Vogue Random

The Crystal Ballroom?, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

I like to post pictures of me with girls once in a while in order to feed

the rumor mill and perhaps fool people into thinking that I might have a

love life. Actually I paid this girl to let me take her picture with me and

I don't even know her name. No, that is a blatant lie. Except that I told

you right after so that means it wasn't a lie but just a joke. Right? Except

that it wasn't funny. Hmm....

The Crystal Ballroom(?)

The Crystal Ballroom?, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

Me being the 'life of the party' last December. I looked into the

flesh-colored crystal ball and saw train rides and afternoon slumber in my

future. You can see a T-back in my past if you look closely.

Test Taking Strategies, Part 1

You Are a Margarita

You aren't just the life of the party, you are the party! You mix a good drink, bust out some great music, and know how to get down.

What Mixed Drink Are You?

Hmm... all well and good except that I can't remember the last time I drank myself. If I were Rum and Coke that would be a different story altogether. I blame my grandpa for giving me sips while we played poker when I was in elementary school. Or rather I should thank him, rest his soul. Anyway back to the cocktail in question. Maybe tonight I will give it a whirl. Margaritas in Taipei... yeah, I like the sound of that. Hopefully there will not be a repeat of a certain dance-floor clearing feat that was performed by a friend of mine last time I went out in Taipei. You know who you are. I dare you to claim it. PS Congratulations on impending fatherhood. You didn't waste any time, did you? ;)

Comfort Zone

Comfort Zone, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

More self-disclosure. Somebody stop me!

Little Spurt of Nationalistic Pride?

Japanese, I am not. But cheer heartily, I do. And did. I kept hoping my downstairs neighbors were watching the games too, so that my outbursts would be not only tolerated but perhaps even enjoyed.

The first ever World Baseball Classic is over, and somehow Japan emerged on top. Thanks to J.K. I knew when the games were and on what channels. And thanks to a perfectly timed national holiday I was able to stay home and watch the final. It was awesome.

Between the Torino Olympics and now the WBC, I have discovered something about myself. I have some deep emotions about Japan. I love my own country, but I cheered for Japan with more fervor. A lot more. I suppose the underdog mentality has something to do with it as well. I had a similar epiphany when I went to Rome for ten days last year. Two of my happiest moments were when I saw a Japanese tour group and when I practiced speaking a little putonghua with the staff of a Chinese restaurant.

I miss my friends and family, and the ease with which everything can be done, the variety, the convenience, the bigness. But I still have no plans of leaving Asia. Then again I have no plans of staying, either. I have no plan at all. Nothing concrete anyway. I'll be sure to let you know when clarity comes. Until such time, I am happy to say that even in my most ambiguous wandering, life continues to be interesting. One thing I like about being here is that I am getting an education almost without trying. I used to bring home report cards with straight A's with a note at the bottom, "Hack does not apply himself." My thinking went that if I got an A, why should I expend energy beyond that? There were other things to do, after all.... I don't know that that was the right attitude, but it seems to have found a foothold in my personality, which is sometimes not such a good thing. But being aware of it, I have tried to put myself in situations where I either have no choice but to apply myself, or where there is so much mental sunlight and water that I grow regardless of my own laziness. Any effort on my part only provides fertilizer.

Speaking of fertilizer, a surprisingly high percentage of Japanese homes still lack flushing toilets. Until not long ago, many families had buckets designated for that purpose, which were put outside in the evening and collected for use as fertilizer. "Night Soil" it was called.

I will not attempt to analogize further on that point. Not now that all my efforts have turned to sh*t. I will say however that I have been feeling personally convicted that I should do more and try harder, in general. Of course that will be easier to do when it isn't so frickin' cold.

Excuses, excuses. Actually I am reading a book (well, I started reading it anyway) to help me with personal motivation and performance. I had this conversation with a friend a week or so ago, and now I ask you: Why is it that I feel slightly embarrassed to tell anyone that? Is this just my own personal insecurity, or do other people feel that way, too? Like you don't want to put any of your "self-help" books on the shelf where any guest might see and discover you are in fact not yet a perfect human being. Actually I am comfortable with vagueness. I just don't want to mention titles, authors, or specific subjects. That is, I don't mind saying I have problems, but I don't want to tell anyone what they are. After all, I wouldn't want anyone to know too much about me.... huh? Maybe I do, but maybe I am afraid of the vulnerability that would come with it. Yeah I guess that must be it. We don't want to let people see us too clearly until we feel assured that they won't be frightened or disgusted or disappointed. So we wear masks. No? I know I am not suggesting anything even slightly original. I am just thinking out loud in my pajamas. Sorry if I got a little pop-psycho on your hiney.

If I were a car, I would probably be an early 1990s Chevy pickup. Durable and able to carry a lot, but takes a lot of fuel. Not so easy to handle, has some dings and is not as efficient as it could be. But I want to be a 2006 Audi all-wheel drive convertible. Sleek and stylish and efficient. Can go almost anywhere. Practical enough but ready to put the top down whenever the situation calls for it, and plenty of room for others to get inside where it's warm.

Wow, that is more self-disclosure than I usually aim for in this particular medium. Oh well.

BGM: The Postal Service, "Give Up"

KENNEL FOR MEN

KENNEL FOR MEN, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

Unfortunately it was closed when I discovered it....

Ineffable

Ineffable, originally uploaded by Hack Rambler.

Refer to the title of this post for an explanation of my recent prolonged absence from blogdom.

Or just imagine the contents of three rooms moved suddenly into one room. Imagine access to the computer in that room as more trouble than it is worth. Imagine you are floating on a wave on the ocean, surrounded by starfish and sea horses. What's up with sea horses, anyway?

Over the past two weeks I am sure interesting things happened. I know at least one person said something either hilarious or exceptionally crass--probably both-- that I actually asked permission to write here. Permission granted; words lost. I had at least one dream that was intriguing enough (in my estimation, at least) and sufficiently coherent to recount. Yeah, forgot that, too. Like sands through the hourglass, so are the wasted opportunities that accumulate on my mountain of irresponsibility. Blogging failures are but a mere microcosm.

But then it's ok if you talk about it, right? That's like the first step I heard....

Ok, so before my already senile mind--ooh wait. That is bad Neuro-Linguistic Programming form. Uh, let me start over.

Ahem. (Don't read that carelessly or you might think I typed "Amen". I didn't.)

On second thought, skip the intro. Or segue. Or transition. Here's a story:

Tonight I was at the 99 yen shop. I often go there. 99 yen is a little less than a US dollar at the moment. Most of the time, in fact. I decided to stop there because I didn't want to wait 20 seconds for the train to go by. It was in my way. I was listening to loud music on my big camouflage headphones and riding my bicycle too fast in the dark with no helmet and no lights and no rear reflector, like the irresponsible (there's that word again) teenager I sometimes wish I were and occasionally reckon I forgot to be. This, coupled with the fact that I was hungry, fostered a higher than usual level of impatience on my part. La la la anyway I went to the cheap store to get some cheap and unhealthy dinner and some bread and eggs and milk. And avocados.

Not necessarily in that order. Closer to the reverse. Anyway....

Music still loud, groping avocadoes--you want 'em not too firm, not too soft--when I sense someone looking at me. I turn to see a man, slightly eccentric in appearance but nothing too out of the ordinary, about 55, and he laughs and shakes his head as if to say, "Never mind."

"I wonder if he said something and I didn't hear him because of my earmuffs that also happen to be helping me lose my hearing both at this moment and probably permanently to some degree as well?" I think to myself. "Cool." I resume groping.

"Blah blah blah blah! Ha ha ha ha ha! Blah blah."

I turn again and this time it is clear that the man is talking to, or at, me. So I smile and remove the speakers from my head.

"Abokado!! He he he. Beri chipu! He he he. 100 yen! He he."

Then I said, in Japanese, "Uh, yeah. Heh." He seemed satisfied and went merrily walking along the aisle, recounting the exciting experience to some twenty-somethings looking at spaghetti sauce. "I said 'Avocado' to that foreigner! He he." I can only assume he had just left the karaoke bar upstairs and the whiskey was helping him find amusement in the most mundane and inane. Or maybe he was insane. In any case I found my avocadoes and other items and made a fast escape.

That type of thing doesn't happen often, but when it does it reminds me that I am even weirder here than I was where I came from. Weirdness begets weirdness it seems. Those better be good avocadoes.

Last night I ordered takoyaki (octopus fried bread balls) from an outdoor stand and specifically asked the man with the pan not to sprinkle seaweed flakes on top. He did. I told him that's ok I can still eat it, no problem. He apologized and gave me two oranges for my trouble. It was nice of him. They were expensive oranges. (It was an octopus ball and orange stand. Wicked combination.) They looked delicious. They weren't. Very dry. Did he know that when he gave them to me? I think not, but... fruits with peels... very tricky. You never know what you're gonna get. The octopus balls were good, though. Except for the seaweed, of course.

My knee really hurts and I don't know why. How irritating. It is like it is bruised but as far as I know I never did anything to bruise it. Maybe I had another kung-fu dream and just don't remember.

On Sunday I met with a friend and we were walking around Kobe looking for a used bookstore. I had a map but it wasn't great. WIth some effort, and help from strangers, we finally managed to find it. It took us about an hour.

The store was closed.

But that is not the punchline. The punchline is that when I again referred to the book with the map that I had with me all along and had looked at numerous times, I found written very clearly, "Closed on weekends."

Another example of absentmindedness affording adventure. And annoyance.

"Hack Rambler you are rambling! More frequency, less verbosity!" I (don't) hear an inaudible voice saying to me....

Oh yeah and if you made it this far that is a picture of me at a Buddhist temple wearing a Buddhist priest's robes and holding his prayer beads. They are carvings of human skulls.