Good news! I got a job!! A real one! That pays on a regular basis! And is in a real building and everything!
Here's the scoop:
A couple of weeks ago I went to a Tokyo Vegan Meetup event at a macrobiotic, vegan restaurant called J's Kitchen. The food was great and the location even better - it's in the same area as my Japanese school. I met lots of great and interesting people. I happened to mention that I was looking for work, but that I'd been having a hard time finding a job that would/could accomodate my classes. One of the girls noticed that in the bathroom there was a "help wanted" sign - the only thing was that it was all in Japanese! So, first a "yay!" moment, then an "oh..." moment. I figured that at least I'd found a really easy and good place to eat near my school.
Not surprisingly, the following Wednesday found me there for lunch. I ate a hearty tempeh teriyaki sandwich and soup. When I was cashing out, I asked the woman who was helping me if she was the owner. She said yes. So, I asked her (all this in English, by the way) if she was still looking for staff. She said yes and asked me if I was interested. This time it was my turn to say yes, but I had to add the language caveat - "I'm learning Japanese, but I'm not fluent..." Her response... No problem!! Apparently at least 50% of their clientele is gaijin, so they need English-speaking staff!
I had an interview Friday, she offered me the job on the spot, and I had my first day on Monday. It's long hours (usually 9 or 10 at a stretch, this is after my morning Japanese class), but I get my transportation covered and a free meal AND I get to speak a lot of Japanese to the all-Japanese staff - so I look at it as I'm basically getting paid to improve my Japanese. So far so good! I'll let you know if anything changes - tomorrow (Friday) is my first weekend shift, so keep your fingers, toes, etc., crossed that I don't spill anything on anyone.
By the way, if you're out Tokyo way and you've stumbled on this blog by chance and are looking for a job, they're still hiring!
25 January 2007
18 January 2007
Why I'm proud to be American always... but sometimes not so much.
The following video perfectly demonstrates the feelings that prompted the title of this post: "Why I'm proud to be American always... but sometimes, not so much." Note: You must watch this video to understand the rest of the post.
How great is it that, in America, we have a show like "The Daily Show" that is there not just to mock or poke fun - even though it's really, really good at doing both of those things, but to also seriously point out contradictions, hypocrisies, alert people to real news, and provoke/promote critical (as in, "thinking caps on") thinking? (Um, yeah, I found out about Sadaam Hussein being executed a week later, thanks to "The Daily Show," which was actually on hiatus when SH was killed, but, then, so was I, so I guess it all worked out... By the way, in case you hadn't heard, Sadaam Hussein was executed.) I am proud to be American because of stuff like "The Daily Show" and, while we're at it, I'll mention my love for cultural and ethnic diversity and the availability of important documents and services in multiple languages and shoes in various widths and sizes. Glenn Beck... um, yeah, not so much.
And before I get a DELUGE of emails and/or comments from non-Americans jumping on the "Look, isn't America so stupid and isn't Borat just super awesome" bandwagon, I remind you that I said that I am always proud to be American... just sometimes, not so much. However, I am definitely not at the helm of the Borat bandwagon. It's one thing when it's my people making fun of my people, it's another thing if it's other people making fun of my people.
Also, before I get a DELUGE of emails and/or comments (you know, from my masses of anonymous readers, right?) telling me how I'm so un-American (Bad, American! Bad!) for thinking Glenn Beck is an idiot, allow me to point out that standing up for ignorant/stupid people whose job allows them to have access to spreading the stupid on national television and thus further aid in creating people who go around saying things like "Honorable Representative from Minnesota Ellison, it's not that I'm saying you're a potential terrorist just because you're a Muslim... I'm only implying it," is not something that someone who loves her/his country does. A patriot should want her/his country to strive to be its best and its best should not be stupid and/or ignorant.
And, yes, to my non-American friends out there, I did say "patriot" and, no, that does not mean I'm trading in my Tokyo metro commuter pass for a 1983 Ford pick-up truck fully-loaded with gun rack and Confederate flag. It just means that I like where I'm from and what shaped me and that doesn't mean that America is any better than anywhere else, it just means I'm cool with it. And, hopefully, you're cool with where you're from and what shaped you. If you're not, then may I suggest moving to Japan or America because they're both really cool places where you can watch lots of base wrestling and sumoball.
How great is it that, in America, we have a show like "The Daily Show" that is there not just to mock or poke fun - even though it's really, really good at doing both of those things, but to also seriously point out contradictions, hypocrisies, alert people to real news, and provoke/promote critical (as in, "thinking caps on") thinking? (Um, yeah, I found out about Sadaam Hussein being executed a week later, thanks to "The Daily Show," which was actually on hiatus when SH was killed, but, then, so was I, so I guess it all worked out... By the way, in case you hadn't heard, Sadaam Hussein was executed.) I am proud to be American because of stuff like "The Daily Show" and, while we're at it, I'll mention my love for cultural and ethnic diversity and the availability of important documents and services in multiple languages and shoes in various widths and sizes. Glenn Beck... um, yeah, not so much.
And before I get a DELUGE of emails and/or comments from non-Americans jumping on the "Look, isn't America so stupid and isn't Borat just super awesome" bandwagon, I remind you that I said that I am always proud to be American... just sometimes, not so much. However, I am definitely not at the helm of the Borat bandwagon. It's one thing when it's my people making fun of my people, it's another thing if it's other people making fun of my people.
Also, before I get a DELUGE of emails and/or comments (you know, from my masses of anonymous readers, right?) telling me how I'm so un-American (Bad, American! Bad!) for thinking Glenn Beck is an idiot, allow me to point out that standing up for ignorant/stupid people whose job allows them to have access to spreading the stupid on national television and thus further aid in creating people who go around saying things like "Honorable Representative from Minnesota Ellison, it's not that I'm saying you're a potential terrorist just because you're a Muslim... I'm only implying it," is not something that someone who loves her/his country does. A patriot should want her/his country to strive to be its best and its best should not be stupid and/or ignorant.
And, yes, to my non-American friends out there, I did say "patriot" and, no, that does not mean I'm trading in my Tokyo metro commuter pass for a 1983 Ford pick-up truck fully-loaded with gun rack and Confederate flag. It just means that I like where I'm from and what shaped me and that doesn't mean that America is any better than anywhere else, it just means I'm cool with it. And, hopefully, you're cool with where you're from and what shaped you. If you're not, then may I suggest moving to Japan or America because they're both really cool places where you can watch lots of base wrestling and sumoball.
14 January 2007
Internal Bleeding
I really think I might have done permanent damage to my internal organ(s). My insides may never be the same again - I may be irreversibly altered.
Before you begin to worry, I must assure you that I did not wake up in any bathtub full of ice with a note in my hand and a hole in my side where one of my kidneys used to be. As far as I know, both of my kidneys are still intact and fully operational.
I am, of course, referring to the much more common (in my complete guesstimation) and likely in Japan breakdown of my throat and vocal chords. The medical term for this condition is laryngal karaokeitis. Yes, my friends, I broke my karaoke organ. The real damage was done the night before I left to go home for Christmas, but the problems began 5 days before...
It was a fateful Sunday night, the day the music died. A friend and I had spent a long and productive day Christmas shopping at Asakusa shrine - this after yet another GasPanicky all-nighter on the Friday. So, needless to say, I was already feeling tired. My throat did begin to feel kind of sore toward the end of our shopping expedition, but I attributed that to simple fatigue. After a mediocre tempura dinner, we decided that the best dessert would be a round of karaoke. We swore to ourselves that we would only do an hour; after all, it was already near 9pm. So, we did some comparison shopping and tried unsuccessfully to haggle a good price with one of the street hawkers, but finally ended up at the Mercedes Benz (C-class, not E-class) of karaoke joints, where you pay for the looks but also get great performance. As there were only two of us and I had, by this time, explained the virtues of speed karaoke* to my friend, we were each able to do A LOT of singing, especially since I'm the quickest draw in the Far East for thinking up songs. The best part of this night was our discovery of Extreme Speed karaoke, where you sing every song literally as fast as the machine will allow you to set it - in Big Echo's case (a.k.a. the Mercedes Benz of karaoke joints), that's a 7 and we have yet to find a place that goes faster than Big Echo. We even figured out a "debut" song for when we're introducing Extreme Speed karaoke to people for the first time and an "encore" song that is really the piece de resistance of our set. These two titles will remain secret so as not to spoil the experience for any of my forthcoming visitors.
In the end, we just had to extend our time and ended up doing an hour-and-a-half. We probably would have done more, but luckily there were train times to consider. Anyway, by the next day it became clear that my sore throat was not due to fatigue but rather to the fact that I had come down with a cold. Which, of course, was greatly helped by my 90 minutes of Extreme Speed karaoke the night before.
Usually, my colds take ridiculously long to fizzle out, but I was careful to get plenty of sleep and fluids and vitamins that week and by Friday I was feeling a lot better, even if I was still a little congested. Of course, Friday night being the night before I and my fellow Extreme Speed singer left on holiday, we had to get the Usual Suspects together for a farewell dinner and karaoke. We hadn't had a chance to debut our secret new discovery and this was just the night for it. Ultimately, although we were four for dinner, only one of our friends continued on to karaoke with us to witness the newest thing in karaoke. Of course, as "luck" would have it, our friend doesn't really like to sing and refuses to sing alone, so it was again basically a two-man show. We not only showed off Extreme Speed karaoke (it wasn't as fast as we didn't hit Big Echo, but it was still good enough), but the place we went to had my song from "Sister Act 2" - the only place I'd seen it thus far. Plus, I had to get in my Mariah and JLo and Lara Fabian, of course, so lots of power ballads going out that night. Then, my non-singing friend idolizes, of course, none other than Mme Celine Dion - so I accompanied on that.
By the end of the night, I sounded even worse than Peter Brady at the height of puberty.
I could hardly speak as no sound would come out and when I did speak or swallow or breathe - basically everything, right?!? - it felt like sandpaper being quickly run up and down my vocal chords. Fun! When I got home, I promptly brewed some green tea and downed about 3 small cups before bed. During the night, the pain only got worse. I never slept for more than 30 minutes at a stretch as I kept waking up from the excruciating pain that was in my throat. What had been sand paper before, had turned into an animal with giant claws trying to paw its way out via my throat. I was finally able to suffienctly numb my throat in a coordinated offensive strategy of throat lozenge and hot green tea at the same time. I slept for 3 hours straight after that. I completely identified with the little girl who was sure it would hurt if she swallowed. Get your minds out of the gutter and into the circa 1990 Chloraseptic Spray commercial... Geez, you dirty pervs!
No surprise, my cold took a turn for the worse and I ended up being in some stage of cold and/or cold recovery for nearly my entire trip home. The fact that I've fallen in diva (that's karaoke speak for "I wish I were delusional enough to try out for American Idol just so that I could pretend that I'm Beyoncé or Mariah Carey in front of tens of millions of people who will scream at the television things like, "What the hell is wrong with this girl?! She must be delusional!!") with the "Dreamgirls" soundtrack and have been singing along with it non-stop since my roundtrip 13-hour long road trip to Arizona over the holidays, probably isn't helping.
I'm back in Tokyo now and we all went for karaoke Friday night. My laryngal karokeitis definitely started to flare up again but luckily there were six of us, so the singing was more evenly balanced. We Extreme Speed singers did do our two songs, but my voice got a lot more break time with the other singers there. However, I am definitely worried that with this condition I may never be able to truly and fully delude myself enough to audition for American Idol.
However, "Japan Idol," now that's another story...
*Speed Karaoke: When doing only a short segment of time of karaoke, one must practice speed karaoke wherein one sings only a portion of selected songs so as to fit in as many songs as possible and thereby optimize and efficiently utilize the allotted karaoke time. This is not necessary, though may be implemented, for those sessions lasting longer than an hour. This is my preferred method of karaoke.
Before you begin to worry, I must assure you that I did not wake up in any bathtub full of ice with a note in my hand and a hole in my side where one of my kidneys used to be. As far as I know, both of my kidneys are still intact and fully operational.
I am, of course, referring to the much more common (in my complete guesstimation) and likely in Japan breakdown of my throat and vocal chords. The medical term for this condition is laryngal karaokeitis. Yes, my friends, I broke my karaoke organ. The real damage was done the night before I left to go home for Christmas, but the problems began 5 days before...
It was a fateful Sunday night, the day the music died. A friend and I had spent a long and productive day Christmas shopping at Asakusa shrine - this after yet another GasPanicky all-nighter on the Friday. So, needless to say, I was already feeling tired. My throat did begin to feel kind of sore toward the end of our shopping expedition, but I attributed that to simple fatigue. After a mediocre tempura dinner, we decided that the best dessert would be a round of karaoke. We swore to ourselves that we would only do an hour; after all, it was already near 9pm. So, we did some comparison shopping and tried unsuccessfully to haggle a good price with one of the street hawkers, but finally ended up at the Mercedes Benz (C-class, not E-class) of karaoke joints, where you pay for the looks but also get great performance. As there were only two of us and I had, by this time, explained the virtues of speed karaoke* to my friend, we were each able to do A LOT of singing, especially since I'm the quickest draw in the Far East for thinking up songs. The best part of this night was our discovery of Extreme Speed karaoke, where you sing every song literally as fast as the machine will allow you to set it - in Big Echo's case (a.k.a. the Mercedes Benz of karaoke joints), that's a 7 and we have yet to find a place that goes faster than Big Echo. We even figured out a "debut" song for when we're introducing Extreme Speed karaoke to people for the first time and an "encore" song that is really the piece de resistance of our set. These two titles will remain secret so as not to spoil the experience for any of my forthcoming visitors.
In the end, we just had to extend our time and ended up doing an hour-and-a-half. We probably would have done more, but luckily there were train times to consider. Anyway, by the next day it became clear that my sore throat was not due to fatigue but rather to the fact that I had come down with a cold. Which, of course, was greatly helped by my 90 minutes of Extreme Speed karaoke the night before.
Usually, my colds take ridiculously long to fizzle out, but I was careful to get plenty of sleep and fluids and vitamins that week and by Friday I was feeling a lot better, even if I was still a little congested. Of course, Friday night being the night before I and my fellow Extreme Speed singer left on holiday, we had to get the Usual Suspects together for a farewell dinner and karaoke. We hadn't had a chance to debut our secret new discovery and this was just the night for it. Ultimately, although we were four for dinner, only one of our friends continued on to karaoke with us to witness the newest thing in karaoke. Of course, as "luck" would have it, our friend doesn't really like to sing and refuses to sing alone, so it was again basically a two-man show. We not only showed off Extreme Speed karaoke (it wasn't as fast as we didn't hit Big Echo, but it was still good enough), but the place we went to had my song from "Sister Act 2" - the only place I'd seen it thus far. Plus, I had to get in my Mariah and JLo and Lara Fabian, of course, so lots of power ballads going out that night. Then, my non-singing friend idolizes, of course, none other than Mme Celine Dion - so I accompanied on that.
By the end of the night, I sounded even worse than Peter Brady at the height of puberty.
I could hardly speak as no sound would come out and when I did speak or swallow or breathe - basically everything, right?!? - it felt like sandpaper being quickly run up and down my vocal chords. Fun! When I got home, I promptly brewed some green tea and downed about 3 small cups before bed. During the night, the pain only got worse. I never slept for more than 30 minutes at a stretch as I kept waking up from the excruciating pain that was in my throat. What had been sand paper before, had turned into an animal with giant claws trying to paw its way out via my throat. I was finally able to suffienctly numb my throat in a coordinated offensive strategy of throat lozenge and hot green tea at the same time. I slept for 3 hours straight after that. I completely identified with the little girl who was sure it would hurt if she swallowed. Get your minds out of the gutter and into the circa 1990 Chloraseptic Spray commercial... Geez, you dirty pervs!
No surprise, my cold took a turn for the worse and I ended up being in some stage of cold and/or cold recovery for nearly my entire trip home. The fact that I've fallen in diva (that's karaoke speak for "I wish I were delusional enough to try out for American Idol just so that I could pretend that I'm Beyoncé or Mariah Carey in front of tens of millions of people who will scream at the television things like, "What the hell is wrong with this girl?! She must be delusional!!") with the "Dreamgirls" soundtrack and have been singing along with it non-stop since my roundtrip 13-hour long road trip to Arizona over the holidays, probably isn't helping.
I'm back in Tokyo now and we all went for karaoke Friday night. My laryngal karokeitis definitely started to flare up again but luckily there were six of us, so the singing was more evenly balanced. We Extreme Speed singers did do our two songs, but my voice got a lot more break time with the other singers there. However, I am definitely worried that with this condition I may never be able to truly and fully delude myself enough to audition for American Idol.
However, "Japan Idol," now that's another story...
*Speed Karaoke: When doing only a short segment of time of karaoke, one must practice speed karaoke wherein one sings only a portion of selected songs so as to fit in as many songs as possible and thereby optimize and efficiently utilize the allotted karaoke time. This is not necessary, though may be implemented, for those sessions lasting longer than an hour. This is my preferred method of karaoke.
13 January 2007
'Coupling' - Steven Moffat throws us some crumbs
Spoiler Alert: This is the conclusion to the UK series "Coupling." If you're reading this blog, most likely at some point I have regaled the amazingness of this show to you and tried emphatically to convince you to watch it. So, just in case you're one of the people who actually gave into my badgering and have started watching the series - or are planning to - but haven't finished it yet, STOP READING HERE. If I haven't had the chance to introduce you to the amazingness yet, check it out here on YouTube!
Below is a description from Steven Moffat, "Coupling" creator and writer, of how he envisioned the characters' stories to go after that last episode of Series 4. He thinks there is little chance of the show resuming production and that we need to content ourselves with these few paragraphs. I cannot tell you how sad this makes me as this show is one of the few ever that has scenes and dialogue in it that has actually caused me to laugh to the point of tears rolling down my face as well as fall over. "Oh, Jeffrey!"
Okay, now for the goods:
Sally said yes to Patrick, they got married and are very happy. Especially as Sally beat Susan to the altar, and finally did something first. Patrick is now a completely devoted husband, who lives in total denial that he was anything other an upstanding member of the community. Or possibly he's actually forgotten. He doesn't like remembering things because it's a bit like thinking.
Jane and Oliver never actually did have sex, but they did become very good friends. They often rejoice together that their friendship is uncomplicated by any kind of sexual attraction - but they both get murderously jealous when the other is dating. Jane has a job at Oliver's science fiction book shop now - and since Oliver has that one moment of Naked Jane burnt on the inside of his eyelids, he now loses the place in one in every three sentences. People who know them well think something's gotta give - and they're right. Especially as Jane comes to work in a metal bikini.
Steve and Susan have two children now, and have recently completed work on a sitcom about their early lives together. They're developing a new television project, but it keeps getting delayed as he insists on writing episodes of some old kids show they recently pulled out of mothballs. She gets very cross about this, and if he says "Yeah but check out the season poll!" one more time, he will not live to write another word.
Jeff is still abroad. He lives a life a complete peace and serenity now, having taken the precaution of not learning a word of the local langauge and therefore protecting himself from the consequences of his own special brand of communication. If any English speakers turn up, he pretends he only speaks Hebrew. He is, at this very moment, staring out to sea, and sighing happily every thirty-eight seconds.
What he doesn't know, of course, is that even now a beautiful Israeli girl he once met in a bar, is heading towards his apartment, having been directed to the only Hebrew speaker on the island. What he also doesn't know is that she is being driven by a young ex-pat English woman, who is still grieving the loss of a charming, one-legged Welshman she once met on a train. And he cannot possible suspect that (owing to a laundry mix-up, and a stag party the previous night in the same block) he is wearing heat-dissolving trunks.
As the doorbell rings, it is best that we draw a veil.
Below is a description from Steven Moffat, "Coupling" creator and writer, of how he envisioned the characters' stories to go after that last episode of Series 4. He thinks there is little chance of the show resuming production and that we need to content ourselves with these few paragraphs. I cannot tell you how sad this makes me as this show is one of the few ever that has scenes and dialogue in it that has actually caused me to laugh to the point of tears rolling down my face as well as fall over. "Oh, Jeffrey!"
Okay, now for the goods:
Sally said yes to Patrick, they got married and are very happy. Especially as Sally beat Susan to the altar, and finally did something first. Patrick is now a completely devoted husband, who lives in total denial that he was anything other an upstanding member of the community. Or possibly he's actually forgotten. He doesn't like remembering things because it's a bit like thinking.
Jane and Oliver never actually did have sex, but they did become very good friends. They often rejoice together that their friendship is uncomplicated by any kind of sexual attraction - but they both get murderously jealous when the other is dating. Jane has a job at Oliver's science fiction book shop now - and since Oliver has that one moment of Naked Jane burnt on the inside of his eyelids, he now loses the place in one in every three sentences. People who know them well think something's gotta give - and they're right. Especially as Jane comes to work in a metal bikini.
Steve and Susan have two children now, and have recently completed work on a sitcom about their early lives together. They're developing a new television project, but it keeps getting delayed as he insists on writing episodes of some old kids show they recently pulled out of mothballs. She gets very cross about this, and if he says "Yeah but check out the season poll!" one more time, he will not live to write another word.
Jeff is still abroad. He lives a life a complete peace and serenity now, having taken the precaution of not learning a word of the local langauge and therefore protecting himself from the consequences of his own special brand of communication. If any English speakers turn up, he pretends he only speaks Hebrew. He is, at this very moment, staring out to sea, and sighing happily every thirty-eight seconds.
What he doesn't know, of course, is that even now a beautiful Israeli girl he once met in a bar, is heading towards his apartment, having been directed to the only Hebrew speaker on the island. What he also doesn't know is that she is being driven by a young ex-pat English woman, who is still grieving the loss of a charming, one-legged Welshman she once met on a train. And he cannot possible suspect that (owing to a laundry mix-up, and a stag party the previous night in the same block) he is wearing heat-dissolving trunks.
As the doorbell rings, it is best that we draw a veil.
11 January 2007
Please, sir, I want more.
As you may or may not have deduced from the information I've provided in previous posts and comments, I'm officially a member of the semi-working semi-poor. By semi, I mean several things:
1) I mean that I make ends meet, but not mainly by any of my own current income, rather mostly from major help from the parents and savings from my 2 years back in California. Needless to say, any money I saved in Paris is loooooong gooooone. :) Also, the money I did manage to save during those 2 years back home, has basically already been used even if it hasn't yet been paid out.
2) I don't actually live the life of a pauper, thanks to the afore-mentioned very kind and very generous parents. So, I'm cheap when I spend, but I do spend.
Make no mistake, I really am looking for more steady work and hopefully that dream bar job will soon become a reality, but the fact that I have Japanese class every morning, M-F, puts a damper on a lot of office work. Anyway, I'll keep you posted on the job front. Moving on...
So, in a small and sad attempt to pad my income in any way possible, I have decided to add "AdSense" to my blog. I know it might be a bit annoying for you readers, but going with the idea that most, if not all, of my readers are people that I variously hang out with (e.g. need money to go to places with ya) and/or owe money to, I figure you'll bear with me and maybe even aid me by clicking on an ad if it interests you. At least they're targeted Google ads, so hopefully they'll have fun stuff like "The Store with Everything you Need to Live in the Future" or "Monkey Cages On Sale Now!" The ads should be up in a few days, so please enjoy the next couple days of reading commercial free. :)
I really do apologize for any inconvenience and I hope that adding AdSense won't deter you from reading.
Ok, here we go...!
1) I mean that I make ends meet, but not mainly by any of my own current income, rather mostly from major help from the parents and savings from my 2 years back in California. Needless to say, any money I saved in Paris is loooooong gooooone. :) Also, the money I did manage to save during those 2 years back home, has basically already been used even if it hasn't yet been paid out.
2) I don't actually live the life of a pauper, thanks to the afore-mentioned very kind and very generous parents. So, I'm cheap when I spend, but I do spend.
Make no mistake, I really am looking for more steady work and hopefully that dream bar job will soon become a reality, but the fact that I have Japanese class every morning, M-F, puts a damper on a lot of office work. Anyway, I'll keep you posted on the job front. Moving on...
So, in a small and sad attempt to pad my income in any way possible, I have decided to add "AdSense" to my blog. I know it might be a bit annoying for you readers, but going with the idea that most, if not all, of my readers are people that I variously hang out with (e.g. need money to go to places with ya) and/or owe money to, I figure you'll bear with me and maybe even aid me by clicking on an ad if it interests you. At least they're targeted Google ads, so hopefully they'll have fun stuff like "The Store with Everything you Need to Live in the Future" or "Monkey Cages On Sale Now!" The ads should be up in a few days, so please enjoy the next couple days of reading commercial free. :)
I really do apologize for any inconvenience and I hope that adding AdSense won't deter you from reading.
Ok, here we go...!
10 January 2007
I have futureness.
Yes, this is actually related to my time in Tokyo and Japan in general. As much as I'm sure you loved the French pop music and Charlie Brown homage, you're probably ready to get back to Tokyo reality. And, boy, oh, boy, this one is a doozy.
Prepare to enter another dimension.
A dimension that is beyond what humanity has been able to explore or grasp... until now. A concept so complicated yet with a solution so simple, it's never before been realized. This has all changed, however, because, I, Miki, Me, Moi, have discovered this phenomenon and am finally ready to bring this discovery to the world:
I live in the future.
Because it is such a momentous concept and statement, allow me to repeat myself:
I live in the future.
Okay, granted, it's only 17 hours in the future (16 during non-Daylight Savings months), but it is the future, no less.
"How did you discover this," you ask?
I came to this conclusion entirely on my own, with no help from anyone else (in fact, the realization was my own, though the circumstance that prompted the realization did include another person who shall remain nameless not for privacy's sake, but for the sake of irritating the hell out of her).
During a very heated email "discussion" about who came up with the phrase "math college" (it was sooo me!! And, you can't debate "science college" with me, because that was all me, Vowels!!), it became clear that because I had determined myself the winner first in the email debate AND because I not only said it first, but in fact said it 17 hours ahead of that same time in California, I was in the future and therefore I said it first. The other party in this discussion (still nameless, for irritation's sake) insisted that because she's in the past, she said it first. Whatever.
You may have your own opinions about whether or not I said it first or she said it first, but the conclusion of said debate is a "moo point" ("moo point" is a "Friends" reference, I'm not an idiot... usually). The point that is paramount here is that I live in the future. The frickin' future, people!
How far in the future I live depends on where YOU are. I cannot help you with betting results a la "Back to the Future II," sadly, but I can tell you what things are like in Tokyo today so that when it gets to your tomorrow, you know how things were in Tokyo the day before which is currently your present.
Chew on that one for a while.
p.s. I'm totally turning the title of this post into an Engrish t-shirt, so don't even think of using it!
Prepare to enter another dimension.
A dimension that is beyond what humanity has been able to explore or grasp... until now. A concept so complicated yet with a solution so simple, it's never before been realized. This has all changed, however, because, I, Miki, Me, Moi, have discovered this phenomenon and am finally ready to bring this discovery to the world:
I live in the future.
Because it is such a momentous concept and statement, allow me to repeat myself:
I live in the future.
Okay, granted, it's only 17 hours in the future (16 during non-Daylight Savings months), but it is the future, no less.
"How did you discover this," you ask?
I came to this conclusion entirely on my own, with no help from anyone else (in fact, the realization was my own, though the circumstance that prompted the realization did include another person who shall remain nameless not for privacy's sake, but for the sake of irritating the hell out of her).
During a very heated email "discussion" about who came up with the phrase "math college" (it was sooo me!! And, you can't debate "science college" with me, because that was all me, Vowels!!), it became clear that because I had determined myself the winner first in the email debate AND because I not only said it first, but in fact said it 17 hours ahead of that same time in California, I was in the future and therefore I said it first. The other party in this discussion (still nameless, for irritation's sake) insisted that because she's in the past, she said it first. Whatever.
You may have your own opinions about whether or not I said it first or she said it first, but the conclusion of said debate is a "moo point" ("moo point" is a "Friends" reference, I'm not an idiot... usually). The point that is paramount here is that I live in the future. The frickin' future, people!
How far in the future I live depends on where YOU are. I cannot help you with betting results a la "Back to the Future II," sadly, but I can tell you what things are like in Tokyo today so that when it gets to your tomorrow, you know how things were in Tokyo the day before which is currently your present.
Chew on that one for a while.
p.s. I'm totally turning the title of this post into an Engrish t-shirt, so don't even think of using it!
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