Seriously, you guys, this is awesome advice if you don't know how to talk to peoplpe at parties, and so far one of the only really interesting things I've pulled off of reading Japanese "marriage hunting" advice fora on Mixi.jp (Japan's answer to MySpace, basically). So, should you be unfortunate to find yourself at a speed dating kind of party (which are quite popular in Japan, though they don't call them that), here's what to do:

First of all, as for parties that are nothing but time to talk freely, I'm sure everyone's continually dissatisfied. It's because, men and women alike, there will definitely be people there who won't talk to anyone. I think it's really THAT that makes everyone just want their fucking money back.

So, if you have approximately three minutes each, you can talk to everyone. Three minutes though, if it's someone you click with, isn't enough. But, if you don't get on, it's agonizing, and if you had ten minutes, it'd be torture! So if you have three minutes, you can get through it by relying on appropriate politeness.

If there's someone who makes you think, "Ah, three minutes just isn't enough!" it's OK to talk to them again during the free conversation time. But, everyone's aiming for that kind of conversation partner.

Here's where the battle begins. The first point of successful strategy is to keep a position facing her or at her side. You've got to dive into talk with her so that other bastards can't break into your conversation.

In order to do that, first you look at her profile card, and briefly talk about a topic appropriate to your partner. If you don't get that conversational hook ready in advance, there's no point.

Also, you absolutely must go for a partner who has topics in common with you. And, ask yourself how your partner is reacting. If you determine that you wouldn't get her vote, look for your next target. Since she's probably talking to someone else, breaking in will require some chutzpah.

( Original Japanese text behind the cut, for those of you who want to have at either it or my translation choices )

So there you go kids. If you ever get stuck at any kind of singles event and find yourself conversationally impaired, do this (I suppose if it's not a formally organized thing where you might have someone's profile, ask a friend about your target). It's some reasonably good microsociology, and the genders in the original aside, I'm sure this would work for women too.

(P.S. This was posted in a public forum, hence I get to share it with you all.)

I realized the other day, for those of you who've watched Dollhouse: wouldn't this be the perfect theme song for it?

It's creepy in its perfectness.

Also, while I'm on the subject of media, my present TV addiction is How I Met Your Mother. I think, first of all, that it's the most Goffmanian TV show I've ever seen, and also that it's sort of like an unironic televised version of "Stuff White People Like." Also it has Neil Patrick Harris, and I too am a overeducated bourgeois white person who likes all that stuff.

I am a ridiculous stereotype out of classical Japanese literature: a lady lounging about her sparsely furnished tatami apartment, wearing only the thinnest and sheerest of single-layer kimono, trying to survive the heat of summer in the capital with pen to paper (OK, with blank text documents open), thinking of something smart to write about the circumstances of men and women and love.

Of course what I am writing is not poems or my diary, it's my IRB application. The kimono is a practical convenience: It cost me $5 so it's not particularly dear to me, I have to be wearing SOMETHING if I'm to keep the window open so's to not die, and as Asian people in hot climates have long known, sheer thin silk is about the most comfortable you can wear in the heat. (One day I will post my rant about why cotton is NOT the fabric of our lives to LJ... but that's for another day.)

Now, if only I had a mysterious suitor to send me poetry, I'd be all set.

...filled with the kind of random bureaucratic stupidity that often hammers you over the head without warning in Japan. (To wit, should you be interested in the details, the lease on my apartment has to be reissued, because the consortium acting as my guarantor decided that the leases were incorrectly filled out because they contained TOO MUCH INFORMATION. I 100% fail to understand this. Fortunately everyone at the realty office and the Kyoto University International Service office seems to be sympathetically annoyed and confused yet helpful on my behalf. This seems about as good a response as one could hope for.)

At any rate, I noticed some vegetable sellers across the street across from the realty office, so I bopped over to look at the onions and carrots. (Everyone needs root vegetables! Especially me!) I chatted a bit with the guy, got the standard, "wow your Japanese is really good!" line (expected) and also the requisite old man flirtation ("I like American girls. Introduce me to your friends!"), and I suppose this might also have been annoying if (a) it wasn't kindly meant, as I think it is most times and (b) I hadn't become so accustomed to being patronized and gently sexually harrassed on a routine basis. As it was though, I wasn't annoyed, and grabbed two onions, and the guy was like, "only two?" "I live alone," I said, and then he gave them to me for free and tossed a third in my bag.

Free onions! Hurray!

Now to:
- put food in stomach (in progress)
- do some more unpacking
- send out friendly emails noting my arrival in Kyoto to friends who are as yet not notified.
- call electric and water companies (these work without having to notify the company you're using their utilities, but I still need to notify them).

I think there will be an entry soon about the neighbours, since it seems that everyone who lives in this little corner of Shôgoin is Fucking. Insane.

a miniskirt dress from H&M (purchased in SF over new year's), black, covered in this awesome grey 60s retro print, and black ankle boots, with bare legs. (Because it's hot, but my ankle would like support).

I realized, I totally feel like a walking Star Trek (the original original) extra today, in this outfit. Oops.

My ankle is really pissed off at me today. I gave it a nice long hot soak in the bath, but I think there are two forces at work combining to bring me pain:

(1) It's very nearly summer proper now. No more boots with nice ankle support.
(2) I think my Danskos, which I was wearing today, are not very compatible with ankle v. 2.0. I've done as much walking today, easily, without my ankle getting THIS pissed at me. But I seem to recall it getting angry on other days I've whipped out those shoes too.

This is quite upsetting, because most days I can just, have a day and it doesn't hurt. I'm backsliding. It sucks. Also those are really cute shoes and I think I'm going to have to get rid of them.

Also, clunis sent me this really unfortunate bit of WTF?!, and it's reminding me just a little too much of shocking events in the not too distant past that, nonetheless, I really haven't thought of at all in rather awhile.

That hurts too, but it hurts like the memory of a wound or the itch of a phantom limb.

There's not a lot of substantive news. My Japanese program is almost over. I'm killing time until I move and wading through a couple different bureaucratic swamps, which ALWAYS makes me twitchy. (So twitchy today's retail therapy bill came to a shocking ¥20,000, which I had but still shouldn't have spent. The only justification I have is that I cleaned all the winter clothes out of my closet and noticed I barely had any left; a couple summer dresses were hardly out of order under the circumstances, wouldn't you say?) But none of that is exciting.

The season where carrying around a handkerchief or several (for mopping sweat off oneself) and a fan (preferably the elegant folding sensu variety, for drying sweat) has become as necessary as carrying about one's wallet/keys/phone/train card. This also means that it is decidedly the time for me to start packing up my winter clothes, which is convenient, because I need to pack up my apartment anyway, because I move in what? Three weeks? So, delicious fluffy wool sweaters and sexy velvet skirts, into a suitcase you go. See you in October.

It is also the season when TV shows end, and apparently all my favorite shows have decided to really fucking fuck with me. If any of you, like me, are still big enough suckers to be watching Grey's Anatomy, can we talk about this? What the fucking fuck?

I seem to be having a very serious flirtation with nail polish—a kind of makeup I don't usually bother with. As such, unlike with eye makeup, lipstick, and other things I used to wear, stopped wearing regularly, but still need to affect sometimes, I don't have any past knowledge I can use to teach me how to do it well, get even coats, pick out colours, and generally not look like a twat or a child playing with her mother's cosmetics.

adania shared with me her methods, which I will have to try, and also have to get some extra tools for. (Oh goodie! More excuses for shopping therapy at drugstores!) But if the rest of you have any tips, please share?

I have accomplished, thus far, my singular goal for the day: DO NOT VOMIT. I drink about half a bottle of red wine yesterday, and topped it with some champagne, and as drinking goes, that's not particularly severe, but red wine and I are not very good friends. Hence, hangover. I dosed myself with innumerable Japanese remedies in odd bottles and packets and seem to be doing OK, but... ugh.

So it's a good thing my Thursday plans got rescheduled, because I'm no fun for anyone today.

In other news, my next-door neighbours (Asian of some non-Japanese variety, based on snippets of them talking I might guess Korean but I'm not sure) are doing some kind of activity that looks like house-cleaning but involves the strongest garlic smell I have ever smelled. Perhaps they accidentally invited a vampire in and are working on a banishing ritual? I have nothing... except incense, which I think I need to burn a bit of right now.

(I'd shut the doors and windows, but it's just too fucking hot today. 77F and way humid. Ughhhhh. Time to lie down under a fan and not do anything all afternoon, like the woman of self-indulgent leisure that I often pretend to be.)

And still in silly costumes from the "ethnic" party

adania: This chocolate tastes like Shôwa*! Do you want the delicious taste of Shôwa?
isolt: I don't know. Do they taste like colonialism? Or a high growth economy?
*The reign of the last emperor, from the 1930s to the end of the 1980s.

And now, we are watching more Dollhouse before bed. Perfect!

Mission accomplished. I signed all the paperwork and now I am am ¥270,000 poorer (Americans: to convert, take off two decimal places and you will have a rough idea), but the apartment is perfect, perfect, perfect. For any of you who know Kyoto, it's right near Kawabata/Marutamachi. So it's very close to the Kamo River, very close to the Keihan line, and in a totally beautiful neighborhood. I wanted a tatami room really badly, so the building is kind of old (built in 1981! Same year I was born! it was fate!), but built recently enough to be adherent to current strict earthquake-withstanding standards, which makes me happy, even though Kyoto doesn't get many earthquakes. The building is 2 stories, and mine on the second floor. I have a 6 mat tatami room with a balcony, facing in whatever direction leads to having that perfect afternoon catnap light come in in the late afternoon or early evening. (I'm envisioning the catnaps already....)

And then I have a 4.5 mat kitchen (quite large by Japanese efficiency-style apartment standards), which is covered in really cute old ceramic tiling that's all brown and flowery and totally adorable. The kitchen is also, very importantly to me, a SEPARATE ROOM from the tatami room; I have big glass sliding doors that allow me to close it off. (And the kitchen is secretly big enough to stash an overnight guest in and have enough room to give them a feeling of privacy, aided by the door situation.) And then, you know, all the normal things: a closet, bathroom and shower separate (which I'm not picky about but in the end I think I'm glad to have it).

Oh yeah, and it's also about 5 minutes from adania's place, meaning I envision a lot of watching TV together. Totally totally perfect. I could not be more happy :D

I also wound up spending ¥20,000 less than I thought I was going to, and I promptly bought myself some ridiculous new lingerie with it. I call today a win!

This time, to go apartment hunting. Because I'm really truly moving here, in 3-4 weeks! Aiee!! So it's time to rent some place, and then spend the next few weeks sorting out all my crap in the Kantô area, visiting friends, saying goodbyes. *sniff*

This is good, though, because being a transnational woman of mystery urban semi-nomad thing hasn't been working out too well for me, at least just in terms of being really. physically. tired. all the time. Plus feeling uprooted, which I never do take well to. I'm not sure if I feel more at home in my place in Yokohama, or in adania's place here. (I'm all enfutoned in her kitchen right now. Which is more comfortable than it sounds.) I have a whole OTHER set of friends here, too. Who I need to be paying attention to.

Speaking of, my other plans include: hanging out with research friends, an "ethic" themed party in which my ethnicity is going to be "goth loli" (since I bought myself a miniskirt kimono, hey, I need a place to wear it!), and lingerie shopping. I need a new full slip or several, for both practical and self-indulgent reasons. (And who doesn't love lingerie shopping?) Hopefully this will not cost me too many of my pretty pennies. Or, uh, pretty yen.

(They are pretty after all. Those chrysanthemums on the ¥100 coins...)

... except for the fact that it was Day 2 of my bourbon hangover, and I felt vaguely queasy all day. This is my first-ever two-day hangover, and I think two-day hangovers are one sign that you are Officially Old. Fuck.

And then there were the hours between 4 and 6, during which I:

- went to the pharmacy to see if they had anything for my bruises, and they said they used to have really cool bruise stuff, but didn't anymore and I should stop by a doctor's office. (Japanese people go to the doctor all the time. You would too, if it only cost you $10 and didn't take very long. Nationalised health care for the win!)
- Went to the doctor upstairs in the same building, paid my ¥1000 to be seen, and was given a prescription.
- biking to the pharmacy near my house, was nearly hit by a car (3" from death people, seriously)
- and fell off my bike (actually much later, near home)
- and when I got to the pharmacy, discovered I had somehow between the office and home lost the prescription paper. And apparently in Japan you can't just call in prescriptions. Insult heaped upon injury, although I was able to buy OTC something LIKE what I had been prescribed.

Then from 6-7:30 I had a long but awkward sorting things out conversation with a friend, and it was all fine and we are relaxed cool adults who are able to talk honestly about feelings and sort out our friendship, so yay for that, but it was still awkward and taxing. Nature of the beast. Blargh.

I was in such a state what with the near death and the talking about Feelings and the stupid mortification that Ryan voluntarily surprised me with chocolates out of the blue, an act of thoughtfulness (and Erika-knowledge) that I really, really appreciated. Then I took a long lavender-scented bath, and washed my hair, and attacked any stubble with my magic hair rippy device, and slapped healing/cooling patches all over my ass and thighs, and drank some anti-nausea meds and now, several hours later, I finally feel okay again.

Still. What a day.

Right now I am covered in bruises from waist to knees, and I have (I believe, need to confirm) a date on Tuesday, so I am sort of eager to heal them quickly. (Or I could tell my date the really interesting story of how I got them, but I'm not convinced he'll be amused.)

So I am slapping on every bruise remedy known to man, and googling up new ideas, and I came across this beautiful gem of weird on Wikihow.com:

# If you have access to a holistic medicine supply store or in some communities a very well stocked oriental store you can apply a live leach. It will remove the surface blood in a bruise in a few seconds. The leach's saliva also acts as a mild pain killer so you will not feel the leach's bite. This is only reccomended if you can be sure that the leach is farm raised and free of disease. apply rubbing alcohol or petro jelly to remove the leach.

Oriental stores huh? I guess since I live in the "Orient," I should just be able to pick up some leeches at the conbini! RIGHT?!

*headdesk*

While I celebrate the arrival of my shiny new one terabyte external hard drive (they were super cheap on amazon.co.jp) by responsibly backing up my data for the first time ever, I will do another little bit of housecleaning by cleaning up my browser tabs:

- Sexual Health Alert: Apparently, 1 in 5 condoms fail in India (20%!! Much lower than the 5% failure rate one should see with condoms) because condoms made according to international standard sizes are too big for most Indian men. People! Suck it up and ask for different sizes! It's better to be embarrassed at the pharmacy (where really, I'm sure they've heard worse) than to have unsafe sex. Condom makers! Make different sizes more and plentifully available! (Me? I keep three different sizes of condoms in my sex supply stash, along with two kinds of lube. I am PREPARED.)

- Robots can think for themselves now. Fortunately, since there are pictures of me hugging robots on record, when our robot overlords take power, I hope this will serve as evidence of my kindness towards their kind.

- Also in a position to do well under the new robot overload regime are those who helped these cute little 'bots get from one place to another. Robots powered by human kindness = the kind of weird performance art/science experiment thing I can really get behind.

- Speaking of art: Stop Motion with Wolf and Pig. This is hands-down the most intriguing thing I've ever seen done with stop motion animation, and it is super cool, and you should watch it. (Visuals necessary, sound not.)

- Finally, courtesy of peculiaire, I think I have a new favorite band. Please go watch this video if you like (a) Japan or (b) speeded-up trip-hop. (That's the only way I can think of to describe the genre.)

Oh, and mind your facebook manners! (Awesome 1950s educational video style!)

and although our teachers occasionally suggest that some expressions can be used in the name of 皮肉 (hiniku, sarcasm), the general sarcasmless tendency was confirmed for me by the short essay I handed in to my grammar class earlier this week. We had been assigned to write mock letters to the editor (we've been practicing writing in various genres), and me being me, rather than write about something serious, I decided to summon up some mock outrage about an art installation celebrating the 150th anniversary of Yokohama that involved parading a giant 60 foot tall mechanical spider through the streets. (Only in Japan... or Liverpool. As it turns out.) So I wrote the following essay:

According to the Mainichi News, this past weekend, an enormous spider menaced the people of Yokohama, walking the streets freely without undergoing any attack. With a height of more than 60 feet, those who saw the spider must certainly have thought it a scene from a horror film, brought hideously to life.

Moreover, according to the article, this evil beast is still in the vicinity of Aka Renga Sôko. A government announcement proclaims that the situation is under control, but can we realistically coexist with this demon? If one considers the essential nature of spiders, one will conclude that we certainly cannot. Given that spiders are carnivorous and dislike water, it is more than clear that that they will eventually try to eat land animals. To put it simply, even though we have not yet been attacked by the spider, the danger increases with the passage of time.

Before Yokohama becomes the site of a tragedy, the Kanagawa Prefectural Police, or perhaps the National Guard, must respond to this terrible threat. Recalling the successful defeats of Godzilla, Mothra, and other beasts, let us have confidence in ourselves to proactively fight this new monster. ( 元の日本語で )

My teacher, Matsumoto-sensei, said, "Well, that was very nicely written, but you should have written it more like it was a joke."

I was like, "Huh?"

And he was like, "You should say at the end or something, that it was a joke."

And I was like, "But... isn't it obvious? If I said it was a joke, then it wouldn't be funny anymore."

And he was like, "Well, maybe it would be obvious if it were in a pamphlet advertising the festivities, next to a picture of the spider."

And a little piece of my weaned-on-GenX-comedy heart died.

Oh well. I knew this coming here.

There's a post that I WANT to write, about fieldwork and epistemology, observation and the scientific method. And it's really smart and really thoughtful. I was thinking about it while smoking a cheap and awful menthol cigarette on the way home from the train station last night, after a really great interview at a really great izakaya. Good food AND intellectual stimulation. Can't be beat.

But now my brain is broken, I slept until 3pm today, and am only just now getting started with work today at the fine hour of 6pm.

So instead I'm going to say: I'm almost done downloading the new live-action Dragonball movie, not because I actually ever liked Dragonball or anything, but because it has James Marsters in in as the bad guy, and he's fucking HOT, and you know what? He's even more fucking hot when he's a villain.

(And I've had a thing for villains since before I knew what sex was.)

Downloading a live-action movie based off a terrible anime with not-very-vague masturbatory motives is not a thing to be proud of, but when was LJ ever for telling the world about the things we are proud of?

Happy Easter to those of you that celebrate it; Happy Passover to those of you that celebrate it.

I was so busy looking at flowers (that's what hanami means, in Japanese; the traditional spring party) that I forgot, but generally, I believe quite firmly in honoring the gods of wherever you happen to be, so that's how I've been taking in the spring this year.

The sakura are just about done, but when I got back to Yokohama yesterday, I discovered it had exploded in fuschia and purple azaleas. It's almost like the city itself is trying to convince me to stay. Oh Yokohama! I am sorry. I'm leaving you. But you have me for a little while longer...

1. Apparently I accidentally committed to being in Kyoto today and then didn't know it. Major, non-language-barrier-caused communication fail. Oops. I'm rescheduled to be in Kyoto on Thursday, although since I didn't have cross-country travel plans at the start of the week, I'm kind of annoyed. (Only moderately annoyed though. Like, damn, I have to go do some research and be in my favorite place in the world in the height of cherry blossom season and hang out with adania? Oh no! HOW AWFUL!)

2. I accidentally, I think, wound up making what was basically potato kugel. In a pot. It was really delicious and garlicky though, so I'm not complaining. I just, um, wasn't intending to make potato kugel. My aim had actually been soup. Don't ask how this happened.

Are posted here with links and everything.

Just in case you were curious. I've been in sort of a nostalgic minimalist except with tons of effects pedals plinky mood lately. And it totally shows in the selections.