This post is really about getting things out of my head. Feel free to avoid it.
So, back around a month ago I posted about training my brain to say some basic phrases of explanation in Japanese so my in-laws can understand how I feel about the US election. My in-laws are so tactful that they never asked, but the confirmation that we have slightly different views may have created a little rift between my father-in-law and myself, but again, it's nothing anyone is bringing up with me.
This is not what is stuck in my brain, making me fight invisible forces with words I'll never say.
A well meaning acquaintance and Facebook friend, who admittedly knows little of my abilities either in Japanese or as a writer, suggested I used the basic comparative phrases to indicate that I preferred Clinton.
I could be bothered by someone trying to teach me phrasing I've been using for more than a decade, but what bugs me is that she really thinks it is that simple.
Even if no one gets this, just so it is out of my head, my problems with our rapist orange commander in chief-to-be are not as simple as "I prefer bitches in pantsuits."
It's just not.
We can dissect his track record with companies he's started and failed at, his expert-level cronyism, the corruption and scandals and abuses of power already exemplified in his business practices, but all of this has already been done by proper journalists.
Our orange Hitler (and I do not use the term lightly) who clamored to the top by spouting a logic of hate is not cool with me, not just because he speaks for almost nothing I believe in, but also because he just told the bigots of America that they are justified in wanting to be treated special for being white and wanting anyone unlike them in creed, color, etc to be treated like human garbage.
My hatred of trump is not based on a love of Clinton, who I don't have the most respect for after her treatment of Bernie Sanders. My hatred of trump is based on trump. What he says, what he does, what he represents....I want nothing to do with it.
So if you really think all Clinton supporters merely "prefer" their candidate, please read some of the legit publications explaining either the allegations against your orange superhero re: child rape, or accounts of all the businesses he's destroyed.
He may be rich, but not by his own doing. He's rich because he was born into it and unless you too were born a multi-millionaire, he's not going to represent you. He doesn't care about you.
But yeah, let's just wait 40 years for all the shit to hit the fan. The ice caps are just about gone. Pollution worse than ever, and trump will strive to push that beyond where it is now. If it gets to the point where there is a Flint, Michigan situation in every state, he will not be affected, because he only cares about his interests, which are making money for his buddies, not helping you.
The weird thing is when this comes from people in interracial marriages. I just wonder if they've considered the fact that their spouses and children would be the objects of increasingly awful treatment under this regime.
But I guess if you're a Caucasian American who never went to a school in the inner cities or had to be in a place in your own country where your skin color was rare and considered a threat, you don't have to think of these things. You don't have to consider them, but you should.
Racism in Japan is different. It's usually a little side-eye occasionally, small children staring sometimes. Every once in a while, an old man might say "humph" in your direction.
The US is different. Very different. We get violent, especially when we think we have the power to do whatever we want.
And he did denounce the acts of violence, which is something I said might gain some respect, but I don't know that it has. Each of his cabinet appointments is worse than the last.
I am glad I don't live there anymore.
Here's the thing I find a lot of people on the other side of this seem to be lacking: tolerance isn't about me being better treated than you are. Feminism, by the way, is also a course for equal treatment, not special privilege when applied correctly. Tolerance means if your kid is going to school with a mostly Jewish population, they don't have to participate in the Hanukkah play. The same thing goes with any non-Christian kids at a mostly-Christian public school.
But if you watch the videos of white people melting down and screaming their candidate's name at people of other colors as if that were invoking the name of God against a demon, you should notice something important. These are not people who want to be treated equal to those around them. These are people asking for special treatment (i.e. cutting to the front of the Starbucks line) over all others. Why? Are they royalty? Nope. Special dignitaries? Nope. Olympic medalists? Nada.
Their major complaint seems to be rooted in the logic indicated by the statement, "...but I'm white."
Anyone who knew me well as a teen knows this story. There once was a car wash to raise money for a friend's sister's dance group or some such crap, and I went. most of the other car wash participants were tween-ish girls who stood around in bikinis mostly and boys with some Hispanic heritage and therefor an ability to tan. When one of the girls, the sister of my friend who happened to be half-Hispanic and tan-able, mentioned that she too was working hard, my brain constructed a great explanation of the fact that she would have a nice tan tomorrow, no pain or problems, where I already looked like a lobster and would be suffering from the effects of my lack of pigmentation for the better part of a week at best. What came out of my mouth?
"But I'm white."
Which sounded a lot more like I was trying to indicate a need for privilege over a need for better sunscreen, but my friends knew me well enough to catch my actual meaning.
So I have also said stupid shit that sounded racist. I've also said things that sounded transphobic. I've said lots of stupid things over the years but I'm not a celebrity and no one recorded most of these things, luckily enough for me.
But that doesn't excuse the insanely inflammatory shit spouted by the orange one over the course of his campaign and even after. He's not of or for the people. He is for himself, and it's sad that that is not a problem in the eyes of most people.
Thursday, December 8, 2016
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
Kindergarten Interview Day
We got up, showered and dressed in something of what may one day become a normal pattern. Julia even crashed early last night, so Tomo and I got to snuggle and look at stupid funny things on my laptop as we haven’t done since 2012.
This is after we went over the questionnaire we’ve had for weeks but Tomo never read to me or made a big deal about. I didn’t realize it was a self-assessment of eligibility to enter the kindergarten, and perhaps on some level it wasn’t. Tomo is sure it was, 100%, and we failed miserably because my daughter’s been learning English phonics and spelling and songs and having fun instead of being productive. She doesn’t always listen or know what she’s supposed to do and some stuff doesn’t work the way it should, but for my country and upbringing, this isn’t a big deal. She’s fine.
Keep in mind I never had an interview to get into a school and wasn’t really great at interviews for jobs either. I got to Japan for teaching experience. I got to teach for writing a book. I got to write a book for one features article in the TCU school paper and a willingness to conduct surveys and interpret the resulting data. I got into TCU with a worksheet they sent me in the mail.
I’ve never done anything like this, and we’ve already failed to properly prepare her because it never occurred to me that I was supposed to be training her for this, which is really my fault for being distracted. I’m surviving and she’s surviving and where I come from, that’s not bad. I forgot to tally that in with the whole Japanese moms making their kid the center of their universe and their only reason for existing. I’m not big on that, though she is the center of my universe. The thing is my value as a human is not equal to her impressiveness toward others. We’re okay, really. I just realized that I was shirking a societally preconceived responsibility that isn’t as innate in my culture.
Oh well. And I say that after spending a night crying and feeling like the least useful thing on the planet. In my dark moments, my laughter came from the realization that they should not expect more from a country that produced people who celebrate the election of a billionaire sociopath as a champion of the middle-class.
So we went to the school, played briefly and got called into the interview room, where Julia could name all the colors of all the things asked, only in English, and I should have pushed her to name the things and the colors in Japanese, but instead she got up and started exploring the room, and tried to roll on the floor when I tried to bring her back to the table.
The up-side? If we lost it today, we lost it based on Julia being a child and me not restricting her to such a degree that she could perform as a miniature adult. I think I can take that.
We went to get flu shots afterward, then McDonald’s. By the time we got home, Julia was asleep, so I tried to watch Brazil, which I hadn’t seen since I was an undergrad and won’t see for a bit longer. I was too exhausted and my post-lunch Julia snuggle turned into a full on nap. Tomo elected to watch Dragon Ball Z while the rest of us slept on the couch and eventually we all came together for a family snuggle.
For a fitting end to the day, we’re watching The Little Prince, as I’ve got Netflix this month and Tomo hasn’t seen it and I missed half of it on the Day of the Akebi.
We’re going to be okay.
This is after we went over the questionnaire we’ve had for weeks but Tomo never read to me or made a big deal about. I didn’t realize it was a self-assessment of eligibility to enter the kindergarten, and perhaps on some level it wasn’t. Tomo is sure it was, 100%, and we failed miserably because my daughter’s been learning English phonics and spelling and songs and having fun instead of being productive. She doesn’t always listen or know what she’s supposed to do and some stuff doesn’t work the way it should, but for my country and upbringing, this isn’t a big deal. She’s fine.
Keep in mind I never had an interview to get into a school and wasn’t really great at interviews for jobs either. I got to Japan for teaching experience. I got to teach for writing a book. I got to write a book for one features article in the TCU school paper and a willingness to conduct surveys and interpret the resulting data. I got into TCU with a worksheet they sent me in the mail.
I’ve never done anything like this, and we’ve already failed to properly prepare her because it never occurred to me that I was supposed to be training her for this, which is really my fault for being distracted. I’m surviving and she’s surviving and where I come from, that’s not bad. I forgot to tally that in with the whole Japanese moms making their kid the center of their universe and their only reason for existing. I’m not big on that, though she is the center of my universe. The thing is my value as a human is not equal to her impressiveness toward others. We’re okay, really. I just realized that I was shirking a societally preconceived responsibility that isn’t as innate in my culture.
Oh well. And I say that after spending a night crying and feeling like the least useful thing on the planet. In my dark moments, my laughter came from the realization that they should not expect more from a country that produced people who celebrate the election of a billionaire sociopath as a champion of the middle-class.
So we went to the school, played briefly and got called into the interview room, where Julia could name all the colors of all the things asked, only in English, and I should have pushed her to name the things and the colors in Japanese, but instead she got up and started exploring the room, and tried to roll on the floor when I tried to bring her back to the table.
The up-side? If we lost it today, we lost it based on Julia being a child and me not restricting her to such a degree that she could perform as a miniature adult. I think I can take that.
We went to get flu shots afterward, then McDonald’s. By the time we got home, Julia was asleep, so I tried to watch Brazil, which I hadn’t seen since I was an undergrad and won’t see for a bit longer. I was too exhausted and my post-lunch Julia snuggle turned into a full on nap. Tomo elected to watch Dragon Ball Z while the rest of us slept on the couch and eventually we all came together for a family snuggle.
For a fitting end to the day, we’re watching The Little Prince, as I’ve got Netflix this month and Tomo hasn’t seen it and I missed half of it on the Day of the Akebi.
We’re going to be okay.
Monday, November 14, 2016
Hard to Write? Keep Going!
This Nano really is the hardest ever for me.
It’s not just that 50,000 words is a quite a lot or that I’m exhausted with my 3-year-old, demanding far more attention than she did last year or the year before. That would have been hard, don’t get me wrong, and the first few days I saw how challenging just that part was.
And then the election happened.
And now, every time I set myself to the task, I start to feel less and less secure about the outcome. My brain fills with asinine and unhelpful commentary instead of prose. It’s like my own personal muse is suffering from untreated clinical depression and I’m stuck with a mopey fairy bringing down whatever little I can put into the book today.
I’ve included all my November blog posts in my word count, which is not what a professional writer would do, because a professional writer would have a lot of things I don’t, like time and the ability to focus. I’ve got so little energy that I was falling asleep while writing last night despite writing a scene I was interested in. Very much so. I had great ideas for the glimpse of this conversation I had seen in my mind’s eye and I started into it and woke up 3 lines later, most of what I had put down fairly unintelligible and lost to unconsciousness.
Just like earlier this year, I am giving myself a damned break. I need to just let it be okay. This is not the year that I complete all the things. This is the year that I do what I can and try to get something like a working draft of this story together before the end of nano. If that’s only 30,000 words, that’s fine. My other 20k will be non-fic blog-style, which just has to happen sometimes.
So if you find yourself questioning why you even bother putting words on the page this November, because there’s a lot of crazy reprehensible shit going on out there in the real world and your little idle book writing isn’t going to do any good to any one ever so why do you even try….
Remember JK. Remember that J.K Rowling was a single mom on welfare writing in a coffee shop. She had to have weak moments too, when she felt like maybe throwing in the towel and getting some stupid minimum wage kick might at least keep food on the table, and how could her meager little writing do any good for any one?
But it did. I dare say it saved the world. This series didn’t just create a wizarding world of imagination and delight, but also made clever, well-developed points about tolerance and loving your fellow humans, mudblood, muggle, or otherwise. The time and energy she put into creating, crafting and polishing the stories helped turn it into the success it had been, but without just sitting down and writing, it would only have been the weird thoughts of some impoverished woman in England.
If she could make it happen and if her books could change a generation, then your writing can mean something, even if only to you.
Honestly, in my critical self-analysis, I also realize that my tendency toward the first person when emotional now points to some great strides in my brain’s decisions to combat things head on, rather than internalizing them to a point where they can only be riddled out through great works of fiction. Might make me a significantly less awesome writer, but a lot happier person.
So if you’re feeling lost or stuck in your NaNoWriMo novel, or any other project you’re attempting this month that seems insurmountable, remember JK. Remember that what you choose to do with your time had value and meaning.
You have value and meaning.
Just in case you needed to hear that today.
It’s not just that 50,000 words is a quite a lot or that I’m exhausted with my 3-year-old, demanding far more attention than she did last year or the year before. That would have been hard, don’t get me wrong, and the first few days I saw how challenging just that part was.
And then the election happened.
And now, every time I set myself to the task, I start to feel less and less secure about the outcome. My brain fills with asinine and unhelpful commentary instead of prose. It’s like my own personal muse is suffering from untreated clinical depression and I’m stuck with a mopey fairy bringing down whatever little I can put into the book today.
I’ve included all my November blog posts in my word count, which is not what a professional writer would do, because a professional writer would have a lot of things I don’t, like time and the ability to focus. I’ve got so little energy that I was falling asleep while writing last night despite writing a scene I was interested in. Very much so. I had great ideas for the glimpse of this conversation I had seen in my mind’s eye and I started into it and woke up 3 lines later, most of what I had put down fairly unintelligible and lost to unconsciousness.
Just like earlier this year, I am giving myself a damned break. I need to just let it be okay. This is not the year that I complete all the things. This is the year that I do what I can and try to get something like a working draft of this story together before the end of nano. If that’s only 30,000 words, that’s fine. My other 20k will be non-fic blog-style, which just has to happen sometimes.
So if you find yourself questioning why you even bother putting words on the page this November, because there’s a lot of crazy reprehensible shit going on out there in the real world and your little idle book writing isn’t going to do any good to any one ever so why do you even try….
Remember JK. Remember that J.K Rowling was a single mom on welfare writing in a coffee shop. She had to have weak moments too, when she felt like maybe throwing in the towel and getting some stupid minimum wage kick might at least keep food on the table, and how could her meager little writing do any good for any one?
But it did. I dare say it saved the world. This series didn’t just create a wizarding world of imagination and delight, but also made clever, well-developed points about tolerance and loving your fellow humans, mudblood, muggle, or otherwise. The time and energy she put into creating, crafting and polishing the stories helped turn it into the success it had been, but without just sitting down and writing, it would only have been the weird thoughts of some impoverished woman in England.
If she could make it happen and if her books could change a generation, then your writing can mean something, even if only to you.
Honestly, in my critical self-analysis, I also realize that my tendency toward the first person when emotional now points to some great strides in my brain’s decisions to combat things head on, rather than internalizing them to a point where they can only be riddled out through great works of fiction. Might make me a significantly less awesome writer, but a lot happier person.
So if you’re feeling lost or stuck in your NaNoWriMo novel, or any other project you’re attempting this month that seems insurmountable, remember JK. Remember that what you choose to do with your time had value and meaning.
You have value and meaning.
Just in case you needed to hear that today.
Friday, November 11, 2016
Walking Away from the Fighting
After writing my last post, I felt the need to share it with one of the young conservative republicans who had posted the previous pleas that caused the piece to be written in the first place. Her husband, who I have never met, apparently chose to respond, and this was for me, due to time difference, just as I was getting ready to go teach an evening class, which meant getting my daughter ready, too. I didn’t have evergy. When I got back, I didn’t have the energy so I stopped and unfollowed the post. It’s not like I posted an essay-length commentary onm her comments section. I linked to my blog post and explained that that was my response. Others could choose to go over there and read it or not. Apparently some chose to, and while I do believe in civil discourse, there are requirements of such, including time, energy, compassion, and an adversary with an equal amount of each. I had no energy left to deal with whatever the conservative Christian republicans who generally only talk to like-minded individuals had to say on the subject. I lacked the energy and compassion. I still don’t know what was said and don’t really want to.
The next morning, I saw that my cousin, the one who posted the original “Don’t hate me for being Republican” post, had chosen to chime in. Facebook and gmail now sometime show you the first line of a longer message or comment so you can know what’s going on before you click, right? Well I saw the first line, even though I unfollowed this post, and it was something like “Are you liberal or do you just not get it?” which to me sounded a lot like “Are you exactly like me or some kind of moron?” which may not even be what she meant.
Again, if I can’t engage with compassion, I’d rather not engage. I don’t have the patience for this and raising a 3 year old. I unfollowed the cousin. I will not go back to that page, not to read their comments nor delete my own. I feel like an inadvertent troll, inciting them to whatever that crap was and walking away, but I didn’t do it for entertainment. I was trying to explain the alternative side so that maybe we could all figure stuff out together, and maybe that is what they are doing, too. I hope it is and that this is me being overly cautious with my energy expenditure. If it is, I am sorry to them and all the people I could have helped by staying in that loop and having a civil discussion of the merits of….whatever is supposed to have merit there.
But I haven’t seen a lot of rational people showing their love for this man. I’m not willing to jump in the deep end and hope the great white leaves me alone. I’d rather just stay in my distant pond, with the fishes I can swim with.
Maybe on some level I did them a favor by giving them a liberal to yell at, a voice to overpower with whatever it is they threw in my general direction. And maybe I am letting my side down by not responding, but I need to take care of myself right now, especially emotionally. I need to be able to be non-psycho with my kid, and I'm not 100% when I burn up all my patience trying to explain something that seems obvious and empathetic to me to people who have never heard of such a thing and meet my pleas for thoughtful discourse with righteous indignation.
How this sounds in my head: Stupid Liberal! How Dare You Ask Me To Think of Minorities Like They Are People! They Are Not My Equals! Only My Church Friends Are My Equals!
(This might be unfair, but it follows the rhetoric provided.)
Anyway, an hour after I unfollowed my cousin, I skyped my grandmother (a regularly scheduled occurrence) and since she too had supported Bernie Sanders, I chose to mention the election. Big mistake. It was a passionate monologue with the following summary: It doesn’t matter who’s in the office. They were equally bad. I hated her more. Repeal Obamacare. I didn't vote anyway.
I had little to say to this, as it was time to call my father. A lot of white folks feel this way, though. That it doesn't matter because they both sucked, but that doesn't cover how much truly hateful stuff that guy said during his campaign. Do you remember any other presidential candidate ever suggesting his followers commit violence against those who do not agree? Not even Bush. Not even Nixon. Not anyone I’ve heard of or seen footage of, to my knowledge. The leaders who say things like that are people like Hitler. They say, “Let’s get violent against those who are different,” and some people love them for it and that is why this is dangerous.
What we need now is for Trump to stand up and tell ALL of his constituents to stop the violence and hatred. That would earn him some of my respect. If he tells his most violent friends to stop hurting anyone, that you cannot and should not hurt people with words or worse for something as basic as the color of their skin or their religion or sexual orientation or gender or lack of any of the above….If he could just get that violence to stop….
They might not listen. They might revolt. But he’d get a little of my respect.
I wonder if that is worth it to him.
The next morning, I saw that my cousin, the one who posted the original “Don’t hate me for being Republican” post, had chosen to chime in. Facebook and gmail now sometime show you the first line of a longer message or comment so you can know what’s going on before you click, right? Well I saw the first line, even though I unfollowed this post, and it was something like “Are you liberal or do you just not get it?” which to me sounded a lot like “Are you exactly like me or some kind of moron?” which may not even be what she meant.
Again, if I can’t engage with compassion, I’d rather not engage. I don’t have the patience for this and raising a 3 year old. I unfollowed the cousin. I will not go back to that page, not to read their comments nor delete my own. I feel like an inadvertent troll, inciting them to whatever that crap was and walking away, but I didn’t do it for entertainment. I was trying to explain the alternative side so that maybe we could all figure stuff out together, and maybe that is what they are doing, too. I hope it is and that this is me being overly cautious with my energy expenditure. If it is, I am sorry to them and all the people I could have helped by staying in that loop and having a civil discussion of the merits of….whatever is supposed to have merit there.
But I haven’t seen a lot of rational people showing their love for this man. I’m not willing to jump in the deep end and hope the great white leaves me alone. I’d rather just stay in my distant pond, with the fishes I can swim with.
Maybe on some level I did them a favor by giving them a liberal to yell at, a voice to overpower with whatever it is they threw in my general direction. And maybe I am letting my side down by not responding, but I need to take care of myself right now, especially emotionally. I need to be able to be non-psycho with my kid, and I'm not 100% when I burn up all my patience trying to explain something that seems obvious and empathetic to me to people who have never heard of such a thing and meet my pleas for thoughtful discourse with righteous indignation.
How this sounds in my head: Stupid Liberal! How Dare You Ask Me To Think of Minorities Like They Are People! They Are Not My Equals! Only My Church Friends Are My Equals!
(This might be unfair, but it follows the rhetoric provided.)
Anyway, an hour after I unfollowed my cousin, I skyped my grandmother (a regularly scheduled occurrence) and since she too had supported Bernie Sanders, I chose to mention the election. Big mistake. It was a passionate monologue with the following summary: It doesn’t matter who’s in the office. They were equally bad. I hated her more. Repeal Obamacare. I didn't vote anyway.
I had little to say to this, as it was time to call my father. A lot of white folks feel this way, though. That it doesn't matter because they both sucked, but that doesn't cover how much truly hateful stuff that guy said during his campaign. Do you remember any other presidential candidate ever suggesting his followers commit violence against those who do not agree? Not even Bush. Not even Nixon. Not anyone I’ve heard of or seen footage of, to my knowledge. The leaders who say things like that are people like Hitler. They say, “Let’s get violent against those who are different,” and some people love them for it and that is why this is dangerous.
What we need now is for Trump to stand up and tell ALL of his constituents to stop the violence and hatred. That would earn him some of my respect. If he tells his most violent friends to stop hurting anyone, that you cannot and should not hurt people with words or worse for something as basic as the color of their skin or their religion or sexual orientation or gender or lack of any of the above….If he could just get that violence to stop….
They might not listen. They might revolt. But he’d get a little of my respect.
I wonder if that is worth it to him.
He did do something surprising regarding transphobia and bathrooms this week, so who knows? It is unlikely that I will ever like him, but maybe he could show the world that he is a human being, not a violent, hateful object at the center of a cult of personality.
I want to see that. I really do.
Thursday, November 10, 2016
It's Not That Simple, Young Reps
This morning, I role-played trying to explain my political opinions in Japanese so that when my in-laws pick up my daughter later and drive me to work, I’ll have something prepared. I’m willing to bet that they are curious about my stance. Add to this that my father-in-law is fairly conservative and my mother-in-law fairly liberal and I know there’s a bit of explaining to do.
I’m liberal. For my home state, extremely so. We’ve never discussed politics before. The grace of a language barrier.
So what I came up with, to explain in basic terms, translates back to English as, “He is a monster. He only speaks hate. The only people he likes are white Christians. This is not my America.”
And then I burst into tears.
I haven’t cried for this fresh hell of an election, mostly because my three-year-old keeps distracting me. She smiles and tells me something silly with a hug and a kiss and I feel like maybe the world isn’t all bad. Later I remember my friends and loved ones of different races and creeds. I remember my friends having babies who will not be just white and may not be insured, and I worry. A lot.
Two days ago, my decisions of the last decade were tested and for the first time in that 8 years since I left the states, I felt that following my intuition to live out here and keep on doing so was right. The progression and time-line of my relationship with my husband make sense. Even when we chose to have my daughter makes sense. These were mostly fantastic decisions I’ve decided, because I cannot fully regret them now.
Japan is sexist and racist and xenophobic (not entirely unlike the South), but at least they are usually quiet about it.
This morning, I lay in bed, warm under the covers with my toddler, reading up on Facebook. A lot of my friends are taking a break, for good reason. Some are fighting. Some are resigned.
While perusing the articles, this is what I came across:
2 different young republican posts pleading to not be demonized for how they voted
2 different posts from Asian Americans being chased and/or beaten by groups of Trump supporters.
(what better way to celebrate a win than a hate crime!)
1 Fantastic post from an Evangelical (and anti-Trump) friend, asking how to help those in need
There were also a handful of hate-crime related posts from all around the country and a couple of good sharings of positive information including suicide prevention line phone numbers (which I shared as well).
In one of the young republican posts, the writer suggests that they are pro-choice but would prefer it if that choice were only used for life-saving situations. Voting for politicians who want to overturn Roe V Wade isn’t a vote for accessibility for those who need it. It’s a vote against anyone ever getting a safe abortion. Honestly, it’s a vote for incest, child rape and murder, if you ask me. But no one asked me. I’m a liberal, that’s why.
Liberals in most of my home state are seen as bleeding-heart weirdoes with weird ideas like trying to save things that middle-ish class white America prefers to shit on: people of color, LGBT folks, anything not exactly like us. I am liberal because I want to protect people, even those who I have little in common with, from unprovoked assault.
These hate crimes that are occurring in schools and public places? They’re not being provoked. An Asian American man in Dallas isn’t walking up to a bunch of white guys in Trump-wear shouting obscenities, but he is running for his car and high-tailing it out of there, fearing for his life because the country he was born and raised in also created these hateful bastards, so scared of any difference that they feel they must attack to defend the white-ness.
One needn’t defend the white-ness. It’s pretty fucking defended. White women in America aren’t having cross-laden necklaces ripped from their necks as people tell them to go back to Europe. This is not happening. But people are pulling off women’s hijabs and suggesting they flee and/or kill themselves. If you don’t see these things as similar, you’ve got way too much privilege and way too little empathy.
So, young republican Trump supporters, this is why I posted early this week on Facebook that I don’t want to talk to you about Trump. It’s not because I disagree with your choice of candidate only because they are not from my party. The hate that Trump speaks has power and meaning, and if you’re lucky enough to be Caucasian, cis-gender, and straight you may not have to feel the pangs of it, at least not yet. You may not realize what is going on for some time, as it isn’t attacking your religion, sexual orientation, or quality of life.
I was never a Bush fan. Again, I’m liberal. During the Bush campaign, while I was in high school, I remember having a number of debates with a close friend who was a staunch conservative. She had points. She had reasons why his policies made sense to her and actual thought-provoking things to say on the subject. I’m not generally happy to have these kinds of discussions, but she was well informed and could back up what she was saying. No name calling. No stupid crap.
She is, by the way, not a Trump fan.
I have yet to see (nor seek out, admittedly) any good pro-Trump arguments, nor any so good as to offset the hate he spews so freely. His being A-Ok with the KKK cannot be outweighed by him not being a Clinton. His anti-Muslim rhetoric (which should remind you of Hitler if you paid any attention in modern world history class) does not outweigh him not being a classical trained politician. People seem to think that his lack of political understanding frees him from being a corrupt official— that he hasn’t had the chance to be bought and paid for. Good idea, except he’s already corrupt in so many other ways, like being on trial for fraud next month, in addition to child-rape and a number of other truly awful things.
You see, I don’t even get it for Christians. I don’t get how a woman in a pantsuit (breaking a rule from Deuteronomy, oh no!) is worse for the country than a man who had broken so many COMMANDMENTS. (mainly 7-10)
I just don’t get it, and I know, you few ultra-conservative friends and relations, maybe you don’t get it either. Because to you she’d not just a woman in a pantsuit— she’s an embodiment of evil. She want to make sure people can get abortions or any other kind of health care they need. Yes, that means some people pay more and some less. No, this does not benefit the wealthy. It benefits those who need help over those who are in a position to help themselves.
Do I agree with everything she or Obama have said or done? No. Not by a long shot. But Obama’s election didn’t cause this hate and fear; the widespread terror the way this one has. It didn’t cause groups of proud black men to accost and beat up white strangers shouting “Hail Obama!”
Nope. It didn’t. It really didn’t.
It didn’t cause Muslim Americans to protest the building of Christian Churches. That didn’t happen.
If you can put yourself in someone else’s shoes for a minute, and think of all things as supposedly equal, you might see why this doesn’t work. According to the constitution, this is not a Christian nation. America has no state religion for a reason— because the people who founded it didn’t want the Church of England quashing alternative religious choices in their day to be something their new country would do. If you put down the bible for a minute and imagine that, in the eyes of the American justice system, there is nothing wrong with being Muslim, or atheist, or anything else, because America isn’t supposed to care who you worship on Sundays or whenever. Got it? America isn’t supposed to favor one religion over the others. That’s one of the most beautiful things about the country. Instead of playing the petulant children and only saying “No church of England! They made the Puritans leave. Jerks!” they looked to the root of the problem. State religion is a very bad thing, partially because it keeps us from seeing each other as equal. In the eyes of the law, your church affiliation should be less important than your tax-payer status.
Have you, Christians, been made to feel unwelcome in your own communities just for how you celebrate your religion? Others not celebrating as you do doesn’t count.
Have you, straight people, felt endangered by the election? Has anyone offered to cleanse you of your straightness through prayer and electroshock? Even if you believe that homosexuality (or any non hetero thing) is sinful, isn’t that between the sinner and God? Not you? At all?
Have you, cis-gendered folks, felt like you were going to have to back-track through every gain you have made in your life to help become the adult you want to be, only to serve religious ideology that you don’t follow? Has someone made you be something that you, at your core, simply are not? That’s what it feels like for these people. Even if you think it’s an unnatural sin, this is what they feel and their feelings are valid.
There are more points to be made, too many I think, but I’ve got to move on. My reason for telling my friends list to shut up or ship off with the Trump crap was made necessary by a boy I once knew, too long ago, who felt the only right thing to do when I posted my comment regarding Trump as a Rapist (many allegations and lawsuits pending) was to claim the same of Bill Clinton (1 early sexual harassment suit and a consensual sex act from an intern), for which I find no evidence. The claims against Trump outweigh the claims against Bill Clinton by a small landslide. I told him so. He disagreed, again using the same debate tactics his candidate is famous for, which offer little fact or proof of anything.
Tired of the shouting match and frustrated with being so riled up by someone who isn’t even using logic against me, I deleted the thread, blocked the boy, and posted what I did. Not because I’m a bigot who can’t stand not getting her way, but because I really don’t think the well-meaning Trump supporters have a full grasp of the damage their candidate is likely to do over the next four years. He’s not even inaugurated yet— it’s been less than a week since the election— and hate crimes as well as teen suicides are through the roof.
At least, if my news feed is to be believed.
My point in this long, rambling, tear-filled pain-blossom is this: It’s not like it was with Bush. It’s much, much worse. It’s not as simple as shaking hands after a disagreement. It’s half of America saying the only people who deserve human rights are white, Christian, cis-gendered, and straight, though also probably male.
Obama didn’t tell you that you could not be Christian and American. Trump has indicated as much about Muslims. If you fall into all the positive pro-trump categories, it’s likely you haven’t felt as scared as everyone else is right now. The people on whom society already bestows much power were just granted free reign, and many are taking that as leave to abuse any other human who does not fit into their idea of what the world should look like. Even if you’re not perpetuating hate crimes, if you voted for Trump, you helped elect the guy who is telling them publicly that it is okay to be violent against people with different opinions; that facts don’t matter; that those who are different than you are lesser than.
That’s why it’s not as simple as liberal and conservative or democrat and republican. Your candidate is saying it is okay to hurt people. Show me where Obama said anything similar. Show me where Hillary suggested physical harm upon dissenters at her rallies.
Show me proof.
Please.
Until then, the sides are not equal. The man speaks of violent acts, condones them even. I haven’t seen others do this, even other conservatives. Show me how that does not have any effect on the increase in hate crimes against Muslims, people of color, LGBTQA, etc.
Show me the proof.
Or just don’t talk to me.
Have it your way.
I’m liberal. For my home state, extremely so. We’ve never discussed politics before. The grace of a language barrier.
So what I came up with, to explain in basic terms, translates back to English as, “He is a monster. He only speaks hate. The only people he likes are white Christians. This is not my America.”
And then I burst into tears.
I haven’t cried for this fresh hell of an election, mostly because my three-year-old keeps distracting me. She smiles and tells me something silly with a hug and a kiss and I feel like maybe the world isn’t all bad. Later I remember my friends and loved ones of different races and creeds. I remember my friends having babies who will not be just white and may not be insured, and I worry. A lot.
Two days ago, my decisions of the last decade were tested and for the first time in that 8 years since I left the states, I felt that following my intuition to live out here and keep on doing so was right. The progression and time-line of my relationship with my husband make sense. Even when we chose to have my daughter makes sense. These were mostly fantastic decisions I’ve decided, because I cannot fully regret them now.
Japan is sexist and racist and xenophobic (not entirely unlike the South), but at least they are usually quiet about it.
This morning, I lay in bed, warm under the covers with my toddler, reading up on Facebook. A lot of my friends are taking a break, for good reason. Some are fighting. Some are resigned.
While perusing the articles, this is what I came across:
2 different young republican posts pleading to not be demonized for how they voted
2 different posts from Asian Americans being chased and/or beaten by groups of Trump supporters.
(what better way to celebrate a win than a hate crime!)
1 Fantastic post from an Evangelical (and anti-Trump) friend, asking how to help those in need
There were also a handful of hate-crime related posts from all around the country and a couple of good sharings of positive information including suicide prevention line phone numbers (which I shared as well).
In one of the young republican posts, the writer suggests that they are pro-choice but would prefer it if that choice were only used for life-saving situations. Voting for politicians who want to overturn Roe V Wade isn’t a vote for accessibility for those who need it. It’s a vote against anyone ever getting a safe abortion. Honestly, it’s a vote for incest, child rape and murder, if you ask me. But no one asked me. I’m a liberal, that’s why.
Liberals in most of my home state are seen as bleeding-heart weirdoes with weird ideas like trying to save things that middle-ish class white America prefers to shit on: people of color, LGBT folks, anything not exactly like us. I am liberal because I want to protect people, even those who I have little in common with, from unprovoked assault.
These hate crimes that are occurring in schools and public places? They’re not being provoked. An Asian American man in Dallas isn’t walking up to a bunch of white guys in Trump-wear shouting obscenities, but he is running for his car and high-tailing it out of there, fearing for his life because the country he was born and raised in also created these hateful bastards, so scared of any difference that they feel they must attack to defend the white-ness.
One needn’t defend the white-ness. It’s pretty fucking defended. White women in America aren’t having cross-laden necklaces ripped from their necks as people tell them to go back to Europe. This is not happening. But people are pulling off women’s hijabs and suggesting they flee and/or kill themselves. If you don’t see these things as similar, you’ve got way too much privilege and way too little empathy.
So, young republican Trump supporters, this is why I posted early this week on Facebook that I don’t want to talk to you about Trump. It’s not because I disagree with your choice of candidate only because they are not from my party. The hate that Trump speaks has power and meaning, and if you’re lucky enough to be Caucasian, cis-gender, and straight you may not have to feel the pangs of it, at least not yet. You may not realize what is going on for some time, as it isn’t attacking your religion, sexual orientation, or quality of life.
I was never a Bush fan. Again, I’m liberal. During the Bush campaign, while I was in high school, I remember having a number of debates with a close friend who was a staunch conservative. She had points. She had reasons why his policies made sense to her and actual thought-provoking things to say on the subject. I’m not generally happy to have these kinds of discussions, but she was well informed and could back up what she was saying. No name calling. No stupid crap.
She is, by the way, not a Trump fan.
I have yet to see (nor seek out, admittedly) any good pro-Trump arguments, nor any so good as to offset the hate he spews so freely. His being A-Ok with the KKK cannot be outweighed by him not being a Clinton. His anti-Muslim rhetoric (which should remind you of Hitler if you paid any attention in modern world history class) does not outweigh him not being a classical trained politician. People seem to think that his lack of political understanding frees him from being a corrupt official— that he hasn’t had the chance to be bought and paid for. Good idea, except he’s already corrupt in so many other ways, like being on trial for fraud next month, in addition to child-rape and a number of other truly awful things.
You see, I don’t even get it for Christians. I don’t get how a woman in a pantsuit (breaking a rule from Deuteronomy, oh no!) is worse for the country than a man who had broken so many COMMANDMENTS. (mainly 7-10)
I just don’t get it, and I know, you few ultra-conservative friends and relations, maybe you don’t get it either. Because to you she’d not just a woman in a pantsuit— she’s an embodiment of evil. She want to make sure people can get abortions or any other kind of health care they need. Yes, that means some people pay more and some less. No, this does not benefit the wealthy. It benefits those who need help over those who are in a position to help themselves.
Do I agree with everything she or Obama have said or done? No. Not by a long shot. But Obama’s election didn’t cause this hate and fear; the widespread terror the way this one has. It didn’t cause groups of proud black men to accost and beat up white strangers shouting “Hail Obama!”
Nope. It didn’t. It really didn’t.
It didn’t cause Muslim Americans to protest the building of Christian Churches. That didn’t happen.
If you can put yourself in someone else’s shoes for a minute, and think of all things as supposedly equal, you might see why this doesn’t work. According to the constitution, this is not a Christian nation. America has no state religion for a reason— because the people who founded it didn’t want the Church of England quashing alternative religious choices in their day to be something their new country would do. If you put down the bible for a minute and imagine that, in the eyes of the American justice system, there is nothing wrong with being Muslim, or atheist, or anything else, because America isn’t supposed to care who you worship on Sundays or whenever. Got it? America isn’t supposed to favor one religion over the others. That’s one of the most beautiful things about the country. Instead of playing the petulant children and only saying “No church of England! They made the Puritans leave. Jerks!” they looked to the root of the problem. State religion is a very bad thing, partially because it keeps us from seeing each other as equal. In the eyes of the law, your church affiliation should be less important than your tax-payer status.
Have you, Christians, been made to feel unwelcome in your own communities just for how you celebrate your religion? Others not celebrating as you do doesn’t count.
Have you, straight people, felt endangered by the election? Has anyone offered to cleanse you of your straightness through prayer and electroshock? Even if you believe that homosexuality (or any non hetero thing) is sinful, isn’t that between the sinner and God? Not you? At all?
Have you, cis-gendered folks, felt like you were going to have to back-track through every gain you have made in your life to help become the adult you want to be, only to serve religious ideology that you don’t follow? Has someone made you be something that you, at your core, simply are not? That’s what it feels like for these people. Even if you think it’s an unnatural sin, this is what they feel and their feelings are valid.
There are more points to be made, too many I think, but I’ve got to move on. My reason for telling my friends list to shut up or ship off with the Trump crap was made necessary by a boy I once knew, too long ago, who felt the only right thing to do when I posted my comment regarding Trump as a Rapist (many allegations and lawsuits pending) was to claim the same of Bill Clinton (1 early sexual harassment suit and a consensual sex act from an intern), for which I find no evidence. The claims against Trump outweigh the claims against Bill Clinton by a small landslide. I told him so. He disagreed, again using the same debate tactics his candidate is famous for, which offer little fact or proof of anything.
Tired of the shouting match and frustrated with being so riled up by someone who isn’t even using logic against me, I deleted the thread, blocked the boy, and posted what I did. Not because I’m a bigot who can’t stand not getting her way, but because I really don’t think the well-meaning Trump supporters have a full grasp of the damage their candidate is likely to do over the next four years. He’s not even inaugurated yet— it’s been less than a week since the election— and hate crimes as well as teen suicides are through the roof.
At least, if my news feed is to be believed.
My point in this long, rambling, tear-filled pain-blossom is this: It’s not like it was with Bush. It’s much, much worse. It’s not as simple as shaking hands after a disagreement. It’s half of America saying the only people who deserve human rights are white, Christian, cis-gendered, and straight, though also probably male.
Obama didn’t tell you that you could not be Christian and American. Trump has indicated as much about Muslims. If you fall into all the positive pro-trump categories, it’s likely you haven’t felt as scared as everyone else is right now. The people on whom society already bestows much power were just granted free reign, and many are taking that as leave to abuse any other human who does not fit into their idea of what the world should look like. Even if you’re not perpetuating hate crimes, if you voted for Trump, you helped elect the guy who is telling them publicly that it is okay to be violent against people with different opinions; that facts don’t matter; that those who are different than you are lesser than.
That’s why it’s not as simple as liberal and conservative or democrat and republican. Your candidate is saying it is okay to hurt people. Show me where Obama said anything similar. Show me where Hillary suggested physical harm upon dissenters at her rallies.
Show me proof.
Please.
Until then, the sides are not equal. The man speaks of violent acts, condones them even. I haven’t seen others do this, even other conservatives. Show me how that does not have any effect on the increase in hate crimes against Muslims, people of color, LGBTQA, etc.
Show me the proof.
Or just don’t talk to me.
Have it your way.
Wednesday, November 9, 2016
Surviving Trump-erica
So the results are in. I have a longer post planned, explaining why this would have been quite shocking to me a few years ago, but is now kind of normal. America’s a lot more racist, misogynist, and stupid than I like to remember. That’s for later.
For now, let’s focus on what we can do. Not just drinking all the wine and angry crying about what the next four years have in store for us. More.
A lot of people are reminded of Hitler’s rise to power and for good reason. Trump sounds a lot like Hitler. Very xenophobic and focused on return his country to a previous state of greatness that many even now are still trying to identify. And the people who follow him are more into his cult of personality than actually analyzing any other part of his plans. “Something great” is not a plan. It’s an excuse to sell out the people stupid enough to elect you to the highest bidder.
I am more so reminded of The Great Proletariat Cultural Revolution of 1960s China, in which Mao believed that Western learning and thinking were undermining communism, so the country became divided between Red and Expert. Being well educated, especially educated abroad, was unpatriotic. Doing such could get you killed or sent to a re-education facility where you did hard labor until you understood that your intelligence was worth nothing. You were a communist now. Only communism mattered. Universities and other schools were closed. For years. Ancient cultural artifacts were destroyed. Anything old of foreign was cast out, burned, hacked, or otherwise destroyed.
What I remember from this section of modern Chinese history class was that the people divided themselves into bands and fought it out for who was the better follower of the word of Mao, and Mao ate it up.
This is after the Great Leap Foward, where Mao decided that they could make steel out of household metals and had whole communities rounding up all the metal in town to smelt and smelting it poorly. Rampant corruption and high quotas meant inflated figures on how much usable steel was being made. In the end, the steel was shit and at least 15 million people starved to death (scholars think it closer to twice that) because the farmers were busy creating mostly worthless steel instead of farming. Read more here.
I have a feeling that’s what we’re looking at here, because it’s not just about a few more people supporting one guy over the other. It’s about more than half of the country thoroughly believing in Trump despite all evidence that his list of sins include things like child rape. Many only believe with the capital B, the way they believe in God, which means there’s no critical analysis of the person, their qualities or their abilities.
It’s going to be a dark few years here. It will be unpopular to be accepting or loving of differences. It will be unpopular to be anything other than a straight, cis-gendered, white, Christian misogynist male.
So, if you are not all of those things or not all of those things and an asshole, I beg you to be different. Be like the guy in the famous picture of the Hitler speech, standing in the crowd, arms folded, not accepting the hatred and bullshit. Be the people who fought for their Jewish countrymen during the Holocaust. Do that now, for our Muslim friends and neighbors. For the refugees who just want a chance to live. For the people who grew up beside you with their only difference being the color of their skin. For anyone LGBTQA. For anyone.
If you see someone getting hassled for being different, help them. Stand up for them. Use whatever you can to help protect them. Don’t antagonize and provoke, but help. As much as you can, help.
I foresee this being a dark time for intellectuals, for differences, for ideas. I really think the next few years are going to be horrible, but do what you can to help who you can. Speak out. Let your hardships be known if any help can be granted.
Help yourselves and each other.
Be the change.
Don’t let the bastards get you.
Fight for Standing Rock.
My last 2 thoughts on the subject for today:
1) I’ve never been so happy to be raising a child abroad.
2) This would happen the year David Bowie (and so many talented others) died.
For now, let’s focus on what we can do. Not just drinking all the wine and angry crying about what the next four years have in store for us. More.
A lot of people are reminded of Hitler’s rise to power and for good reason. Trump sounds a lot like Hitler. Very xenophobic and focused on return his country to a previous state of greatness that many even now are still trying to identify. And the people who follow him are more into his cult of personality than actually analyzing any other part of his plans. “Something great” is not a plan. It’s an excuse to sell out the people stupid enough to elect you to the highest bidder.
I am more so reminded of The Great Proletariat Cultural Revolution of 1960s China, in which Mao believed that Western learning and thinking were undermining communism, so the country became divided between Red and Expert. Being well educated, especially educated abroad, was unpatriotic. Doing such could get you killed or sent to a re-education facility where you did hard labor until you understood that your intelligence was worth nothing. You were a communist now. Only communism mattered. Universities and other schools were closed. For years. Ancient cultural artifacts were destroyed. Anything old of foreign was cast out, burned, hacked, or otherwise destroyed.
What I remember from this section of modern Chinese history class was that the people divided themselves into bands and fought it out for who was the better follower of the word of Mao, and Mao ate it up.
This is after the Great Leap Foward, where Mao decided that they could make steel out of household metals and had whole communities rounding up all the metal in town to smelt and smelting it poorly. Rampant corruption and high quotas meant inflated figures on how much usable steel was being made. In the end, the steel was shit and at least 15 million people starved to death (scholars think it closer to twice that) because the farmers were busy creating mostly worthless steel instead of farming. Read more here.
I have a feeling that’s what we’re looking at here, because it’s not just about a few more people supporting one guy over the other. It’s about more than half of the country thoroughly believing in Trump despite all evidence that his list of sins include things like child rape. Many only believe with the capital B, the way they believe in God, which means there’s no critical analysis of the person, their qualities or their abilities.
It’s going to be a dark few years here. It will be unpopular to be accepting or loving of differences. It will be unpopular to be anything other than a straight, cis-gendered, white, Christian misogynist male.
So, if you are not all of those things or not all of those things and an asshole, I beg you to be different. Be like the guy in the famous picture of the Hitler speech, standing in the crowd, arms folded, not accepting the hatred and bullshit. Be the people who fought for their Jewish countrymen during the Holocaust. Do that now, for our Muslim friends and neighbors. For the refugees who just want a chance to live. For the people who grew up beside you with their only difference being the color of their skin. For anyone LGBTQA. For anyone.
If you see someone getting hassled for being different, help them. Stand up for them. Use whatever you can to help protect them. Don’t antagonize and provoke, but help. As much as you can, help.
I foresee this being a dark time for intellectuals, for differences, for ideas. I really think the next few years are going to be horrible, but do what you can to help who you can. Speak out. Let your hardships be known if any help can be granted.
Help yourselves and each other.
Be the change.
Don’t let the bastards get you.
Fight for Standing Rock.
My last 2 thoughts on the subject for today:
1) I’ve never been so happy to be raising a child abroad.
2) This would happen the year David Bowie (and so many talented others) died.
Tuesday, November 8, 2016
Election Time
As I write this, it is Wednesday the ninth of November, and the presidential election results are coming in slowly. I get annoyed when started are declared and tallied with less than 50% of the data reported, but in the election, I feel very strongly that my opinion just does not matter.
I am a liberal Democrat from Texas, just like my mom. Or at least I used to be. I was a die-hard Berner and I still have reservations about how Hillary got the nomination. That said, I still voted for her.
A vote for Hillary is a vote for the status quo. The same level of corrupt political bullshit you're used to, now in female form and still at least trying to keep things running.
A vote for Trump is a vote for the apocalypse. A child rapist who would never have even become famous except for being born into a rich family and squandering millions upon millions lavishly and not well does not need to be in charge of the country.
He behaves like a toddler having a tantrum. He has all the manners and respect of an uncivilized 5 year old. And he rapes 13 year olds. Rapes them. His trial is next month.
Amanda Palmer recently wrote a tweet stating that the man should be pitied and while I admire her level of empathy, I cannot follow suit. I cannot pity a rapist. I cannot have sympathy or empathy for a child rapist. This is not a person worthy of out time, much less our vote. Yet billions are voting for him.
On the up side, in the economic ruin following a trump presidency, my student loans will likely have significantly less overall value.
The only problem is a lot of global economies are tied into America not being an impoverished wasteland, but electing a man who declares bankruptcy so often to the highest office in the land is not going to lead us in any other direction. This is what I truly believe.
I don’t want to see this happen. There are too many people I still love and care about in the country of my birth. I have never in my lifetime been more ashamed of being a Southerner due to a current political event.
At the same time, despite all the weirdness of Japan, I am more happy than ever to be on the other side of the world from whatever political upheaval may follow.
So if you’re looking to escape to Japan, look me up and ask me about it. I did it before it was cool. Hah. Yeah, not really. I did it after it was hugely financially positive, but before it was necessary to avoid getting shot.
Stay peaceful, people. Stay alive.
I am a liberal Democrat from Texas, just like my mom. Or at least I used to be. I was a die-hard Berner and I still have reservations about how Hillary got the nomination. That said, I still voted for her.
A vote for Hillary is a vote for the status quo. The same level of corrupt political bullshit you're used to, now in female form and still at least trying to keep things running.
A vote for Trump is a vote for the apocalypse. A child rapist who would never have even become famous except for being born into a rich family and squandering millions upon millions lavishly and not well does not need to be in charge of the country.
He behaves like a toddler having a tantrum. He has all the manners and respect of an uncivilized 5 year old. And he rapes 13 year olds. Rapes them. His trial is next month.
Amanda Palmer recently wrote a tweet stating that the man should be pitied and while I admire her level of empathy, I cannot follow suit. I cannot pity a rapist. I cannot have sympathy or empathy for a child rapist. This is not a person worthy of out time, much less our vote. Yet billions are voting for him.
On the up side, in the economic ruin following a trump presidency, my student loans will likely have significantly less overall value.
The only problem is a lot of global economies are tied into America not being an impoverished wasteland, but electing a man who declares bankruptcy so often to the highest office in the land is not going to lead us in any other direction. This is what I truly believe.
I don’t want to see this happen. There are too many people I still love and care about in the country of my birth. I have never in my lifetime been more ashamed of being a Southerner due to a current political event.
At the same time, despite all the weirdness of Japan, I am more happy than ever to be on the other side of the world from whatever political upheaval may follow.
So if you’re looking to escape to Japan, look me up and ask me about it. I did it before it was cool. Hah. Yeah, not really. I did it after it was hugely financially positive, but before it was necessary to avoid getting shot.
Stay peaceful, people. Stay alive.
Sunday, November 6, 2016
Blue Monday
Today was not my best day.
On 5 hours of sleep, I woke up and chatted with my mom before running Julia across town to music class, where she spent the last half of the time period running away from me. The saddest part was that she would do the dances well standing across the room from me, the same ones she refused to do when I was near her.
Yeah, it's about time for Kindergarten.
For some reason, with only 4 kids including Julia in a class that used to be at least double that size, I started thinking that maybe they had all quit because of us-- because my style of parenting doesn't lend itself well in this country and that I have no idea how the parents of the other kids get them to sit there patiently and calmly when mine is wild, even when disciplined-- and then I felt guilty and ashamed and like maybe every single thing I do here is wrong and maybe I don't know how to get it right and maybe it doesn't even matter.
That's about the time a chunk of falling depression hit me hard on the back.
I didn't cry, even after the class. I did walk home in a fog of weirdness, but I still caught some Pokemon, so my mood improved a little. We hit the grocery store where I picked up bento lunch for us and Tomo who was sleeping in at home. We headed back and ate a bit and relaxed. Then my sister-in-law and I skyped for a bit.
Tomo got weirdly testy and then had a nap, so he was probably grumpy from lack of sleep.
Julia did not have a nap. I still want a nap, but now I've wasted the last 2 hours writing half a (different) blog post I might never finish and none of my story at all.
It's not even 5PM yet and I am exhausted.
So I guess I'll go and try the nano again.
Hugs to you, people. Hugs to you.
On 5 hours of sleep, I woke up and chatted with my mom before running Julia across town to music class, where she spent the last half of the time period running away from me. The saddest part was that she would do the dances well standing across the room from me, the same ones she refused to do when I was near her.
Yeah, it's about time for Kindergarten.
For some reason, with only 4 kids including Julia in a class that used to be at least double that size, I started thinking that maybe they had all quit because of us-- because my style of parenting doesn't lend itself well in this country and that I have no idea how the parents of the other kids get them to sit there patiently and calmly when mine is wild, even when disciplined-- and then I felt guilty and ashamed and like maybe every single thing I do here is wrong and maybe I don't know how to get it right and maybe it doesn't even matter.
That's about the time a chunk of falling depression hit me hard on the back.
I didn't cry, even after the class. I did walk home in a fog of weirdness, but I still caught some Pokemon, so my mood improved a little. We hit the grocery store where I picked up bento lunch for us and Tomo who was sleeping in at home. We headed back and ate a bit and relaxed. Then my sister-in-law and I skyped for a bit.
Tomo got weirdly testy and then had a nap, so he was probably grumpy from lack of sleep.
Julia did not have a nap. I still want a nap, but now I've wasted the last 2 hours writing half a (different) blog post I might never finish and none of my story at all.
It's not even 5PM yet and I am exhausted.
So I guess I'll go and try the nano again.
Hugs to you, people. Hugs to you.
Monday, October 31, 2016
Halloween Night With Anxiety
The last half hour of Halloween in Japan is upon us, and today I have run the gamut of my emotions.
Getting time to chat with my mom in the morning was joyous. Walking with Julia afterward was challenging but good. I did my best. Hiding inside after the cold wind picked up was less fun, but even if reluctant, the rest was good. Julia bouncing off the walls when Tomo came home was exhausting. Dinner was satiating, though not the most appealing in appearance.
Then Tomo brought up Kindergarten.Tomorrow is the day that we have to hand in the forms and, despite this being a basic and pain-free process, it has thrown me for a loop.
Every time one of these basic adult things, these milestones you come to, comes up for me here, I get a gigantic reminder that all those convenient lies I tell myself during the weeks and months between are complete crap. This is not just like America. I have no idea what I am doing. My basic knowledge of the language is utterly inadequate. I can't even have a good conversation with a four year old.
And my daughter suffers for my inabilities. My in-laws have to be involved in almost everything, to the detriment of the other people in their lives. My mother-in-law is accompanying me tomorrow because I am such a dependent fuck up and had to rearrange plans with her father to do it.
Every time something like this comes up I get to remember how incapable I am and I start doubting EVERYTHING. Okay, it usually doesn't get that far. I mean, even this time, the better-trained positive focus in my brain got me to sing part of Bohemian Rhapsody in the shower, so at least at my core something is fighting back.
Winter sucks and getting close to winter sucks. It doesn't help. So while I'm already a bit fragile from that I get to thinking that not studying is my downfall and asking why I don't apply myself to that at all while I apply myself to any one of a thousand other frankly fruitless endeavors. Something I need like Japanese I never do anything about. And then these things happen and I feel useless because I am useless.
That said I did actually read the note my mother-in-law left Saturday. She always gives me a run down of what they do during the day while I'm working, and usually I can't read enough of it to make sense. This week I did it, and understood around 80%. I missed a couple of the kanji but got the bulk of the message. it was a proud moment.
Last week had a lot of those. I built myself up into feeling that this Nano thing was possible, even likely. That I could do it.
Then we filled out the kindergarten form and talked about what happens if there's already a line and we can't get in and blah blah blah. My confidence shriveled.
The problems is that this stuff makes me doubt things I've already worked through and gotten over, like moving to Japan when my mom could have used me at home, like continuing to live so far from the family that doesn't get to hold my kid while she grows up. Like not finding the time to clean, work out, lose weight, and do all the other Japanese housewife things I suck at.
Instead I am fat. I am inept at cleaning. I am bad at Japanese (or at least not as good as I should be after living here 8 years), and I'm not doing anything about it,
I'm afraid I'm never going to be good at the things I am trying to do, and that my stupid youthful refrain of "no one loves me" has some sick truth to it, and that I'm screwing things up for my kid.
All these thoughts flow through me and I start to hyperventilate, but stop to have some tea or coffee or water. And I clear my mind enough to focus on one problem. And I do.
Rosetta Stone is running a special. $20 for a month with all 5 levels of any 1 language on the website.
I paid for it.
Now to see if it works, when I can do it, and get back into that novel writing thing.
Happy Halloween great ghouls, monsters, beasts and folk!
Getting time to chat with my mom in the morning was joyous. Walking with Julia afterward was challenging but good. I did my best. Hiding inside after the cold wind picked up was less fun, but even if reluctant, the rest was good. Julia bouncing off the walls when Tomo came home was exhausting. Dinner was satiating, though not the most appealing in appearance.
Then Tomo brought up Kindergarten.Tomorrow is the day that we have to hand in the forms and, despite this being a basic and pain-free process, it has thrown me for a loop.
Every time one of these basic adult things, these milestones you come to, comes up for me here, I get a gigantic reminder that all those convenient lies I tell myself during the weeks and months between are complete crap. This is not just like America. I have no idea what I am doing. My basic knowledge of the language is utterly inadequate. I can't even have a good conversation with a four year old.
And my daughter suffers for my inabilities. My in-laws have to be involved in almost everything, to the detriment of the other people in their lives. My mother-in-law is accompanying me tomorrow because I am such a dependent fuck up and had to rearrange plans with her father to do it.
Every time something like this comes up I get to remember how incapable I am and I start doubting EVERYTHING. Okay, it usually doesn't get that far. I mean, even this time, the better-trained positive focus in my brain got me to sing part of Bohemian Rhapsody in the shower, so at least at my core something is fighting back.
Winter sucks and getting close to winter sucks. It doesn't help. So while I'm already a bit fragile from that I get to thinking that not studying is my downfall and asking why I don't apply myself to that at all while I apply myself to any one of a thousand other frankly fruitless endeavors. Something I need like Japanese I never do anything about. And then these things happen and I feel useless because I am useless.
That said I did actually read the note my mother-in-law left Saturday. She always gives me a run down of what they do during the day while I'm working, and usually I can't read enough of it to make sense. This week I did it, and understood around 80%. I missed a couple of the kanji but got the bulk of the message. it was a proud moment.
Last week had a lot of those. I built myself up into feeling that this Nano thing was possible, even likely. That I could do it.
Then we filled out the kindergarten form and talked about what happens if there's already a line and we can't get in and blah blah blah. My confidence shriveled.
The problems is that this stuff makes me doubt things I've already worked through and gotten over, like moving to Japan when my mom could have used me at home, like continuing to live so far from the family that doesn't get to hold my kid while she grows up. Like not finding the time to clean, work out, lose weight, and do all the other Japanese housewife things I suck at.
Instead I am fat. I am inept at cleaning. I am bad at Japanese (or at least not as good as I should be after living here 8 years), and I'm not doing anything about it,
I'm afraid I'm never going to be good at the things I am trying to do, and that my stupid youthful refrain of "no one loves me" has some sick truth to it, and that I'm screwing things up for my kid.
All these thoughts flow through me and I start to hyperventilate, but stop to have some tea or coffee or water. And I clear my mind enough to focus on one problem. And I do.
Rosetta Stone is running a special. $20 for a month with all 5 levels of any 1 language on the website.
I paid for it.
Now to see if it works, when I can do it, and get back into that novel writing thing.
Happy Halloween great ghouls, monsters, beasts and folk!
Thursday, September 22, 2016
Almost Fall, Almost Payday, Almost Sane
Today was exhausting and great as I got to play with draping an actual living human form for the first time. It was one of my best friends in any country and I was helping her turn an old sofa-cover into a Halloween costume. I am weirdly giddy about this.
It reminded me of being 8 years old and trying to drape the massive petals and leaves of the trees outside our house around sticks, bringing fashion through foliage to....sticks, really. I loved it.
Then we took off for Sendai and I am so very lucky to have friends who are agreeable to watch my monster-baby while I teach because this little nut-ball I call a daughter was active-verging-on-insane for most of the lesson, with a complete meltdown coming at the end, when she was told that she couldn't steal toys from other kids.
She wanted to go to the owl cafe, but as we were all exhausted, it wasn't really an option. Also, freaked out kids spook the birds. Next time, if she's good and I have the money, we'll do it.
This hasn't been the easiest week, but we made it to the end with an appointment to have a walk-through at our preferred kindergarten in a week or so. I've got a few other big things lined up in the coming week to keep me busy.
I'd really wanted to edit a novel before nano, but really can't do it a) with the noise of the toddler about or b) when everyone's asleep but I'm too sleep deprived to function, which leaves c) during the school day when I am not working come April.
In the mean time, I will put some more energy into my Patreon projects, figure out my Halloween costume (and get Julia's ready as well) and maybe finally finish playing Fallout New Vegas.
But I am in a pretty secure emotional place, looking forward to dropping some money in the bank, and finding stuff to make happen.
Yay!
Though I am very much not looking forward to changing out my clothes again. It's something we don't usually do in Texas-- store half your wardrobe elsewhere for half the year. It's just not necessary.
But here it is, and that means digging through my drawers and each of 4 bins of organized clothing in addition to the space bags I have stored elsewhere.
Maybe my next project should be getting rid of some of these clothes.
For now, relaxing, blogging, Patreon, costuming, and video games.
It reminded me of being 8 years old and trying to drape the massive petals and leaves of the trees outside our house around sticks, bringing fashion through foliage to....sticks, really. I loved it.
Then we took off for Sendai and I am so very lucky to have friends who are agreeable to watch my monster-baby while I teach because this little nut-ball I call a daughter was active-verging-on-insane for most of the lesson, with a complete meltdown coming at the end, when she was told that she couldn't steal toys from other kids.
She wanted to go to the owl cafe, but as we were all exhausted, it wasn't really an option. Also, freaked out kids spook the birds. Next time, if she's good and I have the money, we'll do it.
This hasn't been the easiest week, but we made it to the end with an appointment to have a walk-through at our preferred kindergarten in a week or so. I've got a few other big things lined up in the coming week to keep me busy.
I'd really wanted to edit a novel before nano, but really can't do it a) with the noise of the toddler about or b) when everyone's asleep but I'm too sleep deprived to function, which leaves c) during the school day when I am not working come April.
In the mean time, I will put some more energy into my Patreon projects, figure out my Halloween costume (and get Julia's ready as well) and maybe finally finish playing Fallout New Vegas.
But I am in a pretty secure emotional place, looking forward to dropping some money in the bank, and finding stuff to make happen.
Yay!
Though I am very much not looking forward to changing out my clothes again. It's something we don't usually do in Texas-- store half your wardrobe elsewhere for half the year. It's just not necessary.
But here it is, and that means digging through my drawers and each of 4 bins of organized clothing in addition to the space bags I have stored elsewhere.
Maybe my next project should be getting rid of some of these clothes.
For now, relaxing, blogging, Patreon, costuming, and video games.
Thursday, September 15, 2016
Half-way Through September...and I've No Idea What I'm Doing
I had planned to edit a nano novel this month. Instead, I've been playing tour guide to real and imagined visitors to Tohoku, the latter of which through my travel blog. My coverage of the Tanabata Festival tied for first place in the Summer Blogging Campaign. Yay!
I am using the winnings to buy a tortilla press. And a bunch of other stuff.
As I struggle to find more truly useful things to blog about and review, I'm also seeking out Engrish for a new Patreon I launched on the 13th. I prepare small lots of Engrish things and send them to people who pay me money. Then I go out on the hunt again. Shipping is included in the price. I've severely limited the number of patrons for each level because this isn't a big company. It's one woman with a baby putting together Engrish packages in the free time between blogging, teaching, and tending to the toddler. So yeah, 9 people.
So far it's already beating my Sock Monkey Patreon, but I am keeping both going because I like both. Creating something and sharing it every month is actually really good for my psyche, as is getting the creation into the world and out of my house (I am a hoarder after all). Remembering the fun parts of living in Japan and sharing that with others is a big deal, too, and also vital to my continued comfort in this inherently foreign place.
Speaking of inherently foreign, this week we officially started looking into kindergartens in Shiogama and the one I liked a lot is just about full. It's a Buddhist school that teaches tea ceremony and calligraphy to 5 year-olds, which I thought would be a cool way for Julia to start embracing parts of her Japanese culture before anyone has a chance to tell her she's not Japanese enough to enjoy them. Officially, applications will not even be accepted until next month, but priority goes to younger siblings of graduates and those enrolled in the pre-pre-k for 2 year-olds.
So we're basically screwed out of that school. That said, a very kind friend/student offered to get us in for a tour, which we took, and it was a very nice place, very close to where we live. That's where we learned that there are already kids wait-listed for the 3 spots open and they will have the list full be the end of the week. That's tomorrow. My husband and I haven't even been able to sit down and have a conversation over how we're paying for school (around $4,000 a year for 3-5 year-olds) much less which specific school we need to tour or how we're making the decision.
There are a number of kindergartens in Shiogama, most of them Buddhist. We'll see if there are any other options, or any at all we might be able to do without me having to go back into the world of full-time eikaiwa work.
I enjoyed teaching at conversational schools and they paid well enough, especially for a single woman in her 20s, but a lot of the energy I used for those classes came from a mostly-ignored maternal sense which now has a place to go. I do teach eikaiwa classes part-time even now, but doing this for a few hours a week has totally different requirements than doing so for 5-7 classes per day.
And I like writing and blogging and exploring. I like my Patreons and teaching Julia when I can and having adventures. I like what I do now...
But am I really just Homer Simpson in that episode of the Simpsons where he gets a job at the bowling alley before they realize Marge is pregnant with Maggie? Am I really just being a selfish jackass, letting my kid's intellect and options get squandered because I would rather make sock monkeys than pull frustrating old men through a complex language they are unlikely to ever use?
(This is a gross oversimplification. Most eikaiwa students are wonderful, and I do more at home than just making sock monkeys.)
I'm also feeling rather helpless, not just for the financial things but because I'm frustrated with not being completely fluent in Japanese. I can't just call up and tour kindergartens on my own. I can't just read all the paperwork and fill it out for us. I can't even just go with my mother-in-law as I'll never know what's going on. While my extraordinarily kind student/friend walked with us through the tour, I merely kept up with Julia, trying to keep her out of trouble without any idea what anyone was saying or why.
So in conclusion, I have no idea what we're doing for Julia's schooling or how we will pay for it or even how we will determine such a thing based on a significant lack of time. I want to write and make sock monkeys and send people boxes of Engrish. I don't know how I'll have time for all the writing and Patreons and Julia stuff if I go back to full-time eikaiwa work.
Yup. That's about it.
I am using the winnings to buy a tortilla press. And a bunch of other stuff.
As I struggle to find more truly useful things to blog about and review, I'm also seeking out Engrish for a new Patreon I launched on the 13th. I prepare small lots of Engrish things and send them to people who pay me money. Then I go out on the hunt again. Shipping is included in the price. I've severely limited the number of patrons for each level because this isn't a big company. It's one woman with a baby putting together Engrish packages in the free time between blogging, teaching, and tending to the toddler. So yeah, 9 people.
So far it's already beating my Sock Monkey Patreon, but I am keeping both going because I like both. Creating something and sharing it every month is actually really good for my psyche, as is getting the creation into the world and out of my house (I am a hoarder after all). Remembering the fun parts of living in Japan and sharing that with others is a big deal, too, and also vital to my continued comfort in this inherently foreign place.
Speaking of inherently foreign, this week we officially started looking into kindergartens in Shiogama and the one I liked a lot is just about full. It's a Buddhist school that teaches tea ceremony and calligraphy to 5 year-olds, which I thought would be a cool way for Julia to start embracing parts of her Japanese culture before anyone has a chance to tell her she's not Japanese enough to enjoy them. Officially, applications will not even be accepted until next month, but priority goes to younger siblings of graduates and those enrolled in the pre-pre-k for 2 year-olds.
So we're basically screwed out of that school. That said, a very kind friend/student offered to get us in for a tour, which we took, and it was a very nice place, very close to where we live. That's where we learned that there are already kids wait-listed for the 3 spots open and they will have the list full be the end of the week. That's tomorrow. My husband and I haven't even been able to sit down and have a conversation over how we're paying for school (around $4,000 a year for 3-5 year-olds) much less which specific school we need to tour or how we're making the decision.
There are a number of kindergartens in Shiogama, most of them Buddhist. We'll see if there are any other options, or any at all we might be able to do without me having to go back into the world of full-time eikaiwa work.
I enjoyed teaching at conversational schools and they paid well enough, especially for a single woman in her 20s, but a lot of the energy I used for those classes came from a mostly-ignored maternal sense which now has a place to go. I do teach eikaiwa classes part-time even now, but doing this for a few hours a week has totally different requirements than doing so for 5-7 classes per day.
And I like writing and blogging and exploring. I like my Patreons and teaching Julia when I can and having adventures. I like what I do now...
But am I really just Homer Simpson in that episode of the Simpsons where he gets a job at the bowling alley before they realize Marge is pregnant with Maggie? Am I really just being a selfish jackass, letting my kid's intellect and options get squandered because I would rather make sock monkeys than pull frustrating old men through a complex language they are unlikely to ever use?
(This is a gross oversimplification. Most eikaiwa students are wonderful, and I do more at home than just making sock monkeys.)
I'm also feeling rather helpless, not just for the financial things but because I'm frustrated with not being completely fluent in Japanese. I can't just call up and tour kindergartens on my own. I can't just read all the paperwork and fill it out for us. I can't even just go with my mother-in-law as I'll never know what's going on. While my extraordinarily kind student/friend walked with us through the tour, I merely kept up with Julia, trying to keep her out of trouble without any idea what anyone was saying or why.
So in conclusion, I have no idea what we're doing for Julia's schooling or how we will pay for it or even how we will determine such a thing based on a significant lack of time. I want to write and make sock monkeys and send people boxes of Engrish. I don't know how I'll have time for all the writing and Patreons and Julia stuff if I go back to full-time eikaiwa work.
Yup. That's about it.
Thursday, September 1, 2016
September is Upon Us!
Indeed!
September has come and this morning I finally got something done. Yesterday I had too many goals, few of which could be accomplished with my toddler-turned-almost-kid-perhaps in tow. It's not that she's distracting, though she is, but the flights of fancy for a 3 year old come fast and hard, which makes it hard to keep up. I know I am not the only person to set a child down in a safe-ish area, turn around to do/write/make something, and turn back to find utter mayhem.
Luckily, a lot of my class preparation has been done for me this month as the one private lesson for whom I usually write tests is instead utilizing a copy of The Canterville Ghost that comes complete with activities, quizzes, and pre-reading assignments. Also, the story is divided up into sections that can be read easily and quickly, perfect for this private lesson.
I did finally get the dress for this month's Patreon item made this morning so I could get it on the monkey and photographed. These were all goals for yesterday torpedoed by my rambunctious offspring. But now it is online! See it here or with details about my Patreon here.
Yay!
Now to clean up and relax before a friend from high school visits in a couple of days. My brain is trying to go into hyper-drive planning things to do-- because this is exciting and I rarely get visitors-- but I am trying to remember that this is someone's vacation. Stressed out crazy people don't really help anyone relax.
We're going to Matsushima, though, and it is hard for me not to relax when I am that close to the ocean and beautiful Matsushima.
You might have noticed last month I blogged a lot on a different website about travel and summer in Japan. Those posts and any future posts I do on specifically Japanese guide-type topics can be found here.
Right now, I am working on 2 blog posts about year-round fun activities in the area as well as a number of reviews for the same website. This month's contest incentive is, as previous noted perhaps, fruit for (the most) reviews. I'm aiming for 5th place so I can win 3000yen worth of apples for my daughter to eat.
This week has actually been really eventful but somehow flew past. Sunday we had a bubble-party for Julia, filling the air of the park nearest our house with bubbles from half a dozen 100 yen store sources. It was a great time, and an easy one. We came back to my place and watched the DVD copy of Willow I found a few weeks ago in Sendai. Cool, right? Yeah, geeky, but easy and fun! With home-made cake!
Julia's actual birthday was marred by typhoon weather, which abated just in time for us to see a sunset and not have to relocate to my in-laws' house for the evening to avoid my husband's car being washed away in flooding. Yay for not having to leave! Everything was alright, though Julia started off the day by kicking my arm while I was playing Minecraft, sending my character into lava where she died. luckily I was travelling with friends who could pick up my inventory and bring them back to our little village. Soon, I will return to the virtual world we created and reclaim my property. I'm almost over the burn now.
I was really angry about my daughter killing me on her birthday.
Yes, killing me in game, but still. It was not a great time.
Now we've got tons of fun and crazy cool times ahead! So much to do, so little time to write about it.
September has come and this morning I finally got something done. Yesterday I had too many goals, few of which could be accomplished with my toddler-turned-almost-kid-perhaps in tow. It's not that she's distracting, though she is, but the flights of fancy for a 3 year old come fast and hard, which makes it hard to keep up. I know I am not the only person to set a child down in a safe-ish area, turn around to do/write/make something, and turn back to find utter mayhem.
Luckily, a lot of my class preparation has been done for me this month as the one private lesson for whom I usually write tests is instead utilizing a copy of The Canterville Ghost that comes complete with activities, quizzes, and pre-reading assignments. Also, the story is divided up into sections that can be read easily and quickly, perfect for this private lesson.
I did finally get the dress for this month's Patreon item made this morning so I could get it on the monkey and photographed. These were all goals for yesterday torpedoed by my rambunctious offspring. But now it is online! See it here or with details about my Patreon here.
Yay!
Now to clean up and relax before a friend from high school visits in a couple of days. My brain is trying to go into hyper-drive planning things to do-- because this is exciting and I rarely get visitors-- but I am trying to remember that this is someone's vacation. Stressed out crazy people don't really help anyone relax.
We're going to Matsushima, though, and it is hard for me not to relax when I am that close to the ocean and beautiful Matsushima.
You might have noticed last month I blogged a lot on a different website about travel and summer in Japan. Those posts and any future posts I do on specifically Japanese guide-type topics can be found here.
Right now, I am working on 2 blog posts about year-round fun activities in the area as well as a number of reviews for the same website. This month's contest incentive is, as previous noted perhaps, fruit for (the most) reviews. I'm aiming for 5th place so I can win 3000yen worth of apples for my daughter to eat.
This week has actually been really eventful but somehow flew past. Sunday we had a bubble-party for Julia, filling the air of the park nearest our house with bubbles from half a dozen 100 yen store sources. It was a great time, and an easy one. We came back to my place and watched the DVD copy of Willow I found a few weeks ago in Sendai. Cool, right? Yeah, geeky, but easy and fun! With home-made cake!
Julia's actual birthday was marred by typhoon weather, which abated just in time for us to see a sunset and not have to relocate to my in-laws' house for the evening to avoid my husband's car being washed away in flooding. Yay for not having to leave! Everything was alright, though Julia started off the day by kicking my arm while I was playing Minecraft, sending my character into lava where she died. luckily I was travelling with friends who could pick up my inventory and bring them back to our little village. Soon, I will return to the virtual world we created and reclaim my property. I'm almost over the burn now.
I was really angry about my daughter killing me on her birthday.
Yes, killing me in game, but still. It was not a great time.
Now we've got tons of fun and crazy cool times ahead! So much to do, so little time to write about it.
Saturday, August 27, 2016
Livestreaming for the Win!
This morning I crawled out of bed early, expecting to talk to a friend, play some Minecraft, avoid cleaning my house-- the normal Sunday morning routine. Then I saw that The Dresden Dolls were having a free livestream at a time when I would both be awake and at a computer. Yay!
The show is just about to start now. I love this medium! Introverts Abroad should sponsor live webcasts like this. If there is such a thing. If not there should be and they should do this.
This will be my first Dresden Dolls concert, and I can hear other fans, yankees*, in ,my head telling me this isn't the same as seeing them in person and I agree. Of course it isn't. But unless the magic money fairy flies them to Japan and helps them play a free concert mid-day in Sendai, this is the closest I am likely to come.
So shut up, internalized yankees* of negativity.
And now, I will enjoy a strange/fun/random affair.
Join me?
https://huzza.io/amandapalmer/live-stream/the-dresden-dolls-live-from-coney-island
* A Yankee by Texas definition: Anyone from New England. Anywhere in New England. Really anywhere north of the Mason-Dixon line.
The show is just about to start now. I love this medium! Introverts Abroad should sponsor live webcasts like this. If there is such a thing. If not there should be and they should do this.
This will be my first Dresden Dolls concert, and I can hear other fans, yankees*, in ,my head telling me this isn't the same as seeing them in person and I agree. Of course it isn't. But unless the magic money fairy flies them to Japan and helps them play a free concert mid-day in Sendai, this is the closest I am likely to come.
So shut up, internalized yankees* of negativity.
And now, I will enjoy a strange/fun/random affair.
Join me?
https://huzza.io/amandapalmer/live-stream/the-dresden-dolls-live-from-coney-island
* A Yankee by Texas definition: Anyone from New England. Anywhere in New England. Really anywhere north of the Mason-Dixon line.
Tuesday, August 23, 2016
Hey! C'mon, Get Awkward!
So I am slowly getting used to this expat blogging business. Kind of awesome. Not paying-my-student-loans awesome, but still a lot of fun and at least a little helpful in procuring entertainment for the toddler.
I've written 6 pieces in about 10 days plus a handful of reviews for the next campaign-- in which the blogger with the most reviews within the time period wins super fancy grapes. The next three most active reviewers win (less fancy but still) nice Japanese grapes. The next three get a small crate of apples each. Given Julia's love for fruit that is both red and crunchy, it seems I'm aiming for winning on the low end here. Honestly, it would be awesome to win fruit of any kind. That's just a really fun way to encourage me to keep writing, and the reviews I share might help other foreigners when they come to my area. I think other foreign wives of Japanese people probably have their own methods of sending money home, but knowing that the people at Travelex in the shopping arcade will not accept your partner's name, even if it is on your passport, might save someone else some time, embarrassment, and rage.
I'm also reviewing things I like! I am mostly reviewing things I would want a friend who came to the area to see or know about. That's how I am engaging with this most of the time.
In addition, I am slowly figuring out how I am supposed to engage with city-cost and the other bloggers there. I asked them about the presence of statues on their ceremonial mailboxes in their towns and the responses were not what I had expected. Apparently our fish in Shiogama is even more special than I thought.
The point is that I am engaging with the people on the website and not hiding away all of my weirdness, and not getting actively shunned for it either. The Owl Cafe post now has over 600 views. More people are following me on twitter, and some of them are even famous, which freaks me out in the best possible way but also makes me constantly rethink all of my tweets until I turn into that geeky chick at the cool kids party who makes a joke no one gets and tries to lean next to the punch bowl all cool-like but instead tips the whole table over and winds up looking like a the soaked skeletal dog body hidden beneath the layers of every fluff breed. She would laugh then of course, at it would be punctuated with a loud snort. Poor awkward girl.
Yeah, I should probably get back into novel writing again soon, too. I plan to spend the next two months editing last year's Nano novel to get me ready for this November. We'll see how that goes in combination with the non-fiction writing I am doing so much of these days.
Julia's actually told me twice today that she had to potty. Verbally. In words. It was amazing.
We've had a rough couple of days and I haven't been getting a lot of sleep, but this morning she slept in while I got to play (and really enjoy) Minecraft with some friends, and it was awesome. No one died this time!
I've come to the conclusion that I have acquired too much fabric and need to quilt the living hell out of it, which means buying a bunch of 100 yen store batting and just having at it, but when?
In other news, typhoons seem to be wanting to come hang out over here. It was windy with small amounts of slap-you-in-the-face droplets last night, but this morning was clear and sunny, until I tried to leave the house. Then it was overcast completely, the clouds overhead so dark and dense that the only sign that daylight hours were still upon us was the rim of whiter clouds around the horizon.
After a childhood in Texas, I have learned to regard dark skies with a respectful fear. Even without a drop of rain and knowing that tornadoes are pretty freaking unlikely didn't make me want to spend any more time than absolutely necessary outside. We scampered to the store and back.
After we came home, it rained a bunch but the cloud cover has not abated.
It is my understanding that parenthood with a 3 year old is essentially intermittent spurts of joy, pain, anger, fear, frustration, exhaustion, and grief, all while varying between becoming a monster and melting your heart.
Maybe that's just me.
I am trying not to be awful, but I do lose my temper more than I'd like. I'm working on it.
Once I can get us on a sleep schedule, this will be easier for all of us.
Until then, ganbatte imasu.
I've written 6 pieces in about 10 days plus a handful of reviews for the next campaign-- in which the blogger with the most reviews within the time period wins super fancy grapes. The next three most active reviewers win (less fancy but still) nice Japanese grapes. The next three get a small crate of apples each. Given Julia's love for fruit that is both red and crunchy, it seems I'm aiming for winning on the low end here. Honestly, it would be awesome to win fruit of any kind. That's just a really fun way to encourage me to keep writing, and the reviews I share might help other foreigners when they come to my area. I think other foreign wives of Japanese people probably have their own methods of sending money home, but knowing that the people at Travelex in the shopping arcade will not accept your partner's name, even if it is on your passport, might save someone else some time, embarrassment, and rage.
I'm also reviewing things I like! I am mostly reviewing things I would want a friend who came to the area to see or know about. That's how I am engaging with this most of the time.
In addition, I am slowly figuring out how I am supposed to engage with city-cost and the other bloggers there. I asked them about the presence of statues on their ceremonial mailboxes in their towns and the responses were not what I had expected. Apparently our fish in Shiogama is even more special than I thought.
Yeah, I should probably get back into novel writing again soon, too. I plan to spend the next two months editing last year's Nano novel to get me ready for this November. We'll see how that goes in combination with the non-fiction writing I am doing so much of these days.
Julia's actually told me twice today that she had to potty. Verbally. In words. It was amazing.
We've had a rough couple of days and I haven't been getting a lot of sleep, but this morning she slept in while I got to play (and really enjoy) Minecraft with some friends, and it was awesome. No one died this time!
I've come to the conclusion that I have acquired too much fabric and need to quilt the living hell out of it, which means buying a bunch of 100 yen store batting and just having at it, but when?
In other news, typhoons seem to be wanting to come hang out over here. It was windy with small amounts of slap-you-in-the-face droplets last night, but this morning was clear and sunny, until I tried to leave the house. Then it was overcast completely, the clouds overhead so dark and dense that the only sign that daylight hours were still upon us was the rim of whiter clouds around the horizon.
After a childhood in Texas, I have learned to regard dark skies with a respectful fear. Even without a drop of rain and knowing that tornadoes are pretty freaking unlikely didn't make me want to spend any more time than absolutely necessary outside. We scampered to the store and back.
After we came home, it rained a bunch but the cloud cover has not abated.
It is my understanding that parenthood with a 3 year old is essentially intermittent spurts of joy, pain, anger, fear, frustration, exhaustion, and grief, all while varying between becoming a monster and melting your heart.
Maybe that's just me.
I am trying not to be awful, but I do lose my temper more than I'd like. I'm working on it.
Once I can get us on a sleep schedule, this will be easier for all of us.
Until then, ganbatte imasu.
Monday, August 15, 2016
Expat Blogging Success and Small Town Grudges: Yay for the internet!
As you probably know by now, this is my personal blog, dedicated to all the craziness that makes up my day-to-day existence.
Recently I ran across a cool looking campaign for expat bloggers living in Japan and figured, what the heck? There's a decent enough financial incentive and I love having the opportunity to: a) get more attention for Tohoku from travelling foreigners, b) get more of my writing out there, and c) have a reason to go and explore to keep me away from the post-GISH funk.
Also, if I play my cards right, I can make enough money in Amazon Japan vouchers to buy a copy of Inside Out for my daughter.
Good times, right?
Good times, right?
Actually, BEYOND yes. I thought through lists of places I've been and pictures I have, places I want more foreigners in Japan to enjoy, regardless of their status as visitors just to my area or to the country at large.
I got my first post online on August 13th, guiding the audience through a bunch of pics from the Sendai Owl Cafe in the arcade. You can find it here.
It worked out fine so I spent the next afternoon walking to Shiogama Shrine, playing tour guide to an imagines audience via pictures and videos. This morning, Julia and Tomo slept in so I got that post put together, too.
I got my first post online on August 13th, guiding the audience through a bunch of pics from the Sendai Owl Cafe in the arcade. You can find it here.
It worked out fine so I spent the next afternoon walking to Shiogama Shrine, playing tour guide to an imagines audience via pictures and videos. This morning, Julia and Tomo slept in so I got that post put together, too.
This evening, we come home from my in-laws house (at sleepy Julia's insistence, which was kind of awesome) to find these statistics:
What?! Almost 500 people have read about the owl cafe? And over a hundred have virtually followed me to Shiogama Shrine since this morning? Have I stepped into an alternate dimension where I am actually allowed to be successful at more than one thing at a time?
I'm joking. And elated. I hope these people liked what they saw, because I'm not anywhere near stopping this train.
I'm joking. And elated. I hope these people liked what they saw, because I'm not anywhere near stopping this train.
Plans for potential future city-cost blog posts include:
A Walk through Matsushima
How to get to: Marine Gate, the ferry-port
What to bring to a Japanese Beach
Entsuuin, The Buddhist Temple in Matsushima
How to Murder Gnats
And that's just for the Summer in Japan campaign!
Afterward, I'd really like to explain the insane cleaning regimen dictated to Japanese housewives, starting with How to Clean a Japanese Bathtub (from the inside out, removing the facing), Did You Know You're Supposed to Clean your AC?, and How to Kill Mold on Curtains.
A Walk through Matsushima
How to get to: Marine Gate, the ferry-port
What to bring to a Japanese Beach
Entsuuin, The Buddhist Temple in Matsushima
How to Murder Gnats
And that's just for the Summer in Japan campaign!
Afterward, I'd really like to explain the insane cleaning regimen dictated to Japanese housewives, starting with How to Clean a Japanese Bathtub (from the inside out, removing the facing), Did You Know You're Supposed to Clean your AC?, and How to Kill Mold on Curtains.
I could actually be helping other expats figure out what is going on. I could be slowly changing the world.
Something large and strange has just begun.
But don't worry, blogger readers. My personal life still belongs here, with you.
It is necessary to have a place where I don't have to be productive and helpful in that sense, where it is enough just to be me.
That's what Jenny Lawson taught me. Love that woman. That wonderfully crazy woman.
In other news, a girl who once won a Judo tournament by having her older sister threaten to beat me up if I didn't throw the match (and my overly sensitive butt cried instead of fighting because that's how threats work when you're already paranoid) and went on to the Olympics now is a police officer in my home town. Her dad is a (really inadequate) constable, so this isn't exactly shocking, and cops in my home town kid of suck. I will not forget the one who slammed my 120 pound mother into a wall (after she had dual whiplash) trying to get information regarding a non-crime. I was a teenager and we were at a bowling alley. Seriously all I remember is this guy, easily half a foot taller with twice the body weight, getting physically aggressive with a woman he did not properly gauge the age of.
So I am absolutely sure that the Girl who Threatened will fit right in.
In other weird small-town-li-ness, I sat next to her older sister, the one who was going to beat me up, in Japanese Culture and Civilization class at TCU. She didn't remember me and I didn't hold any of it against her, really. Honestly even holding a grudge against her sister for 25 years seems pretty ridiculous.
But it did change the course of my life, not that judo wouldn't have eventually fallen out of our lives anyway. A few years later, we left the dojo for a multitude of reasons mostly stemming from the sensei showing inadequacy and favoritism.
The funny thing is this thing made the papers, and came across my facebook feed, and made me snarl. Now I laugh, because it's all so damned inconsequential.
Now, I live abroad, with no real plan of living anywhere else any time soon, but instead with the ability to help others, whether they've been here for a day or a month or a year. I remember how scary some of it is, especially if you're in a city without a large foreign collective.
In conclusion, yay for the internet!
Tuesday, August 9, 2016
GISH and Beating the Post-GISH Funk
GISHWHES was amazing. My team pulled together despite several members getting new jobs, moving across the world, having job-related distress, and a number of other small calamities to produce some crazy times and fun art.
I personally performed at least 24 tasks by my own tally, which is way more than I probably should have.
We had a great time and I don't have a lot of regrets this year, mostly just a couple of tweaks to make sure things are even better next year.
Also, I am glad I opted to skip the items that required 10-15 people when I can't even get 5 together at one time. Those ones are not for me, obviously.
And now, just like after any big marathon of mental stress (GISHWHES, Nanowrimo, any huge project), part of me wants to take a break and relax for a minute while another part wants to sleep the sleep of the dead.
My daughter has fallen asleep. my husband is working overnight tonight. It's just us. I could do anything. I could write or edit or stream whatever I want. I could study or sew or stuff a sock monkey. There are a thousand things that I can do but the biggest flashing sign in my head is SLEEP.
Yet I am reluctant. I know I need the rest, but I know the sleep that looms ahead of me and it is the sleep of depression. It's the wake-up-at-noon-and-hate-yourself sleep that I just do not need today. Or ever.
A thousand things to do, but I can't pick one.
Except sleep.
And I watched a stupid creepy show so now my subconscious is convinced sleep will lure voodoo witches out from whatever nether-realm, despite the fact that voodoo in Shiogama is not really a thing. It is not unlike the paranoia of my childhood self, taking poorly construed re-enactments from Unsolved Mysteries as nightmare fuel.
So maybe I will stay up making crafts and watching Netflix things my husband has no interest in.
Until dawn.
Then I will sleep the short sleep of the winded woman.
Yay.
I personally performed at least 24 tasks by my own tally, which is way more than I probably should have.
We had a great time and I don't have a lot of regrets this year, mostly just a couple of tweaks to make sure things are even better next year.
Also, I am glad I opted to skip the items that required 10-15 people when I can't even get 5 together at one time. Those ones are not for me, obviously.
And now, just like after any big marathon of mental stress (GISHWHES, Nanowrimo, any huge project), part of me wants to take a break and relax for a minute while another part wants to sleep the sleep of the dead.
My daughter has fallen asleep. my husband is working overnight tonight. It's just us. I could do anything. I could write or edit or stream whatever I want. I could study or sew or stuff a sock monkey. There are a thousand things that I can do but the biggest flashing sign in my head is SLEEP.
Yet I am reluctant. I know I need the rest, but I know the sleep that looms ahead of me and it is the sleep of depression. It's the wake-up-at-noon-and-hate-yourself sleep that I just do not need today. Or ever.
A thousand things to do, but I can't pick one.
Except sleep.
And I watched a stupid creepy show so now my subconscious is convinced sleep will lure voodoo witches out from whatever nether-realm, despite the fact that voodoo in Shiogama is not really a thing. It is not unlike the paranoia of my childhood self, taking poorly construed re-enactments from Unsolved Mysteries as nightmare fuel.
So maybe I will stay up making crafts and watching Netflix things my husband has no interest in.
Until dawn.
Then I will sleep the short sleep of the winded woman.
Yay.
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
So Much Awesome, So Little Time!
We spent the weekend taking our first little family road trip, in which we went to Yamagata prefecture (next to Miyagi, between us and the sea of Japan) where we watched the clouds of rain descend from the mountains, ate delicious Yamagata Beef, stopped by an odd Turkish building for ice cream and a kebab, visited a winery, and stayed in a fairly lovely little hotel. Julia joined me for the onsen (hot springs) and actually behaved herself really well aside from slipping and falling on her butt a couple of times.
Our second day included a guided tour of a country-side film-set village (for period dramas and samurai movies), a short walk around Sakata (home of a few historical samurai houses), and a long drive home.
The next day was Marine/Sea/Ocean Day in Japan, so Julia and I marched with our friends in the Shiogama International Friendship Organization. Okay so I did the dance (and messed it up a lot) while Julia ran around, chased by my good friend Hana, who was and is a lifesaver.
Today was a much-needed respite. I mostly played Minecraft with friends in Texas. Then we went to the post office and grocery store. Then we hung out until Julia crashed.
And she slept soundly until midnight. Now it's 2AM and who knows when I'm going to get any sleep.
Which leads me to another point.
Our second day included a guided tour of a country-side film-set village (for period dramas and samurai movies), a short walk around Sakata (home of a few historical samurai houses), and a long drive home.
The next day was Marine/Sea/Ocean Day in Japan, so Julia and I marched with our friends in the Shiogama International Friendship Organization. Okay so I did the dance (and messed it up a lot) while Julia ran around, chased by my good friend Hana, who was and is a lifesaver.
Today was a much-needed respite. I mostly played Minecraft with friends in Texas. Then we went to the post office and grocery store. Then we hung out until Julia crashed.
And she slept soundly until midnight. Now it's 2AM and who knows when I'm going to get any sleep.
Which leads me to another point.
GISHWHES is coming so I paid for a month of Netflix so Julia might be distracted enough to I can get some things done. I just watched 2 separate movies on Netflix made in the last couple of years that had a weekend-enlightenment-camp-turned-cult as a major facet of the plot. I can only imagine that there are quire a few cynical screenwriters in California who are bored and frustrated with what must be a fad of weekend enlightenment seminars.
Both movies were lacking in a lot of ways, but the one thing that got me was how the people talked about the cult beforehand.
And they sounded a bit like me with GISHWHES. "It'll change your life and open your eyes and make you into a new person." I say, and I mean it, too. The thing is amazing, but it isn't a weekend seminar and Misha Collins isn't a cult-leader, asking for your $18.89 to power his extravagant lifestyle.
The cost of entering GISH goes mostly to running costs, prizes, and charity.
The thing is a week-long experiment in complete insanity and is beyond anything I can describe well enough to be understood at 2AM.
But it is an amazing thing, and if my overly-excited geeking out about it puts you off, I would like to apologize for not knowing a better way to convey my enthusiasm to you. It's freaking amazing, I think.
But it isn't a cult. I swear. Just a bunch of people all over the globe doing crazy, cool and fun weird things for one week out of the year.
Join us.
You have fewer than 4 days.
Also, my team is full.
Monday, July 11, 2016
How to Change the World/Clean My Dirty House
Sorry for the whining of last post.
I've been wadding in this pool of funk for a little bit, and I have decided to try harder to get the hell out of it, and I am doing it the same way I clean my house and the same way we will change the world.
One little act at a time.
I'm exhausted and depression kills and I don't want it but sometimes that's just how it is. The way I can get out of it when I'm not in too deep yet is start trying to take care of myself in the same way I would a troubled friend. It helps more than it should.
My house is in awful condition and if there were a mafia of Japanese housewives patrolling to make sure everyone was up to snuff, I'd already be sleeping with the fishes. The place is a wreck and to such a degree that I cannot even see myself getting it done. So, when I save up enough energy, I clean one thing or another for fifteen minutes. Then I go do something else and come back to do another 15 minutes in an hour or so. If I had the energy and focus to do this every hour, my house would be clean in 2 days, but even just a couple of 15 minute intervals a day makes a difference.
And the way we will change the world is the same. Simple actions. One word at a time. There are a lot of things that need to change and it seems impossible, but we will change them. One day at a time. Do what you can to work toward your solution. When you've exhausted yourself or your options for the time being, rest. Try again when the opportunity arises.
I know this doesn't work on all problems, but for a lot of them, it does.
It's also good to have hope and be brave, but when those don't apply, do what you can and rest.
In action:
Last night, I let myself get some sleep despite the fact that my husband had to stay at work overnight and I don't usually sleep those nights, but it was the best thing to do for self preservation.
I had also worked at putting all the clothes I bought to sell on eBay online to sell somewhere else since there's some weird hitch in eBay's ability to deal with me as a seller.
I also cleaned the kitchen floor (after spilling a bunch of un-popped popcorn all over it) and the wall nearest my stove, where the off-cast splatter from 5 years of hastily prepared meals had lingered and bugged the crap out of me. Now it's gone. One thing at a time.
This morning I awoke to find a buyer lined up for the most expensive article in my stash-for-sale. I also awoke capable, thanks to the sleep, and could not only talk to my mom while getting some breakfast into my daughter as well as myself, but also I had what it took to walk across the town for Julia's music lesson, which was the best it has ever been.
One thing at a time.
Now I am in such a better mental place than I was yesterday and I am going to get the rest of this stuff sold and I am going to get this house cleaned and it's all going to be okay.
So, if there's something you can do to make things better, do it, even if it's only a little at a time.
I wish I could flip a switch and make the world a better place. I wish there were such a simple means to that end. The best I have is this. Do what you can. One thing at a time.
I've been wadding in this pool of funk for a little bit, and I have decided to try harder to get the hell out of it, and I am doing it the same way I clean my house and the same way we will change the world.
One little act at a time.
I'm exhausted and depression kills and I don't want it but sometimes that's just how it is. The way I can get out of it when I'm not in too deep yet is start trying to take care of myself in the same way I would a troubled friend. It helps more than it should.
My house is in awful condition and if there were a mafia of Japanese housewives patrolling to make sure everyone was up to snuff, I'd already be sleeping with the fishes. The place is a wreck and to such a degree that I cannot even see myself getting it done. So, when I save up enough energy, I clean one thing or another for fifteen minutes. Then I go do something else and come back to do another 15 minutes in an hour or so. If I had the energy and focus to do this every hour, my house would be clean in 2 days, but even just a couple of 15 minute intervals a day makes a difference.
And the way we will change the world is the same. Simple actions. One word at a time. There are a lot of things that need to change and it seems impossible, but we will change them. One day at a time. Do what you can to work toward your solution. When you've exhausted yourself or your options for the time being, rest. Try again when the opportunity arises.
I know this doesn't work on all problems, but for a lot of them, it does.
It's also good to have hope and be brave, but when those don't apply, do what you can and rest.
In action:
Last night, I let myself get some sleep despite the fact that my husband had to stay at work overnight and I don't usually sleep those nights, but it was the best thing to do for self preservation.
I had also worked at putting all the clothes I bought to sell on eBay online to sell somewhere else since there's some weird hitch in eBay's ability to deal with me as a seller.
I also cleaned the kitchen floor (after spilling a bunch of un-popped popcorn all over it) and the wall nearest my stove, where the off-cast splatter from 5 years of hastily prepared meals had lingered and bugged the crap out of me. Now it's gone. One thing at a time.
This morning I awoke to find a buyer lined up for the most expensive article in my stash-for-sale. I also awoke capable, thanks to the sleep, and could not only talk to my mom while getting some breakfast into my daughter as well as myself, but also I had what it took to walk across the town for Julia's music lesson, which was the best it has ever been.
One thing at a time.
Now I am in such a better mental place than I was yesterday and I am going to get the rest of this stuff sold and I am going to get this house cleaned and it's all going to be okay.
So, if there's something you can do to make things better, do it, even if it's only a little at a time.
I wish I could flip a switch and make the world a better place. I wish there were such a simple means to that end. The best I have is this. Do what you can. One thing at a time.
Saturday, July 9, 2016
Whining Mostly. Apologies.
It seems like a small pile of menial BS, but here's what's been bugging me:
1) I've still only got 2 patrons on Patreon, and while it's great to have any and I am so grateful for all the help I receive, I also witnessed one of the more successful Patreon folks from Amanda Palmer's Facebook Group help to bolster $92 in support for a chick doing vague math-related things. She had a goal of $75.
I want to give up. It doesn't matter what my goals or dreams are with this. I get $14 per month, which covers shipping plus like $6, which I am paying to other people on Patreon.
And then I start thinking that my patrons are really just pitying me. They don't really want my stupid prizes and no one does because if they did I would have more than two. People would be excited about the chance to win a sock monkey. Only two people seem to think this is a good idea, and my brain can't decide what their intentions are.
I usually don't say this stuff aloud for fear of alienating my already tiny fan base, but today I am kind of crumbling.
2) I think, unless things are fixed and I am given some huge benefit for going through this ordeal, I will no longer be attempting to sell things on eBay. It is not worth my time.
If you weren't following my post from earlier in the week on social media, here is it in short form:
Thursday: Finally posted auctions for the clothes I've been kicking my ass about for the last week, obsessively ironing and photographing every second I get sans baby. To my surprise, my seller limit is 2, meaning as a new seller, I can only have 2 auctions up until 90 days after my first sale.
Friday: Both auctions are taken offline with a short email saying I went over my limit. I go online to find that my new limit is now 0. I write an email to eBay customer service.
Saturday: I get a timely response from an eBay customer service representative, saying that this is definitely an error and she will pass my case along to the higher-ups to determine what happened and why. The process will take 7 to 10 business days.
I don't know if it is worth it to continue this avenue of income generation.
It seems like everything I do, every internet based economic trust fall I attempt, I wind up flat on my ass or crushing some people to death.
Maybe that is just how it feels right now.
In brighter news, GISHWHES is just 3 weeks away. I want to be excited but today I am worried that I burned through all of my energy and enthusiasm trying to build a monetary base and won't have any left for the hunt.
So it is time to turn my focus inward, rebuild what I can emotionally, and get ready for the wild ride that is GISHWHES.
Oh, and clean my house. My husband was sneezing like a madman all yesterday, allegedly from "house dust" though today he also feels unwell at work. It's true he sneezed a lot in our home, and he didn't sneeze out in public so much, but he did have a sneezing fit in the lobby, which is cleaned meticulously all the time.
So is it really house dust? Who knows! I do know that I would like to do a thorough cleaning of the air conditioner (which you're supposed to do here in Japan and I never have) so today I get to go out and buy a ladder, a can of air conditioner cleaner, and a tarp to put on the wall around and under the AC so it can leak out all its grossness on something other than the walls and furniture.
The good news? I found an English guide, written by an American stationed off-base in Okinawa, on how to clean this specific thing. Later, I will see if I can find a guide for cleaning a bath-tub and shower room as complicated as my own.
For now I will eat and relax and talk with friends. The day will be better.
1) I've still only got 2 patrons on Patreon, and while it's great to have any and I am so grateful for all the help I receive, I also witnessed one of the more successful Patreon folks from Amanda Palmer's Facebook Group help to bolster $92 in support for a chick doing vague math-related things. She had a goal of $75.
I want to give up. It doesn't matter what my goals or dreams are with this. I get $14 per month, which covers shipping plus like $6, which I am paying to other people on Patreon.
And then I start thinking that my patrons are really just pitying me. They don't really want my stupid prizes and no one does because if they did I would have more than two. People would be excited about the chance to win a sock monkey. Only two people seem to think this is a good idea, and my brain can't decide what their intentions are.
I usually don't say this stuff aloud for fear of alienating my already tiny fan base, but today I am kind of crumbling.
2) I think, unless things are fixed and I am given some huge benefit for going through this ordeal, I will no longer be attempting to sell things on eBay. It is not worth my time.
If you weren't following my post from earlier in the week on social media, here is it in short form:
Thursday: Finally posted auctions for the clothes I've been kicking my ass about for the last week, obsessively ironing and photographing every second I get sans baby. To my surprise, my seller limit is 2, meaning as a new seller, I can only have 2 auctions up until 90 days after my first sale.
Friday: Both auctions are taken offline with a short email saying I went over my limit. I go online to find that my new limit is now 0. I write an email to eBay customer service.
Saturday: I get a timely response from an eBay customer service representative, saying that this is definitely an error and she will pass my case along to the higher-ups to determine what happened and why. The process will take 7 to 10 business days.
I don't know if it is worth it to continue this avenue of income generation.
It seems like everything I do, every internet based economic trust fall I attempt, I wind up flat on my ass or crushing some people to death.
Maybe that is just how it feels right now.
In brighter news, GISHWHES is just 3 weeks away. I want to be excited but today I am worried that I burned through all of my energy and enthusiasm trying to build a monetary base and won't have any left for the hunt.
So it is time to turn my focus inward, rebuild what I can emotionally, and get ready for the wild ride that is GISHWHES.
Oh, and clean my house. My husband was sneezing like a madman all yesterday, allegedly from "house dust" though today he also feels unwell at work. It's true he sneezed a lot in our home, and he didn't sneeze out in public so much, but he did have a sneezing fit in the lobby, which is cleaned meticulously all the time.
So is it really house dust? Who knows! I do know that I would like to do a thorough cleaning of the air conditioner (which you're supposed to do here in Japan and I never have) so today I get to go out and buy a ladder, a can of air conditioner cleaner, and a tarp to put on the wall around and under the AC so it can leak out all its grossness on something other than the walls and furniture.
The good news? I found an English guide, written by an American stationed off-base in Okinawa, on how to clean this specific thing. Later, I will see if I can find a guide for cleaning a bath-tub and shower room as complicated as my own.
For now I will eat and relax and talk with friends. The day will be better.
Wednesday, July 6, 2016
Big Roundup-- Patreon, GISHWHES, and More!
We've had a lot of little adventures recently. I'm usually exhausted, Julia's almost potty-trained, and Tomo's excited to go on a weekend getaway in a couple of weeks.
Did you know that Yamagata prefecture is home to 12 wineries...and more than 50 sake breweries?
The almost-no-alone-time aspect of motherhood is getting to me.
Last month I started my own Patreon in which I make sock monkeys, other stuffed animals, and short videos about making or selling aforementioned animals. I currently have 2 patrons, and that is awesome but also a little sad. I tried using social media, talking to other pro-patreon groups (the unofficial and official Amanda Palmer patron fan-clubs on facebook), and doing so regularly.
I added pictures. I made a silly jingle and recorded us singing it.
I even entered to a "Patreon Patron Trade" sort-of group where you sign up to give a dollar to another artist who in turn does the same for you. Having more patrons helps get others interested they say, and it works. One of the guys on there has 70 patrons!
And because he has 70 patrons, he doesn't need my patronage and would be unlikely to notice an extra dollar, much less reciprocate.
So I found someone making about $7, but since her last post was months ago, she seems to have given up and also has not reciprocated. I still gave her a dollar last month.
I posted in the group, and one of my two patrons liked it, and otherwise it has gone unnoticed.
The big pluses for the Patreon thing for me:
1) I get to make sock monkeys out of the socks I keep getting from friends.
2) I get to give the sock monkeys to winners of that month's raffle, so I don't have to keep them.
3) Shipping is surprisingly less than what I am making on Patreon.
4) I could (and did) become patron to a few more people on Patreon because, thanks to my amazing duo of my patrons, I can finally afford to do it.
The unfortunate thing is that it isn't catching on as well as I had hoped and I am essentially giving the animals away, but it's alright overall. Maybe time will help.
Want a chance to win a sock monkey or sock lemur (this month's raffle prizes)? Check out my Patreon here.
I also realized that Art and Crafts on Patreon gets very little attention. Maybe if I use more of the multimedia aspect-- Vlogging about life as a Texan parent in Japan, or random things we find, or whatever. I could do a craft vlog. I just need time to record and edit.
Maybe after GISHWHES.
Speaking of which, GISHWHES is almost upon us! Less than a month left and I am super excited to announce that my team is almost full, with just a couple of people we're waiting on and we will be ready to roll. This year, I'm saving $20 to order a box of kale from Tohoku farmers in Aomori. It's going to be awesome.
If you need more info on the Greatest International Scavenger Hunt the World Has Ever Seen, check out the website here.
The last new thing I am working into is selling designer clothes I find in Sendai second-hand shops on ebay. Usually I use my second-hand-sale binges to revitalize Julia's wardrobe or sometimes my own, but this time I've hunted down some fancy things that might be worth more to someone than what I paid plus shipping.
So that's what I am doing.
What are you up to?
Also, there's an amazing new gelato place in Shiogama that Hana showed me the other day and it was AMAZING!
Did you know that Yamagata prefecture is home to 12 wineries...and more than 50 sake breweries?
The almost-no-alone-time aspect of motherhood is getting to me.
Last month I started my own Patreon in which I make sock monkeys, other stuffed animals, and short videos about making or selling aforementioned animals. I currently have 2 patrons, and that is awesome but also a little sad. I tried using social media, talking to other pro-patreon groups (the unofficial and official Amanda Palmer patron fan-clubs on facebook), and doing so regularly.
I added pictures. I made a silly jingle and recorded us singing it.
I even entered to a "Patreon Patron Trade" sort-of group where you sign up to give a dollar to another artist who in turn does the same for you. Having more patrons helps get others interested they say, and it works. One of the guys on there has 70 patrons!
And because he has 70 patrons, he doesn't need my patronage and would be unlikely to notice an extra dollar, much less reciprocate.
So I found someone making about $7, but since her last post was months ago, she seems to have given up and also has not reciprocated. I still gave her a dollar last month.
I posted in the group, and one of my two patrons liked it, and otherwise it has gone unnoticed.
The big pluses for the Patreon thing for me:
1) I get to make sock monkeys out of the socks I keep getting from friends.
2) I get to give the sock monkeys to winners of that month's raffle, so I don't have to keep them.
3) Shipping is surprisingly less than what I am making on Patreon.
4) I could (and did) become patron to a few more people on Patreon because, thanks to my amazing duo of my patrons, I can finally afford to do it.
The unfortunate thing is that it isn't catching on as well as I had hoped and I am essentially giving the animals away, but it's alright overall. Maybe time will help.
Want a chance to win a sock monkey or sock lemur (this month's raffle prizes)? Check out my Patreon here.
I also realized that Art and Crafts on Patreon gets very little attention. Maybe if I use more of the multimedia aspect-- Vlogging about life as a Texan parent in Japan, or random things we find, or whatever. I could do a craft vlog. I just need time to record and edit.
Maybe after GISHWHES.
Speaking of which, GISHWHES is almost upon us! Less than a month left and I am super excited to announce that my team is almost full, with just a couple of people we're waiting on and we will be ready to roll. This year, I'm saving $20 to order a box of kale from Tohoku farmers in Aomori. It's going to be awesome.
If you need more info on the Greatest International Scavenger Hunt the World Has Ever Seen, check out the website here.
The last new thing I am working into is selling designer clothes I find in Sendai second-hand shops on ebay. Usually I use my second-hand-sale binges to revitalize Julia's wardrobe or sometimes my own, but this time I've hunted down some fancy things that might be worth more to someone than what I paid plus shipping.
So that's what I am doing.
What are you up to?
Also, there's an amazing new gelato place in Shiogama that Hana showed me the other day and it was AMAZING!
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
Compassion, Damn It: A Four Part Discourse
I've been waiting to write this and post this, and I've seen so many better written, somehow more valid representations, explanations, and points of view, but I still feel that what I need to say has a purpose and value.
So I am saying it.
Part One: It Shouldn't Be You
Even if you are personally in disagreement with homosexuality or any alternative to the cis-gender hetero-normative culture out there, you should be able to see that 49 people being shot dead is a bad thing, and is indicative of some much bigger problems.
The father of the shooter was recently quoted as saying that his main problem with what his son did was that God alone should judge others, including those awful sinners, the gays. While I take issue with a lot of this, I also agree that if you do believe so strongly in the Bible or the Koran, you should avoid judging others, regardless of their sins. I draw the line at child-molesters, as forgiveness for pedophiles is a bridge too far for me, but people engaging in consensual relationships with adult partners are outside of this. Those people's business, regardless of that anyone else thinks about it, should be their own.
So if you think it's a sin, it's not your job to judge it, stop it, or hurt the people involved. It's your job to love, and at very most pray for the people involved. What you don't realize is that they might be praying for you, too-- to open your heart and mind, to accept them for who they are, to know and love them as much as they love you without the caveat of chopping their soul into pieces so as to more easily fit into the box you're prescribing. But regardless of who prays for whom and why, the point is that we all sin in our own ways, and it is not your place to judge. At all. Much less who gets to live or die.
What the world needs now is more compassion, more love, more caring about each other and less of the selfish divisions driven by the differences between us.
Fewer guns, less violence, a call to love over hate. There are a lot of positive options, but I don't know if America as a whole will take them.
I've been living in a country with virtually no guns for the last 8 years, and guess what, America? I don't feel cheated, or uncomfortable, or unsafe for the lack of easy-murder-machines made available to the public.
Quite the opposite. I don't have the strange anxiety in the background of my mind, telling me that guns and bullets are everywhere, and people in general are stupid, easily over-heated, passionate creatures. If we were living in the states, I am sure I would be more scared about the times when my husband is late coming home. It could be traffic, or a number of other innocuous things. Or maybe he cut off a redneck in a pickup (or some thug or any other person with a hot temper and a gun) who decided that the little Asian dude was talking funny and needed to be put in his place.
Instead, I rest easily, knowing that my daughter is more likely to be struck by lightning than a stray bullet and that no matter how my husband drives, the likelihood of road-rage-murder is pretty damned minimal.
A few years ago, my mother was almost killed when some would-be gang-bangers decided to cruise up beside her on the freeway and fire a gun at her vehicle. Apparently this is some kind of initiation tactic. When the police were called, their suggestion was that my mother chase down the suspects herself. So, with police suggestions like that, I can almost understand the desire for personal protection, but if guns were harder to get, less personal protection would be necessary as well. A lot of stuff needs to change, but continuing on the path as it is cannot be done safely. We don't all need guns. None of us need guns. None.
One could argue that my mother, had she been carrying a firearm, could have fired back at the assailants instead of freaking out about being shot at while driving. Answers like that turn The Land of the Free into the dystopia of Mad Max proportions.
I don't know about you, but I don't want to live there.
Part Two: It Could Have Been Me.
Relocate the incident a bit to the northwest. Turn back the clock a decade or so, and that could have been me. That could have been me twelve years ago with my best friend of the time, doing what I had seen in Queer As Folk and taking him to a place where he could find someone more available than the friend of his brother's on whom he was then crushing hard.
Turn back a little less and it could have been me with my straight, single female friends, looking for somewhere to dance without the threat of contact with unwanted genitals.
The same year, it was the GSA on an unofficial outing. The same semester, it was my other roommate and I blowing off steam after midterms by watching the drag show. It could even be the one night a girl gave me her number, the only time I was hit on by a member of the same sex.
Turn back the clock just over 8 years, and it's just before I moved to Japan, going to the drag show with my mom and her friends and enjoying our time together immensely.
At any of these points, it could have been me shot dead in a night club by a well-armed madman.
But it wasn't. I got to grow up, graduate from college, move abroad, fall in love, get fat, get married, have a baby, and live well enough to be in such a position as to write about this now.
I'm lucky as hell. But I don't feel lucky.
I know I am not the only person whose heart breaks for the families and friends of the victims of the Pulse Massacre.
If you are one of the people who feels nothing for this incident, who thinks those people had it coming for being who they are without fear, I want you to remember this, especially if you know me and love me at all. Or even just like me a tiny bit.
That could have been me. I could have died there. And, because it was at a time and place rooted pretty firmly in my past, you might not have ever even known me. I would never have become who I am now. My relationships with friends and relatives are significantly more fruitful than they were in those days.
Think about your life. Think about whatever little place I may hold in it and ponder that space being replaced by a painful void. If this hurts, mourn for these victims and their families. Show some compassion. We're not all that different, really.
So mourn, and love, and feel damn it. Don't tell me it doesn't matter and please don't treat this as a non-issue.
It's a big deal. A really big deal.
Part Three: Priorities
Japan has frequent earthquakes. It's nature. So they build for it. The standards for how and where to build are very high, and the restrictions severe, for good reason. I was here for the Magnitude 9 Earthquake, and guess what? A lot of furniture got destroyed, some buildings had cracks, but almost nothing collapsed. Part of this is because a fairly major quake had struck 30 years previous, after which everything was built to new standards, which is why they didn't fall in 2011. Unfortunately, earlier this year, Kumamoto prefecture suffered a devastating quake of a lower magnitude. The high number of casualties can at least partially be attributed to the fact that they had not had a major quake in a much longer time, so nothing had been rebuilt to new standards in some time.
America doesn't have the same standards for building, so when we hear about a Magnitude 6 or 7 in California, people start asking about body counts. America hasn't adapted to the geological problems that come with living on a fault line the way the Japanese have, and one could argue that those exacting standards are bad for business. Such work could cost contractors and construction companies too much in materials, labor and time.
Bad for business and too expensive in dollars, but ultimately bad for living conditions and expensive in life.
Part Four: Dear America
So I am saying it.
Part One: It Shouldn't Be You
Even if you are personally in disagreement with homosexuality or any alternative to the cis-gender hetero-normative culture out there, you should be able to see that 49 people being shot dead is a bad thing, and is indicative of some much bigger problems.
The father of the shooter was recently quoted as saying that his main problem with what his son did was that God alone should judge others, including those awful sinners, the gays. While I take issue with a lot of this, I also agree that if you do believe so strongly in the Bible or the Koran, you should avoid judging others, regardless of their sins. I draw the line at child-molesters, as forgiveness for pedophiles is a bridge too far for me, but people engaging in consensual relationships with adult partners are outside of this. Those people's business, regardless of that anyone else thinks about it, should be their own.
So if you think it's a sin, it's not your job to judge it, stop it, or hurt the people involved. It's your job to love, and at very most pray for the people involved. What you don't realize is that they might be praying for you, too-- to open your heart and mind, to accept them for who they are, to know and love them as much as they love you without the caveat of chopping their soul into pieces so as to more easily fit into the box you're prescribing. But regardless of who prays for whom and why, the point is that we all sin in our own ways, and it is not your place to judge. At all. Much less who gets to live or die.
What the world needs now is more compassion, more love, more caring about each other and less of the selfish divisions driven by the differences between us.
Fewer guns, less violence, a call to love over hate. There are a lot of positive options, but I don't know if America as a whole will take them.
I've been living in a country with virtually no guns for the last 8 years, and guess what, America? I don't feel cheated, or uncomfortable, or unsafe for the lack of easy-murder-machines made available to the public.
Quite the opposite. I don't have the strange anxiety in the background of my mind, telling me that guns and bullets are everywhere, and people in general are stupid, easily over-heated, passionate creatures. If we were living in the states, I am sure I would be more scared about the times when my husband is late coming home. It could be traffic, or a number of other innocuous things. Or maybe he cut off a redneck in a pickup (or some thug or any other person with a hot temper and a gun) who decided that the little Asian dude was talking funny and needed to be put in his place.
Instead, I rest easily, knowing that my daughter is more likely to be struck by lightning than a stray bullet and that no matter how my husband drives, the likelihood of road-rage-murder is pretty damned minimal.
A few years ago, my mother was almost killed when some would-be gang-bangers decided to cruise up beside her on the freeway and fire a gun at her vehicle. Apparently this is some kind of initiation tactic. When the police were called, their suggestion was that my mother chase down the suspects herself. So, with police suggestions like that, I can almost understand the desire for personal protection, but if guns were harder to get, less personal protection would be necessary as well. A lot of stuff needs to change, but continuing on the path as it is cannot be done safely. We don't all need guns. None of us need guns. None.
One could argue that my mother, had she been carrying a firearm, could have fired back at the assailants instead of freaking out about being shot at while driving. Answers like that turn The Land of the Free into the dystopia of Mad Max proportions.
I don't know about you, but I don't want to live there.
Part Two: It Could Have Been Me.
Relocate the incident a bit to the northwest. Turn back the clock a decade or so, and that could have been me. That could have been me twelve years ago with my best friend of the time, doing what I had seen in Queer As Folk and taking him to a place where he could find someone more available than the friend of his brother's on whom he was then crushing hard.
Turn back a little less and it could have been me with my straight, single female friends, looking for somewhere to dance without the threat of contact with unwanted genitals.
The same year, it was the GSA on an unofficial outing. The same semester, it was my other roommate and I blowing off steam after midterms by watching the drag show. It could even be the one night a girl gave me her number, the only time I was hit on by a member of the same sex.
Turn back the clock just over 8 years, and it's just before I moved to Japan, going to the drag show with my mom and her friends and enjoying our time together immensely.
At any of these points, it could have been me shot dead in a night club by a well-armed madman.
But it wasn't. I got to grow up, graduate from college, move abroad, fall in love, get fat, get married, have a baby, and live well enough to be in such a position as to write about this now.
I'm lucky as hell. But I don't feel lucky.
I know I am not the only person whose heart breaks for the families and friends of the victims of the Pulse Massacre.
If you are one of the people who feels nothing for this incident, who thinks those people had it coming for being who they are without fear, I want you to remember this, especially if you know me and love me at all. Or even just like me a tiny bit.
That could have been me. I could have died there. And, because it was at a time and place rooted pretty firmly in my past, you might not have ever even known me. I would never have become who I am now. My relationships with friends and relatives are significantly more fruitful than they were in those days.
Think about your life. Think about whatever little place I may hold in it and ponder that space being replaced by a painful void. If this hurts, mourn for these victims and their families. Show some compassion. We're not all that different, really.
So mourn, and love, and feel damn it. Don't tell me it doesn't matter and please don't treat this as a non-issue.
It's a big deal. A really big deal.
Part Three: Priorities
Japan has frequent earthquakes. It's nature. So they build for it. The standards for how and where to build are very high, and the restrictions severe, for good reason. I was here for the Magnitude 9 Earthquake, and guess what? A lot of furniture got destroyed, some buildings had cracks, but almost nothing collapsed. Part of this is because a fairly major quake had struck 30 years previous, after which everything was built to new standards, which is why they didn't fall in 2011. Unfortunately, earlier this year, Kumamoto prefecture suffered a devastating quake of a lower magnitude. The high number of casualties can at least partially be attributed to the fact that they had not had a major quake in a much longer time, so nothing had been rebuilt to new standards in some time.
America doesn't have the same standards for building, so when we hear about a Magnitude 6 or 7 in California, people start asking about body counts. America hasn't adapted to the geological problems that come with living on a fault line the way the Japanese have, and one could argue that those exacting standards are bad for business. Such work could cost contractors and construction companies too much in materials, labor and time.
Bad for business and too expensive in dollars, but ultimately bad for living conditions and expensive in life.
This is not unlike the gun situation.
In Japan, there will be quakes and people have died in building collapses, which is why the standards are so high. Because keeping people alive in general is considered more important than keeping the rich exceedingly rich, at least when it comes to natural disasters.
America's disasters aren't natural. They are every day and all around. They are children finding the firearm meant for home protection and putting wholes in themselves, their friends, or their parents. They are people with serious psychological issues being able to get an assault rifle legally. They are the guns, the shootings, the constant "prayers and thoughts" with no government follow through of better legislation.
Because keeping the gun manufacturers' wallets fat is more important than keeping our people alive.
America's disasters aren't natural. They are every day and all around. They are children finding the firearm meant for home protection and putting wholes in themselves, their friends, or their parents. They are people with serious psychological issues being able to get an assault rifle legally. They are the guns, the shootings, the constant "prayers and thoughts" with no government follow through of better legislation.
Because keeping the gun manufacturers' wallets fat is more important than keeping our people alive.
And that, my friends, is seriously fucked up.
Part Four: Dear America
So, America, it's like this. You're great. I love some parts of you, and some of your people, and some of your culture and even some of what makes you so damned arrogant. I love you, but I can't be with you. I can't have you around my daughter. You're diversity is wonderful and all, but you're dangerous. You're hanging with a bad crowd, and until you make some big changes, we're not going to be seeing a lot of each other. We'll keep in touch online, and I'm not revoking my citizenship or anything that drastic, but I am not visiting you when you're like this. I can't. My family is too important to let something like your lax gun laws destroy it.
Thanks for the good times, and I hope this isn't forever.
Adios.
Thanks for the good times, and I hope this isn't forever.
Adios.
Sunday, June 5, 2016
Saying Goodbye to Grandma: Part 2, the Funeral
Today was truly exhausting, but I think it went okay. Evidence of this exist in anecdotes told by my husband's extended family and the fact that my in-laws thanked me (assumably for trying to participate while also trying to keep Julia in line, but more on this later) when they drove me home and my husband went off to finish up whatever needed to be finished.
Julia was disruptive/adventurous basically the whole time, but she really enjoyed the flowers.
Japanese funerals are a bit different from their western counterparts, but strangely enough, even in a society where social norms are dictated with such force that a lot of things appear practically cookie-cutter style, the funeral is not necessarily a one-size-fits-all option.
Of course, the religion of the deceased is taken into account, and most people in Japan fall into the Buddhist-Shinto combination so a lot of funerals are similar in many ways. My husband generally tells me any time there is a Christian funeral of any kind, more out of idle curiosity than anything else. They are rare, and we usually have to have this huge lecture on the many versions of that religion, and how they are different, and what they mean. They are rare here, Christians and their funerals, but Tomo's eldest aunt is apparently a Christian of some kind, so who knows? I mean, I didn't know (or judge. I really don't care what people believe most of the time...)
Grandma, as it turns out, was not religious, so we had no monks, no priests. No stuffy pontifications. Instead, her family and friends gathered, her son read a short speech, shared a DVD of pictures from her life, and her friends read letters aloud.
We missed most of this as Julia seems to think any quiet moment is the perfect time to scream or sing or run ton the front of the room and bellow.
So we waited in the hall for her to calm down and tried to come back into the ceremony hall, where we then waited for about five minutes to run back out again.
That in essence was my morning, which is why I don't know more about the letters. Were they from her life or written to her by the reader? Or were they from people who couldn't make it, guests who didn't get to come and say goodbye in person? I just don't know, though odds are even if I did have the chance to hang around, I would probably have misinterpreted the lot of them.
I heard the tears from the crowd though, even from outside in the hallway. Emotions flowed, as they should at times like this. My father- in-law was teary. I never noticed before today how much deeper his voice is comparing to his son's.
After the letters came flowers. First, everyone is given a long-stemmed white carnation to bring to the front, place in a pile on a stone slab, and pause to reflect on the deceased, who is at this time in the room, face visible through through a see-through panel in the lid of the casket, which is wood covered in pink brocade, strangely gorgeous.
You might be asking yourself why there is fabric around the outside of the casket, and from a western perspective, this is a good question and something I don't think a lot of Japanese people would recognize as weird.
This is not a coffin that will ever see dirt. It will be taken to the crematorium and burned in its entirety. They can put cloth wherever they want. It's not like it'll have much of a chance to get stained before it disintegrates.
After the white carnations, more things are said and done, that I also missed due to toddler-rage. When we returned, the lid of the coffin was off, and the name of the game was surrounding the deceased in flowers.
Nothing wrong with that, I think, with my American mind. Totally makes sense to me actually, and so much better than stupid non-biodegradable objects, because this isn't going to be a burial. Surround her with the beauty of life. Let it go with her.
They did her make-up and hair well. She looked genuinely at peace. It was actually quite lovely.
Julia really got into this flower bit, picking the perfect place to put small handfuls of pink roses and purple carnations. My husband handed me a purple-edged white rose and I picked up an orchid to accompany it and placed them in any spare area around her upper body that looked a little bare.
In a casket almost overflowing with flora, she looked very well loved.
After this, the pink box was sealed, the see-through panel shuttered, and the procession headed out toward the waiting hearse (which my husband dutifully drove) and shuttle-bus (for people who didn't fit into the hearse, like us and my mother-in-law) which took us to the crematorium.
At the crematorium, we said our final goodbyes to her physical form as we knew it and I kind of missed out for my screaming daughter, but I tried to do whatever the right thing looked like at the time. Julia and I ran around outside for a bit, and then inside for a bit and back and forth and man, I was worn out. We sat down to a lunch of sushi I could actually eat, which was exciting and made my mother-in-law proud of me. Julia ate veggie-chips and then ran around a bunch more. At one point she almost interrupted another family's last goodbyes and had to be headed off by both my mother-in-law and myself, simultaneously.
It is interesting to note that at full gallop, I can only just match my tiny mother-in-law in full kimono.
I don't know how she wore all of that without sweating. I mean, I was sweating like a small cow by the end of the day, and mine was just lined polyester.
There was a significant amount of me running after Julia, who was anxious to find trouble, but it wasn't all bad. All of my father-in-law's relatives made note of the fact that he was exactly the same as a child, and that they had watched the deceased do exactly as I was doing more times than anyone remembers.
Somehow, that makes it all fit.
After the burning comes bone collection, in which every family member picks through the remnant ash for any big, white chunks of bone and using one of several pairs of long, thick chopsticks, retrieves the charred marrow. I watched the older woman who I believe was the deceased's sister, lifting a chunk of what I think was hip-bone with one pair of chopsticks while her daughter helped by picking up the same piece with another pair. Together, they guided it into a large ceramic box.
And then Julia was screaming and we had to go outside again. Presumably
Eventually, we all departed, though this time the toddler of destruction and I got to ride in the comfort of my husband's car all the way out to our family grave, in a nice, comfortable cemetery north of Sendai.
My daughter and I slept on the way. Upon arrival, we ran out to change a diaper and then made our way to the family grave. Once the whole family was gathered, the cylindrical ceramic container was guided into place, behind a usually-closed hatch, beside an identical container, the final resting place of her husband.
Together, again, at last.
What I learned about her today was that she was from Shiogama, just like her husband. They were neighbors, with similar names. His was like mine, and what hers would become. Hers was one sound off, one of the most common names in Japan. Suzuki, she was, but Tsuzuki she died.
And now I do believe she is at peace.
Julia was disruptive/adventurous basically the whole time, but she really enjoyed the flowers.
Japanese funerals are a bit different from their western counterparts, but strangely enough, even in a society where social norms are dictated with such force that a lot of things appear practically cookie-cutter style, the funeral is not necessarily a one-size-fits-all option.
Of course, the religion of the deceased is taken into account, and most people in Japan fall into the Buddhist-Shinto combination so a lot of funerals are similar in many ways. My husband generally tells me any time there is a Christian funeral of any kind, more out of idle curiosity than anything else. They are rare, and we usually have to have this huge lecture on the many versions of that religion, and how they are different, and what they mean. They are rare here, Christians and their funerals, but Tomo's eldest aunt is apparently a Christian of some kind, so who knows? I mean, I didn't know (or judge. I really don't care what people believe most of the time...)
Grandma, as it turns out, was not religious, so we had no monks, no priests. No stuffy pontifications. Instead, her family and friends gathered, her son read a short speech, shared a DVD of pictures from her life, and her friends read letters aloud.
We missed most of this as Julia seems to think any quiet moment is the perfect time to scream or sing or run ton the front of the room and bellow.
So we waited in the hall for her to calm down and tried to come back into the ceremony hall, where we then waited for about five minutes to run back out again.
That in essence was my morning, which is why I don't know more about the letters. Were they from her life or written to her by the reader? Or were they from people who couldn't make it, guests who didn't get to come and say goodbye in person? I just don't know, though odds are even if I did have the chance to hang around, I would probably have misinterpreted the lot of them.
I heard the tears from the crowd though, even from outside in the hallway. Emotions flowed, as they should at times like this. My father- in-law was teary. I never noticed before today how much deeper his voice is comparing to his son's.
After the letters came flowers. First, everyone is given a long-stemmed white carnation to bring to the front, place in a pile on a stone slab, and pause to reflect on the deceased, who is at this time in the room, face visible through through a see-through panel in the lid of the casket, which is wood covered in pink brocade, strangely gorgeous.
You might be asking yourself why there is fabric around the outside of the casket, and from a western perspective, this is a good question and something I don't think a lot of Japanese people would recognize as weird.
This is not a coffin that will ever see dirt. It will be taken to the crematorium and burned in its entirety. They can put cloth wherever they want. It's not like it'll have much of a chance to get stained before it disintegrates.
After the white carnations, more things are said and done, that I also missed due to toddler-rage. When we returned, the lid of the coffin was off, and the name of the game was surrounding the deceased in flowers.
Nothing wrong with that, I think, with my American mind. Totally makes sense to me actually, and so much better than stupid non-biodegradable objects, because this isn't going to be a burial. Surround her with the beauty of life. Let it go with her.
They did her make-up and hair well. She looked genuinely at peace. It was actually quite lovely.
Julia really got into this flower bit, picking the perfect place to put small handfuls of pink roses and purple carnations. My husband handed me a purple-edged white rose and I picked up an orchid to accompany it and placed them in any spare area around her upper body that looked a little bare.
In a casket almost overflowing with flora, she looked very well loved.
After this, the pink box was sealed, the see-through panel shuttered, and the procession headed out toward the waiting hearse (which my husband dutifully drove) and shuttle-bus (for people who didn't fit into the hearse, like us and my mother-in-law) which took us to the crematorium.
At the crematorium, we said our final goodbyes to her physical form as we knew it and I kind of missed out for my screaming daughter, but I tried to do whatever the right thing looked like at the time. Julia and I ran around outside for a bit, and then inside for a bit and back and forth and man, I was worn out. We sat down to a lunch of sushi I could actually eat, which was exciting and made my mother-in-law proud of me. Julia ate veggie-chips and then ran around a bunch more. At one point she almost interrupted another family's last goodbyes and had to be headed off by both my mother-in-law and myself, simultaneously.
It is interesting to note that at full gallop, I can only just match my tiny mother-in-law in full kimono.
I don't know how she wore all of that without sweating. I mean, I was sweating like a small cow by the end of the day, and mine was just lined polyester.
There was a significant amount of me running after Julia, who was anxious to find trouble, but it wasn't all bad. All of my father-in-law's relatives made note of the fact that he was exactly the same as a child, and that they had watched the deceased do exactly as I was doing more times than anyone remembers.
Somehow, that makes it all fit.
After the burning comes bone collection, in which every family member picks through the remnant ash for any big, white chunks of bone and using one of several pairs of long, thick chopsticks, retrieves the charred marrow. I watched the older woman who I believe was the deceased's sister, lifting a chunk of what I think was hip-bone with one pair of chopsticks while her daughter helped by picking up the same piece with another pair. Together, they guided it into a large ceramic box.
And then Julia was screaming and we had to go outside again. Presumably
Eventually, we all departed, though this time the toddler of destruction and I got to ride in the comfort of my husband's car all the way out to our family grave, in a nice, comfortable cemetery north of Sendai.
My daughter and I slept on the way. Upon arrival, we ran out to change a diaper and then made our way to the family grave. Once the whole family was gathered, the cylindrical ceramic container was guided into place, behind a usually-closed hatch, beside an identical container, the final resting place of her husband.
Together, again, at last.
What I learned about her today was that she was from Shiogama, just like her husband. They were neighbors, with similar names. His was like mine, and what hers would become. Hers was one sound off, one of the most common names in Japan. Suzuki, she was, but Tsuzuki she died.
And now I do believe she is at peace.
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