mostly because he was cheering against the Roughriders; <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZNipuGhVdx8s_2P3ikHukx7VkL7IzeYKsttRWBCCv7aarxu_J_PFSvNDKpTF5hJxmUAegRkLYLd7_yeXEMr-597O8U25gN6wHuJ7Pe3BXntki9xJli1pnOgRkewTbqAO7YdIdSQ4at9A/s1600/IMG_2368.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZNipuGhVdx8s_2P3ikHukx7VkL7IzeYKsttRWBCCv7aarxu_J_PFSvNDKpTF5hJxmUAegRkLYLd7_yeXEMr-597O8U25gN6wHuJ7Pe3BXntki9xJli1pnOgRkewTbqAO7YdIdSQ4at9A/s320/IMG_2368.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534308317801414930" border="0" /></a>something I needed to see to believe.<span style=""> </span>Sure enough, they were terrible and lost, so we were glad to be cheering against them, and he won over $100 on his ticket.<span style=""> </span>Before I went home, he had another ticket ready to go for some NFL picks even though he didn’t really know anything about the league.<span style=""> </span>As long as he’s enjoying himself I suppose, I know he’s smarter than becoming a reckless gambler.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">We got a ton of snow in Saskatchewan this week, and I spent almost 3 hours shoveling it on Thursday maybe.<span style=""> </span>I figure I moved a couple tons of wet snow, and the next day my entire back was stiff so I moved and sounded like an old man.<span style=""> </span>I’m much better now, and a lot of the snow has melted since then, but it was a good workout eh?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">My Aunt had a steak night fundraiser, which coincidentally <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FWqYKYCh_v2L4xm6NnnByaYPbEJ-V41QaFZcsR9Pf6XOX_g6K2VQTzvfS0WOtDjyXP02aLxv1u6BPKj_887LWEId2ewyVI_mDX18gPIVBfoU5wV7frGd8WPmOOEyXAm1AlOU8gJEvYQ/s1600/IMG_2378.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0FWqYKYCh_v2L4xm6NnnByaYPbEJ-V41QaFZcsR9Pf6XOX_g6K2VQTzvfS0WOtDjyXP02aLxv1u6BPKj_887LWEId2ewyVI_mDX18gPIVBfoU5wV7frGd8WPmOOEyXAm1AlOU8gJEvYQ/s320/IMG_2378.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534308463617659778" border="0" /></a>felt like a mini family reunion.<span style=""> </span>I saw many folks that not only hadn’t seen me in years, but also didn’t even know I was home.<span style=""> </span>I suggested to many of them we should have a large family gathering to get reacquainted, but everyone seems to be waiting for Christmas for that.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I half expected to be gone by October already, and here it’s November.<span style=""> </span>It’s looking like yes, maybe I will be here for Christmas.<span style=""> </span>Perhaps it’s time I started to get more serious about finding employment and stop enjoying my daily vacation so much. It was a good feeling finally updating my blog again; it feels more like something I want to do, and less of a chore now :) Perhaps I can try to be more frequent than once a month.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"> <style>@font-face { font-family: "Cambria"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> </p><p class="MsoNormal">"The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing." -Walt Disney<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">tnoy<br /></p> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p>Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-4793700580209805122010-09-30T19:00:00.000-07:002010-09-30T19:13:45.081-07:00Endless Holiday in ReginaI haven’t really wanted to update while relaxing, but it’s almost October already, and if I don’t post anything in September that would be pretty embarrassing.<span style=""> </span>Patty called me up the other day to see if I made any “life goals” yet, and while they are there, have been pending due to holiday. <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Speaking <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gi6io4N1vRlhAo5LBkfretiPA0z9JjzqXXjhDx6wyMKn9uzh7TuseN7J1ELO2M_ZpwAb5cHVV1PpzPXhC65QjrmPNL4PIAd8aNIX9uKq9UsIhBjuiLt_1Jw_h9LiL9OHBopwv6JHixc/s1600/IMG_2895.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gi6io4N1vRlhAo5LBkfretiPA0z9JjzqXXjhDx6wyMKn9uzh7TuseN7J1ELO2M_ZpwAb5cHVV1PpzPXhC65QjrmPNL4PIAd8aNIX9uKq9UsIhBjuiLt_1Jw_h9LiL9OHBopwv6JHixc/s320/IMG_2895.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522892843042602962" border="0" /></a>of which, I guess I should mention Victoria as I left off there last time.<span style=""> </span>We made a grand list of things to do, but only touched a couple of them.<span style=""> </span>Patty saved up holidays for years and works way too hard, so the first day or two was spent sleeping in and catching up.<span style=""> </span>I got to meet her awesome boyfriend who cooked, and gave me beer frequently.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Probably the highlight of the trip was when we went zip lining.<span style=""> </span>It was amazing swinging around the trees and putting your life to little metal wheels rolling on a cable suspended high off the ground.<span style=""> </span>I took a video on one of my trips and really enjoyed the whole thing.<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyZDGX_awDHcxpH5gcvrWRWeAMXv7EKjXbwQKeO6b-quOaxcfsalf9nfD5KEXtC_omJ73KnypsY_1S6dRCh4w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">We did a lot despite there being things we couldn’t do.<span style=""> </span>There was a campfire ban due to how dry everything was.<span style=""> </span>Huge fires were raging in B.C. that made it to Regina even.<span style=""> </span>Another awesome thing we did was visiting a nearby observatory with a huge telescope.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I wasn’t there very long, maybe 4 or 5 days.<span style=""> </span>I’ve been in Regina ever since, visiting many different friends and family.<span style=""> </span>There may be many people I haven’t seen yet, though the number was much higher than I thought it would be.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ve been eating pizza and buffalo wings frequently, and having Canadian beer.<span style=""> </span>With my friend Lester, we went mini golfing.<span style=""> </span>With my friend Matt, we’ve played some Dungeons and Dragons.<span style=""> </span>With my friend <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcDAlYjHe5MKtYkKgSzIKviMsBZ6U2UyEBZSQf6oIhjzKydYmKfkFOBy7BQHocvM1EomSsGL4NcREHOoG5lyxdgvWhMIg4FxZ2LwwtVv20R5WpTKFvObVEDQdDnPGVnzeLDEVD64URxLk/s1600/IMG_2871.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcDAlYjHe5MKtYkKgSzIKviMsBZ6U2UyEBZSQf6oIhjzKydYmKfkFOBy7BQHocvM1EomSsGL4NcREHOoG5lyxdgvWhMIg4FxZ2LwwtVv20R5WpTKFvObVEDQdDnPGVnzeLDEVD64URxLk/s320/IMG_2871.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522895011223170642" border="0" /></a>Chris, we played a board game after some amazing food.<span style=""> </span>The majority of August was spent simply meeting people and visiting for hours on end; a couple times I visited my Grandparents, showing them pictures and talking until I lost my voice.<span style=""> </span>I had a night at my mom’s too, when people came over for food and pictures after.<span style=""> </span>Noriko came from Japan and visited for almost a week as well.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Things have slowed down a bit in the last couple weeks, but I’m still having fun.<span style=""> </span>When I call Ann, often there isn’t much to say when talking about “what’s new.”<span style=""> </span>She still can’t visit, and as for working here, they are still processing requests from November of last year.<span style=""> </span>So, I could get a job somewhere and wait a year for her to come join me, or just live that year in Thailand.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">It took me a couple of weeks to warm up to the idea.<span style=""> </span>I’m not a big<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjImwE4adWgiH5tJ1kUgvYbZ61aLKJXYZf438Tjubfa-IhEMFEP_ivgIJUmiyhOJQ7InTZEpB0-dDD-Lr2IFPmGsq64rVMjzKseqldblr48TBrlmDvtyTwHMQvxK5SPsyfwE6wNbKODjI/s1600/IMG_2998.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjImwE4adWgiH5tJ1kUgvYbZ61aLKJXYZf438Tjubfa-IhEMFEP_ivgIJUmiyhOJQ7InTZEpB0-dDD-Lr2IFPmGsq64rVMjzKseqldblr48TBrlmDvtyTwHMQvxK5SPsyfwE6wNbKODjI/s320/IMG_2998.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522894189649950898" border="0" /></a> Bangkok fan, but who knows right, it could be fun.<span style=""> </span>Once we’ve lived together for a year, there shouldn’t be so much red tape to go traveling together and such.<span style=""> </span>It’s unfortunate huge shipping crates of smuggled immigrants are finding refuge in Canada, but when you try going through the proper routes they make it impossible.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">But anyways, here I have hardly a page written up but it has been very difficult.<span style=""> </span>I lost my camera a couple weeks back at my sister’s house during a football game, and don’t have many pictures; the ones I'm posting are over a month old.<span style=""> </span>It’s quite baffling really, how it was in my hand one minute, but at the end of the night is completely gone.<span style=""> </span>I’m afraid to buy a new one because<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7KKB8DinCQKI-rltxO8CECm8g2bKR2wTFc-OinXy1NG0YcgIc1Fix1-Lt52TNxeuqo7yS1M7W7aeZ6G1I1ukRU1Eb7juqOtjHT081zfsEqNyQHEghSP5J-iK7LemG8b6Kv6Yq8JrrU_Q/s1600/IMG_3010.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7KKB8DinCQKI-rltxO8CECm8g2bKR2wTFc-OinXy1NG0YcgIc1Fix1-Lt52TNxeuqo7yS1M7W7aeZ6G1I1ukRU1Eb7juqOtjHT081zfsEqNyQHEghSP5J-iK7LemG8b6Kv6Yq8JrrU_Q/s320/IMG_3010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522893700148929858" border="0" /></a> I just know it’ll turn up somewhere eventually.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I get inspired periodically to write something down on this blog, just little blurbs about life in general mostly.<span style=""> </span>I’ve signed up to the gym finally to try and lose weight for real, and it’s been a good experience so far.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I read a quote a while back, about how friends are there not just waiting until they can talk, or try to change you, but to just enjoy your company.<span style=""> </span>I’m paraphrasing of course, but it struck a chord with me.<span style=""> </span>My friends here are a lot different from my friends in Japan, but I enjoy their company just the same.<span style=""> </span>It took a number of weeks to “get used to” being back in Regina, so I guess it’s better than the over 2 years it took in Japan.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">The sky is huge here, and as a result, the fall colours are a bit harder to view compared to seeing a mountain covered in the multicolor.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg6FLf5jdoBkzC9-R3fpRCHVuxKaq6YTu2v9lng5b0G9PZpNO93y-vheX2lc3DEuqkUIUO0_8-bcDdMxWR0c5hn_cFjtx4fh0fwbdRDNq1NYge1q8Fz4WwAYR8E2kwcqhtZr_XlIlDmQo/s1600/IMG_3030.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg6FLf5jdoBkzC9-R3fpRCHVuxKaq6YTu2v9lng5b0G9PZpNO93y-vheX2lc3DEuqkUIUO0_8-bcDdMxWR0c5hn_cFjtx4fh0fwbdRDNq1NYge1q8Fz4WwAYR8E2kwcqhtZr_XlIlDmQo/s320/IMG_3030.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522894065891561090" border="0" /></a><span style=""> </span>I see things, like Japanese commercials on TV, or their beer at the liquor store; either Regina has become more international, or I have for noticing it now.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m off to watch a movie at my sister’s house now, and trying to post this before October comes.<span style=""> </span>I’ll try and update more frequently maybe?<span style=""> </span>This has been a really good, relaxing holiday so far ^_^</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">"Life does not happen to us, it happens from us." -Mike Wickett </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">tnoy</p>Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-41452615794122925782010-08-30T21:32:00.000-07:002010-08-30T21:46:43.072-07:00Summer in VancouverWell, I’ve been in Canada a month now and I haven’t posted a new entry.<span style=""> </span>I finally finished the last of my unpacking today, so maybe I’m ‘caught up’ enough to dip into this hobby yet again; after all, I still have friends in Japan that may take interest in my travels.<span style=""> </span>I suspect the format and feel of my blog may change a lot; always try something new eh? It may even get a face lift as I figure out my next big adventure.<br /><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My first week back,<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIcRoFL97L-4dnGH6E2JmAevA-sQW4hn4oBvgX-n84Fjx1_2aFwlPAmNy7VEO5RkiulbalDUuyjeYtbGvfxBWSO8JEuFsSHwsptDw_HH_qqvtTHLJsG2oihjohx7e8GZQvyCntJOsa2lU/s1600/IMG_2620.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIcRoFL97L-4dnGH6E2JmAevA-sQW4hn4oBvgX-n84Fjx1_2aFwlPAmNy7VEO5RkiulbalDUuyjeYtbGvfxBWSO8JEuFsSHwsptDw_HH_qqvtTHLJsG2oihjohx7e8GZQvyCntJOsa2lU/s320/IMG_2620.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511427808529306402" border="0" /></a> now over 3 weeks ago, was a big trip to Vancouver.<span style=""> </span>I stayed with my friend Steve, who was awesome enough to meet me at the airport and help me haul my heavy luggage back to his place to stay.<span style=""> </span>I was wired from the lack of sleep, being back, and seeing my good friend that I babbled incessantly.<span style=""> </span>I was relating many things as I saw them, and sharing many stories of my time in Japan.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The “Reverse Culture Shock”, an overused phrase hanging heavily over my head before departure was feared, and perhaps I took a proactive attempt to breach it prematurely.<span style=""> </span>Upon relating my fears, my friend had no idea what I was talking about, so I should probably explain: “Reverse Culture Shock” is usually worse than culture shock itself, as I should be more familiar and comfortable with my native culture. Since I’ve been absent so long: my country has changed, my friends have changed, and I have changed.<span style=""> </span>Some people have a hard time coping with that, as I remember one former JET was quoted as saying: “I felt like I had no home to return to anymore”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Oh ya, and transferring in the States was terrible.<span style=""> </span>Despite my need to only transfer, I still had to go through customs, find my luggage, check it again, run around,<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ3iGyoZj98_5LEjK4Ltc-T4cFbdoEbBwjdn6l1nZiBd2JxVlFvZsyF5S4zyaD1khrvv1p-nE9WyBHkCz9tu2eue2MWQ4RXpfFiZzg-tQRUpDjnPa2lFEF9t-P74oHhrwi9Nb_eiY3ho0/s1600/IMG_2632.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ3iGyoZj98_5LEjK4Ltc-T4cFbdoEbBwjdn6l1nZiBd2JxVlFvZsyF5S4zyaD1khrvv1p-nE9WyBHkCz9tu2eue2MWQ4RXpfFiZzg-tQRUpDjnPa2lFEF9t-P74oHhrwi9Nb_eiY3ho0/s320/IMG_2632.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511428203725427506" border="0" /></a> get stopped and asked awkward questions among other things.<span style=""> </span>I had over 2 hours to make my transfer, but because of the system I almost missed that flight, and had to sprint a great distance to catch it.<span style=""> </span>I was not amused.<span style=""> </span>By comparison when I got to Vancouver, after landing I saw Steve within 15 minutes maybe.<span style=""> </span>If I can help it, I’ll book flights that never transfer in the states again.<span style=""> </span>They treated my possible missed departure like everyday business, while I panicked wondering what I’d have to do if I’d missed my flight like they were trying to make me.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Anyways, Vancouver is awesome.<span style=""> </span>That first night Steve took me out for some amazing hamburgers and we geeked out watching TV shows and drinking Canadian beers after.<span style=""> </span>Of course, I had a beer or two every day in Vancouver, and marveled at the diverse selection found there.<span style=""> </span>Steve had to work the next day, I guess Friday the 30<sup>th</sup> (I gained a day by crossing the Pacific) so I walked from his place to downtown; a beautiful trip over some huge bridges adorning<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJkCtF81HuxCKFFcU_20DN3EFyfUOFSlhFdpnFkDh3JToIfQSxm6PxzvCdEMws8PpVlfpmIoN5k9xNpMK2JcFQPO5Q3SEy8gY5bdwkEqrXCRro_DbfjD8p3c_JosK0JTCYExiecJmUBHI/s1600/IMG_2637.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJkCtF81HuxCKFFcU_20DN3EFyfUOFSlhFdpnFkDh3JToIfQSxm6PxzvCdEMws8PpVlfpmIoN5k9xNpMK2JcFQPO5Q3SEy8gY5bdwkEqrXCRro_DbfjD8p3c_JosK0JTCYExiecJmUBHI/s320/IMG_2637.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511428444142071634" border="0" /></a> the skyline.<span style=""> </span>The only thing odd I found was many of the skyscrapers were identical to each other; apparently many employed the same architect.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">Now downtown, I stopped for pizza at a little shop.<span style=""> </span>I was delighted to have some Canadian pizza again, full of flavour, and a small side of wings.<span style=""> </span>My first acquaintance I sat with was a pleasant girl, and we had a good talk.<span style=""> </span>After she left, and homeless man came in and took her can from the table.<span style=""> </span>Stranger ye, after that there was another man with perhaps some mental problems; for he would eat really fast, then convulse while speaking in tongues.<span style=""> </span>After the first minute, I wondered if he was choking, but soon enough he would stuff his face some more, before his next session of crazy garble.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">There were many homeless, and the smell of drugs was everywhere.<span style=""> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSqYBwHPpgDWT5y4UdQFyFW-1SIWggpeAYsXTLsxD_hHuW68w_b2dSYKvi9d_ahnLjmxZuC73SC-7xuO-YP_TY3JE35Ok_EmerxUgVstly-J6GAPWN0EnBlJCqfVRtfQ4YJgjIy6lYKIY/s1600/IMG_2657.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSqYBwHPpgDWT5y4UdQFyFW-1SIWggpeAYsXTLsxD_hHuW68w_b2dSYKvi9d_ahnLjmxZuC73SC-7xuO-YP_TY3JE35Ok_EmerxUgVstly-J6GAPWN0EnBlJCqfVRtfQ4YJgjIy6lYKIY/s320/IMG_2657.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511428783239942258" border="0" /></a>I was informed you can leave a can/bottle anywhere in the city and it would be cleaned up within 10 minutes.<span style=""> </span>They never caused me any problems, and in a way were keeping the city clean, but it was still a shock to experience again.<span style=""> </span>Unlike Sydney though, the subway was very clean, and much more frequent; I highly enjoyed the public transit.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">It was a long weekend because of a “BC day” that was new.<span style=""> </span>What also was new was the “Harmony Tax”, which does little more than add the Provincial and Government taxes together, and make the price of food more expensive.<span style=""> </span>It’s still hard getting used to adding 12% more money to everything I purchase, and harder yet feeling obligated to add another 10% or so for tips at restaurants.<span style=""> </span>I already miss the service of Japan, or atleast being able to get my own water; many a times already I’ve tried flagging a waitress in vain, or spent half a meal thirsty.<span style=""> </span>Yet, they must be tipped apparently.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">Maybe there is more to write about than I thought; I know the depression and other stuff didn’t hit until the 2<sup>nd</sup> or 3<sup>rd</sup><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPtyrCbf76fsKAnmK2jC2p_wCYs8XHFGKtyZ91XfSySZNMHdoCE1_1tFQoigdca6QwDgc3Y9knoOyfp_QKayDJK-l2Cdb6MKzmcQTux7581NSqLUIn_50hVDJ-wzxpfhcv5plC6WVzU5E/s1600/IMG_2722.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPtyrCbf76fsKAnmK2jC2p_wCYs8XHFGKtyZ91XfSySZNMHdoCE1_1tFQoigdca6QwDgc3Y9knoOyfp_QKayDJK-l2Cdb6MKzmcQTux7581NSqLUIn_50hVDJ-wzxpfhcv5plC6WVzU5E/s320/IMG_2722.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511429489809454898" border="0" /></a> week back, but I should try and keep these stories to Vancouver, as it was all fun ^_^ Steve took me out to the famous (and therefore tourist heavy) “Granville Island”, where we saw his old Pastry Chef school, had the best Fish -n- Chips in Vancouver, and bought fresh produce like blueberries for cheap at the farmer’s market.<span style=""> </span>That night, he made some “Texas Style” chili, which is different from the normal chili I’m used to with beans and such, but it was delicious.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sunday was a gloomy day, and we spent it indoors at the HR MacMillan Space Centre.<span style=""> </span>I didn’t expect to be there all day, but we were bouncing from the planetarium <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeg5oSMNX9JRMgAkt6LIUSiWbvleedkAJ2bdexHyMSmjHxPSqXAuGCevAiZRzNmuGUV5hYn-66CfBjQ8yMv_xUYO_horOWt1JdyWkhlv_yoSOoELXepD2BiduvtLKOHmkq5XGkY2_4FEg/s1600/IMG_2731.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeg5oSMNX9JRMgAkt6LIUSiWbvleedkAJ2bdexHyMSmjHxPSqXAuGCevAiZRzNmuGUV5hYn-66CfBjQ8yMv_xUYO_horOWt1JdyWkhlv_yoSOoELXepD2BiduvtLKOHmkq5XGkY2_4FEg/s320/IMG_2731.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511429731998688274" border="0" /></a>to the main museum constantly because they had new and interesting shows playing every hour.<span style=""> </span>It was tough, given my jet lag, being in a dark room and reclining on a soft chair to look at the stars above; I started snoring during one show.<span style=""> </span>I’m so glad we went though, but am a bit sad we missed the pride week festivities across the lake; I doubt you’ll see a party like that in Regina or anything.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I think it was Monday now, and we caught up with my friend Erika again; a teacher from Okaya during my first year in Japan, and I met up with her when I visited last year in Victoria.<span style=""> </span>We went for some delicious sushi, then later she took us to “wreck beach”, a clothing optional establishment.<span style=""> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6i3oCtkqfUdTPAx-D82x4G0_7aRe8tm3eBh-38q2jV35rEr6e288V2Ol_1fqSvGxBUKJvcrrqI0aviYE1JMA3SJR7q8-MVYTL0abDZcduduyt_MZ-lWmoLiYB8gywemZSRcEzMlszDpI/s1600/IMG_2742.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6i3oCtkqfUdTPAx-D82x4G0_7aRe8tm3eBh-38q2jV35rEr6e288V2Ol_1fqSvGxBUKJvcrrqI0aviYE1JMA3SJR7q8-MVYTL0abDZcduduyt_MZ-lWmoLiYB8gywemZSRcEzMlszDpI/s320/IMG_2742.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511430007534985570" border="0" /></a><span style=""> </span>It was right beside the university, and it was quite the attraction.<span style=""> </span>Most people had clothes on of course, but it was still full of crazy sites like a naked man standing and paddling on a surfboard, or a guy wearing only a cape.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The police came by once, and despite the place smelling like drugs, they were only concerned with open alcohol.<span style=""> </span>People warned others of the upcoming inspection, so we were safe, but the group beside us wasn’t so lucky for some reason.<span style=""> </span>All that happened was their beer got poured out and I think they got a warning.<span style=""> </span>When they were gone, we continued drinking.<span style=""> </span>That night Erika made us some awesome tacos.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Steve was back to work on Tuesday so I went exploring.<span style=""> </span>Everyone<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMi1UwPdpoI5xDgmWYVatLOgHSls62tSwt2L54mpG5dB8gPFcErlHzM92qfXDnL7MVR2_lzw5I8AqcVAv8edCedEiesJUdGoi2Zmw8MMNPIJDT1GCddqeVl-0h-m4wjd4Vb4fHf1wYw1I/s1600/IMG_2762.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMi1UwPdpoI5xDgmWYVatLOgHSls62tSwt2L54mpG5dB8gPFcErlHzM92qfXDnL7MVR2_lzw5I8AqcVAv8edCedEiesJUdGoi2Zmw8MMNPIJDT1GCddqeVl-0h-m4wjd4Vb4fHf1wYw1I/s320/IMG_2762.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511430402174228738" border="0" /></a> talked about this big, awesome aquarium, so after getting lost downtown exploring for a while, I gave it a look.<span style=""> </span>I was very disappointed and would recommend anyone go to any one of the many aquariums I had seen in Japan for a much better time.<span style=""> </span>Stanley Park was really cool though, even if I only saw a little bit.<span style=""> </span>Right away, there were a couple raccoons on the tree and I hadn’t seen them before.<span style=""> </span>In my excitement, I was ready to point them out to others passing by before realizing they treated them like pests.<span style=""> </span>Sure enough later on they scared some girls off a bench so they could rummage a nearby garbage can.<span style=""> </span>Oh well, for the brief time I saw them they were kind of cute.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I think Wednesday <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghL1Aq1ETdA8eQUzrFVispuRDSNs4LBot9qk6X_mjamlbijQ7JHGFhxgB3SpBZmwtWmr48ZYgaQeLPPn1aqgPE5An_yVLrcS8MTmCobHOf8CWPGBNP13cq_AjhDiD1_RE689G_T2HNIqU/s1600/IMG_2772.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghL1Aq1ETdA8eQUzrFVispuRDSNs4LBot9qk6X_mjamlbijQ7JHGFhxgB3SpBZmwtWmr48ZYgaQeLPPn1aqgPE5An_yVLrcS8MTmCobHOf8CWPGBNP13cq_AjhDiD1_RE689G_T2HNIqU/s320/IMG_2772.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511430596100115218" border="0" /></a>was my last day in Vancouver, though I don’t have many pictures and doubt I did much.<span style=""> </span>It seemed I was sleeping in until noon each day, but I had a lot of fun.<span style=""> </span>Steve is a great cook and made lots of food, while we drank beers and watched geeky shows.<span style=""> </span>“Burn Notice”, “Community” and more joined a list of TV shows I should probably watch, but just don’t have the time to.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I booked a bus to Victoria, bid farewell to my good friend, and stayed with my sister for the next 4 days or so.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">"Improve relationships with others by assuming that they can hear everything you say about them." -Stephen R. Covey </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">tnoy</p> <!--EndFragment-->Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-80953001801407048642010-07-30T11:41:00.000-07:002010-07-30T12:07:05.429-07:00So Long Japan, and Thanks for all the FishAlthough I only got home around 1 in the morning, Tuesday, July 20<sup>th</sup> was a holiday because of the festival that weekend.<span style=""> </span>Although I don’t remember much from that day, I’m fairly certain I cleaned more.<span style=""> </span>That night was my farewell party with Yayoi. <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We went for soba and other party foods at a local restaurant.<span style=""> </span>There, I was treated to a speech from Momose Sensei, where he thanked me for the group, saying kind things like how I understood<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhat5dRU_G4OqzoADFCBUftn8TSfpq_hKJKr1nlstHBnuILvdqWv4kJgLb7RO9Lkq5E9Plj7JllxNrTKs9sEQ87pqf0fGyWfdgml9TxdejHfI0xWtInLnGg2DxnRUq9c_6DjJSd3-crxEA/s1600/IMG_2408.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhat5dRU_G4OqzoADFCBUftn8TSfpq_hKJKr1nlstHBnuILvdqWv4kJgLb7RO9Lkq5E9Plj7JllxNrTKs9sEQ87pqf0fGyWfdgml9TxdejHfI0xWtInLnGg2DxnRUq9c_6DjJSd3-crxEA/s320/IMG_2408.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499772085937064354" border="0" /></a> the students well, could be counted on for fun lessons in advance, and that I was always kind to the kids.<span style=""> </span>It was a very kind speech, and a very special night.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Wednesday was another farewell party with some of the Adult Students again, but much smaller this time, and we went for Unagi (eel), a summer specialty.<span style=""> </span>It was delicious if you’ve ever had the stuff, and we bid farewell to each other yet again, as it was the last time I could see them before going home.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On Thursday was my last day at Tatsuno High School.<span style=""> </span>The kids were well behaved, and we played games for my last 2 classes with them.<span style=""> </span>I was very happy for the last class when I said “good morning” the whole class greeted me back.<span style=""> </span>I knew I could finish on a high note.<span style=""> </span>After school, many students came by with many different presents, and we talked for a good while.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When I wasn’t busy, I wrote up thank you cards with my email to other teachers, and gave them parting presents.<span style=""> </span>I couldn’t find any Canadian wine anywhere; so then I looked for Maple cookies.<span style=""> </span>Alas I couldn’t find those either, so I got other cookies, and they were well received.<span style=""> </span>That night we had our farewell party together at another restaurant in Ina.<span style=""> </span>It was delicious again, and Komagome Sensei tried to keep up with me; we had over 2 liters each.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Of the 5 teachers, 3 have been teaching with me for the whole 3 years.<span style=""> </span>Only Kumagai Sensei couldn’t make the party, because he got the chicken pox or something, and has been in the hospital for weeks.<span style=""> </span>Komagome <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhVI3T0gGRPPBEqjS6Y3kC3bejqAIAAblKf33R_7Fl3jkzOnQp3pvIplpJjyYU2i_oZu4gOcElSgebYmAjKl5Ne0lPo3QjYq3-UiI6EGeYeKpkc7tzVi9RCmT18N4sqfPh0a3OhYsfkhs/s1600/IMG_2397.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhVI3T0gGRPPBEqjS6Y3kC3bejqAIAAblKf33R_7Fl3jkzOnQp3pvIplpJjyYU2i_oZu4gOcElSgebYmAjKl5Ne0lPo3QjYq3-UiI6EGeYeKpkc7tzVi9RCmT18N4sqfPh0a3OhYsfkhs/s320/IMG_2397.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499773100852904210" border="0" /></a>sensei was tasked with my farewell speech, and had many kind words for me, like how I taught him much more than just teaching, and that he would miss me dearly.<span style=""> </span>We all had a hard farewell, the Japanese kind where they stood at the restaurant waving at me until I walked out of sight.<span style=""> </span>I will miss them deeply.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I caught myself taking pictures and movies of mundane things; pictures of my desk, the hallway, driving north, my train station, and more.<span style=""> </span>Even when I look at them now, they bring back good memories, and I’m happy to have records of them.<span style=""> </span>When I look at the pictures of my friends, and those who came to wish me well, I am flooded with recollections of the good times we shared.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After parties everyday, Friday night was more subdued for a chance of respite.<span style=""> </span>I went out for a simple supper with Thi while we waited for Richard to get out of his work party and then had an early night.<span style=""> </span>On Saturday we met up with Sorin and Molly, and went for a quick swim in the Tenryu River near a campground I visited last year.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was still beautiful, surrounded by rich green trees and grass.<span style=""> </span>We even saw some snake skins lying around.<span style=""> </span>We jumped into the water and cooled down, as the hot summer days of late were very taxing.<span style=""> </span>It’s amazing how a hot, hot day quickly becomes a nice day when you’re out swimming.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We went to Okaya after and saw the movie “Inception” because with a movie rumored to be this good, you need to see it before you hear spoilers; otherwise it would have been a tough call to pick between seeing it, and Toy Story 3.<span style=""> </span>It was a really good movie as we were told, and I still look forward to seeing the new Toy Story sometime, though now it’ll have to be in Canada.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That night, Neal’s friend Michelle was celebrating her birthday at the castle.<span style=""> </span>For it, they had a keg after eating monstrous<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiejIbQnt-RcJuHhqcteYmrWzcgomfrhHs58DIzk5qpiPmZFTfNHLK7OVOP-VdY4gM-1rQ0_4eowUTmOUw8aLs728C-uAIODeNq3f9z0xqPuhFWzm-Qyg_Br3d3NJbQ1hIjec6unU3aA6g/s1600/IMG_2404.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiejIbQnt-RcJuHhqcteYmrWzcgomfrhHs58DIzk5qpiPmZFTfNHLK7OVOP-VdY4gM-1rQ0_4eowUTmOUw8aLs728C-uAIODeNq3f9z0xqPuhFWzm-Qyg_Br3d3NJbQ1hIjec6unU3aA6g/s320/IMG_2404.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499773554594532866" border="0" /></a> hamburgers.<span style=""> </span>It was a really good idea for a party, and we played Frisbee in the dark because it had little lights built in.<span style=""> </span>Other teachers came by, and more farewell words were shared; it’s interesting to see how large exoduses play out among social circles.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On Sunday we had more time to take a slightly longer drive to that breathtaking waterhole near Komagane.<span style=""> </span>I hadn’t been there since my welcome party 3 years ago, where I met many people for the first time.<span style=""> </span>It’s funny how things came full circle, as this was my last Sunday in Japan.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was still a splendor to behold, and still icy to jump in.<span style=""> </span>This time I had the courage to jump, but hit the bottom after a small jump.<span style=""> </span>I guess taking off from high up was not meant to be, but it didn’t stop us from having fun.<span style=""> </span>After a couple hours of this, we started to pack up, and were hit by a monsoon.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The downpour was wicked, and Richard went scrambling<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtUt3u68MIPfp4_HGNAeGImkjoC_zgezZ3PacWxTtY3kPJj-e2t_G8FVlz82CKsVVfgarMNELRkAVqMl5P52pQWSzNSr_DnDBNFUy-pxRKbRcR4AQBmOsKsBfAlanQh37CPL4rUCwUz6I/s1600/IMG_2476.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtUt3u68MIPfp4_HGNAeGImkjoC_zgezZ3PacWxTtY3kPJj-e2t_G8FVlz82CKsVVfgarMNELRkAVqMl5P52pQWSzNSr_DnDBNFUy-pxRKbRcR4AQBmOsKsBfAlanQh37CPL4rUCwUz6I/s320/IMG_2476.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499774294454022802" border="0" /></a> for the car to pick us up.<span style=""> </span>As we drove out of it though, it was an interesting freak storm that affected just a small area, climbing over the Alps and washing a line from East to West; just a couple kilometers north and south were dry.<span style=""> </span>It sure was cool to see.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That night was my last farewell party, and it was at Mervin’s house.<span style=""> </span>We only decided on it Friday maybe, and I didn’t really invite anyone.<span style=""> </span>Mervin made some calls though, and it was a fun little gathering with lots of freshly made food from some of his Pilipino friends.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On Monday I taught my last 2 classes in Japan, and that night went to my favourite restaurant, kappa sushi, for the last time.<span style=""> </span>I met up with 7 others, and lined up all my favourite dishes for pictures and consumption.<span style=""> </span>I went to that restaurant maybe every week, and have a profound love for sushi and wasabi thanks to it.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I traded farewells with other people I wouldn’t be seeing again before Thursday, and that night, I slept on the floor of my empty house.<span style=""> </span>I had a cushion I would throw in the garbage in the morning, but despite that, I am very proud of the way I was able to clean up everything in my house and get ready to go; it’s own type of therapy.<span style=""> </span>I realized that I had been cleaning for over 5 weeks, and having hard farewells with many good friends for over 2 weeks that I was all played out.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I had made my peace with Japan, was all cried out, and ready to move on with my life.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On Tuesday I gave my farewell speech to Yayoi and never broke down like I did at Tatsuno thanks to my newfound<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6BXRemY67ZuDV71LgkQOXLm2dozrB-OWC0kFYbTusLVMLFfxOrZ3HGgqkSeYLjBzRjQBBvK8a-gdzeEsnBqEzqwWmkXQCpP-9vf7O4MrxJ31_TpJ08PCVyhC7q7iB5OSEmdziDFJW-4/s1600/IMG_2504.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6BXRemY67ZuDV71LgkQOXLm2dozrB-OWC0kFYbTusLVMLFfxOrZ3HGgqkSeYLjBzRjQBBvK8a-gdzeEsnBqEzqwWmkXQCpP-9vf7O4MrxJ31_TpJ08PCVyhC7q7iB5OSEmdziDFJW-4/s320/IMG_2504.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499775005926317090" border="0" /></a> closure.<span style=""> </span>I got choked up obviously, and so were my kids, and we were able to be happy about our time together in unison.<span style=""> </span>When I walked through the gym this time where they parted and clapped their hands, some would come and shake my hand.<span style=""> </span>I patted some backs, waved, and we all celebrated the joy that was my tenure here.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was another busy day, as they all have been, with thank you cards, gifts, last minute errands such as cleaning out my bank, handing over my car and house keys, paperwork and more.<span style=""> </span>When it was time, I shook hands, hugged some, and made my way to the door (after throwing my shoes in the garbage; there wasn’t any room in my luggage)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">To my surprise, everyone followed me.<span style=""> </span>Soon I was leading a procession to the door, and was joined by other teachers along the way that took notice.<span style=""> </span>At the entrance we ran into even more people, and the girls softball team.<span style=""> </span>I wanted one last picture together, and everyone was happy to oblige.<span style=""> </span>They gave me thanks; I shed my last tears, and had another long walk home, with everyone standing at the entrance, waving to me until I was out of sight.<span style=""> </span>I now understand why they do that in Japan, and it touched my soul.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I went home and finished filling my suitcases.<span style=""> </span>Took my last photos of my empty house, and tried to make the “5-minute” walk with all of my heavy luggage; it took half an hour.<span style=""> </span>I hoped to catch up with Richard for one last beer together, but was obviously falling behind time.<span style=""> </span>He ran up the hill though to shake my hand and bid me farewell before quickly running to his own bus, one taking him to Tokyo and later Vietnam.<span style=""> </span>I hope he has a good trip like what Neal and I had 2 years ago.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I somehow made it to my train on time.<span style=""> </span>I rode it for an hour north, taking in my surroundings,<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDuIlZj4RF0n1TNaVhLeJ03BZTfy9hdeJWoOW1JUIm_N72KRMy2VCV3a71MD9P9d0CtMuRmuCiwn3xdMfSno5fsv-aU_mF0hahNU52CDlR5GobVOVbALOFDdFzBmKXlMzyZM464qJt5m0/s1600/IMG_2460.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDuIlZj4RF0n1TNaVhLeJ03BZTfy9hdeJWoOW1JUIm_N72KRMy2VCV3a71MD9P9d0CtMuRmuCiwn3xdMfSno5fsv-aU_mF0hahNU52CDlR5GobVOVbALOFDdFzBmKXlMzyZM464qJt5m0/s320/IMG_2460.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499777775855099234" border="0" /></a> and the novelty of riding a train.<span style=""> </span>Craig and Lauren picked me up at the station, and together we joined Kayo for some subs.<span style=""> </span>A novelty food in Japan, sure, but it was delicious, and it was great to see my good friends again before I left.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Craig took me to Mervin’s after, where I could size up a scale and have an idea of what I was looking at.<span style=""> </span>My large bag was over 10kg overweight.<span style=""> </span>My heart sunk when I saw that, and started doing major surgery to its insides.<span style=""> </span>Some presents had to be thrown out, most of my socks and underwear, and many articles of clothing filled one of Mervin’s garbage bags.<span style=""> </span>While it was fraught with tough calls, it was encouraging to know I was that much closer to being ready for Thursday.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We watched ‘The Shawshank Redemption” that night before going to sleep, and laughed at how we could draw awkward analogies to my departure and that classic film.<span style=""> </span>In the morning, Wednesday, I took the 5-minute taxi to the train station, and it cost twice what my half hour train to Matsumoto was.<span style=""> </span>I sure won’t miss the taxis here, but atleast it took my luggage for me.<span style=""> </span>In Matsumoto, there was a fleet of taxis, all with running engines of course, but it’s a lot easier now to not let things bug me.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Neal came and picked me up, and I parked my luggage at his house.<span style=""> </span>He had work, so I could relax that morning, <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWihNiavu_Kn-hN4RtbtyzMmTX3S8AgcOlWt3mhUpyi5fT_HQjTj9UbNsFYW4lVhEXaXS0eCaazPcv4SyTNUtkdnLLASOWKRJxWk35jUjoUlxfrud_94TZIN44JbRgZndbopG1aaHtIbI/s1600/IMG_2556.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWihNiavu_Kn-hN4RtbtyzMmTX3S8AgcOlWt3mhUpyi5fT_HQjTj9UbNsFYW4lVhEXaXS0eCaazPcv4SyTNUtkdnLLASOWKRJxWk35jUjoUlxfrud_94TZIN44JbRgZndbopG1aaHtIbI/s320/IMG_2556.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499775957116563762" border="0" /></a>and later we got lunch; my last bowl of ramen.<span style=""> </span>After lunch I cancelled my cell phone, and looked for a couple presents with not much luck; I hardly had any luggage space after all.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Neal joined me later, and together with Michelle we had all-you-can-eat Korean BBQ for my last supper in Japan.<span style=""> </span>After, we played games at Neal’s house.<span style=""> </span>It was a long hot day, and I was ragged from all the activities as of late, but was still grateful for chance to spend time with my good friend before leaving.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On Thursday morning, I was awakened to Neal making me breakfast.<span style=""> </span>I was exhausted, but forced myself out of bed to try and make the most of our time together.<span style=""> </span>It was short lived, as before long the airport taxi was calling.<span style=""> </span>For $20 than making my own way to the airport, it would pick me up and take me straight there; a huge convenience, especially considering all my bags.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We both refused to say ‘goodbye’ to each other, and instead <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihS7PXI_mnO_xV1IOBALQ5pXhOjTWPUPmN0bKbz9BMfYhGqrq1uKGuW9K3Vth0vdiRU_L3M996ijkRNjT3C1VoBuF_09C1Mb7RrCF21Wxo3w_bgeQ_VwAK14weU7KgyTypVqJYFoSqw9s/s1600/IMG_2531.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihS7PXI_mnO_xV1IOBALQ5pXhOjTWPUPmN0bKbz9BMfYhGqrq1uKGuW9K3Vth0vdiRU_L3M996ijkRNjT3C1VoBuF_09C1Mb7RrCF21Wxo3w_bgeQ_VwAK14weU7KgyTypVqJYFoSqw9s/s320/IMG_2531.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499775265868524898" border="0" /></a>we look forward to the next time we can meet up again.<span style=""> </span>I’ve said it before (and believe it) with other friends of course, though saying it to the last friendly face before leaving still made me choke up, and I told him to have a good day in an effort to break some of the somber overtone.<span style=""> </span>Life is a celebration, not a funeral.<span style=""> </span>I will miss my dear friend.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So there I was, at the airport, typing this up while waiting for the flight that will end “Anthony’s Amazing Asian Adventure.”<span style=""> </span>I handed in my foreigner card, checked in my luggage, and was even stopped in a random security check.<span style=""> </span>The police saluted me when they walked off, thanking me for my 3 years of service here.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m ready to go home, and I am forever grateful for making the best decision of my life by coming here.<span style=""> </span>3 years have come and gone, and I consider myself a lucky man to have experienced it, to have had the chance to learn and grow from it, and to meet all the amazing people that I have.<span style=""> </span>To all my friends I made here in Japan, thank you, from the bottom of my heart.<span style=""> </span>You will be missed, and you will never be forgotten.<span style=""> </span>To all my friends and family back home in Canada, thank you for your love and support, and I will see you soon.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Until we meet again, have a good one and take care ^_^</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">tnoy</p> <!--EndFragment-->Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-60687517257144092042010-07-23T03:52:00.000-07:002010-07-23T04:10:43.665-07:00It's not getting any easierIt seems I can’t leave the house without completing another 3 errands or so, from saying goodbye to people, to buying presents, to sending large and heavy boxes home.<span style=""> </span>Let’s just say I’ve spent over $250 at the post office this month, but atleast there is progress.<span style=""> </span>I know this update is late, but that’s to be expected; pandemonium.<span style=""> </span>Let me backtrack and try to put the chaos into words, as I post this blog late on a Friday night before going to another party. <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On the 13<sup>th</sup>, I made a special trip to Matsumoto<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJ0ZMbABROItOJq1bueMu4ja81AA1x9EDYzVz87lJAgX0t1sswp4kroHy8-qS8Ate6H3o-A-6H2vljFANIQlGGDWTZeDBXbvkP9oZOSq_gAlYQyXMh_gMkVEfV_6I_CKVqcXG4RSNPuY/s1600/IMG_2370.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJ0ZMbABROItOJq1bueMu4ja81AA1x9EDYzVz87lJAgX0t1sswp4kroHy8-qS8Ate6H3o-A-6H2vljFANIQlGGDWTZeDBXbvkP9oZOSq_gAlYQyXMh_gMkVEfV_6I_CKVqcXG4RSNPuY/s320/IMG_2370.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497053743410148210" border="0" /></a> to drop off 3 more heaters for that cool guy, Trevor.<span style=""> </span>Since I was in town, I was able to meet up with Neal for some Indian food.<span style=""> </span>We went there before with my mom and Ann, and it was delicious again.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As it usually is, the conversation was interesting.<span style=""> </span>We reflected on the last 3 years together, from the first time I met Neal, to other crazy adventures.<span style=""> </span>He hit me with some blunt truth: “You were looking for a reason to stay”.<span style=""> </span>It’s true though, my reasons for coming to Japan changed into different reasons for why I stayed over time.<span style=""> </span>This last year was mostly “because I’m having the time of my life” and moving to Ina was seen largely as a fresh start.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Alas, I feel like it’s time to move on, and discovered my feelings that if I came back to teach English in Japan, it would be a like step backwards for myself personally; the same way that working in Regina again would be 2 steps back.<span style=""> </span>I want to move on to something new, and need to make the choice for myself.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">More insights were made, and more fun was had, before going back to Neal’s house for video games.<span style=""> </span>We played for hours, and it brought back many good memories from when I used to play games like this with friends; I was pretty rusty.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Neal told me he was busy Wednesday night for my farewell party with my adult students, but he said that to see the look of shock on my face when I saw him driving into the parking lot.<span style=""> </span>30 people or so had gathered at the local Chinese restaurant to see me off, and wish me well. Unfortunately I forgot my camera at Ike's the week before, and am missing many potential pictures, but you get the idea.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The food was amazing, and naturally the people were great.<span style=""> </span>I was surprised they asked me to give a speech straight away before I had any drinks, and was surprised even more when I started to choke up after the first sentence.<span style=""> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyn2sziJo_6tsnet3PXv_vz-yLQJxBGD8EzeKpKG7N2Q7wOOGJSCLqSBAp74848pm9WxRucEeEh6iLXRHRiKcKNETzVDGJ3q-AJTEMvYa7PBggfqnayuLI5QBzbvx3Os_BgHYAZA2mKRM/s1600/IMG_2195.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyn2sziJo_6tsnet3PXv_vz-yLQJxBGD8EzeKpKG7N2Q7wOOGJSCLqSBAp74848pm9WxRucEeEh6iLXRHRiKcKNETzVDGJ3q-AJTEMvYa7PBggfqnayuLI5QBzbvx3Os_BgHYAZA2mKRM/s320/IMG_2195.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497054796662199618" border="0" /></a><span style=""> </span>I mentioned how the last 3 years were summed up as a “Poof! And then they were gone” with a lump in my throat.<span style=""> </span>There I was, surrounded by such good friends, for so many years, and it was uncertain if I would see them again.<span style=""> </span>I ended my speech early before breaking down, but not before giving them heartfelt thanks.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We ate, we drank, and we had fun.<span style=""> </span>I got presents from some people, and photos with others.<span style=""> </span>Emails went around, memories were fondly recalled, and I gave them my last English lesson: “Take Care”, because goodbye is forever, and too sad.<span style=""> </span>I felt it was appropriate.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I got home ok thanks to Richard, but when I woke up in the morning the room was spinning like crazy.<span style=""> </span>I didn’t get very drunk the night before because I was so busy talking, and was reminded of a similar incident about 5 years ago when I had an ear infection, and the excess fluids made me dizzy.<span style=""> </span>Atleast this time I didn’t wake up puking like I did then.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I somehow drove to work in Tatsuno thinking it would pass, but that was pretty dangerous.<span style=""> </span>After fighting it for a while at school, I went to the hospital not far away.<span style=""> </span>I spent the next 5 hours lying on a bed, trying not to get sick.<span style=""> </span>They did some simple tests, I didn’t really understand, and then they told me this is apparently common, and they were going to give me medicine that “may or may not work”.<span style=""> </span>Oh and there was no one to check my ears; I’d have to come back another day. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It sounded like a placebo, but the huge syringe they brought out was not.<span style=""> </span>They put was seemed like ½ a liter or something inside me, so much it took almost 5 minutes to inject, then waited a while for the effects.<span style=""> </span>I could atleast sit up in the bed now, and was reassured it would get better, and got a prescription for something.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sure enough I did get better over the next 5 days, though I’m not sure what I had or what medicine I was taking.<span style=""> </span>I wondered if it was from stress or poor diet, though my mom thinks it was from a lack of water with this sweltering heat.<span style=""> </span>Atleast I’m ok again, but my time in the hospital not only made me reflect on my mom’s worst fears: of me being in that old hospital.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Also, I missed my last class with my 3<sup>rd</sup> years. <span style=""> </span>They still got some stuff done for the festival, and I was a bit relieved, as I was afraid my last talk to them would quickly decompose into a lecture.<span style=""> </span>I really hope they start acting better, as it’s hard to make a class interesting or fun if there is absolutely zero interest to listen or be quiet from the kids.<span style=""> </span>As I’ve said before, they’re the worst class I’ve ever had to deal with, and I just hope they calm down enough to show a little bit of respect for my colleague teaching with me.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Anyways, I was glad I was feeling good enough to give my farewell speech on Friday.<span style=""> </span>I had it prepared as I mentioned last time, and practiced it a couple times (it would take about 10 minutes).<span style=""> </span>After a brief introduction from the principal, I gave my speech.<span style=""> </span>I started with a “good morning”, to which about 5 students replied out of hundreds.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This set me back a bit, and is a big reason why I’ve grown tired of that school lately.<span style=""> </span>Regardless, <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn8LSUwFjr2L7PShN9aZ_GPtMODz5D-IsAjAVbbsP-EcHTLVEq50GMzEH70KOANJPu8uSb50KfmhVJC6rXgNSLFC6rPaD2v-wzJNDxvOwKJDXVRzK-mT4Gv8Gl_m47iMgTg40Bw0q8sCk/s1600/IMG_2176.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn8LSUwFjr2L7PShN9aZ_GPtMODz5D-IsAjAVbbsP-EcHTLVEq50GMzEH70KOANJPu8uSb50KfmhVJC6rXgNSLFC6rPaD2v-wzJNDxvOwKJDXVRzK-mT4Gv8Gl_m47iMgTg40Bw0q8sCk/s320/IMG_2176.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497053562011863474" border="0" /></a>they are still my kids, and I still had 3 amazing years with them.<span style=""> </span>I started my speech with a little joke to get them laughing, and then it got serious.<span style=""> </span>I could hear sniffles echoing in the gym, and when I came near the end, I broke down completely.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I have never wept so openly before, especially in such a huge crowd.<span style=""> </span>I truly believed in my words, and what I was telling them, and am truly grateful to be here.<span style=""> </span>Here is a transcript of my speech (roughly translated into English):</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Good Morning!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Yes, I’ll be going home soon.<span style=""> </span>You’re probably thinking: “Hey Tony! Whatcha’ talkin’ about?!?!” (In Osaka slang).<span style=""> </span>The last 3 years sure have gone fast, and I have been blessed with your kindness in that time.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">My feelings upon leaving are complicated.<span style=""> </span>I’m full of anticipation for things to come, and am excited to see my friends and family again.<span style=""> </span>At the same time, I’m hesitant.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">I remember when I first came here well.<span style=""> </span>I stood in this same spot, and said “nice to meet you”.<span style=""> </span>My Japanese was terrible then, but I studied and tried hard.<span style=""> </span>I took the Japanese proficiency test 2 years ago, and failed.<span style=""> </span>It was a shock, and I became depressed.<span style=""> </span>As I though, new languages are really hard, aren’t they?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">But, a new year is a new start, and I never give up.<span style=""> </span>I worked extremely hard, wrote the test again last year, and this time, I passed.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">It was a long, hard road, but the feeling of victory was enormous.<span style=""> </span>I wanted to try and give that feeling to you when I was teaching English.<span style=""> </span>I tried to make my classes fun for everyone.<span style=""> </span>Sometimes I may seem like a crazy foreigner from a crazy country, but the truth is I’m just a person, the same as all of you.<span style=""> </span>I hope all of you can go out, and try to live a life of joy and adventure, just like I am trying to.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Although I came here to teach English, I found myself learning everyday.<span style=""> </span>The Japanese studies I mentioned were just one example, I learnt about the culture and many other things too.<span style=""> </span>I have many memories from my time here.<span style=""> </span>Because of these experiences, I have been able to grow.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">You all live in a truly beautiful</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxL5HJkfECpV8cBEKkXcvHO_nKKFl3gyf_nib7pT0ml5u8FOglwLg81fwZVA20tavkcXk4bEOMnGhcDliJRfWM5UqWVp37wMxOT0iOb1AIkOw3NUThMa4IUvW72zs37fUqhaZNsKqRESg/s1600/IMG_2358.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxL5HJkfECpV8cBEKkXcvHO_nKKFl3gyf_nib7pT0ml5u8FOglwLg81fwZVA20tavkcXk4bEOMnGhcDliJRfWM5UqWVp37wMxOT0iOb1AIkOw3NUThMa4IUvW72zs37fUqhaZNsKqRESg/s320/IMG_2358.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497057403570812114" border="0" /></a><span style=""> place.<span style=""> </span>Everyday I would look at the mountains, breath the air, and enjoy the nature.<span style=""> </span>I have been to many places before, and I’ve grown to love Nagano and the people here.<span style=""> </span>I cannot believe my time in Japan is coming to an end.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Please don’t be sad that I’m going, but be happy that I came.<span style=""> </span>I will never forget your kindness, and I wish for your happiness from the bottom of my heart.<span style=""> </span>I am so grateful to you all, and I will miss you more than words can express.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Thank you for the best 3 years of my life.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Tears pouring down my face, and to a thunderous applause in the gym, I took a deep bow.<span style=""> </span>With shaking hands, I folded my speech up, and tried to dry my eyes.<span style=""> </span>I hoped to make a quick exit, but soon a student representative came up, and gave an English speech to me, as I roughly remember it:<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">“Thank you for teaching here, we will miss you.<span style=""> </span>You always said hello to all students, making us happy.<span style=""> </span>Your classes were always fun.<span style=""> </span>Please remember Tatsuno High School, and come to visit again someday.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">He spoke with such good English too, I couldn’t be more proud.<span style=""> </span>After another bout of tears and applause, I tried to run off stage again to hide my tears, but was told to stay up, warranting a chuckle.<span style=""> </span>There, the principal joined me, and gave a short speech, like how my last day was next Thursday.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Soon, he parted the gym up the middle like Noah, and together we walked through the rows of applauding, weeping kids.<span style=""> </span>I was a blubbering shaky mess now, but I tried to keep my head high as we walked through the procession, saying thank you to the students and teachers surrounding me, tears in their eyes, clapping their hands, and waving goodbye.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">I had to stop typing several times to keep from crying again, it was simply emotionally overwhelming.<span style=""> </span>I somehow drove back to Yayoi to finish classes for the day.<span style=""> </span>It was my last school festival in Tatsuno that weekend, and after the speech, I felt like I really wanted to go.<span style=""> </span>Alas, it was also my last long weekend in Japan, and I have been to 5 school festivals already, so I went on my last Japanese road trip.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Before going to Thi's place to spend the night, Richard and I went to a french restaurant in Matsumoto </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_88o2bLM-rft8Nzhr4GGoohCnfVu0YUN0Hq6uW0GQ5ykBh6-zctljrCA5DT1iHIpa0BYlDu3oaLFuZ-_iNcV6rS8LwUzlNL8FQLQzedIM-HPrAb8WX6OjVMqdcx8x4fvEpFGUBNVbR8Q/s1600/IMG_2241.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_88o2bLM-rft8Nzhr4GGoohCnfVu0YUN0Hq6uW0GQ5ykBh6-zctljrCA5DT1iHIpa0BYlDu3oaLFuZ-_iNcV6rS8LwUzlNL8FQLQzedIM-HPrAb8WX6OjVMqdcx8x4fvEpFGUBNVbR8Q/s320/IMG_2241.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497056111094198770" border="0" /></a><span style="">with Neal and Michelle. At Thi’s place, we planned our trip.<span style=""> </span>Because it was a long weekend, everything seemed busy.<span style=""> </span>We didn’t have camping equipment, so we looked for hotels, and the pickings were very slim.<span style=""> </span>I went to sleep early, still feeling dizzy and sick, and Saturday morning we drove 6 hours north to Niigata, the only place we could find a place to stay, and it was only for 2 people, so we had to sneak me in; there was simply no where else to stay.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">We had the chance to drive along the coast, and immediately we understood Neal’s deep-seated hate for tetra pods.<span style=""> </span>Scattered for many kilometers along the coast, around 5 meters from the shore, were what must have been thousands of tons of very ugly concrete.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">I enjoyed the ride regardless</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXsQJBTV99JUVoyu2CnFLVunp1IfVhg6Pa7L0-539CmQsw-oA8JZAFKCbzcvSh17ejh6NWRetS9-i3mUkMkZN0DYuoeKR8zhD1V0m8kt62jv8cKGLplnThtYbgoN-rIdXv7l_5KBKb47U/s1600/IMG_2302.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXsQJBTV99JUVoyu2CnFLVunp1IfVhg6Pa7L0-539CmQsw-oA8JZAFKCbzcvSh17ejh6NWRetS9-i3mUkMkZN0DYuoeKR8zhD1V0m8kt62jv8cKGLplnThtYbgoN-rIdXv7l_5KBKb47U/s320/IMG_2302.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497056454856391554" border="0" /></a><span style=""> though, as I found a book at Thi’s place: “1984”.<span style=""> </span>I never really knew much about it before, but am so glad I got to read it.<span style=""> </span>The whole thing was so amazing, so frightening, and so engrossing, that I started to turn anti-social half way through the trip.<span style=""> </span>I apologized for being rude with my nose in a book, but it really was a great way to unwind.<span style=""> </span>I highly recommend it to everyone.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">We didn’t really do much in Niigata, as we knew nothing about the city and it was dark when we arrived.<span style=""> </span>We got some food, checked out some sights, and went to bed.<span style=""> </span>In the morning we took a 2-hour ferry to Sado Island, where we spent the next 2 days.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">On the ferry I tried Pachinko for the first time, and it really is a waste of money like people say.<span style=""> </span>You spin a knob, dictating how hard it will throw out balls, and they fall and slide into slots for prizes.<span style=""> </span>I was baffled at how such a boring mess could be so prevalent in Japan.<span style=""> </span>Though, they did have a cool Nintendo station set up, where you could choose from a number of games to play.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Once on the Island, we drove around for a while at first, and were always disappointed with any beaches we came across due to the unwieldy piles of concrete making the small patch of sand look ugly.<span style=""> </span></span>I was surprised with the Island though; it seemed rather empty.<span style=""> </span>We drove for hours trying to find restaurants sometimes.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I found it peaceful though, and I like I said, I was wrapped up in a book for most of it.<span style=""> </span>We made our way to Sado’s goldmine, and the tour was really neat.<span style=""> </span>We saw how they excavated the thing, and how they burrowed around looking for new gold veins among other things.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We stayed at a Ryokan that night, a Japanese style hotel.<span style=""> </span>I unfortunately <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgClzvIBDCqpWpRmHHE7xRlOnyf56d4wsVrXBYIy_Ur-6PXxjKJZzYwiMbWVhS7K99KxAqZxuz6_NmvSPwtRtoDqT9Fix4f9rnnXFwvEvhfv3DBKdURxiiJpbVXY6bhPHoTGlHMO18Ip0A/s1600/IMG_2327.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgClzvIBDCqpWpRmHHE7xRlOnyf56d4wsVrXBYIy_Ur-6PXxjKJZzYwiMbWVhS7K99KxAqZxuz6_NmvSPwtRtoDqT9Fix4f9rnnXFwvEvhfv3DBKdURxiiJpbVXY6bhPHoTGlHMO18Ip0A/s320/IMG_2327.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497056999755638354" border="0" /></a>haven’t stayed at them as much as I should have in the past, as not only do you stay with a wonderful family, but also they cook you amazing food made from local specialties.<span style=""> </span>We had a huge feast, and loved it all; weird cone shells, BBQ fish, sashimi and more.<span style=""> </span>It was interesting too; that we were eating for almost 2 hours and hardly noticed how the time had passed because we were enjoying it so much.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That night, we snuck out to the nearby harbor, where we lit off some fireworks Richard bought for a couple hours.<span style=""> </span>There was a wide variety, and it really was a lot of fun.<span style=""> </span>Some would spin in circles, while others propelled themselves in the air like helicopters before exploding.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The Ryokan made breakfast for us that Monday morning, and we went to the nearby tourist trap: “tarai-bune”, that looked like barrel boats.<span style=""> </span>Apparently they were invented around the time of the gold boom, and are very hard to navigate around with the wood paddle on the front.<span style=""> </span>Regardless we gave it a try and had lots of fun.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We spend the rest of the day at a local beach, having surrendered to the tetra pods for a chance to jump in the ocean.<span style=""> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc2axZQEzS6kKYL9hr0EYBvr8gBYRYU4xG_ApcMkOE1W_68tEu0plVIEm53L7-AC89cJk2x0Vlj9gPOVxLscnr6xaOfs8mpXD574O7aP83Qeq-6Etw7IdlxWIR23G1k3kbdvY3RxCG8dQ/s1600/IMG_2362.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc2axZQEzS6kKYL9hr0EYBvr8gBYRYU4xG_ApcMkOE1W_68tEu0plVIEm53L7-AC89cJk2x0Vlj9gPOVxLscnr6xaOfs8mpXD574O7aP83Qeq-6Etw7IdlxWIR23G1k3kbdvY3RxCG8dQ/s320/IMG_2362.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497057169489634418" border="0" /></a><span style=""> </span>I greased myself up heavily with sunscreen, but still got a bit burnt.<span style=""> </span>We had fun, relaxed as we splashed around, and started making the trip home.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On the ferry, over the ocean, we were treated to one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen.<span style=""> </span>Like Richard said, it was a perfect way to end the trip.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">"Most of today's worries are like puddles: tomorrow they will have evaporated." -Author Unknown <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">tnoy<o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-90403581759190630442010-07-12T08:28:00.000-07:002010-07-12T08:41:45.764-07:00The Cleaning CraziesIt feels like I’ve been cleaning for way too long.<span style=""> </span>For two weeks I tried giving stuff away, and while I made great progress, the many piles of remaining items were wearing me down so I started throwing out perfectly fine items wholesale; I didn’t want to be stuck with the hot potato. <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I haven’t had classes at Yayoi all week, so after coming in and doing everything needed, I was free to go home and continue cleaning… and go crazy.<span style=""> </span>On Wednesday I finally made my way to the dump expectin<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtfVjvFuG5Xv1KeZQqwjbhVNlRUgniRmDJjNN_zh_VZhRJMKIWaJZ40hIQ-R_ehbj-n5RCGWF5URu65JgcM3Ua1cEFnCtJDcPLYy9KgfiYjkSF2PCEXCsVqIWdZjzHDFz5_tPHeu4h-jc/s1600/CIMG1623.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtfVjvFuG5Xv1KeZQqwjbhVNlRUgniRmDJjNN_zh_VZhRJMKIWaJZ40hIQ-R_ehbj-n5RCGWF5URu65JgcM3Ua1cEFnCtJDcPLYy9KgfiYjkSF2PCEXCsVqIWdZjzHDFz5_tPHeu4h-jc/s320/CIMG1623.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493042745350135426" border="0" /></a>g the worst.<span style=""> </span>It wasn’t so bad though; every 10kg would cost me around $1.<span style=""> </span>I dumped 90kg that day, but discovered this dump only took large burnable garbage.<span style=""> </span>The large non-burnable dump was a ½ hour drive the other way, also neither would take my old car tires.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After seeking help at school, by calling the town office, we have one day every 2 months to dispose of said tires.<span style=""> </span>It would cost $4 a tire, a ½ hour drive into the next town over, Takato, and I only had 2 hours, from 9:00 to 11:00 on Sunday morning.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Well, there went any travel plans for the weekend; a group of folks were going to Nagoya to see a sumo tournament too.<span style=""> </span>On Friday, I got rid of another 120kg, but haven’t really touched my kitchen yet.<span style=""> </span>Brian came to stay at my place, and he helped me clean on Friday.<span style=""> </span>After loading my car with garbage, I loaded his van with stuff I gave him for free.<span style=""> </span>Though to make it up to me, he bought me lunch and made me breakfast a couple times.<span style=""> </span>Like the other stuff, I’m just happy I could find it a home instead of throwing it into a garbage pit, like that huge box of used clothes I gave up on finding a charity for.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Speaking of which, the burnable facility was like a huge concrete war bunker.<span style=""> </span>A monster claw would reach into its bowels, and dump it into the incinerator above.<span style=""> </span>I didn’t have my camera on me, but almost felt like I was in the Death Star.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That Friday night, Ike had a BBQ at his place.<span style=""> </span>I braved the rain to attend maybe his last party.<span style=""> </span>The lucky guy has someone moving in after him though, and hasn’t started cleaning yet.<span style=""> </span>We had burgers, guacamole, and other goodies while watching a movie made of nostalgia: “The Sandlot”.<span style=""> </span>While watching, I had very vague memories of watching it before.<span style=""> </span>I remember a quote about leaving nostalgia in the past, and while it’s true, it was still interesting seeing the movie again as an adult.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s getting harder to see off friends as well; as it becomes less likely I’ll ever see them again.<span style=""> </span>I stumbled across that while shaking Brian’s hand, though on Tuesday he’s gone to Hokkaido for a couple weeks.<span style=""> </span>Others are leaving on holidays within the next week or two; and I’m gone in 17 days.<span style=""> </span>On a quick side note, Brian taught me why it’s very bad manners to hand off food from one pair of chopsticks to the other; because that’s how the remains of cremated family members are handled. <span style=""> </span>Bones that aren’t ashes are picked and handed around to family members to fill the urn, and he took part in it one time.<span style=""> </span>Ghastly.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">What started as a farewell party from Richard's and my own Adult English Conversation Classes, this Wednesday may possibly be my one big farewell party.<span style=""> </span>Needless to say there is lots going on, and even more that needs to be done.<span style=""> </span>After I finished writing this, I filled out lots of paper work, and managed to prepare my farewell speech for the school that I’ll deliver on Friday.<span style=""> </span>Soon I’ll be living out of my suitcase in my own house, and possibly sleeping on the floor…</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With so much going through my mind, I tried to escape it all by going to Phil and Theresa’s BBQ in Okaya Saturday night after spending hours cleaning <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7fh9cwKFawkywasyKgdi4BMnO4FPPG7ynpqea4OV2gffjlaSZJxEL1kfJ9xtIgmITFMx5BVtILpk9C1lqj_GOl7_6b9JzXYLPuoLJB6C_xB7KB2YPst0Udts693iPpHiLgyutPUzDI74/s1600/IMG_2163.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7fh9cwKFawkywasyKgdi4BMnO4FPPG7ynpqea4OV2gffjlaSZJxEL1kfJ9xtIgmITFMx5BVtILpk9C1lqj_GOl7_6b9JzXYLPuoLJB6C_xB7KB2YPst0Udts693iPpHiLgyutPUzDI74/s320/IMG_2163.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493043982321202306" border="0" /></a>again.<span style=""> </span>It turned out to be a multi-purpose party for various people, and Theresa said it could be mine as well.<span style=""> </span>I had a bit of an embarrassing endeavor; I was cleaning out my freezer at this party too.<span style=""> </span>Throwing out perfectly fine stuff is one thing, throwing out perfectly fine food is another.<span style=""> </span>I brought a box of goodies though and Dougal took most of them off my hands including alcohol.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I had good talks with people, and bid many of them perhaps our final farewell.<span style=""> </span>Instead of getting easier, everything is just getting more confusing; with my mind constantly straying, and conversations sometimes going full circle back to the nightmare that is cleaning my house.<span style=""> </span>Perhaps this is my crutch for dealing with all this emotional turmoil; just keeping myself distracted on things that need to be done.<span style=""> </span>On that note I forgot my camera at Ike’s so I don’t really have (new) pictures for you.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sunday morning’s garbage run went successfully, and after I went to Honami’s potluck.<span style=""> </span>I made the last of my instant dressing, and some instant gravy, and put it into pots I gave away to her.<span style=""> </span>There was lots of food, and my odd inclusion was well received.<span style=""> </span>We chatted and enjoyed the light rain for hours; a nice lazy Sunday.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I couldn’t sit around for too long though, I had lots to do.<span style=""> </span>After bidding farewell I tried to give away one last thing to them; my monopoly board.<span style=""> </span>I had found it years ago but haven’t played it once in Japan oddly enough.<span style=""> </span>The entire campfire wasn’t interested the night before, and while Honami and her friend haven’t heard of the game, her husband jumped at the chance.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There are very few times in life when you can make someone that happy.<span style=""> </span>I was afraid he would start crying at some points, and I was happy to I could find the game a nice home, as opposed to someone’s closet.<span style=""> </span>I was assured they would play right away, so I’ll ask about it on Wednesday when I see them again.<span style=""> </span>I left with such a great feeling, knowing I just made a good person’s day great.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On the drive home I passed a store I heard had Takoyaki makers.<span style=""> </span>I definitely want to make some when I get home to Canada <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhl9uETpZYLYrnJABSNNuFZTBH5ymdaMmRl3hJ3KRM6s8Og2wJosX5XIDJKtRoHWqTopvlVmzeEDEzzGE7gA6CQdtT49HZsno8pAbABdKtaTd0cm4AzIEyG-nsxor-M61TgOF1Ma82E1U/s1600/IMG_2158.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhl9uETpZYLYrnJABSNNuFZTBH5ymdaMmRl3hJ3KRM6s8Og2wJosX5XIDJKtRoHWqTopvlVmzeEDEzzGE7gA6CQdtT49HZsno8pAbABdKtaTd0cm4AzIEyG-nsxor-M61TgOF1Ma82E1U/s320/IMG_2158.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493045390625172210" border="0" /></a>so I went in to pick one up.<span style=""> </span>Before I knew it, I changed my car's oil, and I made a trip to the dollar store too, to get my sister Melissa’s sushi plate, and thus the very awkward switch from “throw everything away” to “buy presents” was briefly made.<span style=""> </span>On the other hand, I don’t really know how much luggage space I have either.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I ended up stopping at 4 or 5 different stores, all of them perhaps for the last time.<span style=""> </span>As for buying presents, maybe I’ve been here so long that it has become much harder for me to pick things that stick out that you can’t find in Canada.<span style=""> </span>I even broke my personal rule and bought some cheap clothes at Uniqlo including a pair of pants that are just a bit too small; they are now my diet goal pants I guess, I’m down around 7kg.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Perhaps I’m just confused.<span style=""> </span>I know life is turmoil now, and I’m somehow getting by each day.<span style=""> </span>Now to make a farewell speech that’s good enough for its purpose, but won’t make me cry too much.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">"He who moves not forward, goes backward." -Johann Wolfgang von Goethe <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">tnoy</p> <!--EndFragment-->Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-66247262507876281082010-07-05T09:16:00.001-07:002010-07-05T09:26:05.935-07:00Fireflies, Festivals, and MovingLast week got away on me, what can I say?<span style=""> </span>But this way it’s a 2-week update so it works out.<span style=""> </span>It was firefly season again in Tatsuno, and I went out Tuesday and Thursday night.<span style=""> </span>I discovered my camera can do long exposures, so the photos I took were amazing.<span style=""> </span>Later we did even more by writing out “English” with our cell phone’s lights.<span style=""> </span>We chose that word because I happened to be joining Richard’s English Class. <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Speaking of which, I had my last class on Wednesday with them.<span style=""> </span>It was simply wonderful teaching the<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7VF9CXr8GwJMLsYCRMn08_L4Z9JIpudXnwtrnqpBVOPGFpZW66iA9BdQdT9Vfzw36l1EOF9dF-jhVSputerxsYMI7MeqJunCqswBi4f_6AVTw8VPIFpv05Q8nhpt89lmF0BzOMDjuiWc/s1600/IMG_2056.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7VF9CXr8GwJMLsYCRMn08_L4Z9JIpudXnwtrnqpBVOPGFpZW66iA9BdQdT9Vfzw36l1EOF9dF-jhVSputerxsYMI7MeqJunCqswBi4f_6AVTw8VPIFpv05Q8nhpt89lmF0BzOMDjuiWc/s320/IMG_2056.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490456944292611922" border="0" /></a>m, as it’s great having students actively want to learn and try hard.<span style=""> </span>I wanted to finish the class with a game, but they were too involved in some other activities I had prepared for them.<span style=""> </span>I love it when they take sometime I give them, and run with it, surprising me with ways the lesson can go; like it has its own life.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On Thursday many of the other JETs were suppose to see the fireflies, but I accidentally confused them so other events unfolded.<span style=""> </span>I wanted to stay in Tatsuno after school to save me the trip, but had time to kill before sunset.<span style=""> </span>The idea hit me: why don’t I finally climb that hill I’ve stared at almost every day for the last 3 years?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Michelle came with me, but no one else; some thought they had to be early for the hill if they wanted to see the fireflies after; miscommunications are common in English as well.<span style=""> </span>Although Uchiyama Sensei told me her asthmatic 7 year-old daughter could climb that hill in 40 minutes, it took us almost an hour.<span style=""> </span>I really am in terrible shape; the heat and humidity didn’t help.<span style=""> </span>It was quite pretty though, and Michelle even saw a couple foxes in the bush on the way up.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">At the top, I finally got a glimpse of Tatsuno from up high.<span style=""> </span>It was really spectacular.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8uf6DJKuwhDL1Wl-FMLLL3mnpWTkLVFIdPiJOduUBld6mh4pIYZBrG24S0JWnZBPlXCjYAyhjriUQnm2NMQGJ-Flh4MOipBC8OSeLLYrhyTNFV_UEykWKW6vBE8gtYYWsDebRHLpdlFQ/s1600/IMG_2095.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8uf6DJKuwhDL1Wl-FMLLL3mnpWTkLVFIdPiJOduUBld6mh4pIYZBrG24S0JWnZBPlXCjYAyhjriUQnm2NMQGJ-Flh4MOipBC8OSeLLYrhyTNFV_UEykWKW6vBE8gtYYWsDebRHLpdlFQ/s320/IMG_2095.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490457202781087410" border="0" /></a><span style=""> </span>We were then treated to a fire-red sky as the sun set, and we stayed long enough to see the lights of the city fire up.<span style=""> </span>We ate our supper and fought bugs, but it was totally worth it.<span style=""> </span>If I should go again, I’ll just drive to the top next time, as there was a house and parking lot right up there to our surprise.<span style=""> </span>Apparently if you go further down another path, you’ll come to a marker that states the geographic center of Japan.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Following Michelle’s phone light, we were able to make our way down.<span style=""> </span>Exhausted, our firefly tour was rather short, especially with everyone else canceling out.<span style=""> </span>I still got nice photos of the place though.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On Friday Yayoi started its school festival.<span style=""> </span>I was a slow riser, still feeling depressed, and spent a couple hours cleaning, and posting a list of things in my house to give away.<span style=""> </span>For most people they have someone move into their house once their gone, but for me there is no-one, so I have much more, and much harder, things to get rid of.<span style=""> </span>Most of it would be a waste to chuck, so the term “sale” was optional.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Eventually I made it out to our festival, but on the first day it was like years prior.<span style=""> </span>The students did dance competitions by the different classes, had contests like who are the best couple, and which boys are the prettiest girls and so on.<span style=""> </span>Later they had more competitions out in the yard.<span style=""> </span>I had Eel for lunch at a local restaurant, and it was fantastic.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I was in the area because<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm0I6N9drkO3RM78oxEJ0EVZgeYEY7whnoxDDn1_jKEl1YUnni_S1gAU3k_CGd0XkqYRyquWpBm5MfOL67eB7eG92350-LId7ZHgeUhn-ibjs4yKNY4YxMExyHcqZh5THnVcQz0OKs_Oc/s1600/IMG_2123.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm0I6N9drkO3RM78oxEJ0EVZgeYEY7whnoxDDn1_jKEl1YUnni_S1gAU3k_CGd0XkqYRyquWpBm5MfOL67eB7eG92350-LId7ZHgeUhn-ibjs4yKNY4YxMExyHcqZh5THnVcQz0OKs_Oc/s320/IMG_2123.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490457819359432882" border="0" /></a> I had mailed a DVD of pictures and movies that I (finally) made for Ann.<span style=""> </span>She applied again to visit Canada, and again they denied her; perhaps another reason I was feeling so down.<span style=""> </span>I’m still ashamed of how she was treated at the embassy, but things happen for a reason.<span style=""> </span>Instead of going to Canada this summer, she found a school to be certified as a Nanny, so really things will work out better this way; she will be able to stay and work for a long time instead of just going on a trip with me for a month around the West.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On Saturday, June 26<sup>th</sup>, the festival really kicked off… though it rained all day.<span style=""> </span>I spent a couple hours in the morning cataloguing all the books in my house for the interested people and their emails that started to flood my inbox.<span style=""> </span>After, I spent a couple hours with my students enjoying their festival despite the rain, and even met up with Sorin as he has the same teacher for his Tea Ceremony.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That night was spent cleaning and organizing, for Sunday was the last day of the festival.<span style=""> </span>One class made a large atomic bomb dome model, complete with the Enola Gay in the corner. Again it was fun despite raining in the morning, and the students danced around the huge fire and wrestled in the mud like last year.<span style=""> </span>I didn’t join them this time though.<span style=""> </span>On Monday when I should have been writing a blog entry, I was busy at the Handicapped school because the day was spent cleaning at Yayoi.<span style=""> </span>We made lesson plans for Wednesday, and I went home to relax; I didn’t know that would be my only free time that week.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The rest of the week was havoc.<span style=""> </span>On Tuesday I had tests to correct and hours of emails to catch up on.<span style=""> </span>After work I was busy cleaning and preparing if I remember <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQQ8U92LM0LvwGSJieZYU6O0vSI-dCjIWPaLnzm3XaTg6MpXcYLo9Z77UrsDw-E5wezjkHjx17UMyNsqMgjuW7Y_nrRJLk1lwEUv1QtgMxAihqd7kFYS11R5T15_wgri0kGmOOZNFLGA/s1600/IMG_2127.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQQ8U92LM0LvwGSJieZYU6O0vSI-dCjIWPaLnzm3XaTg6MpXcYLo9Z77UrsDw-E5wezjkHjx17UMyNsqMgjuW7Y_nrRJLk1lwEUv1QtgMxAihqd7kFYS11R5T15_wgri0kGmOOZNFLGA/s320/IMG_2127.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490457977985179618" border="0" /></a>right, as everything was coming together for a big trip on Thursday.<span style=""> </span>On Wednesday I went for sushi with Kayo and Richard.<span style=""> </span>It was great to catch up again, I don’t think I’ve seen her since Onbashira; needless to say the Canada holiday is still up in the air.<span style=""> </span>Both of them helped pick through my house and prepare my car for the big trip Thursday.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After a busy day at work, I drove straight to Matsumoto with a car absolutely full of stuff for 5 different people.<span style=""> </span>Neal took my TV stand, while a cool guy named Trevor from Montreal took some other things.<span style=""> </span>We ended up talking for almost an hour as Neal was busy tutoring.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The next stop I met a great guy from Uzbekistan.<span style=""> </span>He was taking stuff for his sister in Nagano, things like my dresser, bookshelves and more; another great conversation with another cool guy.<span style=""> </span>The last 2 people were American, and didn’t seem to want to talk much.<span style=""> </span>We met, exchanged goods like books for one, and electric blankets for the other.<span style=""> </span>The whole thing took over 5 hours but worked like clockwork.<span style=""> </span>I’m still shocked how well everything went, and feel great my stuff found a new home as apposed to a dumpster.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On Friday our block had a farewell party for leavers like me at the Nepalese restaurant where we had our welcome party.<span style=""> </span>I was still exhausted, and not sleeping so well recently because of the heat, but we still had fun.<span style=""> </span>On Saturday Sorin had an event to celebrate Australian Christmas, which they apparently have in July.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For it, he had prepared <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMiUtqzoAUhvvpjv82ItKMhVMxzy-nV3d_QP5XQcrG3X5sqWvkLIEtDsQpnoTjoP9aQt6Jbf_HN6Hu4a5oNeorRXMnnU-HobrCVExKbKElK6sbwCRk3GqFgugRQmJCuv94dFUlv8uw9p8/s1600/IMG_2152.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMiUtqzoAUhvvpjv82ItKMhVMxzy-nV3d_QP5XQcrG3X5sqWvkLIEtDsQpnoTjoP9aQt6Jbf_HN6Hu4a5oNeorRXMnnU-HobrCVExKbKElK6sbwCRk3GqFgugRQmJCuv94dFUlv8uw9p8/s320/IMG_2152.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490458655817832178" border="0" /></a>over 10kg of sausages that were BBQed, and cut lengthwise to make them flat; Aussie style?<span style=""> </span>In short, it was a sausage on a bun, and delicious as sausage from the Brazilian store is.<span style=""> </span>What he also made were some Kangaroo meatballs.<span style=""> </span>For most people this was their first time, but it was my 3<sup>rd</sup> now, and the meat tasted really dry for some reason this time.<span style=""> </span>I still liked it though.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After Molly came over and helped clean out my house by taking some futons and kitchen items.<span style=""> </span>Later still, Dan and his wife came to claim even more items, and we chatted about all kinds of stuff for a couple hours before we had to go to the party up North.<span style=""> </span>Craig and Lauren were hosting a “North American Day” party, a mix of Canada day and Independence Day.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">He BBQed some amazing pork chops, Dougal made Tacos, and there were other foods there too.<span style=""> </span>I figured I’d bring some “Canadian Culture” by making Poutine for the first time.<span style=""> </span>Using the gravy my mom gave me, I helped put the poutine together; though I didn’t really do much other than direct how it was to be assembled.<span style=""> </span>Needless to say it was a huge hit, and interesting how all the Americans there had never heard of Poutine before, I guess I can’t blame them.<span style=""> </span>Next time I should try and bring ketchup chips.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sunday was a day of cleaning.<span style=""> </span>Everything was a big mess in my house, as the missing bookshelves and dressers left everything tossed on the floor.<span style=""> </span>I meticulously went over everything, and though I’d hate to throw a lot of the stuff away, I need to get realistic about leaving.<span style=""> </span>In the end I filled 2 large non-burnable bags, 2 huge burnable bags, and a plastic bag.<span style=""> </span>(for those confused, you have to sort your garbage in Japan, it’s really annoying, especially knowing the plastic is going to be burnt anyways)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Because I had so much and garbage day was Tuesday, I put a bag out in the box so it was ready.<span style=""> </span>This morning I saw the bag was ripped open and rummaged<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFuC-_86lmdPgUUeCAzsywl6kJ0Bc1Vw_mVgjk5gd8bDB9ioHGODcBLp26AJOpqxmVLMdNZCDBKSDAUxenF0_KComVAHF3ImwQUdr42oEt0gK_qusepk7g88tAsnHxc_PPbVcYwtcQQLI/s1600/IMG_2160.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFuC-_86lmdPgUUeCAzsywl6kJ0Bc1Vw_mVgjk5gd8bDB9ioHGODcBLp26AJOpqxmVLMdNZCDBKSDAUxenF0_KComVAHF3ImwQUdr42oEt0gK_qusepk7g88tAsnHxc_PPbVcYwtcQQLI/s320/IMG_2160.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490458929707415298" border="0" /></a> through and was confused; it couldn’t have been animals, as there was no food in there.<span style=""> </span>Actually it was much worse; a nosy neighbor.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I have heard about “garbage police” and “garbage Nazis” from other JETs before, but I guess my Japanese experience would be incomplete without having dealt with them.<span style=""> </span>It was just one obviously bored guy with too much time that called my school to lecture them for a while and cause trouble.<span style=""> </span>I almost felt a bit violated that he rummaged through my garbage really, and took out things like bills I threw away.<span style=""> </span>This garbage was to be burnt, not be looked at by neighbors.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Long story short, after he finally went away, I took my garbage back home, so I can put it back there tomorrow; and I fully expect him to watch me like a hawk while I do it.<span style=""> </span>I apologized to my supervisor and office worker who got the brunt of his lecture for me, as the pieces of what he said that I understood were not very good.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Of course I’m not going to finish this on a low note, so let’s jump back to Sunday night.<span style=""> </span>I was at home, exhausted from cleaning for hours, and didn’t really want to go out.<span style=""> </span>Richard was asking, and later Ike proposed a BBQ at his house.<span style=""> </span>Well that sounds awesome, why not?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">From a local pub in town, Ike gets hundreds of dollars of free beer.<span style=""> </span>He gets them because they “expire” and it’s illegal to sell.<span style=""> </span>It all tasted good to us, and I polished off 4 big bottles by myself.<span style=""> </span>Ike made burgers, Stephen made Guacamole for the chips, and after we all ate smores.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was just a beautiful night and the company was wonderful.<span style=""> </span>We did some reflections, as Ike, Jessie and I will leave soon, and Molly and Stephen, the two new people, were picking up advice we’ve accumulated<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF4j8q87uMWJbzGax4Du1ZKsVBurrx7cZuKiQht-HgOzr4X-VUXGAZRLhyphenhyphen8zHJKDRdVBWpRzZg70fuP6onhWe4TvBX6k0cKms8VXUFO3YrFyq12l_rjYUkYNlrQvwcanGCYltUdTW75TI/s1600/IMG_2076.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF4j8q87uMWJbzGax4Du1ZKsVBurrx7cZuKiQht-HgOzr4X-VUXGAZRLhyphenhyphen8zHJKDRdVBWpRzZg70fuP6onhWe4TvBX6k0cKms8VXUFO3YrFyq12l_rjYUkYNlrQvwcanGCYltUdTW75TI/s320/IMG_2076.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490459193758590450" border="0" /></a> over the years.<span style=""> </span>It was not unlike elders gathered around the fire teaching the young the ways of the world, yet we are still learning all the time.<span style=""> </span>Ike discovered he could buy a BBQ only a month or two ago.<span style=""> </span>It took me over 2 years to feel like I’ve finally “moved in” to Japan.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My flight is confirmed though; I’ll be in Vancouver on July 29<sup>th</sup>.<span style=""> </span>I’ll stay with my sister in Victoria for a while before going to Regina; it’s looking like I won’t do that road trip anymore.<span style=""> </span>Only about 3 weeks left to top off the best years of my life.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">"Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment." -Buddha <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">tnoy<o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-82078366747581537562010-06-21T06:51:00.000-07:002010-06-21T07:14:02.163-07:00Picking up the PiecesIt's hard to believe how difficult this past week has been. I had literally put everything out of the way to spend time with Ann, and her departure left a big hole. Of course there is lots to do and get done, and in retrospect I've done alot, there are still many errands to complete. I've cleaned up my house quite well despite it having turned into a bachelor pad again, and even started giving stuff away.
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<br />Neal, Richard and Ike were over Friday night for some burgers, fries and salad. Ike the master chef made many wonderful things that we enjoyed while watching a movie. Neal came over early and we had a good chat, one of the topics being the recent trouble Ann has had trying to get a tourist Visa to visit Canada. I don't want to get into particulars, <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIn2O8vmcsDvBGxMdPpJ1-UJJ-8TMJ1wlgqlm0PQwLXzI7u-u9FK8YK_bLZiYVu0Qd7dIqsBgN-jn3oefrq7u8TRXY7m7P_KaTLPqYJEMEG7Y0lfC7HMLMJqhdFGcYakvrwafBpW15Iyw/s1600/IMG_2026.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIn2O8vmcsDvBGxMdPpJ1-UJJ-8TMJ1wlgqlm0PQwLXzI7u-u9FK8YK_bLZiYVu0Qd7dIqsBgN-jn3oefrq7u8TRXY7m7P_KaTLPqYJEMEG7Y0lfC7HMLMJqhdFGcYakvrwafBpW15Iyw/s320/IMG_2026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485229192087708658" border="0" /></a>but let's just say we're all baffled she came to Japan with less trouble than it is to try and visit Canada.
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<br />The rest of the weekend was spent at home. I want to write down things I got done, but that's an even shorter list. I ordered some pizza, watched some movies like Toy Story and Finding Nemo, and even watched some youtube videos of video games I've always wanted to play but never will have time. Games like Dwarf Fortress and X-Com. Atleast I have a feel for the gameplay and story now, and saved myself potential weeks from playing it myself. A small victory perhaps.
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<br />It really does feel like I'm picking up pieces from a calamity. Alas it's not the end of the world, and if we can't meet up again in Canada, maybe I can get a job in another country that will allow her to visit me again; but those are thoughts for another time. Today I talked with my supervisor about canceling bills and other things I need to finalize before going home; many of those things require 1 month notice to their respective companies.
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<br />Life goes on right? There is much to do.
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<br />tnoy
<br />Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-63142598962591394132010-06-14T07:34:00.000-07:002010-06-14T08:13:19.376-07:00See You Again SoonThings calmed down a lot after USJ, as our time together was winding down.<span style=""> </span>On Friday June 4<sup>th</sup>, there was a leaver’s conference in Nagano City.<span style=""> </span>Ashley was a sweetheart for letting us come up Thursday to stay over, and I got Ann to play Mario Galaxy for the first time.<span style=""> </span>It was an entertaining evening, while Ashely and Chris worked hard to prep for that weekend’s English camp. <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">While I was at the meeting, Ann walked around the neighborhood, and did some final shopping, getting presents for her friends.<span style=""> </span>The meeting itself was really informative <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBumSiql9bkmpipudiABTGF50qI6_7lHwwy-XIhf25tURyZ7AyxnGf3uEZLltCawGJMcrhf_WRz6dU6TCqsUOdkgAkkijYEspvLzn9sNn3PFWuVYi5n91tJBKieqXU7txYn2LPC9__-oU/s1600/IMG_1983.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBumSiql9bkmpipudiABTGF50qI6_7lHwwy-XIhf25tURyZ7AyxnGf3uEZLltCawGJMcrhf_WRz6dU6TCqsUOdkgAkkijYEspvLzn9sNn3PFWuVYi5n91tJBKieqXU7txYn2LPC9__-oU/s320/IMG_1983.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482639897135338098" border="0" /></a>and interesting, and I got handouts to help me during my last… wow only 7 weeks until I’m in Canada again.<span style=""> </span>Anyways, they’ll help with the transition; everything from canceling bills, to garbage disposal, to help on claiming my pension when I get home.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">People had a chance to give stories about their time in Japan, and most were touching.<span style=""> </span>Many came down to the basic: ‘we’re all human’, and how understanding that is the first step towards world peace.<span style=""> </span>In the end they played a slideshow of photos from over the years, and while I may not have recognized all of the people, it was clear we all shared something wonderful here together.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That night would be our farewell party at the infamous smile hotel, where we also have <a href="http://aschoenroth.blogspot.com/2007/09/typhoon-aftermath-i-survived.html">our welcome parties</a>, and I marveled at the help-yourself alcohol section.<span style=""> </span>Many parties were held here over the years, and over 70 people attended.<span style=""> </span>Ann came along, and we all ate and drank for hours.<span style=""> </span>Of course with that many people, it was loud and a little crazy, but it was a great chance to say goodbye to many people.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For some reason though, many events were scheduled the next day, so many people had a bit of restraint.<span style=""> </span>For the CIRs: a training session.<span style=""> </span>For some people, soccer for some reason, though I’m not sure why people want to get together and jog circles around a little ball for hours; is this really a sport?<span style=""> </span>For us, we went to Sugadaira for the prefectural English camp, like I attended last year.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://aschoenroth.blogspot.com/2009/06/goats-be-racin.html">Unlike last year however</a>, when I played Telephone with kids for the first 3 hours, we had a complex and confusing murder mystery.<span style=""> </span>Poor Neal and I struggled through the first few groups, before streamlining <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP3kaNvVoQV_wqxBqabCIWzmY4JsKgAGIewRrhqYlgdULigKQMN9vWwRgbVfLZm4ImD_udwHwPOFjtODom8Oe_elx1GG_u-Mz1dacCz-4UyfkzoP3T_DsGjFCIq5PSQnDafXH9CJiNvRY/s1600/IMG_2001.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP3kaNvVoQV_wqxBqabCIWzmY4JsKgAGIewRrhqYlgdULigKQMN9vWwRgbVfLZm4ImD_udwHwPOFjtODom8Oe_elx1GG_u-Mz1dacCz-4UyfkzoP3T_DsGjFCIq5PSQnDafXH9CJiNvRY/s320/IMG_2001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482640171663154658" border="0" /></a>it heavily, and drawing up many conclusions for the students to ponder.<span style=""> </span>Basically, we did the math and gave answers, while getting the students to check the work.<span style=""> </span>Even with doing that, it was a struggle to complete on time, but later we heard some students enjoyed that game the best, so it wasn’t all in vain.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ann was a helper, running around and making sure everything went smoothly.<span style=""> </span>I had hoped she would warm up to the students here more after her disappointing teaching session in Tatsuno, where she was shocked and appalled not only at students sleeping in class, but the ones who weren’t would stare at you and say nothing.<span style=""> </span>I admit it’s not an easy job here, and that particular class is maybe the worst I’ve ever had to teach, ever.<span style=""> </span>In fact by comparison, that class they were really good, instead of talking non-stop while you’re teaching; like I said early, I’m glad they didn’t disrespect my mom and Ann too much.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Maybe I’m getting off topic here though, Ann was sad students didn’t try to talk to her, or wave or anything when they passed in the hallway.<span style=""> </span>I’ve never really thought about it, but that is really true.<span style=""> </span>I’ve always been energetic enough to try and engage them, but most times I need to do the engaging.<span style=""> </span>Ann is a bit shy with new people maybe.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I think she enjoyed the second part though, when students had presentations.<span style=""> </span>They talked about various things, and the theme was music.<span style=""> </span>One group had everyone stand up and do the Chicken Dance, so it became Ann’s favourite, along with many other students.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That night there was a ‘teacher’s meeting’, or more specifically, a drinking party.<span style=""> </span>We saw students eyeing up the beer vending machine in the hallway, so maybe that’s why it was turned off.<span style=""> </span>A quick survey in the morning revealed the average time the kids went to sleep at was around 3 in the morning, and I wouldn’t doubt some didn’t sleep at all.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We had one last fun game to play, and I didn’t want to play that word game again like last year.<span style=""> </span>Instead, I remembered <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_xth2qyLw_vDD_QjkImUMnZ3PkkJhrHRxXZWQ51ClHO2ffvkB0Dua8fRE33mBvzIIMZA91vph4Bxpb6Ow5a8lnViJj2wTw-m50dYZ5QpZzpgw7GgoE8jt8YNNglBS7anwXV9yqyEQJfU/s1600/IMG_1966.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_xth2qyLw_vDD_QjkImUMnZ3PkkJhrHRxXZWQ51ClHO2ffvkB0Dua8fRE33mBvzIIMZA91vph4Bxpb6Ow5a8lnViJj2wTw-m50dYZ5QpZzpgw7GgoE8jt8YNNglBS7anwXV9yqyEQJfU/s320/IMG_1966.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482642757090809138" border="0" /></a>a childhood favourite: “What time is it Mr. Wolf?”<span style=""> </span>The students all ask one student at the opposite side what time it is.<span style=""> </span>Whatever time it is, that’s how many steps everyone takes together, until finally the wolf screams “dinner time!”<span style=""> </span>Whoever he touches becomes the new wolf.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Of course there is a bit more to it, but that’s the basics.<span style=""> </span>I wasn’t thinking clearly maybe, and we played near a cliff.<span style=""> </span>While chasing a student, I simply ran into it, and luckily didn’t lose control otherwise it could have been bad.<span style=""> </span>For the most part, I think everyone had fun, and even Ann joined in a bit.<span style=""> </span>When there were no students, we joined a nearby group playing a Frisbee game.<span style=""> </span>They alternated the English activities quite a bit, so it was always fun and engaging.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The students went back at noon, and we started the long 3-hour drive home.<span style=""> </span>I wanted to stop in Matsumoto to show Ann the castle, but she was exhausted and content with having seen the one in Hiroshima.<span style=""> </span>I gave a ride to Wulf too, and we had interesting talks all the way, while enjoying the beautiful day and surroundings.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now it was Ann’s last week in Japan, and I picked my camera up after getting repaired on warranty.<span style=""> </span>I wanted to cook for Ann before she took off.<span style=""> </span>What started off as simple, aimless spaghetti quickly grew to one of my favourite childhood dishes: Tomato Soup and Noodles.<span style=""> </span>While I wanted Ann to eat it as it was, she quickly added one thing after another.<span style=""> </span>First it was hot chilly peppers.<span style=""> </span>Later, pepper, and then basil, and then even some seafood.</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">At first I was very taken aback she would alter this simple dish that I love so much, but she was really on to something amazing.<span style=""> </span>Before I knew it, she had eaten way more than me, and could hardly move.<span style=""> </span>Somehow by accident, I had made her one of the best meals she has ever eaten, and I’m happy I was able to do that for her.<span style=""> </span>Pasta is extremely simple and cheap, and can be used in so many ways; apparently that was one of her first times using it for anything, Linguini that is.<span style=""> </span>Another day, I cooked her some of my lemon chicken in the oven.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Wednesday was class match day at Yayoi.<span style=""> </span>For those who don’t remember, the whole school shuts down, and classes are divided into teams to play various sports against each other.<span style=""> </span>This time there was badminton, volleyball for girls only, and softball for the boys.<span style=""> </span>I was drafted onto the teacher’s team.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It has been years since I played, and naturally my skills dwindled a lot.<span style=""> </span>Luckily I was back-catcher, so I didn’t have to run much.<span style=""> </span>We won two games, but lost the 3<sup>rd</sup> around noon, retiring our careers.<span style=""> </span>I did ok at bat, though my first 5 hits were all caught, I got an RBI later on, then in the last game the referee was terrible and I struck out somehow.<span style=""> </span>I know that sounds biased, but I watched his calls on other players; balls whizzing by at eye-level were counted as ‘strikes’.<span style=""> </span>Oh well, it was all for fun I guess.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ann came to watch one of the games, but was delayed because she called the Canadian Embassy in Thailand.<span style=""> </span>We’re working on her coming to visit, but are unsure of the documents required, as it seems more complicated than it was coming to Japan.<span style=""> </span>Unfortunately <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD__EJ9nJMl3qJl5MqVKsxS-fzi0uJqNzLEagvbJsuUDgfbw9FmlkL3Fu_MOFmPBmdxVvUwv3LN3wXzb6IIshQZD72WkI_ett3Y7JrLmDEDjoWzZW_8IzRw-FNym_yZwsF1SyQs41zY4c/s1600/IMG_1945.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD__EJ9nJMl3qJl5MqVKsxS-fzi0uJqNzLEagvbJsuUDgfbw9FmlkL3Fu_MOFmPBmdxVvUwv3LN3wXzb6IIshQZD72WkI_ett3Y7JrLmDEDjoWzZW_8IzRw-FNym_yZwsF1SyQs41zY4c/s320/IMG_1945.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482638966366070610" border="0" /></a>after struggling with those horribly inane automatic phone systems for 30 minutes, and after actually getting to talk to a living person, she was less than helpful; I guess Ann will have to go there in person to get information, as the website is fairly complicated and vague.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For the baseball she did see though, she had a great time, though was sad it was over so quick.<span style=""> </span>Because there were so many teams, 4 games were occurring simultaneously, and had a 20-minute cap.<span style=""> </span>We still had fun, and went for Chinese food for lunch.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">From the baseball and the heat, I was exhausted; I slept for 2 hours when I got home.<span style=""> </span>When I woke up, I dawdled a bit trying to wake up, cooked some supper, and went to my English class.<span style=""> </span>I made Mushroom Soup and Noodles this time, my first time attempting it.<span style=""> </span>I think it came out well, and I was partially hoping lightning would strike twice like with the tomato soup.<span style=""> </span>Perhaps it did, as when I came home Ann seemed plenty happy about it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On Thursday we met up with Sorin for some sushi, so he could say farewell to Ann.<span style=""> </span>On Friday we had her farewell party in Okaya, where Mervin told us of a new buffet restaurant.<span style=""> </span>Ironically, this was a healthy buffet should such a thing even exist.<span style=""> </span>They had tofu hamburgers, whole grain rice, soymilk ice cream and more; it was still good though.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We made our way back to Mervin’s for some video games, and played Pictionary.<span style=""> </span>I marveled at Ann’s growing ability to read, as a few short months ago she struggled a lot, but apparently my compliment came out wrong.<span style=""> </span>Ann’s team won, but we all had fun. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On Saturday,<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFUQu32msgpvK_halc2O47_wlEGthILVQ6Yo822Ndl0nQJ-TWdz162maLrnNcXhbiSEI_SGdtqRK04UxctA-5xF775XnLRADiMzOU4kEsTVVtxomWsllHhP5uQk-0Pv5qTWat7yXdZAfI/s1600/IMG_1962.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFUQu32msgpvK_halc2O47_wlEGthILVQ6Yo822Ndl0nQJ-TWdz162maLrnNcXhbiSEI_SGdtqRK04UxctA-5xF775XnLRADiMzOU4kEsTVVtxomWsllHhP5uQk-0Pv5qTWat7yXdZAfI/s320/IMG_1962.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482639608998379762" border="0" /></a> half the people had to leave, while more people came to see Ann off, and to try out her Thai cooking.<span style=""> </span>I told her to expect around 7 people, but she had enough for the 9 that came.<span style=""> </span>It was one amazing dish after another, and we all joked about taking turns sponsoring Ann’s next visa so she could move in and cook.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Thi went so far as to claim she would better appreciate Ann than I, as I had never seen the pumpkin dessert she made before.<span style=""> </span>It was sweet and creamy, and simply delicious.<span style=""> </span>There was soup, curry, salad, fish, noodles and more, and all of it healthy and delicious.<span style=""> </span>I think we all walked away with a different favourite dish.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Many more people said goodbye, and some even brought presents for her.<span style=""> </span>We later drove back to Ina to try and play mallet golf one last time, but were disappointingly out of luck, as they don’t take on new golfers past 3:00.<span style=""> </span>Undeterred, we went to the obstacle course again and enjoyed the park, and surrounding nature.<span style=""> </span>This was Ann’s first time on a seesaw.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dypLw_5T09Ioe0TCWfhARTwMIO-bjXYl3TdV16Di_0ex2-VPxk4ZTk9g8acJOvtf78F0FisxoTCzcrmYaUXdw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Around 6 we all parted ways, and Ann and I went for sushi one last time.<span style=""> </span>She even took some of the wasabi packets to bring home as presents, a marvelous idea really.<span style=""> </span>We tried to watch a movie, but she fell asleep, exhausted from the busy day, and lack of sleep the night before.<span style=""> </span>It’s now hot enough that I need the fan on for me to fall asleep anymore.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Lacking ingredients<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZIcXhZK0bPZtnXAbzjA7DCXh01B4jb6iTcdKE2Y-pUa7j5sLR42W6Cpkc3krfTMcwxnGUWFRH1znLjNFHygKANA7BQs004ScovudtNRghZ6pBXOk6_R3iHNKH56tX7N9QSbJpH8KAfPk/s1600/IMG_2005.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZIcXhZK0bPZtnXAbzjA7DCXh01B4jb6iTcdKE2Y-pUa7j5sLR42W6Cpkc3krfTMcwxnGUWFRH1znLjNFHygKANA7BQs004ScovudtNRghZ6pBXOk6_R3iHNKH56tX7N9QSbJpH8KAfPk/s320/IMG_2005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482640360433416194" border="0" /></a> in the morning, I still was able to make a nice omelet for breakfast before getting on the bus to Tokyo.<span style=""> </span>During our trip, I tried to whip together a DVD of pictures for her, but was thwarted by a dead battery.<span style=""> </span>Considering how much I was trying to do though, it’s good that the computer lasted as long as it did; I’m just sad I didn’t bring my charger to complete it at the airport.<span style=""> </span>I had 10% battery left, but the compilation simply killed the remaining power, so close to the finish line.<span style=""> </span>I’ll have to mail it to her later.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We had lunch, checked in her luggage, and spent our last ½ hour together on the roof patio, watching planes take off.<span style=""> </span>Yesterday, Ann went home.<span style=""> </span>It was a rough 12-hour transit to and from the airport, and a reluctant parting.<span style=""> </span>We had hugged and embraced enough in that last hour, that she was able to go a little earlier, saying she didn’t want to start crying.<span style=""> </span>I didn’t either.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In her 3 months here, I have heard her English getting better and better, and listened as her answer to “How do you like Japan?” slowly change from “so so” to “really good” to “I Looooove Japan!”<span style=""> </span>Some of her experiences rivaled that of other teachers, such as seeing a baseball game, or visiting Hiroshima. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I kept myself mentally occupied during the long commute<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbEpDBVx1VBVskerwKn7333eQfNQFzC5pda3r6Bc8ypxVffUPQcaiusmGeE1XOeLl1lKsEpWB7hwpqgcvbLfh_w9pV0wBYDGX_WaNcHeGOSBgB6xLt7nAnjmdV-YncynNSkftsFigSRrg/s1600/IMG_2021.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbEpDBVx1VBVskerwKn7333eQfNQFzC5pda3r6Bc8ypxVffUPQcaiusmGeE1XOeLl1lKsEpWB7hwpqgcvbLfh_w9pV0wBYDGX_WaNcHeGOSBgB6xLt7nAnjmdV-YncynNSkftsFigSRrg/s320/IMG_2021.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482641641741562946" border="0" /></a> home, forcing myself to think of other things; job hunting, packing, saying goodbye myself, and the fun we will have together in Canada.<span style=""> </span>I talked with Neal later on the phone, and it hit home when he asked me about Ann: “she’s… gone” was about all I could muster in my speechlessness.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I got a call from her past 1 in the morning, so I assume she got home safe.<span style=""> </span>All she said in her message was “I miss you.”<span style=""> </span>When I go home today, her shoes won’t be there, nor her big smile, nor her warm hugs.<span style=""> </span>What will be there, are thousands of warm memories in my heart.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m happy that in our short time together, we were able to see and share many things.<span style=""> </span>I was able to share with her my love of this great place, and we were able to share our love for each other.<span style=""> </span>Soon, Canada will be our next, new adventure.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">"Many things in life will catch your eye, few will catch your heart. Pursue those!" -Author Unknown <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">tnoy</p> <!--EndFragment-->Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-38332598681349185652010-06-07T06:58:00.000-07:002010-06-07T07:48:42.158-07:00Hiroshima Again, and Osaka AdventuresThe drive was long, the rain was torrential, and the highway was terribly expensive (over $130 for one way), but to experience this amazing place again made it all worthwhile.<span style=""> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOalIIu1jQUgaVUhP6YIumpfXtTlso7IlM4qst1zfIL9tBDJaQSOHsGARWGvtEJCnIqooWP6Yhmz_HPm_IX3X8Rg082gAeZBbkkYjo37RLz_IJr3qC9btI6M4VjHh1gfp5lX_f-2aWho0/s1600/IMG_1880.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOalIIu1jQUgaVUhP6YIumpfXtTlso7IlM4qst1zfIL9tBDJaQSOHsGARWGvtEJCnIqooWP6Yhmz_HPm_IX3X8Rg082gAeZBbkkYjo37RLz_IJr3qC9btI6M4VjHh1gfp5lX_f-2aWho0/s320/IMG_1880.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480032708702930930" border="0" /></a><span style=""> </span>It was also Ann’s first trip there.<span style=""> </span>I suppose it falls into one of my “must see places before you die” should I be pressed to make a list, as its message of peace is unmistakable. <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My time is running out; it looks like I might be back in Canada around July 29<sup>th</sup> when my Visa expires, and so is Ann, as she leaves this Sunday the 13<sup>th</sup>.<span style=""> </span>They say to make a list of things you want to do before you leave, as it helps with closure, and I definitely didn’t mind <a href="http://aschoenroth.blogspot.com/2008/04/somber-reminder-of-simple-message.html">going back to Hiroshima.</a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Our first day wasn’t very eventful, as we were tired from the drive, and it was still pouring outside.<span style=""> </span>We got supper at a sushi conveyor restaurant, marveled at its freshness, and went to sleep.<span style=""> </span>It’s funny that Ann still prefers the restaurant in Ina even after eating fresh(er) sushi, but I can’t blame her as it’s still my favourite place to go too.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We started the next day, May 24<sup>th</sup>, by riding the streetcar to the peace park.<span style=""> </span>While amazing,<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrti2E9M_60PcMhIPVz3-Zuz0LK6FWo6CfFZX6yTlCVVqRFhxY8IP2HVv90wZRFZJKdR1lA5OyhRiqDd7e8cSPFXTh_Nksw-fDthOTXafqKV1-vaHGt1ZWwKVdC-3sxzzBKPMtnraDJU/s1600/IMG_1906.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrti2E9M_60PcMhIPVz3-Zuz0LK6FWo6CfFZX6yTlCVVqRFhxY8IP2HVv90wZRFZJKdR1lA5OyhRiqDd7e8cSPFXTh_Nksw-fDthOTXafqKV1-vaHGt1ZWwKVdC-3sxzzBKPMtnraDJU/s320/IMG_1906.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480033096310399298" border="0" /></a> and touting a flat fare they aren’t the fastest in the world, stopping every one or two blocks.<span style=""> </span>I suppose it makes sense and I still love them anyways.<span style=""> </span>It stopped just outside the “genbaku dome” (nuclear bomb dome), as its station’s name advertised.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We took our time exploring the area, and we even saw some stuff that I missed with my mom, like a little Buddha statue still standing near ground zero of the blast, and the shadow burnt in on itself.<span style=""> </span>At ground zero itself however, there is little more than a parking garage present now.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We knew weather would be an issue, so we toured the park while it was still dry, seeing the mound where tens of thousands of bodies were cremated, various statues, and the plentiful paper crane displays among other things.<span style=""> </span>Later we moved inside the museum, where they had various free exhibits open.<span style=""> </span>One exhibit was various children’s drawings, of the horrors they witnessed; perhaps more disturbing, but not as graphic as a real photo.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The next exhibit was from a famous photographer as he captured the decades proceeding, as the city that “wouldn’t support life for 75 years” grew from the ashes of catastrophe.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl89wU9p-15SoIo4QCMBpiKyHvpvRzNP9j62-jByoO2NhDWOExtB6115vYtDEHY_293GFltZHewc6143AGQVPMNq2G9TptfiEN6gJcXo3W2AwFgxij7x-ZYJiy2eK5dmXjcsdto6sfYb4/s1600/IMG_1916.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl89wU9p-15SoIo4QCMBpiKyHvpvRzNP9j62-jByoO2NhDWOExtB6115vYtDEHY_293GFltZHewc6143AGQVPMNq2G9TptfiEN6gJcXo3W2AwFgxij7x-ZYJiy2eK5dmXjcsdto6sfYb4/s320/IMG_1916.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480033763895168018" border="0" /></a><span style=""> </span>After all this, we stopped for a break for lunch before tackling the main museum itself.<span style=""> </span>I was relieved they had a Thai audio tour set for Ann, as it would have been painful to try and describe things like ‘atoms’ and ‘army division’ to her.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Like the last time I went, it was an amazing and moving experience to be there.<span style=""> </span>The only complaint I would have is the hundred of elementary school students coming in wave after wave, screaming and flashing their cameras at everything as kids do.<span style=""> </span>I’m not sure it’s such a good idea to have kids that young in a place like that in the first place, as if they truly understood the information around them, it would give them nightmares.<span style=""> </span>Apparently one of my schools is doing a trip to Hiroshima and not Okinawa this year due to budget concerns.<span style=""> </span>Well, they’re both beautiful.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We both left the museum feeling a little sad, and visited the other huge memorial underground, with the ever-flowing fountain pouring in tribute to the thousands that died begging for a drink.<span style=""> </span>I think we both had seen enough, and hurried back to our hotel before 5:00, as we heard there would be a baseball game playing.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Unfortunately around this time was when my camera died for good.<span style=""> </span>It had caused me problems ever since I bought it last September for my trip to Thailand, but now it wouldn’t work at all.<span style=""> </span>I grudgingly resigned myself to having to spend a lot of money replacing it, but found out it’s still under warranty; I picked it up today after school.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I did manage to squeeze out 2 last pictures at the baseball game, so atleast I can show that.<span style=""> Everything else I'll give thanks to Richard. At the game, </span>our tickets were even cheaper this time at $16, and it was an wonderful<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik7bU96qrmGS2HsfA0a8BAOPUZeiDJ6hWBlcljpF7v0ygv5sdz49IqTHUByKgvYx89VQFL3QnmiVq_2vqtPgxYUpoNBSLXYIhA27VzSMat35w8cswcezbIRX6qaozI2mS-QCMOTGMmGDA/s1600/IMG_1922.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik7bU96qrmGS2HsfA0a8BAOPUZeiDJ6hWBlcljpF7v0ygv5sdz49IqTHUByKgvYx89VQFL3QnmiVq_2vqtPgxYUpoNBSLXYIhA27VzSMat35w8cswcezbIRX6qaozI2mS-QCMOTGMmGDA/s320/IMG_1922.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480034002608277474" border="0" /></a> again.<span style=""> </span>There were nachos, hot dogs, Philly cheese steaks and other goodies.<span style=""> </span>Ann asked me where my diet was, and I told her it was in Ina.<span style=""> </span>I can cheat one day a week I think, and this outing was too rare and special for me to hold back.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The game wasn’t crazy exciting as it was in Yokohama, but atleast this time our team, the Hiroshima Carp won.<span style=""> </span>During the game, we could see the Shinkansen rolling in the background (the bullet train).<span style=""> </span>Ann seems to love it, and gets excited every time a train rolls by.<span style=""> </span>I can’t blame her either, I still think they’re cool.<span style=""> </span>It’s not like we have them around my 700-kilometer radius in Canada. (A shame really)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">What were really neat at the game was the little patio balconies set up.<span style=""> </span>There, people picnicked with their families while eating supper and watching the game.<span style=""> </span>Of course, there were many lunch boxes with rice and other Japanese food, still a novelty for me at huge sporting events; I miss the big greasy cheese burgers you can get at Taylor Field.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On Tuesday we had to go back, but I wanted one last tour around what was quickly becoming my favourite city in Japan.<span style=""> </span>It’s so clean, beautiful and new.<span style=""> </span>It has grass.<span style=""> </span>It has expansive areas where you can find peace without being in a swarm of people.<span style=""> </span>It has wider roads, and uses more blocks than strange winding roads.<span style=""> </span>I love the streetcars.<span style=""> </span>I love the new and affordable baseball stadium.<span style=""> </span>I just love Hiroshima.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ann didn’t want to see Majima island anymore than I did.<span style=""> </span>Some consider it a symbol of Japan; a red Tori in some water.<span style=""> </span>We figured just seeing a picture of it was enough, so we went up to see the castle.<span style=""> </span>It again was a beautiful area and walk, and had some grotesque trees that survived the bomb.<span style=""> </span>To the museums credit, it doesn’t talk about the war too much, as to not get angry at either side, and instead gives you information about the bomb and how disastrous it is.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That being said, the castle grounds is near ground zero, and housed one of the 6 main war battalions for Japan.<span style=""> </span>The castle was naturally destroyed, but rebuilt into an interesting museum.<span style=""> </span>We enjoyed it, even if it felt like being in a museum and not a castle like the one in Osaka.<span style=""> </span>Strangely enough, it boasted the castle as a symbol of Hiroshima, and something everyone thinks about when they think of the city.<span style=""> </span>I can argue with that, given I’ve never heard of it before, but oh well.<span style=""> </span>I mean, it wasn’t even mentioned in the tourist pamphlets we had; we only knew about it because it was in the corner of maps covering the peace park.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We headed home, but hurried because we saw the storm moving in.<span style=""> </span>10 minutes into the 6-hour drive Ann needed the bathroom so I gave her a hard time.<span style=""> </span>She said “Tony, I’m a woman, I need the bathroom” or something.<span style=""> </span>She’s cute ^_^<span style=""> </span>Drive as we might, the storm caught up with us, and during the last hour we were stuck in scary downpours again, with very poor visibility.<span style=""> </span>We got home ok though, and went for sushi again.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I think it was a good week, I hardly recall, but I know we made time for Brett and Kaoru to come visit on Thursday.<span style=""> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLIk_NzJ73ya9wH4DxNBndfmHuq-K-Pya7qxN9LfG3WPw5BqZrcrqlRUJQI1C3pM24hvcsZufg5FhwzLfxciKtmlPKSTf0cH9grETYNNpbzuQTcu4Jng_t3kKL0QL9CarLPbay7DRDBxc/s1600/CIMG1358.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLIk_NzJ73ya9wH4DxNBndfmHuq-K-Pya7qxN9LfG3WPw5BqZrcrqlRUJQI1C3pM24hvcsZufg5FhwzLfxciKtmlPKSTf0cH9grETYNNpbzuQTcu4Jng_t3kKL0QL9CarLPbay7DRDBxc/s320/CIMG1358.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480038580009187650" border="0" /></a>That weekend we were looking forward to USJ, Universal Studios Japan.<span style=""> </span>It’s a huge theme park in Osaka, and Brett having known this, wore his Jaws shirt.<span style=""> </span>Ann cooked up some amazing food, and Rich and Kaoru’s friend came to join us as well.<span style=""> </span>The girls talked about dresses or something, I don’t know, while the men talked about things like awesome stuff.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">While we were gung-ho about video games earlier, we were simply enjoying each other’s company too much to turn the system on.<span style=""> </span>Brett felt a little sad because of this, but I just said, “We need to hang out more.”<span style=""> </span>We were catching up the whole time and it was great.<span style=""> </span>Once you see each other enough though, then you can just hang out, much like with Richard because we see him 2 or 3 times a week.<span style=""> </span>When he comes over, it’s not uncommon to just turn on a funny show or something, just watch it, and not feel rude for not really talking.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Regardless it was a lot of fun and great seeing them again.<span style=""> </span>On Friday after work, Richard, Thi and Mervin hopped in my car and we all drove to Osaka for some USJ.<span style=""> </span>Mervin found us an amazing hotel that was $130 for two people for two nights; I don’t think I’ve ever seen it cheaper anywhere else in Japan, not to mention it was connected to the amusement park.<span style=""> </span>Apparently it was so cheap because he booked online, and people that were booking at the lobber were paying much, much more than that.<span style=""> </span><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Even though the room smelt like smoke when we first entered, it was well worth it for that price; we just opened the windows. Speaking of smoking, there is a ridiculous add campaign on now for smokes in Japan. It features a computer generated body builder smoker, as if it were healthy or something. I look forward to the legally smoke-free venues back home.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So anyways in the morning, May 29<sup>th</sup>, we met up with our friend Noriko in<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinufGbnfVBLcNPqD2YaEgUG0MHm9vWY4baB663H7T5-OF3d3-_euUcrZHZh7GMkDFl36DcAkv7bGfJpLWtJ1R4OAFbSWTSStvXmEPZYgpKZgRpa18DuGFMONtJFJQsVKTDicUO1t1Ogz0/s1600/CIMG1369.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinufGbnfVBLcNPqD2YaEgUG0MHm9vWY4baB663H7T5-OF3d3-_euUcrZHZh7GMkDFl36DcAkv7bGfJpLWtJ1R4OAFbSWTSStvXmEPZYgpKZgRpa18DuGFMONtJFJQsVKTDicUO1t1Ogz0/s320/CIMG1369.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480040500953231890" border="0" /></a> the lobby, who took a day off and woke up early, to leave from Kyoto to meet us.<span style=""> </span>It worked out great as many rides are designed for 2 people, so now we were a group of 6.<span style=""> </span>Noriko had been to USJ one time before, but she had only been on one ride.<span style=""> </span>For that ride, she waited over 3 hours.<span style=""> </span>Luckily for us, we would be a million times luckier than that.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Not only did we enjoy a beautiful day, but also we rode all the rides and saw all the shows we wanted.<span style=""> </span>We started with a 3D Spiderman ride that was amazing.<span style=""> </span>The effects were all well done, though I was a bit sad I didn’t recognize half the villains he was fighting.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We saw Terminator 2 ‘sequel’ that mixed it up with live actors.<span style=""> </span>We saw peter pan ‘flying’ around high on the air being suspended by wires, we saw huge explosions and fights in a water world show, while getting splashed.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The shows were so good, and the rides were amazing as well.<span style=""> </span>I was scared earlier on of the big roller coaster snaking<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkJAB_02WswS8EJ_g4hkMuDTxec9D8FnCW3bAzavmYREkOgIdU0kFbQd6OzQO21s-V0OizjjiaxWzojz8942BcdkHv34Vrxawh0ZValN1Z5ANINr6fQOj9cq603dD35LQQ7ERq-JPcfbU/s1600/CIMG1397.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkJAB_02WswS8EJ_g4hkMuDTxec9D8FnCW3bAzavmYREkOgIdU0kFbQd6OzQO21s-V0OizjjiaxWzojz8942BcdkHv34Vrxawh0ZValN1Z5ANINr6fQOj9cq603dD35LQQ7ERq-JPcfbU/s320/CIMG1397.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480041323864547538" border="0" /></a> through the park, but I knew if I could tough it out, nothing would scare me after that.<span style=""> </span>Hell, I think I survived scarier, with “Journey to the center of the Earth” and “Tower of Terror” at Disney Sea.<span style=""> </span>I came to realize however, I am mostly good at mentally blocking out the first big scare.<span style=""> </span>After choking back the horror of the first drop, I am filled with immediate relief of ‘the worst is over’.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This ride let you put on music to listen to while flying around all crazy like.<span style=""> </span>Despite that, everyone around me could hear a loud “OH F@&K!!!!” as we dropped for the second time and I had no mental barriers in place.<span style=""> </span>Needless to say, I completely lost it.<span style=""> </span>I have few memories beyond my screams, my girl screams, my screams of “WHY?!?!”, and trying to somehow escape my living nightmare.<span style=""> </span>I just know my only respites came briefly while spinning in circles, pressing my face back into my skull.<span style=""> </span>I can easily handle that over the many drops.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Somehow, it was over.<span style=""> </span>I could hardly hear the laughs or see the smiles of my friends as I staggered to the nearest solid ground.<span style=""> </span>My legs were heavy, my arms were numb, my throat parched from screaming, and I was dizzy.<span style=""> </span>I don’t think I have ever had that much adrenaline shooting through my body at the same time before.<span style=""> </span>For some reason I weakly said to Ann: “let’s go again”.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Perhaps luckily, we didn’t have a chance to go again, but atleast I felt I knew what to expect.<span style=""> </span>I was so tired I couldn’t get scared for Jurassic Park, even though the ride was little more than lifting you high up to drop you into a dark hole; kinda like splash mountain.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA_IQbDty2dQS2MGe6BHItAQ8vat1hb4yIbkxaLTa5lwJY8H9SBgGmhobj2ynXQkkOxujA0SgBoM8TW6c-g0R6C6bqFI-sBNspG2ewoerVto1nBDp2dYn37-dYNLtSnv3DmdAnKdg2YY8/s1600/CIMG1400.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA_IQbDty2dQS2MGe6BHItAQ8vat1hb4yIbkxaLTa5lwJY8H9SBgGmhobj2ynXQkkOxujA0SgBoM8TW6c-g0R6C6bqFI-sBNspG2ewoerVto1nBDp2dYn37-dYNLtSnv3DmdAnKdg2YY8/s320/CIMG1400.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480041932240759698" border="0" /></a><span style=""> </span>For that one I noticed the people in front of me nod to each other before putting on their plastic rain hat.<span style=""> </span>I just put my head down and stuck it out.<span style=""> </span>The picture at the end was funny, but even Ann looked scared.<span style=""> </span>She says she was scared though, because of the T-Rex trying to bite you before the drop.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I think that was it for the scary rides.<span style=""> </span>The others were just plain fun.<span style=""> </span>It was worrying to see the many hidden areas filled with nothing but waiting queues, but I was happy we weren’t waiting in them.<span style=""> </span>The one we did have to wait and hour for was a new ride.<span style=""> </span>This one was a “Space Fantasy”, where you fly through the stars ‘collecting’ bits or something while spinning in circles.<span style=""> </span>While a bit scared at first, it didn’t drop you too badly or anything, and was really exhilarating.<span style=""> </span>This was everyone’s favourite ride, as you slung around a huge Saturn, and other amazing displays.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The last ride we made, was a small kids ride: Snoopy’s race.<span style=""> </span>Sure it was a short kids ride, but seeing the house was worth the trip.<span style=""> </span>I don’t think I’d ever witness a place as magical as that, where drawings from the Peanuts comics came to life.<span style=""> </span>We went mostly because we had seen every other ride we had wanted to already, and we would be finished in time for the light parade.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This parade was longer than Disney’s, and just as exciting.<span style=""> </span>The density of the lights on each motorcade wasn’t as high, but still thoughtful and neat.<span style=""> </span>One great change from USJ and Disney is you have room to move around and do stuff.<span style=""> </span>During their parades, you’re lucky if you can find standing room.<span style=""> </span>At USJ, we were front row, and Ann was waving to the many people parading by.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After the parade, surprisingly <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTfM5tCDaR6XEzylMsNjBQm9P7F0QUSWbVLENe8vKICT-raYPb2EFwD2zx1CeMrthCc1bqmfngNVM7ku2eDrnqpCxUnWbFURTbhXj2chemG0GGXVThKl50Jxozr-i1W5R8vvlYPMjAVQk/s1600/CIMG1439.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTfM5tCDaR6XEzylMsNjBQm9P7F0QUSWbVLENe8vKICT-raYPb2EFwD2zx1CeMrthCc1bqmfngNVM7ku2eDrnqpCxUnWbFURTbhXj2chemG0GGXVThKl50Jxozr-i1W5R8vvlYPMjAVQk/s320/CIMG1439.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480042675931900770" border="0" /></a>most of the rides were shutting down even though it was only 8.<span style=""> </span>We got some food after much discussion, and Noriko went home.<span style=""> </span>In the morning, we went to Osaka’s world-class aquarium.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">If I had to compare it to Okinawa’s, I would much rather go there, if only for the main viewing room alone, not to mention the dolphin shows.<span style=""> </span>It was still an amazing aquarium with cool things to see, though the pamphlet I saw walking in had my mind on other things the whole time: nearby, there was an IMAX playing Hubble 3D.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I love space.<span style=""> </span>I can’t tell you how much, or even rational thoughts as to why; I just knew I needed to see that show.<span style=""> </span>Luckily everyone else was feeling enthusiastic, and we saw what we wanted in 2 hours at the aquarium anyways to go.<span style=""> </span>The show was simply amazing given what they had to work with.<span style=""> </span>I remember reading briefly of the challenges they had filming it, and for what it’s worth, I was still immensely entertained.<span style=""> </span>It had a lot of footage of the last servicing mission done last year, and it showed some 3D images that Hubble has taken.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Minds blown, we rushed to the next island over that had Osaka’s world trade center.<span style=""> </span>From the amazing view on the 49<sup>th</sup> or whatever floor in the harbor, we looked out over Osaka while eating a buffet of wonderful varieties; diet again left at home.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Stomachs <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQgRWNJFIGQAjp9LqExKqk3VxE-QizH2TQWwZmstDfYj9KIgJpxExMJEkED6dZ7-DJcI5nMrp-h4K1M6iAcxbI80VVISS9u45Id0d7rGWFd3y3E6XvMaaHT-wCG_JKLfEjx24X5WG8DLY/s1600/CIMG1432.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQgRWNJFIGQAjp9LqExKqk3VxE-QizH2TQWwZmstDfYj9KIgJpxExMJEkED6dZ7-DJcI5nMrp-h4K1M6iAcxbI80VVISS9u45Id0d7rGWFd3y3E6XvMaaHT-wCG_JKLfEjx24X5WG8DLY/s320/CIMG1432.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480042876056562626" border="0" /></a>full, and rushing to beat the parking meter from rolling over the next hour, we headed home.<span style=""> </span>Everyone was sleepy, but I forced myself to be alert with my responsibility for getting everyone home safely.<span style=""> </span>I think that trip took a little over 4 hours so it worked out.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Who knows if I’ll be back right?<span style=""> </span>Brett said I should stay another year just to do USJ some more times, but I feel at peace with it, having conquered most of its offerings.<span style=""> </span>It has made me sad to think about “saying goodbye” to these places.<span style=""> </span>I much prefer the “see you later”, but realistically who knows.<span style=""> </span>There are many other places to see and things to do in the world; I feel like I have proper closure with these mystical giants.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> "A part of kindness consists in loving people more than they deserve." -Joseph Joubert <o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">tnoy</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-79868699857617844962010-05-31T01:05:00.000-07:002010-05-31T02:34:14.561-07:00Busy but Fun Spring DaysAfter mom went home, we had one last day to spend in Tokyo on May 9th.<span style=""> </span>We started by driving to the Sumo arena, parking nearby, and buying tickets for the show.<span style=""> </span>Since it was the first day, Mom missed out unfortunately, and tickets were mostly sold out.<span style=""> </span>Once secured, we went to Ginza to grab that cool looking buffet we saw the night before with Mervin. <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For $10 each, we had our own BBQ on the table, and a huge<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyXPoxPCWNlYmwk_6ayw5wl7HN7FeMCLbze2-TWdhHVS97-eI5gDjrLaXlFIx5G8c_Kq2G8YS81MeJPX3J6Q4O57HSW2bgtmmWYfn4So-D7rFstWL6ix5Snm-Evccl4M1wQ2mcaxwTMEo/s1600/IMG_1593.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyXPoxPCWNlYmwk_6ayw5wl7HN7FeMCLbze2-TWdhHVS97-eI5gDjrLaXlFIx5G8c_Kq2G8YS81MeJPX3J6Q4O57HSW2bgtmmWYfn4So-D7rFstWL6ix5Snm-Evccl4M1wQ2mcaxwTMEo/s320/IMG_1593.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477343597587740386" border="0" /></a> selection of meats to throw on it.<span style=""> </span>Knowing prices in Japan, we easily got our monies worth, as each plate we brought back was easily worth over $10 each.<span style=""> </span>It was really busy, but a good experience.<span style=""> </span>I don’t think I’ve been in a buffet that big or that busy before, but the time limit is still a bit strange to me.<span style=""> </span>It’s good that we eat fast and get the most out of it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Mervin went home after, so Ann and I went to watch Sumo.<span style=""> </span><a href="http://aschoenroth.blogspot.com/2008/09/where-big-boys-come-to-play.html">If you read my post last time</a> I went, it would be a lot like that; big dudes pushing and shoving.<span style=""> </span>It was still exciting and entertaining, and here is a video of easily the fattest sumo there; you can hear Ann screaming, and the dude has his massive boobs punched ^_^<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dywkZFXWm6MXYBoSpDgvySTEZqfTjQmV6Zwd00YO96NaaRi4NTJi0IU92PABj8U0Af8R2Tpgrg_OdBUJN5F5w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We had lots of fun, and Ann really got into it.<span style=""> </span>As the matches got to higher levels, more advertisements scrolled out until finally the Yokozuna’s match, when a dozen McDonalds adds were paraded around the sacred circle.<span style=""> </span>This was a rare time when there was only one Yokozuna, as the other one was <a href="http://search.japantimes.co.jp/cgi-bin/nn20100524x3.html">forced into early retirement</a> for getting drunk at a bar and punching some old guy that was yelling at him or something; imagine if they did that sort of thing with sports back home.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But anyways, after the show we paid for parking, which turned out to be over $40.<span style=""> </span>That was a depressing change of events, but was very slightly consoled by driving through the heart of Tokyo while not taking the expensive “express” ways.<span style=""> </span>The first hour or so was fun, and somehow we were making good progress.<span style=""> </span>According to our little map, we were on a fairly main road, and our path home seemed straightforward.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Unfortunately, ‘accurate’ maps are quite rare to come by, and ours was grossly out of scale.<span style=""> </span>This happens to be my biggest problem with subway maps too, as some stations can be kilometers away from each other, while some, like in Ginza, have atleast a dozen different stations in a 1.5 kilometer radius.<span style=""> </span>Long story short, we got lost for hours in some town outside Tokyo, so much as driving in circles around the Interchange parking area but not being able to enter it before finally finding an entrance much later.<span style=""> </span>We got home quite late.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Moving along with annoyances aside, it was an experience, with good and bad mixed together making it more authentic maybe.<span style=""> </span>The week went along well I assume, though it was weeks ago and I hardly remember it now.<span style=""> </span>I do know that I started teaching my Wednesday night class again to adults, and I have my 4<sup>th</sup> one coming up this week to let you know how much time has passed… </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">What can I say; Ann leaves in 2 weeks, and having fun with her in that time is a much higher priority than writing these stories.<span style=""> </span>We have been very busy, and enjoying every minute.<span style=""> </span>I remember<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuS0LrWXWD7hFbG9LkblERDJ3AR0IHSZOKYIx1fE8bd7_qZ9RkWwiaI6tZ6znMkxhJQxBxte6VCZ1ZlFffokxf5X8IlmokEXbvMBbVy3UKn0MlDaVwSGxFZWDVVwqu_76uqkw4dWdD2Mg/s1600/IMG_1676.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuS0LrWXWD7hFbG9LkblERDJ3AR0IHSZOKYIx1fE8bd7_qZ9RkWwiaI6tZ6znMkxhJQxBxte6VCZ1ZlFffokxf5X8IlmokEXbvMBbVy3UKn0MlDaVwSGxFZWDVVwqu_76uqkw4dWdD2Mg/s320/IMG_1676.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477347403287243730" border="0" /></a> now, that it was Ann’s birthday on May 11<sup>th</sup>.<span style=""> </span>I had been trying to feel out a nice present for her, but she picked up on my soft questions easily, and seemed really reluctant to take much of anything; I was already giving her so much in this Japanese adventure for her.<span style=""> </span>Fair enough.<span style=""> </span>Instead, I got her some cake from a local bakery, cooked her a nice supper with fish, had champagne (her first time), and watched a movie together.<span style=""> </span>It was a quiet birthday, but still memorable and sweet.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That weekend, May 15<sup>th</sup>/16<sup>th</sup>, we went on a road trip up north for an Adventure day not unlike <a href="http://aschoenroth.blogspot.com/2009/05/white-washed.html">what I experienced last year</a>.<span style=""> </span>Unfortunately, Ann’s knee is still giving her problems from that Skiing accident, so we didn’t do canyoning that first day.<span style=""> </span>Instead, we had the (little advertised) kayaking alternative.<span style=""> </span>Since nobody knew about it, it was practically a private excursion for us.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A New Zealand fellow with his Japanese wife and 5-year-old daughter would be our guides.<span style=""> </span>They were exceptionally interesting and very kind.<span style=""> </span>Our kayaking trip was out on a little lake for 2 hours.<span style=""> </span>It was open top, so we didn’t need to take the ‘flip’ training; ie how to recover from being upside down without drowning, you could just swim out.<span style=""> </span>They took many photos, all of which they posted for free on their website.<span style=""> </span>If you have time, <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/ilovecanoeinfo/20100515pm#">take a look</a>, and try to absorb the beautiful surroundings we admired for hours.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was a nice, leisurely paddle with good conversation.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAUp8a6XXt6xzuUt5bib2yNKO7fs_ipDHlHDwA7_sSDwo6HmcAB2VtmU8ei6AzZnywht68824JP6kKYImZu4hJDeQitgx_4-nGyz1Ki7hQPgf7NvJurwH79Hbo1KeFmIp41p9Gmc4ftVw/s1600/IMG_5171.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAUp8a6XXt6xzuUt5bib2yNKO7fs_ipDHlHDwA7_sSDwo6HmcAB2VtmU8ei6AzZnywht68824JP6kKYImZu4hJDeQitgx_4-nGyz1Ki7hQPgf7NvJurwH79Hbo1KeFmIp41p9Gmc4ftVw/s320/IMG_5171.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477348286921129490" border="0" /></a><span style=""> </span>When we reached the end near a waterfall, we all sat down for a break to eat biscuits and tea.<span style=""> </span>The guy told me his wife started this kayak/canoe company as a way to pass the time, but now it was making more money than his job; I think that’s ok, things worked out good for his family that way.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That night we all got together and had a BBQ, much like last years.<span style=""> </span>I still hate charcoal.<span style=""> </span>So while everyone was hungry and waiting an hour for the useless stuff to finally get warm, I went up and grabbed a hot dog from a superior gas like I did last year.<span style=""> </span>I had to promise not to tell anyone else and start a riot (like last year) and I could only have one before they made the grill exclusive for another party.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I didn’t mind too much, as I suffered most of the weekend from heartburn, as my weight hit the tipping point of around 105 kg, when I can feel my high blood pressure and heartburn constantly.<span style=""> </span>It was time to get serious about a diet, once the weekend was over of course.<span style=""> </span>I didn’t have much to drink, and I didn’t grab too much from the grill, although Ann and Richard were good about making sure everyone got food, as opposed to the vultures feeding the most.<span style=""> </span>Again, I hate the style where people sit around and pick off the grill before the chef thinks it’s done; maybe it’s just me.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In the morning it was time for some White Water Rafting.<span style=""> </span>There was just a group of 5 of us, as most people had done it the day before, or were out paragliding today; something I was too heavy to do.<span style=""> </span>I didn’t mind, I absolutely love white water rafting, and suggest it for everyone to try.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The water was cold, but our spirits were high.<span style=""> </span>We ran the same course as last year and had an amazing time.<span style=""> </span>We all jumped into the lake during a calm spot and splashed around for the camera they brought to film promotional materials.<span style=""> </span>We hung off the side screaming to Ann to help us in comical fashions, and she responded<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx5JLZ3-eYG1R3BmswI1FwGJoUKCZLb00wwGjoolB5pAfX6-aFuosJsKh53KMeIij4Jxmzj9u_CWgSMgkm4YOZQtKEPe1AVcx23WsPAhoKxH7-eXVDPEpNgnJNoovAuB-X4SGEGAj8rKY/s1600/IMG_5191.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx5JLZ3-eYG1R3BmswI1FwGJoUKCZLb00wwGjoolB5pAfX6-aFuosJsKh53KMeIij4Jxmzj9u_CWgSMgkm4YOZQtKEPe1AVcx23WsPAhoKxH7-eXVDPEpNgnJNoovAuB-X4SGEGAj8rKY/s320/IMG_5191.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477351296792008386" border="0" /></a> by turning around, and jumping into the lake herself ^_^<span style=""> </span>The wetsuits really help to keep in body temperatures.<span style=""> </span>The water was especially high from the spring melt.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We got into rivalries with other boats like last year, splashing each other as desired.<span style=""> </span>There were groups of university students from Tokyo near the river, making sketches for their art class or something.<span style=""> </span>We ran into a group of snobby girls eating ice cream that didn’t say hi back, and the boat behind us took liberty in splashing them with cold water.<span style=""> </span>There was an older couple nearby watching, and I’ll never forget how happy that old guy looked to see that.<span style=""> </span>He stood up and laughed loudly while pointing.<span style=""> </span>I joined him and laughed uncontrollably for 5 minutes; that boat contained my heroes.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">What am amazing ride, Ann loved it too.<span style=""> </span>Our guide was really cool too, telling jokes and leading us on strange paths, like paddling hard straight into large rocks so we would get soaked, or pinning us under a frozen waterfall until I got a headache from the cold water.<span style=""> </span>What an awesome experience.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The only downer, like last year, was the photo company.<span style=""> </span>They updated their policy since last year’s loud and drunken revolt at the insultingly high prices.<span style=""> </span>It was still bad, and in some ways worse, so we didn’t get any pictures at all.<span style=""> </span>Please look at the (expensive) ones <a href="http://aschoenroth.blogspot.com/2009/05/white-washed.html">we bought from last year</a>, and picture it a bit different if you need an idea.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We went for Ramen, and although I wasn’t 'hungry', it was no problem putting that large bowl of noodles away.<span style=""> </span>This was when I really got serious though, as my main diet is simply ‘portion control’.<span style=""> </span>Don’t eat when you’re not hungry basically, and stop when you are.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I think it wasn’t even 2 days later when we went for sushi.<span style=""> </span>I know Ann was joking around by offering me cake, but my resolve was absolute.<span style=""> </span>I was damn proud of myself when we left later, as I only ate 7 plates as opposed to my normal 12 or so.<span style=""> </span>I was going to lose weight, and that was that.<span style=""> </span>By the time Friday came, I had lost 3kg.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Those early pounds are always easy to lose though, and I’m glad the heartburn has stopped.<span style=""> </span>Of course it’s still a struggle<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWAe1Oo0PeDIOxVHvasoo43SHSquppIZmfwqy5sru2AfVvEPzQzbBAclbzpKWx4Aw1u0qSneJ4DhunPEUjiFH5iHAszOQ9STIfdiJT1yxe9992FHw-P-t9LewxzELJPjjs0HxgOwUqICQ/s1600/IMG_1762.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWAe1Oo0PeDIOxVHvasoo43SHSquppIZmfwqy5sru2AfVvEPzQzbBAclbzpKWx4Aw1u0qSneJ4DhunPEUjiFH5iHAszOQ9STIfdiJT1yxe9992FHw-P-t9LewxzELJPjjs0HxgOwUqICQ/s320/IMG_1762.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477351622262446594" border="0" /></a> even now, but I know my stomach has shrunk a lot.<span style=""> </span>During the week Ann wanted to join me, and started cooking more ‘diet’ food.<span style=""> </span>She really is an amazing cook, and it’s always a delight to eat what she’s made.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The next Saturday, the 22<sup>nd</sup> now, there was a large event in Ina near the Onsen.<span style=""> </span>I had stayed there before <a href="http://aschoenroth.blogspot.com/2008/06/dance-til-you-cant-dance-no-mo.html">in the cabins</a> for a block party a couple years back, and this day we were having a “NagaYes” event (a play on words from Nagano).<span style=""> </span>The various blocks host these events, and the last one was ours; perhaps you remember the last one I attended with the <a href="http://aschoenroth.blogspot.com/2010/01/sore-throats-and-sushi.html">sushi eating contest</a>, or the one with the bowling.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The event was a “triathlon” containing an obstacle course, mallet golf, and poker.<span style=""> </span>I started our group off with a bang jumping over logs in the ground.<span style=""> </span>There were various events, and our block had enough people that my participation wasn’t required more than once.<span style=""> </span>Ann even had a shot running over some moving logs on a bridge.<span style=""> </span>In the end though, another block had the best time, but we all had fun screwing around in the beautiful park, enjoying the sunny day.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We took a break for lunch, but I ‘wasn’t hungry’ by definition, and had to pass on the amazing hamburgers they were selling; I would be back for one at suppertime when I ‘was hungry’.<span style=""> </span>We gathered in the afternoon and played mallet golf in random groups.<span style=""> </span>I was in the only 3-person group, but it was ok since we struggled quite a bit.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Go figure that mallet golf is more dangerous<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQFtvXixSpZeJq5oMwqc9IAXdbblguwSu0yC-XdeYlTX3tkKpdqoMl9W2s6RXuV3u58JI53vs6ezcQ-ag7-aWmGsgj_BPG_Vhmr_IQuiQIy1G0wfVgg7sCIoO0f_J1lgHsmLSBWpKkseo/s1600/IMG_1774.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQFtvXixSpZeJq5oMwqc9IAXdbblguwSu0yC-XdeYlTX3tkKpdqoMl9W2s6RXuV3u58JI53vs6ezcQ-ag7-aWmGsgj_BPG_Vhmr_IQuiQIy1G0wfVgg7sCIoO0f_J1lgHsmLSBWpKkseo/s320/IMG_1774.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477351837507218674" border="0" /></a> than recklessly cruising through an obstacle course; I rolled my ankle on one of the earlier holes as the ground was little more than well-traversed paths through a jungle, and I was busy writing down scores while walking.<span style=""> </span>I tied my shoelaces tighter though, and the pain went away in ½ hour or so.<span style=""> </span>In 18 holes, I shot a 92 game, maybe 20 over par.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was just good fun.<span style=""> </span>Chris and Molly were in my group, and Chris was dressed like a raccoon.<span style=""> </span>He bought the suit a while ago, as after many adventures, he figured this would be its last.<span style=""> </span>Funnily enough, there were two cotton testicles attached to it, and earlier a little boy ripped one off; we had attracted a number of crowds during our obstacle course fiasco.<span style=""> </span>Needless to say, countless road kill/poaching jokes were made at his expense.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ann did well too, and had so much fun; she would really like to go again before returning home… perhaps we can do that tonight if there is time.<span style=""> </span>It took about 2 hours for the 18 holes, and it wasn’t very busy.<span style=""> </span>When older groups went through though, they went FAST.<span style=""> </span>These older couples were pros, and we took pointers.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After the game, I grabbed that amazing burger, while Ann got some cooked sausage.<span style=""> </span>How they served it though, was by suspending <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkbhk2q_EXrjalzzR1O2R8K-rS2d2aEhM84phNgmksEelcI2n_ADQo_b30LI0lLJmABbu0b0nSslBySltX_kBfdKQQEOjy_TbsrTkZXm1vJYv77bNl3-MLHrWHV_cSPYJ68HrhhRXejyE/s1600/IMG_1804.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkbhk2q_EXrjalzzR1O2R8K-rS2d2aEhM84phNgmksEelcI2n_ADQo_b30LI0lLJmABbu0b0nSslBySltX_kBfdKQQEOjy_TbsrTkZXm1vJYv77bNl3-MLHrWHV_cSPYJ68HrhhRXejyE/s320/IMG_1804.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477352086913152610" border="0" /></a>it on a metal coil, and giving you a pair of kitchen scissors to cut off pieces.<span style=""> </span>Quite odd when you think about it, but it was delicious regardless.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I went home with Ann to pick up my video games and Onsen gear, and we returned to join the festivities.<span style=""> </span>I wasn’t drinking in part because of the diet, and because we were going to wake up early the next day for a road trip.<span style=""> </span>We had eaten already which was good, as they were using the ridiculous charcoal again to BBQ… to be fair you don’t have much of a choice in Japan, I still remember when I searched for hours in many stores for a gas grill.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I set up the games, got out some poker chips (fake money coins, since finding real chips is nearly impossible), and went to the Onsen to relax for over an hour.<span style=""> </span>Crazy Ann however started drinking before getting into the hot water.<span style=""> </span>We had found a delicious drink; Pineapple Chu-Hi (Japanese alcohol).<span style=""> </span>Sure it can in a small can, but it was worth it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">She didn’t stop there though.<span style=""> </span>Ike had a huge present for everyone at the party.<span style=""> </span>A friend of his in his hometown owned a restaurant.<span style=""> </span>Some beer ‘expired’ and it was illegal for him to sell.<span style=""> </span>Long story short, he got over $200 of free beer, and after a month of trying to drink it himself, it was deemed impossible.<span style=""> </span>Enter the block party.<span style=""> </span>After that Chu-Hi, she had only one drink, that lovely “Orion” from Okinawa (I’m all about trying to have new and different experiences).<span style=""> </span>After that, she had one of the big bottles from Ike; these things are maybe 3 beers each.<span style=""> </span>She finished 2 of those, and a Coors, which she hated.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I could tell she was at her limit though, and cut her off, but not before everyone<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlCWsRoagYWtgwkT2Fid1I7x6T57Axv2sZ22HEDHDtf70rLqeD8PNB7BtTnWJC_52dZt5QRqruz1OLyIXTLnnvz5oPk195hhoppJ0z8wQffQZZbnXjtC-k0wBcf1AG35a4GogN87cFK8/s1600/IMG_1839.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdlCWsRoagYWtgwkT2Fid1I7x6T57Axv2sZ22HEDHDtf70rLqeD8PNB7BtTnWJC_52dZt5QRqruz1OLyIXTLnnvz5oPk195hhoppJ0z8wQffQZZbnXjtC-k0wBcf1AG35a4GogN87cFK8/s320/IMG_1839.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477352692966515842" border="0" /></a> had a wonderful evening.<span style=""> </span>I actually get tired of poker after one hour and didn’t play like a lot of people, but there were video games, card games, and many great people to talk to.<span style=""> </span>For example, we made plans to stay at Ashley’s this weekend while doing an English camp like last year.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But I had to take Ann home before things went downhill.<span style=""> </span>I made sure she drank water before passing out, and had a basin nearby in case she needed it; she didn't.<span style=""> </span>She actually got the first hangover in her life, but took it like a pro.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We got up early and I made breakfast. Thanks to tests at school I had holidays on Monday and Tuesday, and despite the pouring rain outside, we started the 650 km drive to Hiroshima.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">"Life is the sum of all your choices. " -Albert Camus <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">tnoy<o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-78326238684994258232010-05-26T00:44:00.000-07:002010-05-26T07:06:19.673-07:00The Rest of Mom’s Japanese AdventureSo now it was May 3<sup>rd</sup> and we were in Nagoya, where we chuckled at the bike parking areas you needed to pay by the hour for.<span style=""> </span>Almost a month ago from this late writing, but I only got back from Hiroshima late last night so sorry.<span style=""> </span>Hopefully I can tell that story before too long; I’d hate to jump into a “cliff’s note’s” format. <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We decided to ‘walk around’ and do nothing in particular; just head in the vague direction of Oasis 21, where the huge shopping and entertainment<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhlzmJtQ8N5ZLXETOgcNapnja9w4CcCcwBn142l0zuaCvHSrexhR_4wJbb1rN0g1gl5tpyhW7FtUzgpYrN74VsGKm1oGNMf_R-0ikoc8lI7J-iV8I96qK15SUGeQWAMJFw5wHwIYqnG3Y/s1600/IMG_1178.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhlzmJtQ8N5ZLXETOgcNapnja9w4CcCcwBn142l0zuaCvHSrexhR_4wJbb1rN0g1gl5tpyhW7FtUzgpYrN74VsGKm1oGNMf_R-0ikoc8lI7J-iV8I96qK15SUGeQWAMJFw5wHwIYqnG3Y/s320/IMG_1178.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475481638304803586" border="0" /></a> area in the downtown is.<span style=""> </span>It was a good couple hours walk, as the girls talk as girls do, and we were frightened by large imposing election vans.<span style=""> </span>If you didn’t know, it’s how they do elections in Japan; in the most annoying and noise polluting way possible.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">These monster vans had huge loud speakers on top of them.<span style=""> </span>This convoy had huge flags as they spouted the person’s name over and over, and I’m not sure what else; I’ve heard they say little more than “thanks for voting for me last time, vote for me again.” But I don’t know.<span style=""> </span>I do know, that they were blaring some kind of crazy militaristic music, and flying the Japanese Naval flag; the one everyone mistakes for a “World War 2 Flag” with the sun and stripes around it.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Around 20 minutes later there was another convoy for a different political party (probably) playing the same frightening crap.<span style=""> </span>It was so we were afraid to even look at their tinted-black windows’ direction, and it reminded us of videos you see of Nazi Germany.<span style=""> </span>I have no idea who thinks this kind of stuff is a good idea.<span style=""> </span>I heard later from my cousin that he saw the same thing in Shibuya, the busiest intersection in the world that you always see in the movies; it too reminded him of the world during darker days, but I digress.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The rest of the walk was really lovely, and we ran into a 70-something year old security guard that had ok English and was full of spunk.<span style=""> </span>We also ran into the much talked about “Tokyu Hands”, which was full of 8 floors of craft items / cool stuff.<span style=""> </span>We spent atleast another hour here seeing fun stuff.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Finally we made it to Oasis 21.<span style=""> </span>Nearby there were some performers<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOFgJK6GZcOlvOSxqp1IDzzUMalXd6LEO8fFdIb1q_lS16skEQk-MAiUv-jBgdhR_6xn0EA3-l2b-HI5cN9DyqwD2JFz-PTsfyLGoAuFaO3Em9IDOrZOfwS-80Hb-AWuwfcXzbZa7BAP0/s1600/IMG_1208.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOFgJK6GZcOlvOSxqp1IDzzUMalXd6LEO8fFdIb1q_lS16skEQk-MAiUv-jBgdhR_6xn0EA3-l2b-HI5cN9DyqwD2JFz-PTsfyLGoAuFaO3Em9IDOrZOfwS-80Hb-AWuwfcXzbZa7BAP0/s320/IMG_1208.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475577145734221554" border="0" /></a> playing Jazz or something, but it was hard to hear over some other idiot politician blaring hate over his loud speakers.<span style=""> </span>We instead went to the Oasis and ran smack into the middle of a huge children’s fair of some sort with live performances and games; Mom even made friends with some little kids that came up and talked to her.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by the number of times I’ve seen lines for McDonalds that stretch out the doors.<span style=""> </span>A nearby ice-cream place had its line going around the corner.<span style=""> </span>Maybe the only store I was interested in, the Jump shop, had a line going around half the floor space, and the nearby Pokemon store had queue ropes outside.<span style=""> </span>Both crowds of people weren’t moving, and the human bodies easily took up more space than the entire stores they were patiently waiting to enter.<span style=""> </span>We didn’t stay at Oasis 21 very long.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On the way back, we decided to try a buffet.<span style=""> </span>This one was extraordinary<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjfuVF1K9Z_d9buFzpiFeKWGC120boPgb6kWlovftD589iW4B9dxSS0KPUNMLjBryDdoX9gDNSIInlb2EuuPoPcYl1wnCdU_LI74lxHDOLGMKzUQlRqhBkLu_iG84mDbjjJln4laNS-lQ/s1600/IMG_1231.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjfuVF1K9Z_d9buFzpiFeKWGC120boPgb6kWlovftD589iW4B9dxSS0KPUNMLjBryDdoX9gDNSIInlb2EuuPoPcYl1wnCdU_LI74lxHDOLGMKzUQlRqhBkLu_iG84mDbjjJln4laNS-lQ/s320/IMG_1231.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475485175926621858" border="0" /></a> in that not only did they give you a time limit of one hour, but each table sported their own deep fryer.<span style=""> </span>We used the whole hour dipping various breaded meats and vegetables into it.<span style=""> </span>When our time was up, we headed back to the hotel and called it a night, but not before walking through the station.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Once there, Ann was walking a little bit faster a head of us, and before you knew it, two police offers swooped in speaking only Japanese and not trying to make it easy.<span style=""> </span>Ann didn’t understand a word of course, but it could have been a lot easier if they just said “Passport” as it’s almost identical in Japanese.<span style=""> </span>Once they saw my mom and I, they didn’t care nearly as much to check if she was visiting legally or not, but this racial profiling thing is quite depressing to see in action.<span style=""> </span>But, as mom said later: “they’re just doing their jobs.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The next day was a grueling 6 hour drive over around 300 kilometers, including 4 lane sections that moved maybe 5 kilometers over 1 hour during the worst of it.<span style=""> </span>The only redeeming part of it was being able to see Fuji.<span style=""> </span>When it was visible, it was hard to look at anything else.<span style=""> </span>Perhaps that’s why it’s famous; it’s so visible from so many different places.<span style=""> </span>We got in late to Odaiba and checked in, but were too late to see the Cirque Du Soleil that started at 4.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">What we were able to do though, was meet up with my cousin Ryan during his last day in Japan.<span style=""> </span>I hadn’t seen him in 3 years, so it was a bit of a shock.<span style=""> </span>We all went for food at a nearby mall, and walked around Odaiba.<span style=""> </span>We finished the night off on a trip up the Ferris Wheel Ann and I rode the week earlier.<span style=""> </span>I was impressed, and happy that mom took the trip with us despite her earlier fears.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We parted ways and called it a night.<span style=""> </span>In the morning we went to Shibuya to meet up with mom’s other friends: Hiro, his wife, and his daughter.<span style=""> </span>Together we took a train to Yokohama where we could watch a baseball game.<span style=""> </span>This was my first big professional game to watch, and Ann’s first big professional <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMlKvReVhv4VtF2ROTinXT8tptckQw1KwDODMDRporsfEDhyI6Je0l6AXnK21Xiv5OLG_Xp35vVqa4FrbS5R8BOwdpar-mWvLF_U7QshOjKT5mW3jEJAfETFaJ7oPCI2GWzCvmFeedhJQ/s1600/IMG_1358.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMlKvReVhv4VtF2ROTinXT8tptckQw1KwDODMDRporsfEDhyI6Je0l6AXnK21Xiv5OLG_Xp35vVqa4FrbS5R8BOwdpar-mWvLF_U7QshOjKT5mW3jEJAfETFaJ7oPCI2GWzCvmFeedhJQ/s320/IMG_1358.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475493738150958578" border="0" /></a>sport game of any kind; I needed to explain the rules to Ann so she wouldn’t be too lost.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When we first arrived, we were initially worried that we wouldn’t get tickets with golden week causing stadiums to be sold out all over the country, and the long line we were met with.<span style=""> </span>After some anxious line standing for a while, the other side was scouted and had no line at all.<span style=""> </span>Apparently how they work it, is one ticket line for the home team, and one for the visitors.<span style=""> </span>This just meant we would be cheering for the Hiroshima Carp and not the Yokohama Baystars.<span style=""> </span>Oh well (?).<span style=""> </span>The fan chants and songs were amazing regardless.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For $25 each, we had some amazing seats.<span style=""> </span>It was really hot initially, but the sun got low enough half way through the game, and what a game it was.<span style=""> </span>Almost every inning there was something exciting happening, and we saw almost everything you could want at a game, other than the team we were rooting for winning.<span style=""> </span>It wasn’t a heartbreaker, as I had lots of beer, and hot dogs, and fried rice among other things.<span style=""> </span>That’s not the only weird food item they were selling, and they also had things like KFC inside.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After the game, we went to the nearby China town.<span style=""> </span>I warned mom and Ann before, China Town is one of the most expensive places you’ll stumble across unfortunately, despite its reputation telling you it should be affordable.<span style=""> </span>We had an ok supper that was way overpriced and parted ways.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">May 6<sup>th</sup>, two days to go.<span style=""> </span>Despite that, we didn’t spend much time in Tokyo; instead we went back to Yokohama<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJzmmShmlEhcXusf48Vz1wQmkwE_vaKGWUk89fCHLi4GJmrwwwbBM7BrBxHsZu6unYB9_mZBtBnHYhVzH4MmGrZ5QzA2KBXq3DkR2ugXt0Gq5F6dQaV8A_QUGAvXPX87l8_CrIKmzGoSc/s1600/IMG_1274.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJzmmShmlEhcXusf48Vz1wQmkwE_vaKGWUk89fCHLi4GJmrwwwbBM7BrBxHsZu6unYB9_mZBtBnHYhVzH4MmGrZ5QzA2KBXq3DkR2ugXt0Gq5F6dQaV8A_QUGAvXPX87l8_CrIKmzGoSc/s320/IMG_1274.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475577890889613922" border="0" /></a> and walked around for most of the day.<span style=""> </span>Half of the walking was around the marvelous harbor area, and eating a dozen crispy cream donuts.<span style=""> </span>This was our first real time having them, and they tasted just like tasty donuts to me; I don’t see what the huge fuss over them is.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Yokohama is a beautiful place as you can see from my other pictures and stories from times I’ve been there.<span style=""> </span>Mom laughed when I used my compass, as apparently it’s a famous story she uses when she goes back home.<span style=""> </span>It retrospect it is amusing, but I find it wildly helpful, as Japan’s backwards maps always have North pointing in whatever direction they want, and the roads are twisty enough to make you lose your way in 10 minutes.<span style=""> </span>It was neat looking into the water this time, as it was oversaturated with jellyfish, and we even saw a huge rat swimming for shore.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Anyways with the lovely harbor behind us, we were in the huge China town again, thinking we could maybe find some affordable duck or something fun to eat.<span style=""> </span>Alas, despite there being over 100 restaurants, everyone perused had around the same overly expensive front.<span style=""> </span>Instead, Ann and Mom did their girl thing and look through some of the fun shops.<span style=""> </span>Atleast many of those places didn’t insult you; I wonder where Chinese people go for a taste of home.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For our final full day in Japan, we went to Tokyo to bum around.<span style=""> </span>To get there, we rode a sky train for a good while, and it was one beautiful ride.<span style=""> </span>I took lots of pictures, and my descriptions<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP8omwIsicmlYEdq08rph4UbEwShaQabYOw_vm3XLsQxQQApYjKm0y7uQhyphenhyphenA1RvYHaMK5auml2gULaOc_8cRBc5dPjpB7x5g3hLJHrNaeMUoROg_KZQZlJBem2opdQh5QjPMvctYAg8AI/s1600/IMG_1517.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP8omwIsicmlYEdq08rph4UbEwShaQabYOw_vm3XLsQxQQApYjKm0y7uQhyphenhyphenA1RvYHaMK5auml2gULaOc_8cRBc5dPjpB7x5g3hLJHrNaeMUoROg_KZQZlJBem2opdQh5QjPMvctYAg8AI/s320/IMG_1517.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475578421710450946" border="0" /></a> could never do it justice.<span style=""> </span>We went to Asakusa, a huge temple and flea market area, where the girls did the last of their shopping together.<span style=""> </span>We saw another orange tree, pagoda, and other nice stuff I’m sure I wrote about before in her last trip.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After a couple hours, I was spent, and we stopped for a kebab at a Turkish restaurant nearby to rest the feet.<span style=""> </span>It was raining on and off, so it wasn’t too bad to stick around the market district.<span style=""> </span>We briefly tried to walk to different areas until we got wet, then took a train to Ginza where we would meet Mervin again, and have our last supper in Japan.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Mervin got us reservations for a vampire restaurant.<span style=""> </span>The atmosphere naturally was amazing, complete with a coffin in the middle of the floor, a fully dress vampire waiter, and appropriately themed food and drinks.<span style=""> </span>On the limited menu were wonderful things like cow cheek meat.<span style=""> </span>While amazing, we were still hungry after, and went out later for a little something more.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was getting late already, so we went back to the hotel.<span style=""> </span>It was a busy, wonderful holiday, where I got sick once atleast, Ann got Ill, and on the last day mom completely lost her voice.<span style=""> </span>We spent the morning walking around Odaiba, partially saying goodbye to the place, before packing and driving to the airport.<span style=""> </span>We had breakfast in a fabulous mall, themed like ancient Rome.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">At the airport, the goodbye wasn’t as hard as it has been in the past; we both knew it was a “see you later.”<span style=""> </span>When I held Mom’s ticket to double check her gate, I briefly felt a tinge of jealousy; I really was ready to go back to Canada as well.<span style=""> </span>She had told Ann over and over to come, so we’ll work on the paperwork for that as well.<span style=""> </span>We watched her walk away, and reluctantly started to leave ourselves.<span style=""> </span>Ann went to the bathroom to shed a quick tear while I sat down in silent reflection.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was really wonderful for my Mom to come visit me yet again in Japan.<span style=""> </span>I’ll be back in 2 months myself;<span style=""> </span>I hope I have come closer to being the kind of man I aspire to be, and feel truly ready to leave this wonderful chapter of my life, and start a brand new one.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ann and I went back to the now even quieter <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_G8fbdNvmvYd91ybFoWp4i_GTLuew_QmJqaQHaK__0rc0uKwalgKd55BkHnh_chCy3C-ZaczvjzsxLzI3HtKrxapwMUNbK9DJSUi0xHqkt-TMeRKBrPMdG8tEqUCYQFn-lsHk-ntfiX0/s1600/IMG_1482.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_G8fbdNvmvYd91ybFoWp4i_GTLuew_QmJqaQHaK__0rc0uKwalgKd55BkHnh_chCy3C-ZaczvjzsxLzI3HtKrxapwMUNbK9DJSUi0xHqkt-TMeRKBrPMdG8tEqUCYQFn-lsHk-ntfiX0/s320/IMG_1482.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475579353423379938" border="0" /></a>apartment room, had a simple supper, and to our surprise in the morning, there was Mom calling me on Skype.<span style=""> </span>She had got home ok, and my brother John was already thanking me for his present.<span style=""> </span>In fact, the time that she called in Canada, was the exact same time her plane left Japan.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It made me feel silly for being sad in the first place.<span style=""> </span>We had a wonderful trip, and soon I’ll be back at home, eating her great cooking and having different crazy adventures before taking off on another big one.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">"Adventure is not outside man; it is within." -David Grayson <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">tnoy<o:p></o:p></p>Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-43842472468570813232010-05-17T07:00:00.000-07:002010-05-17T08:30:52.621-07:00Three Girls and I in KansaiOur first real day in Kyoto was rather pleasant.<span style=""> </span>We started that day, as we did every day after that, by visiting the station’s competitively priced restaurants.<span style=""> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid98ZhAzeGyjk8a02XrfyuN-f_R6z-wzyGvhn6WuFFmpdgpnWy8iDsXuXOwAyWtfOFqQvYIbXJhAXcX2MpaqNb50ewOMn36yjYNSpT2pjcSgKknaYDJ70GWVDDinWQ72m6eF3yo399x4o/s1600/IMG_0980.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid98ZhAzeGyjk8a02XrfyuN-f_R6z-wzyGvhn6WuFFmpdgpnWy8iDsXuXOwAyWtfOFqQvYIbXJhAXcX2MpaqNb50ewOMn36yjYNSpT2pjcSgKknaYDJ70GWVDDinWQ72m6eF3yo399x4o/s320/IMG_0980.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472239419618051986" border="0" /></a>One thing I do love about Japan, is many places don’t blatantly try to rip you off like they would in North America, even if they’re in a huge station or a rare festival. <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We decided to see one of the bigger temples; Kyo Mizu.<span style=""> </span>I had gone before, and Noriko sees it every fall for the changing colours, but it’s in a good area and beautiful.<span style=""> </span>Ann got to see her first orange tree, and has asked me periodically when I will show her an apple tree in Japan (I’ll get to it soon enough).</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A nice philosophy my mom has, is to just wander and find things that way.<span style=""> </span>As we learnt on her last trip, you never know what wonders you’ll stumble upon when you stray from the beaten path.<span style=""> </span>We soaked up the atmosphere of the temple, then later the district of Gion; (once?) famous for its teahouses and Geisha.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was talked about in “Memoirs of a Geisha” and I even messaged Neal to double check, but seeing it in person was nothing like I expected.<span style=""> </span>Of course, it’s ridiculous in the first place for me to think a very busy and expensive piece of Japan in a major city would be anything like it was over 60 years ago.<span style=""> </span>Alas we saw no Geisha or Maiko ladies walking around,<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiblyrzZ02hphcMvic1qymD3xJyIBSlE8Ql8rtQ4x3gMlK16_lxdrmT3jIo0TRY3LCl8jSbVBgDh5TJdN02BdhpuBgcaTWpIcXlGPNGwC_WNAZ-kDAe-b6-M-vK1mFdlZ9L0QvhG8aJbU/s1600/IMG_0997.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiblyrzZ02hphcMvic1qymD3xJyIBSlE8Ql8rtQ4x3gMlK16_lxdrmT3jIo0TRY3LCl8jSbVBgDh5TJdN02BdhpuBgcaTWpIcXlGPNGwC_WNAZ-kDAe-b6-M-vK1mFdlZ9L0QvhG8aJbU/s320/IMG_0997.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472239590175551010" border="0" /></a> but that didn’t stop us from enjoying the area (and making short stops in some of the many little shops) and laughing at some decorations, like a life-sized statue of a boy having his shorts pulled down by a dog, leaving his sculpted unmentionables hanging.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Personally I don’t like long periods of walking, and I found it amusing when Neal summed me up earlier to Ann and mom: “After a while he’ll start complaining, and over time the complaining will get louder, but it’s not a show stopper” or something like that.<span style=""> </span>True, I do carry around a lot more weight on me than I have this time last year, but I’m definitely on the road to correcting that.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">That being said, I love the chance to stop walking and take a break for a while before I get too tired.<span style=""> </span>Unfortunately usually the only practical break you can take is for a snack at one of the many different food stands you cross every 10 minutes or so.<span style=""> </span>One time I went for some Takoyaki (squid balls) and Ann protested with: “Tony, again?” much to Mom’s amusement.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I got the last laugh though; when the girls ate a ball as the same time <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8_H7F8HrVVu1aQtCXofqvok31YBGBR4mKR-eLfWGyq4mj0qYEWk9YVjY4wlDSRMWE1jPnDbarGGwh2zBeXK8w8MMiX3zWAHv7j9Q-W_e7hZhTucLcN-qNLXSt58nAHhwxqcWmt9JVfF8/s1600/IMG_1033.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8_H7F8HrVVu1aQtCXofqvok31YBGBR4mKR-eLfWGyq4mj0qYEWk9YVjY4wlDSRMWE1jPnDbarGGwh2zBeXK8w8MMiX3zWAHv7j9Q-W_e7hZhTucLcN-qNLXSt58nAHhwxqcWmt9JVfF8/s320/IMG_1033.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472240125658352546" border="0" /></a>and proceeded to burn their mouths, despite watching me burn mine and laughing at my expense mere moments earlier.<span style=""> </span>I got pictures to commemorate the occasion; all in good fun.<span style=""> </span>Another snack I got mom to try was Taiyaki.<span style=""> </span>It’s kind of like a fish-shaped donut with different filling, in this case, custard cream.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was a full day out, and it was topped off with more of that board game, for which mom was now completely hooked to.<span style=""> </span>This time Noriko won I believe.<span style=""> </span>We played one game to relax after all the walking, and later went out for a nice big bowl of ramen.<span style=""> </span>Through the window we could see the chef preparing his broth and it was very interesting.<span style=""> </span>For example, he sliced big cuts of apples to have its flavour boiled out among other things.<span style=""> </span>Once we got back to the hotel, we played another game and went to bed.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now it was May 1<sup>st</sup> and we found another affordable breakfast place to start the day.<span style=""> </span>The owner there was an older, grumpy looking <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqKsqn1mKpr5JFfR4rXs5qDRSmLGboLK0wFweAUydNw069MNg6ZYbKfcj-qadP3JM16bY28Zno_JOU7vGVlJvjI97kk7CDiYkHHYMpqXGsf-AztcLx1IhNp4KAtfPs4FW5XKDmoFL-Yw/s1600/IMG_1011.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqKsqn1mKpr5JFfR4rXs5qDRSmLGboLK0wFweAUydNw069MNg6ZYbKfcj-qadP3JM16bY28Zno_JOU7vGVlJvjI97kk7CDiYkHHYMpqXGsf-AztcLx1IhNp4KAtfPs4FW5XKDmoFL-Yw/s320/IMG_1011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472239862481178290" border="0" /></a>lady working the till, who barked orders at the fearful young waitress who were running back and forth to appease her.<span style=""> </span>Mom was in awe, so she took my camera to snap a picture; much like she had done that morning to capture another girl’s high-heeled shoes that were shaped like hearts <3</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We talked about things to do, and a day trip to Osaka came up.<span style=""> </span>I went over things to do there, like Universal Studios, the Zoo, and a world-class aquarium, but the girls overruled all that with “shopping”.<span style=""> </span>In a half panic, I foolishly asked: “You can’t shop all day though, can you?” perhaps hoping we could do something more or different; something I didn’t find so mundane.<span style=""> </span>Their answer to me was tear-filled laughter.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Since I’m out of my league on this issue, I’m not one to comment really.<span style=""> </span>One thing girls can do is ‘shop’ for hours on end, when usually they do little more than gawk at all the things in stores (maybe?)<span style=""> </span>A couple times I went and found a chair while the girls attempted to saturate their shopping appetite.<span style=""> </span>By looking at stuff, trying it on, laughing at the ridiculous prices on some items and getting opinions on others.<span style=""> </span>Let the girls play though right? The malls were ridiculously busy because of the holiday.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Once again, I was very grateful Ann was there to bail me out, as on Mom’s last trip when she wanted advice from me, I could hardly sum up the energy to throw out an opinion on the item in question.<span style=""> </span>“I don’t know, whatever you like”<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl7UzuLPp9WL73WoEUSr4us3EfhMbU7FBY0XSpchfFQHuvXy9pRtjJnh9Jcv101lcVooL9BSQ1avHja8EZojo1fXqpEhg1-TCkwt2Ux7Dy49CTtJy0xvSabLnZMSTUvJh3FhGU2LDbpWw/s1600/IMG_1068.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl7UzuLPp9WL73WoEUSr4us3EfhMbU7FBY0XSpchfFQHuvXy9pRtjJnh9Jcv101lcVooL9BSQ1avHja8EZojo1fXqpEhg1-TCkwt2Ux7Dy49CTtJy0xvSabLnZMSTUvJh3FhGU2LDbpWw/s320/IMG_1068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472239043239281730" border="0" /></a> is my default answer as I look for the exit.<span style=""> </span>Ann stepped up and gave solid advice, and is a very savvy shopper; telling stories of Thailand and the bountiful shopping to be had there, allowing me to slip out and find somewhere to sit down. They really didn't buy too much though, it was more for the experience and girl bonding I'd think.
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My shopping experience wasn’t all bad however.<span style=""> </span>During one of the hours while the girls mulled over wallets (or maybe it wasn’t an hour and just felt that way) I happened to stumble by and start looking myself.<span style=""> </span>In about 10 minutes, Ann found a wonderful wallet for me at a very reasonable price.<span style=""> </span>My current wallet was a gift from my last girlfriend many a years ago, and had holes in it already despite being made of leather.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It had a change purse (seemingly rare for some reason), and room for various cards.<span style=""> </span>I was a bit reserved on the bold red colour at first, but it grew on me very fast.<span style=""> </span>It’s a “Michel Klein” as if that meant anything to me, but mom assured me it’s a “good brand”.<span style=""> </span>I was half expecting to tenderly throw out my old, faithful companion, that had been with me every day for many years and visited many countries, holding their diverse flavour of colourful monies for me; but before I could, mom chucked it into a small trash can near the escalator.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was a bit of a shock, but it was weird to be attached to a piece of leather<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA5Gysr6Kg2S0owyGL2zLUA6NU6_RaDO3ni5AAwJ1NeLrrzs733E9EBvvitGRtBjcRjyqLl5e5BoxwS5_EK4JlXMDW3ZQc74c5FgfzFKAQKgiv9ev9BVSScYfOmSsYHGktpTFMpoBjIJ0/s1600/IMG_1097.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA5Gysr6Kg2S0owyGL2zLUA6NU6_RaDO3ni5AAwJ1NeLrrzs733E9EBvvitGRtBjcRjyqLl5e5BoxwS5_EK4JlXMDW3ZQc74c5FgfzFKAQKgiv9ev9BVSScYfOmSsYHGktpTFMpoBjIJ0/s320/IMG_1097.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472240555095177618" border="0" /></a> like that in the first place.<span style=""> </span>That being said, I absolutely love the new one, as it came to life as I moved my items into it.<span style=""> </span>I guess that made it a good day of shopping, as the girls seemed satisfied too.<span style=""> </span>I convinced us to take a breather at a sushi train restaurant, which unfortunately was mom’s only stop at one this trip (she only had one plate too).<span style=""> </span>Ah well, she had her fill of raw fish I guess.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We didn’t eat too much, as after getting back and another game, we had our last meal together with Noriko; rice omelets.<span style=""> </span>We got the idea from watching them make the pretty dishes through a window in a mall earlier.<span style=""> </span>After lightly cooking a thin layer of eggs, fried rice is placed in the middle, so the chef can gently toss and fold the package up together in a pleasant yellow shell of egg.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We watched them in a mall where we were able to properly culture shock mom, and to a lesser extent Ann, as she is still fairly new.<span style=""> </span>A package of 9 strawberries for example was $8; almost a dollar each.<span style=""> </span>One melon was over $30, and things like kiwis, oranges, apples and grapefruit are over a dollar each.<span style=""> </span>This is just an example of the difficulties of buying fresh produce in Japan.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On the 2<sup>nd</sup> we needed to check out, and since it was golden week hotels everywhere were sold out.<span style=""> </span>My ‘great planning’ for the trip had a 2 day window of uncertainty<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwL7vpfW98iDW9hKWzj3b-UhAtz41B3rX_BZNxAy2BN4nV9p_c8icH-QrEBnaSXMLckT2hHyDxaGuhodomKomopiht1s8A9e1Ogm1klURGqYlc_AWYn0RV-bccuvjWE0QF7Lv0rZIw_bE/s1600/IMG_1123.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwL7vpfW98iDW9hKWzj3b-UhAtz41B3rX_BZNxAy2BN4nV9p_c8icH-QrEBnaSXMLckT2hHyDxaGuhodomKomopiht1s8A9e1Ogm1klURGqYlc_AWYn0RV-bccuvjWE0QF7Lv0rZIw_bE/s320/IMG_1123.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472246039482345298" border="0" /></a>, but after an hour of searching online, was able to find a so-so place to hole up in Nagoya; or next destination.<span style=""> </span>We would have liked to stay longer at the Kyoto place, as it really was fabulous, but time flies as they say.<span style=""> </span>We checked out, checked to leave our car until later, and took one last trip to Osaka to see its zoo, as Mom wasn’t feeling the aquarium.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I took maybe a hundred photos, but how much can I say about a zoo?<span style=""> </span>There were animals.<span style=""> </span>Many were cool, and many were in small cages it seemed.<span style=""> </span>I got to see a polar bear, a giraffe, and some other new ones like different forms of tigers.<span style=""> </span>The zoo was very, very busy, and not really that big.<span style=""> </span>I said to myself “this place is a zoo” before stopping myself at the obvious irony; and wondering who the real animals were, with all the crowding around tiny windows and the like people were doing.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In short, it was fun!<span style=""> </span>I was, as I always am, surprised with Ann, as it was her first time seeing some things like sheep.<span style=""> </span>We stayed for hours, but got tired and it was time to leave.<span style=""> </span>We went to the bathroom before the long train ride back, and mom accidentally <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZJpyWhYjiQmqQHYYYqlzbirq5dvt-wYYdMe3g1lOBPT2vcBfnUcWcf-D0FbBKhsdCmFHqGDl4qTb80OVKZzjXfSGJTwERPrhbcSlHsQB6wGzPyL0RChfQKr20ER7siSSfaWaLTHtBT1Q/s1600/IMG_1157.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZJpyWhYjiQmqQHYYYqlzbirq5dvt-wYYdMe3g1lOBPT2vcBfnUcWcf-D0FbBKhsdCmFHqGDl4qTb80OVKZzjXfSGJTwERPrhbcSlHsQB6wGzPyL0RChfQKr20ER7siSSfaWaLTHtBT1Q/s320/IMG_1157.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472246383656228626" border="0" /></a>pushed an alarm button instead of triggering an automatic hand blower.<span style=""> </span>Her and Ann cleared out quickly at this folly, and told me through barely muffled laughter to ‘keep walking and don’t look back’</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was a good drive to Nagoya; we found the place without hardly and troubles and settled right in.<span style=""> </span>Compared to the last place, it was an obvious dive, and the irony is it practically cost the same.<span style=""> </span>Beggars can’t be choosers I guess, as I shouldn’t have waited so long to book in the first place.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I think we were out of ‘Kansai’ now, roughly defined as ‘Western Japan’ even though I consider it to be somewhat central what with Hiroshima and other stuff further away.<span style=""> </span>It’s a reference largely to the Osaka/Kyoto area as I’m to believe.<span style=""> </span>Hopefully I can give you more updates before too long; I’m still busy but atleast I don’t feel like I’m drowning like last week.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">"One of the few things that can't be recycled is wasted time." -Sean Covey <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">tnoy<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment--> Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-28089242595505703282010-05-12T07:17:00.000-07:002010-05-12T07:31:36.227-07:00Flexible Plans Save the DayWell, mom came and left very successfully.<span style=""> </span>Friends were made, places were seen, and lots of fun was had.<span style=""> </span>I only got back late Sunday, spent hours sorting the hundreds of photos and videos, almost got sick (again) from exhaustion, but now can post. <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I last left off 2 weeks ago Monday, before things got really crazy.<span style=""> </span>I touched up my blog,<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJrl9JAYtk4rFfH5uAwd5NXofubvXo9kCJGQeL2UUtfPhmQz0kjE3wQA0DnCCMhKlPA0d-c7Xr0x5MoW3mpc7bn7m64Fhbtf2M1wyowun2JhQVJiVwPJrpPNp0SWKUYtcIc-2qg7gL5gA/s1600/IMG_0885.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJrl9JAYtk4rFfH5uAwd5NXofubvXo9kCJGQeL2UUtfPhmQz0kjE3wQA0DnCCMhKlPA0d-c7Xr0x5MoW3mpc7bn7m64Fhbtf2M1wyowun2JhQVJiVwPJrpPNp0SWKUYtcIc-2qg7gL5gA/s320/IMG_0885.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470390350649719186" border="0" /></a> finished and prepared all the stuff I needed to get done at work, and went home to take my mom out for lunch.<span style=""> </span>Because of the tight schedule, we only had this lunch free, and the one Tuesday.<span style=""> </span>One of these two days Ann was going to cook Thai food for us, but she needed to get ingredients first so that idea was pushed to Wednesday.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I took Mom to Café Doodoo, where she met Hiroko for the first time.<span style=""> </span>I thought they had met during her last trip, but I was mistaken.<span style=""> </span>It’s a good thing it worked out like that, as mom had many presents she needed to buy and Hiroko had lots of advice, and free time to spend with her on Wednesday.<span style=""> </span>I went to the office and got more work done, while she had a chance to shop with Ann for ingredients for Wednesday.<span style=""> </span>That night we went to an Enkai (work party) thrown by my base school.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was half a welcome party for the 3 new teachers, and welcome for Mom and Ann.<span style=""> </span>Mom came in earlier to everyone’s pleasure as some of the teachers from her last visit 2 years ago still carried fond memories of their last time together.<span style=""> </span>Mom felt better prepared this time to give out little gifts from Canada; from the little Canada pins, to some maple syrup, to hand-made dish towels with chocolate. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This was the second night in a row that we had raw fish, so mom quickly hit her limit.<span style=""> </span>There were other varieties<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVir0QiLJ6Olzl29nnl0fqcbkPGY5b7sWguAPMD_3ANYD-rez13t0Pp4XYWWnURk04FjqWzFWGJy6uaD6DyOnuZrn9XNh2_Q430DpnUWLvHLeqA4-0uhyphenhyphendICq5d7Y6c6H5r_zEch3Tsgw/s1600/IMG_0905.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVir0QiLJ6Olzl29nnl0fqcbkPGY5b7sWguAPMD_3ANYD-rez13t0Pp4XYWWnURk04FjqWzFWGJy6uaD6DyOnuZrn9XNh2_Q430DpnUWLvHLeqA4-0uhyphenhyphendICq5d7Y6c6H5r_zEch3Tsgw/s320/IMG_0905.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470390044739333922" border="0" /></a> like pickled fish and sushi, but it was a bit too much too fast, so the rest of the trip didn’t include of that element.<span style=""> </span>One of the new teachers spent 3 years in Sri Lanka founding a national baseball team, so Mom scouted him as a future husband for my sister Patty.<span style=""> </span>Too bad for him though, I think she might be involved now.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We weren’t out late, as Tuesday was an early morning and a busy day at Tatsuno.<span style=""> </span>I was worried about my 3<sup>rd</sup> year students, as presently they’re the worst class I’ve had to teach since coming here, but I was thrilled they were respectful to mom, and listened to her story.<span style=""> </span>Later they even make questions.<span style=""> </span>Mom is a natural in front of the class, and it was cut short to Ann’s relief by a health exam the students have in Japan, saving her from talking about Thailand.<span style=""> </span>It’s not easy getting up in front of strangers and talking if you have no experience.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was a cold day, so the girls huddled around a heater, looked in fashion magazines, traded hand moisturizer and talked about stuff like that.<span style=""> </span>Despite any language barrier, this will always be a common language among girls.<span style=""> </span>Those two got along as if Ann was a long-lost daughter, so it was a bit eerie at first, but really it saved me from shopping in the long run.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After a couple more classes, games, meeting teachers and other fun, we were invited to watch the band perform.<span style=""> </span>They did two numbers and had some professional there to critique, so it wasn’t on the scale of mom’s last visit, but still nice.<span style=""> </span>We got in my car and started driving North to Matsumoto, as this was the only chance we had to see Neal. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Along the way I showed mom <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoBfSF0bglQz8fS677KaEZo0le3YembmqECfqkqnubspj8teoKdFprtuPKWx6T-70SDKjYfb2O8CNzbCzpyoC5S-JOe7zEAju5qqweotnDnWmGoOsGbNyx9IWtulq_YAFgVE5sNvl1OHQ/s1600/IMG_0909.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoBfSF0bglQz8fS677KaEZo0le3YembmqECfqkqnubspj8teoKdFprtuPKWx6T-70SDKjYfb2O8CNzbCzpyoC5S-JOe7zEAju5qqweotnDnWmGoOsGbNyx9IWtulq_YAFgVE5sNvl1OHQ/s320/IMG_0909.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470388735547060258" border="0" /></a>the ‘crazy’ Bull Dog store of strange items, where she found some more presents to her delight, including an alarm clock that screamed like a chicken.<span style=""> </span>It was a good reunion, for Ann and I too, as we haven’t seen him in over a month.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After chats and gift exchanges, Neal treated us to an East Indian Restaurant that had live music, and we all really enjoyed it.<span style=""> </span>It was even more so for mom, as she has never had that caliber of this brand of ethnic food.<span style=""> </span>I feel for her too, so much is lost at a buffet line as I think I’ve experienced in Regina before, sometime in the past.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We got a 4-person course, and were full from the appetizers, so when the main course of Nan and Curry came by, we were struggling.<span style=""> </span>I had some cheese and honey Nan (bread?) that was so amazing, that I was an idiot by trying to finish my meal.<span style=""> </span>I simply ate too much and was in a bit of pain.<span style=""> </span>The ride home was over an hour long, and Ann had to help me out by talking with me to keep me from getting too drowsy.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Wednesday was the last day of work for a long time, and I only had one class.<span style=""> </span>Mom <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKycUmnTWAdZrgQSTRBSXla39lJeYf0lwhg6ZCkSrcZ78FbjU2OxR_d1KJ7tJ1Ql3esRLfZoncD3XeZ8Rrg6Fxxc_mVrOnk_LHJaG7vLOb3kw9Yx7xmRL8xsee7w-aCUsVg1ZfzghPN9I/s1600/IMG_0926.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKycUmnTWAdZrgQSTRBSXla39lJeYf0lwhg6ZCkSrcZ78FbjU2OxR_d1KJ7tJ1Ql3esRLfZoncD3XeZ8Rrg6Fxxc_mVrOnk_LHJaG7vLOb3kw9Yx7xmRL8xsee7w-aCUsVg1ZfzghPN9I/s320/IMG_0926.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470388915823041746" border="0" /></a>and Ann worked on lunch while I went to work for a half day, getting all I needed done for the holiday.<span style=""> </span>I came home for lunch and Hiroko joined us.<span style=""> </span>Ann whipped up yet another amazing Thai feast: salad, soup, curries and fried rice; all practically made from scratch.<span style=""> </span>She even had a separate batch for my mom that wasn’t very spicy, although I think mom was starting to ‘warm up’ to a little spice in her food. (pun intended?)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After eating the girls went out shopping.<span style=""> </span>Hiroko was busy in the evening, so we kept it local and not in Matsumoto as originally planned; Neal was busy anyways.<span style=""> </span>The girls had fun doing their thing, and we stumbled upon a pet shop, where we could see cats and/or dogs with a price tag worth over three thousand dollars.<span style=""> </span>Ann always laughed when we saw a shop after that: “come to Thailand, you can get them for free!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After a fulfilling afternoon we went North again, but this time to Okaya.<span style=""> </span>I had chatted with Mervin a couple days earlier saying how my mom was coming, and he suggested a small welcoming potluck party at his place; something simple right?<span style=""> </span>Mom praised me for having a schedule for her, although I felt it to be slapstick, improvised and flexible, but what more do you need right?<span style=""> </span>Try and do too much, and it won’t be as fun.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Maybe I’ve taken for granted what nice people I’ve come to known, as mom kept talking about what an amazing party Mervin threw.<span style=""> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7JtRKtXCHWzcA067pq2z6kYH9HllFZfE6qkN0VTrih6UWxVjytTosixWx9cTv7fMFTN4j95Jk73Bq8GQsVB85tyVcXp3TE-126sh4SXmZ1kFDl37AvEh_z_tRxDGp6BFFi4krRh6M9wo/s1600/IMG_0939.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7JtRKtXCHWzcA067pq2z6kYH9HllFZfE6qkN0VTrih6UWxVjytTosixWx9cTv7fMFTN4j95Jk73Bq8GQsVB85tyVcXp3TE-126sh4SXmZ1kFDl37AvEh_z_tRxDGp6BFFi4krRh6M9wo/s320/IMG_0939.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470389190315160786" border="0" /></a><span style=""> </span>There were about 15 to 20 people and everyone brought a little something to munch on, including mom, who brought some of her poppy seed bread from Cananda.<span style=""> </span>Other highlights were Ann’s spring rolls and peanut sauce that were a huge hit, flowers from Lauren, and Aiko’s huge welcome cake. (yes, we're eating that cake with chopsticks)<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We all visited until 11 or so and I was getting tired, but someone suggested Karaoke and it was another “there won’t be a second chance” experience being offered.<span style=""> </span>Apparently this was Mom’s first try at Karaoke, and we even got Ann to sing a song or two (one was Jingle Bells).<span style=""> </span>After an hour and many people losing their voices, we were exhausted and parted ways; we partially planned to wake up early for Kyoto the next day.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But as fate would have it, I was sick in the morning; just pushing myself too hard maybe.<span style=""> </span>It was a slow start then, but it all worked out, as mom wanted me to fill a suitcase of things to take home for when I move out.<span style=""> </span>I really don’t think I have much to take home, but in no time that one suitcase was full and at the weight limit.<span style=""> </span>It was small things I’ve bought from various countries over the years, and some video games.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Still, to have started moving out makes the upcoming July that much more real.<span style=""> </span>I literally only have maybe 8 ‘free’ weekends left before going home, minus things like school festival and other stuff.<span style=""> </span>There is a small list of things I want to do before I go, as who knows if I’ll ever be back to Japan.<span style=""> </span>There are so many places to see and so many things to do, and I feel like I’ve mostly had my fill now.<span style=""> </span>It was an amazing 3 years, but time to move on.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So anyways, after that was packed, we got in the car and drove to Kyoto in an amazing 3 hours.<span style=""> </span>The bus takes 5 to 6 hours; it’s almost as if we were driving normally<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl38hKdEcRpe6evV5lLJzLpZnwHFN6lAbNKMBOzFct7pg4SHY4RJZ5MfMZhs9oJd48sccj4uxEOn_oIKItAujSNKpj3IB9RAR5Dgz5bhXZDlpGSMa3QRG7Zbxl3CFbQh_CiMyLgGM141s/s1600/IMG_0968.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl38hKdEcRpe6evV5lLJzLpZnwHFN6lAbNKMBOzFct7pg4SHY4RJZ5MfMZhs9oJd48sccj4uxEOn_oIKItAujSNKpj3IB9RAR5Dgz5bhXZDlpGSMa3QRG7Zbxl3CFbQh_CiMyLgGM141s/s320/IMG_0968.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470390737000486418" border="0" /></a> in Canada to make that kind of time.<span style=""> </span>Noriko had found a wonderful hotel for us, right next to the station, and we found it fairly easily.<span style=""> </span>We settled in, and went to the station to meet her as she got off work.<span style=""> </span>For those who don’t remember, Noriko had a home stay in Canada some years ago, and mom is friends with her host parents.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We met up, went for food where I had delicious, but messy, curry udon, and since I was sick we were taking it easy that night.<span style=""> </span>We went back to the hotel and I taught mom how to play “The Settlers of Catan”, which turned out to be the first of many times for us to play, as mom really got into it.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">She won that first time playing, as beginner’s luck strikes again.<span style=""> </span>My theory on that is since you’re new to the game, everyone helps you out to understand the game, and invertible gives them a huge advantage in that sense. (ie: no don’t put your road there, this is better.<span style=""> </span>Or: save those cards and buy this instead)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I was hoping I could write more, and/or make it more entertaining, but alas, I’m super busy and will have to leave it like this until next week maybe.<span style=""> I'm mostly happy I got even this much done; so much happened, and so much is happening even now.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Look forward to our continuing adventure next week ^_^</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">"Life is not a problem to be solved, nor a question to be answered. Life is a mystery to be experienced." -Alan Watts<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">tnoy</p> <!--EndFragment-->Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-51417140716677353102010-04-26T05:35:00.000-07:002010-04-26T05:42:54.231-07:00It’s a Small World After AllA huge cliché, true, but a nice opener for saying we went to Disney Land on Saturday before my mom arrived in Japan Sunday.<span style=""> </span>I’ll try and refrain from making this a list of what I ate, when, and with who, so let’s just say Ann cooked a few times again this week, and it was all delicious again. <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On Friday we left Ina and drove to Tokyo.<span style=""> </span>It would be cheaper, if only slightly, to pick mom up in the car rather than by bus/train and whatever tickets for 3 people back to Ina.<span style=""> </span>That, and I always secretly<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDdQspCDL3lx-J35Hz3nubdt8O2c_7h-153JQ6hGQ_ohinSEEs93yeO7Zb4n0QWFl_pHtodGcpfYWtC7UtOLmfcR-pDppuSG4qV3odf3VyeGl5FjrS4FDEoY4gpaUu6VFOmksN7_T0L4Q/s1600/IMG_0718.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDdQspCDL3lx-J35Hz3nubdt8O2c_7h-153JQ6hGQ_ohinSEEs93yeO7Zb4n0QWFl_pHtodGcpfYWtC7UtOLmfcR-pDppuSG4qV3odf3VyeGl5FjrS4FDEoY4gpaUu6VFOmksN7_T0L4Q/s320/IMG_0718.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464424111567257954" border="0" /></a> wanted to drive in Tokyo before, one of the biggest cities in the world?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After a couple hours, I soon discovered my car is much better on the highway as opposed to the little roads I hail from.<span style=""> </span>I later discovered my car has an “overdrive”, so maybe that’s what’s been eating my fuel too.<span style=""> </span>Anyways, getting to Tokyo was easy enough, but driving around it is something else.<span style=""> </span>The highways/tolls lose their names and become numbered.<span style=""> </span>The directions I printed off didn’t help, but a few well placed<br />“rainbow bridge” signs saved the day, as Mervin helped us find a cheap hotel in/at the harbor: Odaiba.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We arrived shortly later after some small panic attacks on 4 lane roads; far removed from the single lane roads I’m used to. I paid for the two nights, and quickly realized I had spent $300 already that weekend.<span style=""> </span>I asked Ann what she wanted for supper, and the convenience store in our hotel was good enough because it was cheap.<span style=""> </span>Haha, she’s a fun girl.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">She laughed when she saw the room and took pictures right away so that she could show her friends what a $120 a night hotel in Tokyo looks like.<span style=""> </span>I thought it was nice, if not small, but really that’s about as cheap as you’re going to get.<span style=""> </span>Japan charges per person, not per room.<span style=""> </span>I don’t know, I thought the room was nice anyways, and lucky for us it’s a “good neighbor” with Disney Land, meaning free shuttle bus to and from the park.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ann asked why we didn’t just drive up Saturday and save lots of money.<span style=""> </span>It was because I wanted to spend the whole day at Disney land instead of<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzwfX1UNR8Rm5I-2w_sQeH0ibGYKEkiWBAzEKGd2_VATUKxMnUp3v-pLftHrLIo274sxE2Dov_08v4Wg3xemAAuCM8oDKEMXOdZFa1byz9d0LmdIsOSOqsQ5IR7-adj9dCVRyRaK8pjW4/s1600/IMG_0727.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzwfX1UNR8Rm5I-2w_sQeH0ibGYKEkiWBAzEKGd2_VATUKxMnUp3v-pLftHrLIo274sxE2Dov_08v4Wg3xemAAuCM8oDKEMXOdZFa1byz9d0LmdIsOSOqsQ5IR7-adj9dCVRyRaK8pjW4/s320/IMG_0727.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464424538801447810" border="0" /></a> losing ½ the day in the car.<span style=""> </span>Even 1 day is not enough; she wanted to go on all the rides but there simply wasn’t time.<span style=""> </span>She had cautious optimism at first, but before long was running around with me from ride to ride and sampling the various colors of foods; mostly as bites off what I has bought.<span style=""> </span>This included those huge and lovely smoked Turkey legs I got last time I went with Neal over 2 years ago.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We hit over a dozen rides.<span style=""> </span>Some were a bit small and disappointing, but those were really rare.<span style=""> </span>For example, Snow White’s and Pinocchio’s rides were designed to be nightmares, with very brief interludes into a cherry house or whatever fun memories I still had.<span style=""> </span>I want to watch the movies again to jog my memory.<span style=""> </span>We did other stuff too like go-karts, so Ann drove a car for the first time, even if it was on a very strict and slow track.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Show stealers were the roller coasters.<span style=""> </span>I found out, to make me worry, she’s a roller coaster junkie.<span style=""> </span>Big, crazy, and all that stuff that makes me horrified<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXt6Yp48LSVxSXC-0NQT4YYrurtUfDIkjVV_Z7WMiJ7sNP9MVVLBrKeNWEwN8PxWo1x-JA2kbWOjLAvdGJRlF8ivEmKzLWZRtBwvWDofjdWcwUXJu7bl_lyFRlDxa9ypomjdPbnLQBees/s1600/IMG_0751.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXt6Yp48LSVxSXC-0NQT4YYrurtUfDIkjVV_Z7WMiJ7sNP9MVVLBrKeNWEwN8PxWo1x-JA2kbWOjLAvdGJRlF8ivEmKzLWZRtBwvWDofjdWcwUXJu7bl_lyFRlDxa9ypomjdPbnLQBees/s320/IMG_0751.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464424764792942002" border="0" /></a> she loves.<span style=""> </span>I told her about Disney Sea’s tower of terror, and she wanted to run over right away and try it.<span style=""> </span>Maybe we’ll have to go to that park in the future, but I swore to never take that ride again.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I can do small bursts and such, those are fun; what I don’t like are the drops, or cruising downhill.<span style=""> </span>Splash Mountain was open this time, and the big drop it proudly advertised at its front shocked me.<span style=""> </span>This tainted the whole experience for me, as instead of enjoying the ride, I dreaded that huge drop that came up.<span style=""> </span>When it came, I tried my best, but my face still twisted in horror as I saw on the photo.<span style=""> </span>Looking at Ann though, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone smile so wide and be that happy before.<span style=""> </span>I’ll have to talk with Neal and see if he wants to do FujiQ roller coaster park with her maybe while I stand around like a wimp :)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The parades were spectacular again, with the night light parade stealing the show for us.<span style=""> </span>By chance, we had practically front row seats as it sailed by, so maybe those feelings are biased.<span style=""> </span>It really was magical though.<span style=""> </span>I remember someone saying a while back, that nothing really is half-ass at Disney Land.<span style=""> </span>It’s clean, details and designs are everywhere, and it all is in top shape.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We spent 12 hours running around, waiting in line, and so on.<span style=""> </span>After the fireworks show we went to our bus, got back to our hotel, and barely had the energy to eat a quick supper from the convenience <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGA8FkpfnwFneGtOoRK7L7hNpqkwVfpMhk2W1g9glNlfp-srQFfj7UVL-qttFyxK56omXpC4vv1jwaS8UPsziaWdRMd0-Q1N0DcZhTLLHxg9L5DMB7eYy8qSki26-PJJ3UaIN4IVgjq2I/s1600/IMG_0836.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGA8FkpfnwFneGtOoRK7L7hNpqkwVfpMhk2W1g9glNlfp-srQFfj7UVL-qttFyxK56omXpC4vv1jwaS8UPsziaWdRMd0-Q1N0DcZhTLLHxg9L5DMB7eYy8qSki26-PJJ3UaIN4IVgjq2I/s320/IMG_0836.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464425170054881218" border="0" /></a>store again before falling asleep.<span style=""> </span>We deservedly slept in Sunday and had some time before going to the airport.<span style=""> </span>She had never seen or rode a Ferris wheel before, and we could see one nearby.<span style=""> </span>It told us it was the Guinness’ World Record holder in 1999, but while very high, having all those huge buildings not so far away made us feel not as high above the clouds as you’d get in a place like Regina.<span style=""> </span>We loved it regardless.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">At the airport we waited for an hour for my mom.<span style=""> </span>Instead of being held back by language barriers and stuff like Ann did, she was held back by long lines, and not knowing where to go; waiting for us to show up inside the area we couldn’t enter.<span style=""> </span>She made her way eventually, and it was good to see her again after over a year.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The trip back through Tokyo was a challenge, and traffic was ugly.<span style=""> </span>Mom got sick on the plane from a combination <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCR1kkM80lsrjFtIdCjIKa0aI-0c21x9jUKTjNDlCWQi1nLe-Oy_YpdNoIPbcFz4KcbjbRqmYzE9rLuIc-We06cXACYgIWmgADznoZ4HQ_SVsJfIi3m3k9iVHgL0KPqQpK7NFwhjj1i7g/s1600/IMG_0846.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCR1kkM80lsrjFtIdCjIKa0aI-0c21x9jUKTjNDlCWQi1nLe-Oy_YpdNoIPbcFz4KcbjbRqmYzE9rLuIc-We06cXACYgIWmgADznoZ4HQ_SVsJfIi3m3k9iVHgL0KPqQpK7NFwhjj1i7g/s320/IMG_0846.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464425454573273330" border="0" /></a>of a horrible landing and bad airplane food, then again later in the hot traffic wherever we were stuck in Tokyo.<span style=""> </span>Once we figured out the numbers and road signs from a map we got from a toll guy, getting around wasn’t so tough or scary anymore.<span style=""> </span>It took 4 hours to get back to Ina, and we even saw Mount Fuji along the way.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We met up with Ono Sensei, and it was a great reunion after how many years.<span style=""> </span>Mom only has 2 short weeks here, and 3 or 4 of those days are spent busy around our area, seeing as many people as we can.<span style=""> </span>That being said, this update will be short, and I won’t be able to update for another 2 weeks (until she leaves).<span style=""> </span>It will be a great Golden Week holiday ^_^<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">"In order to live happily and free, you may have to sacrifice boredom. It is not always an easy sacrifice." -Richard Bach <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">tnoy</p> <!--EndFragment-->Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2795488024948173556.post-28720932687697932342010-04-19T05:14:00.000-07:002010-04-19T05:27:56.761-07:00Sweet, Sweet RespiteSchool is pretty much back in full swing from spring holidays, so I’ve found myself with less free time than usual.<span style=""> </span>Uncompleted tasks started to build up until I made a to-do list and committed myself to cleaning it up, everything from sending my taxes home, to making itineraries, to job hunting.<span style=""> </span>I cleared off most of my list, and was unexpectedly hit with a weekend of relaxation. <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s always go go go with new things to do and see, but when a Canadian party was canceled at the last minute and most of<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEispsR5ucjgh5viWWMvKqRUJoXG_0Lccz79KXK6-VHzDtAC74l56mgoYd_VKq03zA9jQl6u74KvZ8rkOnJS6EIC7BMR7HrxfcdQHPZNavZdgGxrLm9fT6ZIvMXhWPEINye1qMpg6aoulJc/s1600/IMG_0617.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEispsR5ucjgh5viWWMvKqRUJoXG_0Lccz79KXK6-VHzDtAC74l56mgoYd_VKq03zA9jQl6u74KvZ8rkOnJS6EIC7BMR7HrxfcdQHPZNavZdgGxrLm9fT6ZIvMXhWPEINye1qMpg6aoulJc/s320/IMG_0617.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461823395577102386" border="0" /></a> my friends were busy that weekend, we weren’t exactly rushing to make new plans.<span style=""> </span>The week was fairly busy like usual, although it’s interesting just how different it is from last fall when I was tutoring, being tutored and so on.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now we mostly meet with Richard and eat out then watch a movie, or Ann cooks something up; on Wednesday she made yellow curry and Saturday was fried rice and tom yum soup.<span style=""> </span>She told me one of the best parts of being in Japan for her is being able to cook, even if it’s hard to find some ingredients.<span style=""> </span>I thought that was a bit strange, maybe she doesn’t have the chance often back in Thailand, what with the long hours and many days kept busy.<span style=""> </span>She used to be a housemaid, and lately it sounds like that’s the job she wants to return to.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">She’s pretty price conscience when we’re out shopping, perhaps still not coming to grip with how much more expensive <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6xKUDwA31x7nAyKEgEG1vSVtSHsxXCD5KWVEos32-SIHQkdcqEZ29-3jH2WpuBSPuI-UJsAdQRHKKtD9NbiumBL8ldK_wygKpbUA8m3G6pveLyBlUAAl4ZnhMK8DPoz94_sW6qUdnT_4/s1600/IMG_0647.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6xKUDwA31x7nAyKEgEG1vSVtSHsxXCD5KWVEos32-SIHQkdcqEZ29-3jH2WpuBSPuI-UJsAdQRHKKtD9NbiumBL8ldK_wygKpbUA8m3G6pveLyBlUAAl4ZnhMK8DPoz94_sW6qUdnT_4/s320/IMG_0647.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461823609712956242" border="0" /></a>things are in Japan.<span style=""> </span>I don’t blame her though, like when we saw one mango for $40 dollars, or a small box of cherries for $30.<span style=""> </span>Sometimes perhaps it is cheaper to eat out, as ironic as that is.<span style=""> </span>If it means a home cooked meal though, I’ll almost always chose that over eating out.<span style=""> </span>There are still lots of things to try in Japan though, like the Katsu-don we had on Monday with Rich. (breaded pork chop in a rice bowl)</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">I had a work welcome party Friday night again and it was fun despite walking over 20 minutes in the rain without an umbrella.<span style=""> </span>It was sort of a standard party, but still fun.<span style=""> </span>The teacher sitting across from me wanted to talk a lot, which was a nice change, and a good chance to use lots of Japanese.<span style=""> </span>I thought I had got a little rusty, as strange as that is, but it’s interesting how so much of the basic/intermediate grammar I memorized is not used in normal conversations.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">A lot of the week was plagued by ugly weather, from 3 days of rain to actual snow.<span style=""> </span>When I woke up Saturday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMEZdW_K5urAoOMU3o9Fu8TpmKQRgJyENwXSjlZJWR0m-cK36BKt785KQ56oGAnnYG3X0ISSxoUGOrZkKhP4v4gMeLp2kbjlFZC2Kf9k46StFjqu5__fcC8-ErcaRb6Ktz8DGAUpwoLgc/s1600/IMG_0649.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMEZdW_K5urAoOMU3o9Fu8TpmKQRgJyENwXSjlZJWR0m-cK36BKt785KQ56oGAnnYG3X0ISSxoUGOrZkKhP4v4gMeLp2kbjlFZC2Kf9k46StFjqu5__fcC8-ErcaRb6Ktz8DGAUpwoLgc/s320/IMG_0649.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461823966729859426" border="0" /></a> morning and saw the ground covered, I groaned and went back to bed.<span style=""> </span>Ann was excited though, and luckily it was a beautiful day.<span style=""> </span>We walked around that morning and got pictures of cherry blossoms surrounded by snow before it all melted, an irony my teacher said she’s never experienced in her life yet.<span style=""> </span>That’s still the best sound in the world in my opinion; the sound of snow melting on a sunny day.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">It all melted fast enough and the day was beautiful.<span style=""> </span>While we were walking, Ann noticed green onions growing wild on a hill near my house.<span style=""> </span>Not that long ago she took what I always thought were weeds in my backyard and put some in the fridge.<span style=""> </span>Sure enough, they’re herbs of some sort that she pointed out in a supermarket later.<span style=""> </span>One man’s weeds are another woman’s garnish I guess.<span style=""> </span>That, or I’m just ignorant with spices; I really have to figure them out sometime.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">We had sushi for brunch, and visited some stores to peruse.<span style=""> </span>We went to a “bull dog” store where you get crazy things like my Hello Kitty bed sheets, or that gag gift can of sex toys I got my brother John for Christmas 2 years ago.<span style=""> </span>Later we saw some more stores, and I showed her the amazing Japanese 100 yen store ($1 store approx).<span style=""> </span>Not do be outdone; they have a 20 baht store in Thailand (a 60 cents store).<span style=""> </span>Regardless we still got some good stuff, like Ann picked up some black thread so she could fix a button on my suit.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">We had even more luck in this different store as it has a mini-Thai section for spices and curries.<span style=""> </span>Ann’s eyes lit up, and she was ecstatic to find fish sauce, apparently vital for many dishes.<span style=""> </span>When she cooks, she has a very Thai approach (and somewhat Japanese) in buying the ingredients the day of.<span style=""> </span>In contrast, I like to plan my week ahead and only go shopping only once if possible; I picked up some beef and made Hamburger<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR8IHAo_Ns6Rc-uRJH-6Kwe6k3UzSX8ryLLYJeMuZ-_LipjHtd4BlRDvZ2nPb142qUrVtKpakfIgEjBrIj5HDTMcM5Ahy48AJiEpiNf23cLsVH8jKD8Bi1IUz9xIl0xg9n5Bc3ksF8rcA/s1600/IMG_0650.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR8IHAo_Ns6Rc-uRJH-6Kwe6k3UzSX8ryLLYJeMuZ-_LipjHtd4BlRDvZ2nPb142qUrVtKpakfIgEjBrIj5HDTMcM5Ahy48AJiEpiNf23cLsVH8jKD8Bi1IUz9xIl0xg9n5Bc3ksF8rcA/s320/IMG_0650.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461824259861328834" border="0" /></a> Helper on Wednesday; I still have lots of food I need to cook that I brought from Canada. <span style=""> </span>On that note, in the frozen food section, she was surprised to find that you can buy frozen vegetables.<span style=""> </span>Like I said earlier, she made some fried rice that night, and some delicious Thai soup.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">We had an even lazier day Sunday and watched a lot of Futurama.<span style=""> </span>I’m excited the show is starting up again after Fox canceled it almost 6 years ago.<span style=""> </span>We only left the house once to buy ingredients for pizza this time.<span style=""> </span>The pizza I made was such a monster it left a mess in my oven, and served its purpose again for breakfast.<span style=""> </span>It was another very good day, even though we did so little.<span style=""> </span>With a stomach full of pizza, I went to bed embarrassingly early at 10, but doing so leaves me with lots of energy to polish off the rest of my to-do list.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">On that list is touching up my mom’s itinerary.<span style=""> </span>She will arrive next week everyone is excited to see her again.<span style=""> </span>On that note, I don’t know if I’ll be able to post on time next Monday, but if I can’t, it should come sometime during the week.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">"Never believe that a few caring people can't change the world. For, indeed, that's all who ever have." -Margaret Mead <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">tnoy<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->Tnoyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18360714402696412229noreply@blogger.com0