June 22nd through July 7th Who Knows Where the Time Goes in 2016

I have no recollection of the events of June 22nd after my entry. However, upon reflection, I got a message on Line that night and needed to make up a costume, put it on, and show pictures to my voice teacher. Well, she said I needed a costume, I was already stressed and not sleeping well (I actually think I would have slept that night but for the message), but one I’d gotten it . . . there was no going back. So, I made up a costume, sent pictures, she loved them, and I couldn’t get back to bed. Dammit. I have no recollections of the 23rd either. At least, at Miyachu. I had Ebihara, and, by extension, I probably had no classes, or, no classes worth discussing
The night of Thursday the 23rd was a bit nuts. I had to go home, cram some more music practice (as I’d been cramming for days), and then haul myself to a party to greet the incoming singers. I seem to remember that there was something else that kept me, because I was scrambling to get there, but, I don’t remember what it was, to be honest. I’d selected two songs to do (Starry Night and Country Roads) and I had two memorized ones as filler (Mad World and Closing Time). However, on a whim, I brought the uke too. Just in case.
The party was held at a “grand golf” course. I’m not entirely sure what that is. It looked like golf? It’s a testament to when Miyanojo mattered. The course is beautiful, but the lobby was depressingly empty. I wonder how much of the town’s budget is spent keeping that place in its current state of genteel poverty. Well, I got there a bit late, rushed in, guitar in hand, and then saw the program: I was scheduled to play ukulele. . . . whoops. So, having already sat down (next to Higashi Sensei), I found an excuse and ran out to the car for the ukulele. Then I sat back down. In the meantime, they were presenting, to the group, a video all about the various things that make Satsuma great including a Children’s Library (never knew we had that), a cafe (which I’ve never found), and an old folks settlement (which makes perfect sense, frankly).
The gathering was much bigger than I’d expected, though, that was my fault for having expected to know what to expect. The singers from the US came, but also a whole singing group from Nagoya. The event had all of the swells of Satsuma, and (as a gaijin/English speaker) I ended up sitting way farther up in the rankings than I probably should have. Hooray. Anyway, the dinner was full of performances and delicious food. I did some translating. The two ladies were wonderful (of the gaijin) but the dude was a bit . . . don’t know how to put it. Seemed like he felt like he was a Japan pro and didn’t want me around. I get that, but I asked him if I was stepping on his toes and he said no. So, I just talked to the ladies and the swells. Can’t really complain.
Of course I had to perform.
The problem was twofold. Firstly, I hadn’t been doing much ukulele stuff lately, thinking I’d do guitar, and was more than slightly rusty. Adding to this, I went after the gospel singers. When you’ve got three, microphones, tight harmony gospel singers followed by one worn out guy with a cheap ukulele . . . it won’t reflect well on the latter. And nobody was even drunk yet.
They got drunk, though, as is the custom. They’d chartered a bus for everybody. That’s what it was! There we go! I left work early after my last class, showered, then left but things had already started. Stupid . . . job. Anyway, went home again and crashed. I think that I was having terrible sleep troubles at this time. Migraines also ensued, but I think that may have been the next week? Don’t really remember.
Friday the 24th I had Riusui. I love it these and I love those kids. They’re just so unbearably cute! I had a super fun time. I found out that one of the 3rd/4th graders is half Chinese (but she doesn’t speak any). It’s pretty common here for the farmers to have foreign wives. But I fell in love with a little 2nd grader, and I ended up eating lunch with the 1st/2nd grade class. She was so cute and she made it a point of speaking English (just individual words) with me at lunch. Mostly yes, no, and what. So, because she was working to actually use her English, she ended up getting my American flag fan for the month.
She kept coming up to me for the next two hours, confirming that it was really hers.
Man I want kids sometimes.
Anyway, as soon as recess was finished, I drove home as quickly as possible, showered, and dashed to Kagoshima city for the concert.
I got to the place a bit before the others. At least, I think that I did. There was already a brass band there. The concert hall was also pretty darned big. I had a great time with everybody, and we sang up there and didn’t do a bad job. The trouble is, everybody else was GREAT. Well, the band sounded kind of terrible, but we were also backstage behind a partition. So, I had no idea if they were actually any good or not.
After intermission, were were allowed to watch. There were amazing opera soloists. The dude was . . . so so. The girls were amazing. Of course I cried during Un Bel Di. I think that Hashiguchi was embarrassed for/at/because of me. Anyway, it was all lovely. The gospel singers were amazing. The whole event was nice. As soon as it was over, I drove back to Satsuma.
As I think on it, I’m pretty sure that I was suffering from severe insomnia at this time. It seems only reasonable.
Anyway, I got up early on the morning of Saturday the 25th and read a book to the kids in Tsuruda library. The girl with the fan showed up. She was adorable. I want to adopt her. She’s just . . . the best. Seriously, I love that kid.
Anyway, then I rushed over to the Miyanojo Cultural Center and performed with Harmony Satsuma. The group of performers was WAY bigger. I felt super guilty at ducking out at intermission, but I had to get to Kagoshima for opera. Also, sitting in the back, waiting for an entrance, you don’t get to see much. We were the last act before intermission.
On our Friday concert, the hall was about half full, maybe a third (I’m bad at this). However, in Satsuma . . . we packed the house. People standing in the aisles and everything. That was good. However, we blew our first entrance. And we didn’t do nearly as well singing, but, since the audience was all Japanese anyway, it’s hard to tell if they were being polite to us for trying, being nice because we’re hometown heroes, or just didn’t notice our mistake.
The drive to Kagoshima was nuts, then I went to the wrong building (I had two addresses in my Line conversation and I went to the wrong one), then I couldn’t find the actual building once I got to it. I don’t know if Google Maps sucks in every city, but it sure sucks in Kagoshima. I’ve not done a lot of city driving with it before, though. Anyway, Hashiguchi was there to save me! Somehow! I love that man. I rushed in and got to run through my entrance . . . three or four times. That was it. Then I pigged out on McDonald’s and went home. Because fuck life.
On Sunday, I got up early and drove to Kagoshima. Then I did the opera whereas I met a guy who maybe wants to do TV stuff with me. That’d be amazing. I did pretty well in the opera, and my costume was a hit. Furry pants, yukata with the sleeves pulled inside out to make a robe. Sash style obi as a sash, then a handkerchief plus another sash obi to make a kind of central Asian hat (it was Turandot, after all). I also did makeup and looked cool. I really enjoyed it. Hashiguchi also met me there, but he couldn’t stay. I love that guy. Also, my voice teacher is just . . . unreasonably attractive. And at least a decade older than I am. I’m baffled.
After that, I presumably ate myself silly (I couldn’t go to the after party, though, as I had to drive back home alone) and then I probably went to bed and slept or didn’t sleep.
Monday the 27th I was t Miyachu. I have no memory of it. I got home and presumably crashed. To be honest, Monday the 27th through Friday the 1st were all dull and all at Miyachu. I don’t remember anything of interesting during this time period. I believe that I skipped tea ceremony from exhaustion. I know that I skipped ballroom dance, but I may have skipped Wednesday night Eikaiwa as well. The week also had so much rain that the river rose probably around thirty feet. It was insane. Everything is/was soaking wet. I had horrible migraines and I could barely sleep. It was just not a good time to be me.
One of the troubles with my migraines is that they’re not the commonly imagined pounding headaches of TV. Sure, that happens sometimes, but generally I just get dizzy, disoriented, and can’t see straight. Add to that nausea and other things that are hard to watch and it creates an issue where I look fine (as long as I’m not walking anywhere), but I feel awful. Can’t even clutch my head. I think one reason I tend to be so dramatic about injuries is that it took a lot to convince mum that I was sick at all.
Anyway, Saturday morning was nice, at least. I had a decent run on Pathfinder. Then guitar. But where it really got to be fun was on the night of Saturday the 30th.
So, after guitar, I went to Kagoshima city. I’d rented a hotel (strongly recommend The Richmond, btw), and found it after nearly half an hour of looking for a parking spot. Seriously. Half an hour. Possibly more. I hate Google forever now. Well, I got in, I got showered, and then I got walking. Somehow or other it transpired that we had amazing weather. How . . . I really don’t know. But we did after ages of rain. Hooray!
I ate dinner at some Mexican place, and, while there, I met two cool dudes whose names escape me. One is in the army (I think) and he is about to do 3 months in Washington state. The other seemed to be suggesting that he talk to gaijin. Other guy talked to me. I spoke in Japanese. It was a beautiful moment for everybody.
We then went to a Karaoke place and sang and played darts (I somehow won). Turns out that other dude is in a band, which was awesome. Then we went to some other bar that had a guitar, and he and I passed it around back and forth and had fun. There was some old gaijin talking to a young lady gaijin. She looked like Jenna Pittman must have looked twenty years ago. Anyway, guy number 2 had an army buddy coming, and he came, and we talked a bit. There was suggestion of going to a girls’ bar, but it was already after 1 and I wanted to be asleep by 2, so I had to decline. Part of me is curious about the experience, part of me wants to stay on a moral high horse. Not for reasons of morality, really. It’s odd how doing nominally bad things that could get worse is so oddly enjoyable.
Maybe this is being a teenager.
So, I got back to the hotel and slept poorly, but it was fine because I’d had so much fun.
Chan was right about me needing to recharge my batteries.
So, on Sunday the 3rd, I went to a Rakugo workshop in Kagoshima city. I had no idea what to expect, and, again, was surprised by what I got. I woke up and wandered around town until I found this Sri Lankan place. I’d gone in there by mistake the day before looking for another place for dinner. So, I figured I may as well pay penance. The food was . . . alright.
Oh, also, I got into a cab with a yakuza driver. I asked him about his accent. He told me that he was from Kagoshima (though he sounded Kansai), then flashed his tattoos and showed off his missing pinkie tips. I tipped him for the ride and he actually accepted. It was the tipping that most surprised me, not being in a car with a gangster. This is what Japan does to you.
So, the group was large, and I met a lot of cool people. Let’s go over it a bit differently, though.
The event was really amazing. First, we had two amateur Japanese girls perform Rakugo in English. Then, the main event came on. She’s a gaijin from Liverpool. Probably in her 50’s. Evidently famous. She was amazing. She lectured about rakugo (especially rakugo in English) and then did a show and then asked for an audience volunteer to attempt it.
I got picked.
I forgive the cold and uncaring universe for everything I’ve ever not been picked for before now.
I got to “walk” and I got to “fly”. I got to eat bento and I got to be a beautiful woman. I got to pour drinks and drink them. I got to have conversations between people. I did a lot. It was amazingly fun! Fortunately/unfortunately, I did so well at it that a lot of the people thought that I was a plant and got a little bit upset. This was both good and bad news.
Then, she lectured about her life and all of her crazy adventures. Holy crap this broad is cool! Went backpacking in Japan 26 years ago. Stayed. She’s a certified tea teacher, certified kimono teacher, and certified ikebana teacher. She does balloon art AND balloon fashion (saw her balloon dresses). She’s done rakugo in (I think) 27 countries. She’s just . . . awesome. Kind of want to be her.
I got to talk to her a bit after, but she was super slammed and couldn’t really talk much. I got to go to the after party, though, too. That was kind of dull (because I didn’t eat anything on principal (I hadn’t been planned for)). I met some cool people as well, some of whom I now need to message now that I think on it. Then, I walked around trying to find food, settled on a McDonald’s, and ate way too much, though it took me ages to walk there. I hate Google when I’m in Kagoshima city.
Then, I came home and presumably went to bed.
Monday I went to Sashi. I had to get up a bit early to get there on time because I’m now teaching first hour there. There was a dead kitten just outside of the school. It was a melancholy thought to reflect that one of the kids that I would make incredibly happy may end up having a horrible day as soon as she went home.
The 1st/2nd graders are/were the cutest things in the history of the world. There was one girl with amazing English pronunciation. She was new. What that manner of thing happens, I tend to ask, “Are you English?” She said no, and when I asked if she was Canadian, she said yes. Turns out that she actually was. She (and her brother whom I’d meet later) were half-Japanese Canadians in town for . . . whatever reason. The boy didn’t seem to know his mouth from his ass (and kept shitting out of it, by extension).
In the 3rd grade, Kokomi ended up getting in trouble, and had to stand outside and watch for half of the class. I think it’d because she got in a fight of sorts with the girl with the strange eye and a crush on me. Is-Actually-a-Girl was there, and it’s always nice to see her. Rounding out the crew, one girl decided that she was a cat. However, she was a cat who liked English, and I was in no hurry to interrupt the cuteness.
The 4th grade was noteworthy for the Canadian kid. He had that, “I’m a douchebag in training,” look that I usually associate with Daniel across the street in America and other kids who end up going to Cranbrook. He kept correcting the teacher and disrupting class. He wasn’t doing it to be bad, he just wanted to show off. This was his day in the limelight. I felt a bit bad shutting him down a bit, because as much as I hate kids like that, I remember their feels, however, I had a room full of kids to teach. And he was causing a problem, however innocently. It went well, though. In the end.
I have no especial memories or recollections of the 5th or 6th graders, which is par for the course. They’re not as fun. Recess was good, but not as good as usual. One of the 6th grade girls kept climbing me, which was weird, because usually it’s the kids under 4th grade. Everybody wants to play with me at recess, and it’s a problem because there’s only so much Oz to go around. So, I end up just playing with whomever kidnaps me. That’s my policy. It tends to piss some kids off, but, there’s really no effective solution. I didn’t see Is-Actually-a-Girl there at recess. Well, I did, but not much. She was mostly on the monkey bars instead of kicking everybody’s asses. We played a lot around the sumo area (there’s an actual sumo area there) but it had a bit of a lake inside of it. Nothing to be done, I suppose.
After the last class, I rushed to Eikaiwa, and, there, basically didn’t do much as I needed to work with Kazumi to get stuff taken care of for the license. That was a stressful and convoluted nightmare. Afterwards, I dropped by and gave her a six pack of beer and the money Sam and I owed her.
Tuesday the 5th was Miyachu. Nothing of interest transpired. I couldn’t even walk around during my breaks because my legs were so chafed from sweating. I’d completely soaked all of my clothing by the end of 2nd period on Monday. My legs . . . the agony. Anyway, I just read a lot and only had a few classes with Tateishi. Two I think.
Tuesday night was Tea Ceremony, but I was so wiped out from the heat and exhaustion of just living in this heat that I just couldn’t really function. After helping with setup and watching Misato-Sensei . . . I excused myself. I just couldn’t do anything. So, I went home. I then dicked around a bit on the internet and went to bed.
It was Monday or Tuesday that my tablet’s power chord finally gave up its last derp. This made existence at work remarkably dull. So, on Wednesday the 6th, I brought my laptop to Miyachu. I was still chafed from Monday, and hesitant to walk (wore my running skivies to keep everything there quite separate) so I just . . . talked online. Mostly to Courtney. It was one of the best conversations we’ve had in ages. Partly because she’s been busy and partly because you can’t always have amazing conversations that eventually turn into, “What are some of the strongest memories you’ve still got from the old days?” It turned into a conversation about our memories, about memory in general, about significance. I learned things that changed old memories (like her brother spying on us when she and I were kids in California). We talked about personalities and relationships and priorities and women (always women) and why it is that Russian girls who look like everybody we think is cool have to be married with a kid. Turns out that my ASMR Waifu was somebody’s actually wife. It was just . . . the best. That started a massive nostalgia trip that kept going and going and going until I used food and silliness to not deal with things. However, something important happened.
After Eikaiwa, when I was in the car, I put on Enya. And at first, it hurt. Any time I hear the album A Day Without Rain, my mind wanders back to a very specific night:
I was probably about sixteen. My brother had a steady gig sleeping over at the night of two elderly ladies in case anything happened to them (they were old, a bit ill, and well off enough to afford a 20-something, but not well enough to afford a nurse). One night, Chris couldn’t do it, so I filled in. As is my custom, I brought way more entertainment stuff than I needed. But what I most remember was listening to that album and writing to Kat. I believe it was with the pen and ink that she gave me (something I still cherish as one of the great treasures of my life). I wrote her a long letter that I remember being much better than it probably actually was. I felt very hobbit-y. Something that’s very emotional for me. Somehow, it seemed like a wonderful moment, but it was also tinged a bit with artificiality (as are all of my moments). Still, it was wonderful, and it’s burned into my memory.
It was incredibly painful to be dragged back to that happy time. To reflect on it and to reflect on now and to think of the difference and the loss and the failure. I look back on what I’ve done and can see how things got to this point. Yet, if me at that age could see where I am . . . he would disapprove. Is he right, or is he a dumb kid? Am I right, or am I a sell out? What happened to Kat? What happened to the world? What happened to . . . everything? It’s a tough call. I wanted to turn off the music with almost as much speed as I shut off “Lothlorien” when it came on in Lee’s room all those years ago.
But I didn’t.
And at the end of the songs . . . it was beautiful. I was sad. Of course I was sad. I’m an obese thirty year old in a dead end job in the middle of nowhere who has accomplished nothing and has never come close to realizing the potential of that kid who, fourteen years prior, listened to that music and wrote a letter to someone he barely talks to. But . . . I was that kid. And I felt those things. And in feeling those things again, there was some connection. The connection didn’t feel like the normal process of degradation. It somehow felt like . . . a connection. I can’t think of a better word. Almost an, “Oh there you are, Peter,” moment, to steal from Courtney stealing from Hook.
So, at the next red light, in front of the police office, I sent Kat a Facebook message. Pretty sure that breaking the strict anti-cell laws in front of a police office wasn’t my best idea in life, but it was what it was, it was what it needed to be, and I could not really have done otherwise. I needed to message her.
Kat, I’m sorry for writing about you like you’re not there. I haven’t done much of that in years, and I’m sorry for a lot of when I did it in the past as well. I miss you. I miss the old times. It’s probably a sign of my own selfishness that I cannot understand how some people are so critical to me, and to who I am, and to my sense of the world can have these entirely other separate and exciting lives. Maybe things were what they were when we were who we were and maybe life’s not what it was. Maybe it never was what it was. I don’t know. But I miss you. When I’m in my silver chair, I miss you.
After that message was sent, I went to Plasse and got dinner. Then I went home, realized that I’d forgotten chicken, and got chicken from 7-11. The diet isn’t going well in that for two weeks I stressed out and couldn’t keep it, and now I’m stressed about so much more. Way to go me.
Oh, right, the rest of Wednesday before that point. Sorry, I got sidetracked.
I gave tests 1st through 3rd periods. All pronunciation tests for the students. Lowest grade was a 75%. Even if I were being strict, the lowest grade wouldn’t have been much lower. Holy crap the kids did amazingly well. I was proud and happy.
In talking to Simona, she’s super stressed at work and I worry that maybe that’s why she’s being a bit odd to me. Of course, I also worry that that’s not why she’s being odd, which would be worse.
Eikaiwa was dull, as it tends to be. Sam’s set-up girl was there. Again. I don’t think that Sam realizes that when you’ve been on a date with a single mother, she goes in for the kill. Poor buddy. He’s going to be somebody’s step-dad if he’s not careful.
My nostalgia trip with Courtney was abruptly ended when Obara Sensei came in to talk with me, but resumed when I went home and started looking at Myers Briggs personality profiles for the cast of Sailor Moon and Gundam Wing. This was interrupted by Eikaiwa. It was food (after Eikaiwa) and a phone call with Tris that got me out of it.
I answered back e-mails (not all of them) and found that I had a zillion from a lady I’d met at the Rakugo. I worry that I may have attracted a stalker. We’ll see. Maybe she’s just excited and has bad language skills. But she did hug me . . . the first time we met. Hard to say, man. I have no idea what’s going on. We’ll see.
Today (the 7th) I’ll be at Yamasaki. I’ve got the second through fifth graders, which is disappointing because the 6th graders and 1st graders are my favorite. So be it. Prices on chargers for Surfaces are kind of insane, so I’ve got my laptop here again. We’ll see how the week goes.

One reason I’m writing the way that I’m writing in all of this is because, as I talk to Courtney, I’m reminded of how many critical things I’ve forgotten. Of course, in a very real way, I did almost nothing during a lot of the time periods that I tend to idealize. I can imagine a diary entry from 2001 or 2004: “Came home, watched Toonami, played Age of Empires, talked on the internet.” Really, between getting interested in the internet in, oh, about 1999 and starting The Starlight in 2003, nothing really changed in my life. There are, however, a few adventures that I wish that I had recorded, and I wish that I had a more detailed record of the actual events that started happening in 2003. I also wish I had records of a lot of the old conversations and e-mails from the ancient days. But . . . that’s unlikely. I found a bit of an old Sailor Moon Fan Fic on a floppy last year. I wish I had it around just to see what it used to be. What I used to be. Then again, maybe I do need an age to keep golden.
The idea of writing a story around the dead kitten occurred to me. Something like the mundane events of various people who are impacted by the cat and maybe what it means to them. But, in the end, a little girl finds out and she doesn’t care. It was a random event with no meaning for the person it ought to have meant something for that impacted everybody else. This kind of idea has been occurring lately. I also saw one of the prettier students, who always has a mysterious expression, get into a car with a weird looking guy that I assume is her dad. I imagined some kind of story where she’s secretly involved in Japanese “compensated dating” and some idealist tries to get her out of it, but, in the end, she berates him. She’s not some beautiful girl that he needs to save. She’s a person who wants nice things. Of course, it’s hard to imagine a person with that much self awareness and that little meaningful self reflection. Of course, structurally, having somebody else point it out is probably misogyny. Because reasons.
The post Brexit media coverage is deeply worrying. There seems to be a rallying cry in the UK that democracy doesn’t work and that maybe the REAL democracy is having leaders tell you what to do. This horrifies me intensely. Let the whole UK break up over this, but let them stay free. I’m becoming more and more of a populist these days, and I’m horrified that the word is using as a pejorative.
Clinton not being indicted over the e-mail stuff and the Benghazi findings are tough for me to form opinions on because it’s so hard to get neutral sources. It does seem to me that she lied about a ton of stuff, and she is now facing no real consequences. I’d like to see an indictment just for the sake of gathering more evidence. I don’t know if she’s guilty, but I feel that an indictment would do a lot to determine what really happened. Of course, it’s highly political on both sides, so it’s hard to make a reasonable conclusion. Sometimes, there are no easy answers.
In presidential biographies, I liked Jackson a LOT more than I’d expected. A lot of his bad policies that I hated him for made a lot more sense in the context of the times. A context that I was never given when encouraged to condemn him.
Van Buren is another figure who I feel I didn’t get a fair education on. Of course, he was a pretty insignificant president, but, he was an interesting politician. He invented modern politics, then lost when people figured out his game. The Napoleon of Capital Hill.
I was shocked by just how much I enjoy William Henry Harrison. The man is just . . . I want to give him a hug. For one thing, his whole life he had this expensive addiction. To Washington it was finery, to Jefferson it was . . . everything, to Monroe it was to building. To Harrison? He was addicted to orphans. He’d just take care of war orphans and try to support the families of soldiers. Yeah, he had a giant house, but it was also full. Of orphans. Just . . . the best guy. Sure, he did bad stuff. Who didn’t? But I feel that he did his best in very different times. The bad that he did was good when it was done. The good that he did is a universal good. Surely that’s got to count for something.
The biography of John Tyler has been surprising as well. The biographer essentially points out that Tyler wasn’t a good man or a good president. However, he was influential in both of those regards. I also was surprised that Tyler died a citizen of the Confederacy, something that, had I learned, I presume that I would have remembered. Weird, right? And people hate Nixon.
Diet isn’t going well. Stressed about my license and my trip to America and money. I miss being in China when, if I needed more money, I had ways to supplement my income. However, I cannot say that I actually miss being in China. I need/want to socialize more. I think that’ll help to give me energy. Of course, this weather is not helping. I’ve got to find a way to stand up to nature herself.
Screw you, nature.
Courtney suggested that maybe I’d do well writing horror or other such strange stories. I seem to remember that I maybe pitched an idea to her, or that I had one, or . . . something? Well, I downloaded some Ambrose Bierce and I’ll read him a bit more. I love his comedy, but I haven’t read his horror in a while. We’ll see what happens. I freaking love him and his style and everything around that.
Well, 5.6K words is probably enough to describe three weeks or so.
Goodnight everybody.
Happy Tanabata!