Sorry that I haven’t been sending in columns lately (like you care).  I had a somewhat ridiculous past couple of weeks in that I would think to myself “Oh, I should write to Japanese club.” and then about five seconds later, I’d be like “Oh wow, everything on the internet is FASCINATING…”  And that brings us to now.

So what have I been up to?  I finally managed to buy a pre-paid cell phone, I went to a natural history museum, and had one of my Korean classmates sing Gwen Stefani to me (uncensored).

Gosh, beyond that, what could possibly noteworthy enough to report?  Oh, the guy that I’m creeping on had to go back to Korea for two weeks, so my classroom antics have been increasingly strange due to not giving a flying you-know-what.

My classmates probably think that I’m completely insane.  This is okay because it might be true.  But they think this for all the wrong reasons.  For instance, my habit of dipping french fries in my milkshakes.  They were appalled when I told them of this.  And of course, the only other American in my class wasn’t paying attention, so he was no help in assuring them that it really isn’t just me.

I think I may have also unintentionally convinced them that I come from a family of lumberjacks who wrestle bears.  I swear, that wasn’t my intent.  But I’ll roll with it I guess.

I also got talked into doing a 6-hour-long karaoke session with some of the other American students.  It was glorious.

Well, that’s all I’ve got.  Until next time.

So I don’t really remember much of anything from week 8 because again it was filled with brutal studying.  However, as week 9 dawned, I was assigned a seat (we get new seats every week) next to the other guy who’s lived in America.  His name is Albert and he’s the same age as my older brother…27.  In general, I just assumed that we would get along because I’ve found that people from the same country or at least speak the same native language are more likely to get along.  While I’m not wrong in this, I think I scare the shit out of Albert, most likely because every now and then I start saying “Hey hey hey,” and demand that he wears a bright red sweater.  Mind you, this Albert is from Taiwan and is no where near fat nor African American.  (If you don’t get the reference, look up Fat Albert and suffer in shame.)  So after another hardcore test that was draining to say the least, we have to come up with a skit.  By this point I wanted nothing to do with the Japanese language for the day, but seeing as how Albert was my partner, I had to capitalize on our shared knowledge base.  We ended up doing a skit where I was Jesus Christ, 日本語で、イエスキリスト, and I happened to have lost my student ID.  The skit ended the only way it should, with me performing a miracle and Albert praising me like a Southern Baptist.  Yeah. Anytime  you get to yell　[ ミラクルをしなくちゃいけまあせん！] (editor’s note: roughly “We need a miracle!”) while standing on a chair raising  your hands to the ceiling while a man verging on thirty pretends you’re the messiah and starts dancing is pretty much the ideal way to be as awesome as me. That’s also why I said heretical.  Suddenly, everybody knows that when you’re partners with Katie *****, you are doomed to have to do something ridiculous.  I relish in the glory.

So a few days later, we got our health exam papers back.  You know, the one where I had to pee in a cup over a 和式, and got to make jokes about 勃起。 In any case, when I whip out the results, I have no idea what I’m looking at.  I know in general what everything means, but I don’t know whether it’s good or bad until I find the explanation sheet (also in Japanese).  So I start translating this sheet, and the first thing it tells me is that I’m corpulent.  Yes, that exact translation.  It tells me that I need to start working out everyday and to control my eating habits.  It tells me I need to build more muscle.  It also tells me that my blood pressure is low, and I should get a cardio exam sometime.  There are a number things wrong with this analysis.  FIRST of all, while I am on the heavier side, corpulent I am not.  I even see Japanese heavier than me on a daily basis, especially when I walk to Mister Donut. Second of all, the reason I am so heavy is because I did weight training up until I got out of high school.  Apparently I’m not muscular enough?  I don’t know, what do you think Caitlin’s mom?  (Recently Caitlin and I discussed how her mom thought I was beefy XD).  Also, my blood pressure is low because I have a heart disease, one the doctors in question know about.  So I’m wondering, in all sincerity, whether these mass Japanese health exams are just a bunch of bullshit?  I considered asking one of my potential language exchange partners (all men over 35 who I have made the executive decision not to meet) about this.  I don’t want to be rude, but I feel like these results were based on something other than anatomical science.

So that leads to my final story, and a good one it is.  On the day I pretended to be Jesus, I went searching for coats in the afternoon.  I wish I could say I found one, but I did not.  Instead I found mormon missionaries.  They were quite pleased to meet me, and in general, I tend to be cordial towards strangers, so we ended up talking until the sun went down.  They invited me to a game night on Friday, and I figured why the hell not?  I have no plans, and I certainly have no friends.  What’s the worst that could happen?  So I went on Friday and I walked into a large chapel with about seven dudes in suits and three women dressed in sweaters, skirts, and dresses.  I, being the bro that I’ve become, was dressed in pants that don’t fit me, a t-shirt with holes in it, and a hoodie.  I knew then that something was about to go down and it did.  We played Cops and Robbers.  It was not just a simple game of “oh lol I found you, tag you silly robber.”  No.  It was more like, RUN FOR YOUR LIFE, AVOID FLYING ASIAN MORMONS, and WATCH OUT FOR THAT WHITE GUY WHO IS MOST CERTAINLY GOING TO BODY SLAM YOU INTO A PARKING METER.  Shit got intense.  I literally saw a man jump out of a window, Harry Potter scarf flowing behind him like a nyan cat rainbow, and hit the ground running at full speed, just to jump again and mid-air tackle a tall blonde guy trying to jump a fence.  When Mormons go at it, they go at it hard.  I was aroused.  In any case, afterwards we were all battered and bruised.  I was even bleeding.  That’s how you know game night went well.  As we chatted I found out that they too were all older than me.  Everyone was in their late 20s.  I can’t imagine where everybody gets the energy from in Japan.  They invited me back next week, and I dare say that if nothing comes up, I totally will.  I don’t know how they’ll top this week though.

So there you have it.  I may not have a good time all the time, but when I do, I have a good time with batshit Mormons.
Until next I write, have a lovely lovely December.
Katie *****

Nothing of imminent importance, shockingly.  I did have the best weekend in recorded history though.  I definitely got lost in Shinjuku station while waiting for Katie and had to ask these fundamentalist Christians for directions.  I took one of their pamphlets as a thank you, as I had been wandering around for about half an hour at that point.  As not to offend, I will not divulge the pamphlet’s eventual fate.

We spent a fantastic evening eating McDonald’s and making fun of Tad (One of our other friends who is in Japan) and largely making lewd conversation, as Katie and I are so known to do.  Ask Fernandez-san if you want stories of her and I in class.  If he remembers any.

And that brings us to Sunday.  We met up with Shintaro, who took us out for food and karaoke.  I had alcohol (for the second time in my life) and so I think that my evaluation of my own performance is probably unreliable.  I get the feeling that I THOUGHT that I was a lot better than I actually was.  Such is life.  But whatever, I rocked out to David Bowie, Rick Astley (Much to Tad’s anger), and of course, Do Ya Think I’m Sexy by Rod Stewart.

Yesterday I was supposed to go out with my friends from school for karaoke, but it has been postponed.  So I spent it studying for an impending kanji test.  True story.

In other news, I get to see my midterm grades next Tuesday.  So far I’ve determined that I’m passing.  Like a boss.

But yes, that’s all I’ve really got.  Oh, except that apparently there was a very small earthquake while I was out walking around in Ikebukuro today that I did not know was happening.  I read about it on a friend’s facebook about an hour after.  How bizarre.

***** here.  I don’t know if you noticed, but I didn’t write last week and I’m pretty late into week 8 writing about week 7.  Not to worry though.  I’m just a cold hard bitch roaming around in a country full of sweet-hearts.  Really, week six was a blur of failure, confusion, and wanting to go back to America. Yes, I’m not going to sugar coat it, there are going to be times where I am going to just be incomprehensibly distraught.  However, right now, I’m in a good mood, so I’ll stay as long as I damn well please.  So what happened last week?  I was awesome that’s what happened.

First and foremost, I celebrated being foreign by going shopping in and around numerous sporting goods places.  I got some weird looks from people, but at this point, I am starting to give about as many fucks as Einstein did in High School.    So now I have a happy set of men’s workout shirts and my latest aim is to buy as many pairs of sweat pants as possible on Black Friday.  Yes, I have almost completely given up on looking remotely presentable because I cannot afford to look good at this point.  I had a reason to buy these sports clothes however.

On Tuesday the 15^th, I was an immensely bro version of myself participating in a mini 運動会.  You cannot comprehend how popular I was that day.  I was everyone’s favorite fat white girl.  I was also the only person out of the whole school (about 500 people) wearing shorts.  This proved to be genius however because I had Asian girls and boys both trying to huddle with me to keep me warm.  I was actually fine until it started raining, but whatever made them feel better, you know.  I’m not one to turn down any form of Asian lovin’.    I also got to pose for a ton of photos for some Swedish boys, who I’m beginning to think either enjoy my presence or at least enjoy the chaos my presence tends to bring.  I also got in a dance battle using Mortal Kombat special moves. Nobody questioned it here, which is why I think I should live here forever after everyone I know is married.

Finally, starting Friday evening, I made my way into Tokyo to visit Caitlin, Tad, and Shintaro on the night bus.  The night bus was living hell and I can’t believe I put myself through that, so when I go back for Christmas in Tokyo Disney (I KNOW,  RIGHT?!), I’m shelling out the extra cash to take the shinkansen.  Really all the night bus was happened to be me sweating for about 5 hours straight next to a woman with body odor (that’s right, not all Japanese people are odorless >.>) who also just happened to have a heinous cold.  My legs were shoved somewhere  in a crevice, and whenever the driver wasn’t looking, the isle.  I’m pretty sure these buses were not made for anyone of my size or temperament.  Once I got to Tokyo at 6 in the god damn morning, I walked out into the drizzling rain to Yoyogi park.  I realized I was on the verge of illness relatively soon however, seeing as how I didn’t bring a coat, so I decided to wander about to find a Starbucks.  After I found one, my day got brighter about tenfold, so by the time I checked in at the Ryokan I was staying at, I was chipper and almost dead.  I accidently slept past my meeting time with the friends, but they allowed it and there was much joyous celebrating.  If you want to know what we did, please refer to Caitlin’s post.

On a final note,  while I was staying at the Ryokan, I ended up getting my flirt on with one of the guys that worked there, who apparently found my ability to fall up the stairs in a frozen stupor endearing.  Needless to say, I’m going to stay there again for Christmas, and if he’s working then, I will make him take a picture with me.  That is all.

I guess until next  week!

Katie *****

P.S. I’m sorry I didn’t write last week.  I figured no one would care…

I have super exciting weekend plans that I’m sure will make Fernandez-san totally jealous.  Katie will be coming up to visit me, and we shall be meeting up with Tad, Barty, and… Wait for it… Shintaro.  U Jelly, Fernandez-san?  I’ll take a lot of pictures, so maybe it will feel like you were there in spirit, even though, no, you weren’t. 

But yes, I am planning to have a fantastic weekend, and if I’m lucky I might get the courage to ask my Korean friend out to dinner next week.  This process is complicated by the fact that I only know about restaurants in Kawaguchi, which is like 40 minutes away from where everybody else lives.  Of course.

I have also noticed a definite improvement in my speaking ability since coming to Japan.  I realized that I stutter a lot when I talk, which I thought was a result of being nervous in a class of Koreans who are better at Japanese than I am.  Turns out, no, I’ve always done that.  But there has been a noticeable improvement as of late.  I suppose that’s what happens when you go for days at a time not speaking any English. Prepare to be amazed by my 1337 5k1lL2 when I return to America.

Also, all of my classmates think it’s really funny to compliment my English.  Not sure if they’re being facetious or are all just goofballs.  Based on experience, I’m going to go with the second one.  Speaking of which, my teachers always tell me that I have an American accent.  At first I was just kind of like “Okay then…”  But now I always just reply “Yes… It’s because I’m American.”  Which they all seem to think is hilarious.  At least someone appreciates my wit.  Well, them and Katie.

I went to the Edo Tokyo museum on Sunday, which was quite fun.  Our guide seemed impressed by my knowledge of Japanese history (I give all credit to Professor Udry.  Seriously, take his classes).  He was also just an awesome guy who said many amusing things to us throughout our tour.  But by far my favorite was this:

“And over here on the model, we can see two people meeting behind a building. She is a samurai’s daughter and he is a craftsman’s son. It’s forbidden love, like Romeo and Juliet. I wonder what they’re talking about? Maybe they’re talking about committing suicide together. Or maybe they’re talking about kabuki or something.”

That’s what all star-crossed lovers do in dark alleyways, isn’t it?

In other news, I ended up hanging out in Akihabara with an extremely attractive Korean classmate of mine, who turned out to be 30.  More on that story as it develops.

My  host mom is convinced that I am the subject of much gossip.  It’s an old superstition in Japan that when one sneezes once randomly without provocation, someone is talking about you.  I sneeze multiple times every day, usually only once or twice at a time.  I must either be really popular or really unpopular.  But, as Oscar Wilde once said “The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about.”

I also seem to have managed to mess up my insurance billing, so the bill is being included on my host mother’s insurance bill.  Oops.  Looking into getting that fixed as we speak.

My midterms are coming up next week.  I feel like I should do fine.  And because I feel that way, I’ll probably end up doing horribly.  Because my brain is a scumbag.

Beyond that, there’s really not much going on worth reporting.  I accidentally swore (In English) during our class break-time last week.  You would have thought that I was George Carlin, the way people were laughing.   I am much beloved.

But yeah, things are fairly routine here as of now.  Until next week.

Culture day was on Thursday, and I was seriously wondering whether I was supposed to do something specific on that day.  There wasn’t any school, so I just assumed that there was going to be something massively organized, because Kyoto is like that.  There wasn’t anything really enticing going on in my neighborhood, so I ended up at the International house (sadly not of pancakes).  There was a cultural celebration going on all right.  I could tell by the fact that at the entrance to the parking lot there was a Japanese man dressed as Santa playing the ukelele.  I’ve decided that I will set up an advertising firm and give that man a permanent job… I’ve never found Santa nor the ukelele more arousing than at that moment.  Really, all I did at the fair was eat.  It was a good choice because I had Russian girls serving me pita bread. (It’s ピタパン and I couldn’t order it with a straight face.  (Editor’s note: The Japanese way of saying “pita bread” sounds a lot like “Peter Pan”.) I had to keep making jokes about how I was going to eat it Neverland, and I started looking around for Native Americans to ask what makes the red man red.  This is why I’m considered a huge asshole back in the states.)  I ran into a strange Japanese man who wanted to talk about American politics and religion in Japanese, which I could have told him was a terrible idea from the start, but I made it about ten minutes into the conversation before making an excuse to leave.   Aren’t those the two things you’re not supposed to talk about unless you’re close friends?  Even then, you usually avoid them I’d think.

The next day, I was shamelessly flirting with one of the Swedish kids when we came across a snag in our verbal battle.  He declared that bands like Super Junior should not exist while Eric Clapton was still alive.  (This came out of nowhere, trust me.)  Now, I do agree that Eric Clapton does indeed have more skill and is actually a musician, while Super Junior, a 13 member boyband from Korea, does not really have musical skill.  However, they should still exist because if there was no Super Junior, I’d have a slightly emptier folder of beautiful Asian boy pictures on my computer.  I’d also have more space in my itunes library…because I’m pretty sure I have at least 40 of their songs.  My mixtapes of the past few years would be missing youthful Korean flavor, and we can’t have that.  This is hard to explain to someone I would consider a Swedish version of Scumbag Steve.  I just ended the conversation by saying “but I don’t want to be in a gang-bang with Eric Clapton”. This lead to a sure victory.

I went to a night club on Saturday, and I’m wildly happy that my first clubbing experience was in Japan.  Most of the guys there are too nice to try to dry hump you into a wall, so you just end up doing weird shit with your arms and legs.  They seemed to appreciate such classics as the Q-tip, the shopping cart, and the “eureka!”  Yes, I was bringing the heat with my Middle-school era dancing.  I ended up going in a party of the girls from my house, a Japanese boy named Yuuki, and a German guy, who if I’m lucky enough, I will eventually make poor decisions with.  The reason I’m only telling you Yuuki’s name is because I will never see him again, and you won’t ever meet him either– so it’s free game.  Yuuki was the most serious human beings I have ever met in my life.  Although he speaks fluent English, he never smiles when he’s speaking it.  I don’t know if he even knows how to joke.  I knew right away that we were not going to be friends, because I believe life is one huge joke.  So I spent the evening switching between the Germans and taking care of a nameless Japanese guy that hit on me early in the evening, and then got so drunk he passed out in a corner.  I really couldn’t just let him lay there, so I bought him water and accompanied him outside when he needed fresh air.  (I’ve had a lot of practice in the arena of taking care of drunk people, as I’ve been a designated driver since I turned 16.)  Apparently, some of the girls from school were at the club as well, and when they saw me talking with all these Japanese guys (I had to, because I was trying to find out where the hell this guy’s friends were) they thought I was some sort of Asians-only slut.  I don’t have the heart to tell them they’re wrong, because this is the best reputation I’ve ever had.

Finally, I was taking a break from massive studying to write all these things, because I have a giant test tomorrow.  As far as I know, I’ve put in about 16+ hours of studying (including those few hours that I had diarrhea)  ((Best time to study actually)) and I might put in an all-nighter tonight.

After this test, I’m going to be training for a ping-pong ball on a spoon race.  I’m dead fucking serious.  I’m going to train for this so that I do not fail my classmates. I WILL END MY OPPONENTS.  I’ll write a novel on it later.

I hope you all are getting along well. 頑張れ！ (damn straight I’m using strong, manly imperatives.  better recogNIZE.)
Katie *****

Friday, I went to a barbeque with my classmates (Actually, my entire school) at a park in Shinkiba.  As per usual, I got lost in Ikebukuro station, but managed to find my way to the meeting point in time anyway.

So, once I actually got to the BBQ, many glorious things happened.  Such as the Koreans putting too much oil on our pan and the pan itself catching fire… Twice.  I also learned a lot about Chinese and Korean culture.  For instance, apparently, when you offer someone food, you literally feed it to them.   Which I couldn’t explain why I thought it was so funny until I realized that it was because in America, doing so is fairly sexual.

We also played these games, which were similar to team building activities that we have in America, but with a twist:  When you messed up, you weren’t “out.”  Your friends got to beat you!  One of my friends, Changdae-san (Who, Katie has pointed out, looks like the Korean version of Ron Weasley), was very enthusiastic about hitting people.  I only messed up a couple of times, but still.  It was like the love child of Elementary school name games and corporeal punishment.

I also learned that Korean and Chinese guys have no sense of personal space around each other… But that is a story better told in person.

Also, this weekend my host mother took me to Asakusa, where I very narrowly resisted the temptation to buy a ton of things that I don’t need.  I’ll save that for next time I’m there.

I got my fortune told at the temple there.  In case you were unaware, to get your fortune you pay money, then shake this little box until a stick comes out.  That stick will have a number, which corresponds to a specific fortune.  Well, my fortune happened to be #69, which I found to be hilarious, because I’m mature like that.

So I go and get the fortune itself… Terrible luck.  Sad.  That’s what I get for being immature, I guess.

Beyond that, I really haven’t been up to much outside of schooling.  Which is going fairly well, if you were curious.

My health exam was pretty much unfortunate.  You see, at my high school, whenever I had to have a physical exam, we had to wear sports clothes (i.e. loose-fitting t-shirts and shorts or sweatpants etc.).  So, on Tuesday, I ballsily stepped into school wearing an oversized t-shirt (says “Beware of Perverts” in Japanese and was totally a gift from Caitlin), shorts, and my hair up in a very basic ponytail.  People fuckin’ stare.  Seriously, it’s like the Taiwanese girls just saw a troll or something; I was afraid they were going to pull a Professor Quirrell on my ass.  So I went through the day with people just kind of avoiding me more than usual.  A Swedish guy later kindly mentioned that part of it was that it was kind of cold that day, so I’d be standing a on a street corner next to people in puffy winter coats with fur on the hood.  He ended that conversation with “Yes, you look strange”.  During the actual health exam, I ended up waiting with the boys from my class to go pee in a cup.  I never thought I’d have to ever type that sentence.  I really don’t know why they made me wait with the boys, for I still was going to use the women’s restroom.  Turns out I had to pee in a cup over one of those hole-in-the-ground toilets that I’m still not aware of how to use properly.  I was going to say something, but then I realized that if I ever want to be on good terms with the guys in my class, I better keep my trap shut about how taking a piss is difficult.

Friday evening, I went to a Halloween party put on by a club that I guess I am now half a member of.  I went dressed as a lumberjack, and if you can see my profile picture on facebook, you’ll know how serious I was about it.  As soon as I walked in, some of the girls from my class got really excited.  I might have been the hottest white guy they had seen since coming here.  Then, they realized it was me and the paparazzi inside them bloomed.  Seriously, girls were taking pictures with me for about ten minutes straight, and some of them made their boyfriends take pictures with me, and some of them kissed my cheek and I was like, WHY AM I NOT A MAN?  Some people who had not met me yet indeed thought I was a man.  I got into a conversation with two Japanese boys who were so seriously surprised, we’ve made plans to meet again when I look like a girl just to compare notes.  So I stayed for the whole party, because I was fucking famous, and I even helped clean up.  I ended up going to dinner with the club that put together the party and when they realized that I had only been there a month, they decided to take me out to karaoke.

Now, of course I’ve been to karaoke before with my host sisters, but going with an international cast was way better.  Actually, they all got really excited when I got up to sing, largely because I sang Lady Gaga while dressed as a lumberjack, and I was a little drunk.  I most certainly danced to NSYNC’s Bye Bye Bye as well.  If you have not been exposed to my white girl dance, I suggest you watch a video of someone with a club foot, and you’ll have a pretty good idea.  In the end, I was most excited to listen to a Swed sing Iron Man, and I got to sing a duet with a Taiwanese girl…although I had to do Eminem’s part in I Like the Way You Lie.

Osaka is brilliant and FUCKING HUGE.  BRILLIANT I SAY, but seriously it was terrifying trying to find places.  I am so glad that it was Suzanne’s idea to go.  We went to Osaka Bunka fashion college and Mode Gakuen.  I don’t know if you’ve ever been to a fashion college before, but let’s just say that they’re pretty much the most beautiful places in existence.  We met with the dean of Bunka, because he spoke fluent English.  Seriously, I never thought I’d see that many sewing machines together in my life, but when I did, I think I had an orgasm…it was powerful stuff. Mode Gakuen was a little bit weird, because they have a fucking robot secretary, I shit you not.  I wanted to take a picture of it, but there was a very serious security guard chillin’ in the entryway as well, so I thought any shenaniganry would get us kicked out immediately.  If that had happened I would get to listen to a man who was VERY serious about designing clothes, so much so, that when he first saw me he said, “Why would anyone wear that?”  I have firmly decided that I’m going to start wearing track suits everywhere because then people won’t give me shit.

Well, now I’m going to go attain a hot girl disguise so that I can face my classmates again.  And then I’m going to go eat some Mister Donut because Mister Donut is food science’s gift to fat people like myself.  I hope you all have a good week.
(Having a shitty time?  Eat and work out.  Best remedy to every negative mood)
Katie *****

The trip was pretty amazing.  We visited a lot of shrines and temples, as well as the Daibutsu (Great Buddha).  Highlights of the trip include walking down the street and passing one of those guys who pull the carts that you can sit in, while he marches right up to me, and proudly declares: “THIS IS JAPANESE CULTURE!”  In addition to that, I tried squid sashimi (Not a fan), and participated in general goofing off.  I once again took up the opportunity to get naked in front of my friends and went to the hotel’s public baths.  If I had to estimate how much I’ve walked over the past two days, I’d mark it up to about 14 or 15 hours.  How many miles that is, I do not care to imagine.  On a somewhat related note:  A warning to all aspiring Yukata wearers:  Be on constant alert the first few times you wear them.  They have the habit of deciding to open up.  In awkward places.

In other news, I have to go register for my Alien registration card tomorrow.  I’m not really looking forward to trying to locate the office that I need to find.  But it’ll be a lot more convenient than carrying around my passport all the time.  Well, that and I’m required by the Japanese government to get one.  I suppose that’s also an important consideration.

I have been invited out to dinner by the Korean students in my class.  We shall be going out tomorrow.  Perhaps they feel bad for me because I am now only one of two Americans in my class?  In any case, yay going out to dinner with other people!

Also, you may be amused to note that last night I had a dream that Takahashi sensei grew a Freddy Mercury moustache.  Just fyi.