Oh darling!
I only have one thing to say: カッコfucking良い. I'm not sure what is, but something out there is def. pretty すげえ-tastic right now.
So I've pretty much given up on getting a job for the two months I'm back in Mass. I'll be off to Cali at the beginning of August anyway so I might as well spend the time I do have watching shitty TV, translating god-awful shows like NANA, and writing letters in pink pen to my classmates in Japan.
I walked downstairs a few moments ago and there was my almost-brother Michael, and I was like "Michael!!" and we hugged and then I was done and tired of the interaction so I came back upstairs to e-mail my Korean penpals.
왜 한국인 펜팔에게서의 메일이 이렇게 길까~?! 라고일까 왜 얼마나 공부해도 능숙 하지 않아??
This has all got to pay off someday.
I never have anything to say in English. My Japanese journal is packed though. I'm amazing. I comment on random Japanese people's journals and then never look at them again.
こっさんって知ってますかあーーーーい?!
So, being the conformist I am, I think I shall be going to see the Da Vinci Code tomorrow with some of my peeps. I love being with my friends, I really do, but..I'm tired of the drama. Oh goodness gracious, it's so hard watching them grow up..
I brought my scrapbook from Japan to art class on Tuesday night to work on and I found myself staring at the pictures of Sarah and I for ten minutes. I thought about the night that we made these terrible pizzas ourselves for her host family and we had to walk to and from the store three times in the rain because we kept on forgetting things, and I met Youji for the first time and I forgot who he was the next morning, and that same night we went to the festival (still in the rain) and wrote cards with our names and numbers to hand to Japanese guys and I won a BB gun and we got our names written in kanji in pink sugar and then we stayed up all night watching Aviator..
Anyways, the point is that in retrospect that was one of the best nights of my life. I try not to get too sentimental over Japan or bug other people about it but man..I miss my babies. I miss my Japanese babies. I miss Mamiko and her low self-esteem. And my dorky exchange student friends.
Hey. Look at that. There really is an extra hand holding a knife in The Last Supper. I have not been lied to.
And so I can sleep in peace.
So I've pretty much given up on getting a job for the two months I'm back in Mass. I'll be off to Cali at the beginning of August anyway so I might as well spend the time I do have watching shitty TV, translating god-awful shows like NANA, and writing letters in pink pen to my classmates in Japan.
I walked downstairs a few moments ago and there was my almost-brother Michael, and I was like "Michael!!" and we hugged and then I was done and tired of the interaction so I came back upstairs to e-mail my Korean penpals.
왜 한국인 펜팔에게서의 메일이 이렇게 길까~?! 라고일까 왜 얼마나 공부해도 능숙 하지 않아??
This has all got to pay off someday.
I never have anything to say in English. My Japanese journal is packed though. I'm amazing. I comment on random Japanese people's journals and then never look at them again.
こっさんって知ってますかあーーーーい?!
So, being the conformist I am, I think I shall be going to see the Da Vinci Code tomorrow with some of my peeps. I love being with my friends, I really do, but..I'm tired of the drama. Oh goodness gracious, it's so hard watching them grow up..
I brought my scrapbook from Japan to art class on Tuesday night to work on and I found myself staring at the pictures of Sarah and I for ten minutes. I thought about the night that we made these terrible pizzas ourselves for her host family and we had to walk to and from the store three times in the rain because we kept on forgetting things, and I met Youji for the first time and I forgot who he was the next morning, and that same night we went to the festival (still in the rain) and wrote cards with our names and numbers to hand to Japanese guys and I won a BB gun and we got our names written in kanji in pink sugar and then we stayed up all night watching Aviator..
Anyways, the point is that in retrospect that was one of the best nights of my life. I try not to get too sentimental over Japan or bug other people about it but man..I miss my babies. I miss my Japanese babies. I miss Mamiko and her low self-esteem. And my dorky exchange student friends.
Hey. Look at that. There really is an extra hand holding a knife in The Last Supper. I have not been lied to.
And so I can sleep in peace.