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| I: NEIGHBORHOODS
While walking around Greenpoint today, I finally realized what Greenpoint reminds me of. I’d been thinking on it for a while, but I’ve at last figured it out. Greenpoint feels like Hirakata-shi. The neighborhood isn’t busy enough or bustling enough to pass off as a part of New York City. The buildings are too low. Too many warehouses and parking lots dot the landscape.
I like living in Greenpoint because I feel like I’ve settled down. My neighborhood is peaceful; all of my needs can be found within a few blocks, but I’m not sure that the fit is right. I’m beginning to think that a little more furor might do me some good.
II: EASIEST DAY EVER
This past Friday, my school took a day trip to Washington, D.C. They departed around 7.00 AM and returned at 10.30 PM. I was not with them. I was originally scheduled to accompany my class on the trip, but as the number of non-attending students skyrocketed, I was asked to remain behind with the leftover children. I did so happily.
Instead of waking up at 4.00 AM to reach Harlem by 6.00 AM and returning to Brooklyn around 11.00 PM, I rose at my usual 6.00 PM and got home earlier than normal, 4.00 PM.
The day was pretty good, too. The school expected twenty to thirty children to show up, but only five came, and I knew all five of them pretty well. I had them play word and number puzzles. I led them in a rousing round of bingo. We ate lunch, ran around for half an hour in gym class, made some origami animals, and finally watched “Spirited Away.” Dear Reader, as a former schoolchild yourself, doesn’t that sound like a great day?
III: HAVE A SEAT
There are a few things that irk me to no end.
Litter is one. No one – and I mean NO ONE – enjoys looking at litter as they walk down the street, so don’t people do their part and wait until they reach a trash can to throw out their own litter? Daily, I watch construction workers, schoolchildren, and otherwise elegant businessman carelessly discard motes and orts and miscellanea of all sorts. A cigarette butt here, a receipt there won’t destroy the environment, but it might diminish my enjoyment of the fine weather.
Tipping is another. I abhor tipping. Why not pay waiters like humans and raise prices across the board? The uncertainty that tipping creates and the dance of making fair change for all parties involved rankle. Why can’t the United States progress to the level of Japan and split everything 別々? We’re a first-world country, so why can’t we abolish this feudal practice?
The one that rises to mind most hatefully at the moment is standing. When I go to bars, I want to relax with friends. At the end of the day, how on earth can I relax when the venue is so packed that I cannot even sit down? How can I relax when I have to hold my arms cocked at an angle to keep my drink from spilling? After walking to the subway, likely standing while riding the subway, and then walking to my destination, why would I want to remain standing thereafter? On four nights in recent memory, I have promptly exited bars, at the expense of ditching friends and social obligations, because I could not sit down. My simple stance: I won’t stand for it.
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| I: KICKS
Since graduating high school, I haven’t fared particularly well in the snow. In college, I never wanted to lug around heavy boots, so I eschewed them and prayed that campus snow removal services would perform their jobs before I needed to leave the comfort of my dorm room for class. Last year, I bought a pair of rubber fisherman boots for five hundred yen (~ five dollars). My feet were always cold but never damp. This year, I’ve been miserable. I have no boots. I haven’t been able to find fisherman boots either.
As I left for the gym this afternoon, I dreaded the prospect of cold, wet feet, so I did the only thing that I could. I liberated two plastic bags from the ever more crowded confines of the kitchen bag drawer and tied them around my feet.
Walking down the street to the gym, my kicks caught stares. Tramping into the gym, each of the three attendants looked at me, nodded, turned away, and then whirled around to comment. “What on earth happened to your feet?” “Eh. You look like you’re from Alaska.” “Nice kicks.”
I laughed. My feet were dry.
II: HMM…
I am a second grade teacher. I was recently called into my principal’s office and reprimanded for giving one of my students second grade work. The conversation did not proceed exactly as follows, but it very well might have.
Principal: ---- can’t do second grade work.
Me: I know. I told you this at the beginning of the year.dd
P: So… why are you giving ---- second grade work?
M: Because he’s in second grade.
P: But he can’t do the work.
M: Then he shouldn’t be in second grade.
P: But he is in second grade.
M: So he should do second grade work.
P: No. He can’t do second grade work, so he won’t do second grade work.
M: Is he still in the second grade?
P: Yes.
M: But he won’t be doing second grade work?
P: Right.
M: Okaaay…
I understand that different students have different talents and that different students excel at different subjects and under different conditions. I was a prototypical valedictorian. I finished tests in twenty minutes and picked up a book to finish off the rest of the time.
I understand that different students enter and exit classes at different levels, and that teaching strategies and expectations need to be adjusted slightly to accommodate those disparities.
I understand that in public schools especially, levels are all over the place. It is not uncommon to have special needs students and honors students in the same class.
That all said, the case of my student is a bit… different, and I’m not sure that reasonable accommodations can be made. Last year, ---- failed first grade. He went through kindergarten and first grade unable to read, and he was slated to retake first grade this year. For some reason, the principal inserted him into my grade. When ---- entered, he was able to read two words: “I” and “the.” Now, he can read maybe seventy-five words, but he cannot read enough to read even the first story of the first grade reader independently.
My principal has requested that I assign ---- different homework and different spelling words each week. I must prepare different math assessments for him. She wants him to pass second grade.
Does any of this seem wrong to you? If you place a person in a situation he is ill equipped to handle, he will most likely fail. If you place a child in a situation he is ill equipped to handle, he will fail. Children are not adults; they cannot be expected to “learn as they go.” They cannot be expected to “rise to the occasion.” Two months into the school year, I expected ---- to fail. I expected him to take second grade over again. I still do. In his case, I do not view failure as a punishment. I do not view it as a “lesson” either. I view it as a chance to practice, to acquire the skills that his counterparts take for granted. If he is continually advanced as he has been advanced, if he is given independent assessment in the name of passing, I fear that he will never catch up. I fear that he will fall through the cracks that I never even glimpsed on my way through our educational system. But he might pass now. He might be an illiterate third grader next year, at a time when I was reading the Chronicles of Narnia in the early mornings.
The principal demands different work, separate standards. My principal needs to heed her lessons better. Separate is not equal.
III: QUICK HITS
I’ve had some good days of late. I’ve had some horrible ones, too.
- I passed my JLPT certification.
- I may have found a path to wander down. More on that next time.
- I enjoyed a few fantastic dates.
- I started Japanese class.
- One day last week, everything went my way.
- One day last week, nothing went my way. I hit a nadir eating shawarma by myself in the middle of the night.
- I rested on my laurels this Wednesday, a snow day.
- My sister arrives in New York City tomorrow night.
- Melvin finally fixed Jonah’s closet doors, which I somehow broke a few months back.
- I’ve taken to keeping a candle in my room.
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| I: THE JOURNAL, DWELLING ON TORIE’S EXIT, and SO ON…
The delay between my last post and this one likely hasn’t alarmed you, dear reader. I posted infrequently in Japan, and I’ve posted yet less frequently since my return to America. Dear reader, the past few months have been messy.
I moved to New York jobless, accepted the first job offer I received without researching it at all, and I plunged myself into a few situations that I probably should have steered clear of to begin with. After twelve months of relative peace, I felt emo within my first two weeks. Issues I hadn’t had to deal with for years bubbled up to the surface, and I’ve been dealing with their ripples ever since.
I have written intermittently because my compulsions to write often stem from personal rather than observational phenomena. To phrase them neutrally, I often defer writing, but I’d rather be selfish now. I want to write, and I want what I write to be read.
Dear reader, Torie, in a not so carefully worded yet eminently wise goodbye post, decried what she saw as the “catty” nature of blogs, and I can only hope that I have earned and will continue to earn her approval there.
II: HER FEARFUL SYMMETRY or MESSES
This evening, I polished off the last one hundred and twenty pages of Audrey Niffenegger’s “Her Fearful Symmetry.” I ordered the book ignorant of its content. My love for “The Time Traveler’s Wife” knows few bounds, so I placed my blind faith in her prowess. “The Time Traveler’s Wife” inspired me. It presented me an intensely beautiful, though intensely violent, love, and I believe that I internalized more than a few of the qualities of that love into my own conception of it. The book ended tragically, but beyond that tragedy, love endured beautifully, if melancholically.
Stories of loss do not faze me. Loss is real; it wounds, and recovery is often slow, sometimes lasting years. To me, “Revolutionary Road” (the film) is beautiful. “The Time Traveler’s Wife” (the book) is beautiful. “Brokeback Mountain” (the film) is beautiful. “The Lovely Bones” (the book) is beautiful. Loss of sentiment or of feeling, cold-heartedness, on the other hand, wounds me quickly and dearly. Unrequited love wounds me.
“Her Fearful Symmetry” has laid me low, dear reader.
I do not write eloquently enough to even attempt a summary of the book, so I will skip to the conclusion. This story is a story of missed opportunity and lost love, of vindictiveness and selfishness. It is a book that spurs contemplation rather than inspiring celebration. I wish that I could unread it.
Since returning to New York, I have desired, and I have been desired, each instance unequal in scale, and I’m not really sure what to do now, what to do next. The prospects of rejection or of rejecting seem ever weightier.
III: DREAMS
I’ve been dreaming often of late, fitfully, several times a night. I awake from my dreams disoriented, often sad. My dreams of late have preyed on my insecurities.
- My father fell down dead in a shower.
- I was delayed for days in an airport after a terrorist tried to hijack a plane on an adjacent liftoff strip.
- My father accidentally killed a man and asked me to cover for him.
- Unable to actually ask her out, I started charming a girl via text messages though she sat beside me.
IV: FIRST GRADE
For the past two and a half weeks, the first grade teacher has been sick, and the principal inserted her wards into my class. The school subjects my students to enough chaos as is, but with the semi-permanent arrival of a very young first grade class, I witnessed the quick disintegration of my students’ spirits. Discipline only works so well amid chaos, and no educational system works well without some semblance of either personal or systemic discipline. Weekends, never arriving soon enough to begin with, couldn’t last long enough. These past two and a half weeks may rank among the most emotionally trying weeks of my recent life for reasons I won’t even begin to describe on a public space.
I won’t write anymore, but I wanted to commit this thought to paper anyway.
VI: APPLES TO APPLES AND SO ON…
Mel, Jonah, and I hosted a successful party this past weekend. Mel and Jonah brainstormed a games night theme centering on Beer Pong and Apples to Apples, and the event coalesced. Various people from various social circles arrived, and we all surprised each other. More surprising to me was the game of Apples to Apples itself. I designed the custom set that we used that night (and many in the past), and, despite my ingenuity, other games have fallen flat. This one didn’t. It rocked, and I felt good. Sometimes, I guess that’s all that matters?
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| Check the next post for my annual Christmas survey.
Remember that all posts are mirrored at snowshoes1818.blogspot.com.
I: CHRISTMAS PLANS
In college, I only once looked forward to my return to Buffalo. Away for the first time, Buffalo embodied the misery of years past. As time passed and those memories faded, I regarded my hometown as a place to coalesce, an infinitely comfortable but infinitely routine place. In Buffalo, stress abates. Pressures diminish. Life, for better on worse, goes on hold.
I left New York City on the morning of the twenty third of December and arrived at home just in time for dinner. I wasn’t enthusiastic about my stay per se, but I felt ready to take a break. It was time to see my parents and my sister.
Since I saw him even six months ago, Michael has substantially slimmed. He looks better than I may have ever seen him, and his cares, if indeed he has any, no longer flit across his now weathered brow. Over the past few years, I’ve begun to respect him more and more, and, speaking with him this Christmas, I was awed. At 59 years old, he has entered his prime.
It’s always a pleasure to see Bitches. Leading up to my time home, she posted on my wall incessantly, and we spoke of all the things we might do, but none of that materialized. Bitches had things to do, and we were both busy. We planned to go out for a beer Sunday night, but I wouldn’t let her drink and drive, and neither of us cares for the local dives. Instead, we visited Wegmans, purchased a six-pack of Hoegaarden White Ale, and played Scrabble on the floor of her bedroom. Try as I might, I can’t imagine a better way to have spent that evening.
On Christmas, the four of us piddled around until 2.00 in the afternoon. At that time, the Celtics played the Magic, and I wanted to watch. Michael and I huddled around the television, and, deciding that the network analysts weren’t doing well enough, I supplied supplementary commentary. Michael did not appreciate it, but he did enjoy it. On the conclusion of the game, the four of us together headed to the AMC to take in “Sherlock Holmes.” Michael, Bitches, and I enjoyed it immensely, but Lorraine couldn’t fathom the speed of the movie. She said that everything happened to fast for her to understand the relationships between the characters; pointing out that she had missed the point entirely didn’t help.
As a child, I was disappointed to receive even one article of clothing. This year, I asked for one thing: socks. My parents didn’t disappoint either. I now possess a few fantastically warm pairs.
II: RABBIT IS DONE…
On my train ride down to Buffalo last week, I finished “Rabbit At Rest,” the last of John Updike’s Rabbit quartet. This series isn’t a “trophy piece.” Nothing blew me away. But everything resonated.
III: BREWER AND BUFFALO
The first book, “Rabbit, Run,” satirizes domestic life in the late 1950’s.
The second book, “Rabbit, Redux,” toys with race relations, drugs, and the anti-war movement of the late 1960’s.
The third book, “Rabbit Is Rich,” begins a theme of urban decay but focuses more on the shallowness of social relationships and the little disappointments that haunt memories. (Circa 1980)
The fourth book, “Rabbit At Rest,” puts an exclamation point on everything that happened in book three. (Circa 1990)
The first book established the town of Mt. Judge and its larger neighbor, Brewer, as small but bustling cities in central Pennsylvania. Trolleys ran up and down streets. Brewer’s main street featured a lively pedestrian mall, and a lone department store monopolized luxury commodities. Fast forward twenty years to the third book, and Rabbit won’t visit central Brewer because of the crime there. The department store shut down shortly after the trolleys. The local corner stores he used to visit all collapsed with the arrival of superstores.
If I started writing a narrative about a decaying urban center today, I could do it easily, maybe without any research. I spent all my childhood in Buffalo, and memories of Kaufmans, Hills, and so on still float up every so often. More recently, I lived in a down bereft of its youths, dwelling across the street from a dilapidated hospital. The prefectural capital started building a twin span bridge connecting its downtown with an outlying area, but they ran out of money to build the second bridge. Thinking cynically, I’ve spent my whole life a witness to spent glory. Experiencing that decay is altogether different. Starting “Rabbit, Run,” I accepted a certain status quo. The changes to Brewer seemed to blindside me as much as Rabbit or Updike himself.
On the car ride to the train station, I asked my father, “Why did you come back to Buffalo?” He said that he wouldn’t have come had he not received a job offer too good to pass up. I wrote earlier that my father has entered his prime, and he seems more at peace than any time I’ve ever known him, but I can’t help wondering what skeletons he sees as he drives up and down streets – or if he even sees him. Then again, maybe I’m not giving him enough credit. This is a man who starts the bulk of his sentences with “Let me tell you” or “You’ll never guess what…” Maybe he sees growth where others see decay.
IV: RABBIT & ME
I disagree with the editors of Wikipedia. Rabbit isn’t an everyman, but he could be any man. Rabbit fears society’s shackles. He seeks gratification instantly. He does not compromise. He lacks confidence in himself, and he hides that under a veneer of arrogance. Rabbit makes poor decisions but instead of atoning for them runs away from them. Despite this, Rabbit is not bad. He is not an evil man. He does not try his best, and he does not even attempt to treasure those around him. Rabbit wants to live, but he does not live well. In other words, he does all the time what we all do sometimes, and we the readers love him because he is and is not just like us. More than any other single adjective, I would describe Rabbit as scared.
I would like to illustrate my understanding of Rabbit with an example. In the third book, he meets a woman who may be his daughter. He spends not inconsiderable time tracking her down. He drives down to her mother’s farm during a lunch break, parks his car by the highway, and – in a good summer suit – creeps through bushes to sneak a peek at her. Before his maybe-daughter lifts herself out of her car, a small dog emerges from the farmhouse, and, catching his scent on the wind, sprints up toward him. How does Rabbit respond? He runs for dear life back to his car. As I read the passage, I thought to myself, “What is he afraid of except the phantom of shame?”
A few nights ago, I was playing the “Let’s Name Our Faults!” game with a friend over gchat, and I said that I sometimes carry things to extremes. On these occasions, I do so out of a fear of non-inclusion less than a fear of exclusion. I don’t mind being marginalized so long as I am not forgotten. I might do well to label future episodes “Rabbit moments.” I dread many of the same nameless specters that Rabbit does, and, even at 23, I run away with my tail between my legs far too often. Running is, after all, easier than apologizing or atoning.
V: THE PRESENT TENSE
Updike wrote all four books in the present tense. When I started reading, I immediately detected a subtle difference, but I could not place it. Only after four or five pages did I fully comprehend what I was reading, and only after four books have I arrived at an opinion.
Reading a conventional narrative, the distant past blends with the near past in a he said/she said format, but placing immediate actions in the present tense accords events of the distant past far more effect. When Rabbit runs, he runs, but when he thinks about the way Brewer WAS or the way he WAS, the reader absorbs the full affect of that WAS. Once I internalized the present tense, I found it comfortable, and I presently wish that more authors used it.
VI: THE QUEUE
I have purchased, borrowed, or otherwise obtained the following books. All but two (in the mail from Amazon as we speak) sit on my bookshelf waiting in turn.
“Battles of the Bible.” – Chaim Herzog
“The Windup Girl.” – Paolo Bacigalupi
“Farewell to Arms” – Hemingway
“Rant” – Chuck Pahlaniuk
“Brave Story” – Miyuki Miyabe
“Othello” – Shakespeare
“Her Fearful Symmetry” - Audrey Niffenegger
“White Noise” – Dom Delillo (Huge!)
“The Minotaur Takes a Cigarette Break” – Steven Sherrill
“Amusing Ourselves to Death” – Neil Postman
I know that this queue is rather ridiculous, but it’s not “my fault.” “White Noise” is a leftover from Japan. “The Windup Girl,” “Brave Story,” and “Her Fearful Symmetry” were all purchased from Amazon.com with gift certificates. I received “Othello” from a giveaway at school and “Farewell to Arms” from my sister. Ahh!
VII: BETTER LATE THAN NEVER
For many Americans, Buffalo is synonymous with snow. The kindergarten teacher at my school laughed heartily when I told her that I chose “snowshoes” as my internet handle. I remember heaps of snow when I was growing up. I remember listening to AM radio at 5.00 in the morning hoping to hear that the Board of Education had closed schools for the day. Lately, not much snow seems to have fallen though. Call it bad luck if you want. Call it a fluke. Hell, call it global warming. Green Christmases were the norm until last year in Japan (where they don’t celebrate Christmas well).
This year, I left Brooklyn, which had snow, for Buffalo, where none had yet fallen. Christmas was green, and I contained my normal disappointment. On Monday, I headed to Best Fitness for a workout, and when I exited, I could not see the end of the gym. A blustering blizzard cut visibility to ten yards. A seven-minute return trip cost me nearly half an hour. I checked my speedometer while passing another car. It read 15 miles per hour.
Wow. That night, my family hibernated.
VIII: RETURN
My coalescence at Buffalo lasted four and a half days. I scheduled my return to Buffalo for the Tuesday after Christmas, hopefully leaving myself enough time to adequately plan for New Year’s Eve. Michael drove me to the train station, and there, the stationmaster informed us that the train to New York City was hopelessly delayed thanks to the chance blizzard I wrote about earlier. To compensate, the station had chartered an Albany-bound bus. I boarded it warily.
I chatted intermittently with the girl seated beside me. She was a graduate student of international education at NYU and a bit too serious for her piercings. I tried to read “Battles of the Bible,” but the rhythm of the bus lulled me into sleep. I “conked out.”
The bus arrived at Albany on schedule, and we arrived to discover that a special train had been chartered for us and for passengers of similar circumstances from Rochester and Syracuse. While we waited for the Syracuse bus, a pencil thin blonde of indeterminate age asked me if I would watch her bags while she took a few drags on her cigarette. She returned and thanked me, saying, “Thanks. Can’t trust anybody in this world.” I replied smartly, “But you just did!”
IX: ON THE HIERARCHY OF HOLIDAYS
I firmly believe in a hierarchy of holidays. The hierarchy is as follows:
Tier 1: Christmas + Halloween
Tier 2: St. Patrick’s Day + Salmon Day (Japan) + 4th of July + April Fool’s Day + Valentine’s Day
Tier 3: New Year’s + Thanksgiving
Tier 4: Fathers Day + Mothers Day
Tier 5: Memorial Day + Labor Day + Martin Luther King, Jr. Day + Columbus Day + Presidents Day + Veterans Day
Tier 6: Easter
Although the celebratory styles of Christmas and Halloween are very different and although few (if any) people ever receive the day off in celebration of Halloween, I have placed those two in tier 1 because they are the only holidays that feature substantial lore and ample pre-holiday celebration. In preparation for these holidays, some decorate their homes weeks in advance. Television stations air holiday specials a month early.
Some might call the second tier of holidays negligible, but people on these holidays recognize the need to do something different. Who doesn’t wear green on St. Patrick’s Day? Who doesn't barbecue on the 4th? Who doesn’t eat salmon on Salmon Day? Who doesn’t screw around on April 1? Who doesn’t feel sick to their stomach on February 14? Really? At the very least, people look fondly on these holidays, and they change their normal habits.
The third tier of holidays includes two great “family” holidays, but I have placed them in the third tier because other holidays have greatly overshadowed them. To many, Thanksgiving is a stopover between Halloween and Christmas. Similarly, New Year’s is a superfluous coda to Christmas.
I have likened Fathers Day and Mothers Day to Carvel cakes: overly sweet, insubstantial, and unappetizing. Verily Hallmark creations, few enjoy celebrating these holidays, but many feel the burden to.
The fifth tier of holidays contains government holidays. Government employees and schoolchildren receive the day off, but the rest of the country largely fails to notice – unless there’s a sale with 0% APR until the following year!
I feel sad for Easter. As a kid, I remember hunting for eggs fondly, but over the last decade and a half, I have witnessed Easter diminish into nothing. No longer “Easter Break” even at Catholic schools, the midterm break at schools has turned into “Spring Break” or “Spring Recess.” In popular culture, rabbits and eggs have fallen to the wayside, displaced by televised clips of Jerry Springer-emceed hedonism.
Thoughts? Please post your own!
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| I forgot to do this last year, but my insomnia provided the perfect opportunity to fill one out for 2009. Enjoy! Real blog post later today! =)
1. What did you do in 2009 that you'd never done before?
Visited Harlem. Taught a class by myself. Ate sea urchin and squid ink. Thrown up from drinking too much.
2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I did not make any last year. I will not make any this year.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
No.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
No.
5. What countries did you visit?
Japan!
6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009?
A sense of direction.
7. What date from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
Assuming that I have to remember the EXACT date...
January 1, 2009 - New Year's with Konno-sensei
Loads of other good memories.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Finding a job in New York City.
9. What was your biggest failure?
I don't know that one failure stands out. I've given up a few too many times.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
I've been sick a few times since I started teaching in Harlem. I caught the flu in Japan. Recently, I stubbed my toe horribly.
11. What was the best thing you paid for?
Kanji jisho? Broker's fee for 86 Jewel Street? I'm sure that I've made a few fantastic purchases this calendar year, but I can't think of them for the life of me.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Namekata-sensei, Yamaoka-sensei, Okuchuu's two principals, and Keita.
Mel, Dan, Linda, Ana, Kyle, and so on here...
Bitches. Michael. Lorraine.
And Max! He's calmed down!
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
The American public in general and New York's mobs in particular.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Food. Movies. Gym. Clothes.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Japan. Education. Karaoke!
16. What song will always remind you of 2009?
「想い出がいっぱい」- H2O、「君のすべてに」- Spontania feat. Juju、「夏祭り」- Whiteberry、「キセキ」- Greeeen、「やった」ー葉っぱ隊、「甘い香り」-Cocco、「雨音子」- RADWIMPS
"Sea of Stars" - aozorafantasii, "Run This Town" - Jay Z. feat. Kanye and Rihanna, "Disturbia" - Rihanna, "When the Music Stops" - Eminem, "Daylight" - Matt and Kim, "Patient Ferris Wheel" - Gaslight Anthem, "The Telescope (Of Course)" - Her Space Holiday, "Use Somebody" - Kaiser Chiefs,
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder?
My New Year's Eve last year was far better, so... sadder.
ii. thinner or fatter?
Thinner.
iii. richer or poorer?
Poorer actually. Untaxed income is awesome.
18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Karaoke. Speaking Japanese. Getting to know my coworkers in Japan.
19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
World of Warcraft.
20. How will you be spending Christmas?
Already spent it in Buffalo. Saw "Sherlock Holmes."
21. What was the most embarrassing thing that happened to you in 2007?
Threw up all over myself.
22. Did you fall in love in 2009?
Nae.
23. How many one-night stands?
Zilch.
24. What was your favorite TV program?
Ally McBeal maybe. Or South Park, Family Guy, or SportsCenter.
25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Nope.
26. What was the best book you read?
I HAVE READ TOO MANY BOOKS.
Either... Updike's rabbit quartet, Polio: An American Story, Dune, The Road, A Confederacy of Dunces, The Magus... I dunno! I could go on for a while!
27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
RADWIMPS? H2O? Gaslight Anthem? aozorafantasii? Too hard.
28. What did you want and get?
An excellent experience in Japan. An excellent apartment in Brooklyn. Excellent friends around me here. Excellent mentors over there.
29. What did you want and not get?
A sense of direction.
30. What was your favorite film of this year?
"Armageddon." Watching it with Will revitalized my love for it.
31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I turned 23. I went to karaoke and got plastered.
32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
A different job here in NYC.
33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007?
Conservative.
34. What kept you sane?
Gym.
35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Lebron James. Will he leave Cleveland?! Ahhhhh!
36. What political issue stirred you the most?
Healthcare reform. After living in Japan... yeah.
37. Who did you miss?
U.S. people (while in Japan). Japan people (while living in the U.S.).
38. Who was the best new person you met?
Yamaoka-sensei? Konno-sensei? Keita?
39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009:
Being myself is enough.
40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
"I've seen all of your lives, and I've heard all of your conversations. And I am hungry." - from "The Telescope (Of Course)" by Her Space Holiday. | | |
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