If America were on crack.
I will bypass the analysis of "Capitalism on Crack" in Japan and just talk about what I did this weekend becaaause...
GUESS WHO WAS HERE THIS WEEKEND!?!?
Kathy Cooper-san, Graham-san, and I at Kaminarimon
It's so nice/absolutely frustrating to see my friends move on, get real jobs, and travel the world on business trips even though they've been working for a company for how long now, Kathy? 3 MONTHS!? Bah, humbug!
Kathy is doing very well, btw. She's by now on a plane to Dublin and then going to Paris to visit a friend. Yeah... dislike.
So yeah, Kathy stayed with me on Friday, which was a bit of a doozy seeing as how Graham was supposed to come the very next day. I wanted Kathy to stay longer, of course, but in case you haven't seen my apartment...
IT'S GONNA BE IN THE NEXT BLOG POST!
(Wow, what a great blog post, Wilson!)
So it's rather small, a great bachelor pad, and heck, you could even possibly fathom having two people in it. But three is just... wrong. It's like a tight-knit orgy or something. So Kathy ended up staying with co-workers on Saturday when Graham came, only Graham and I ended up partying until Sunday morning and... well... yadda yadda yadda now I'm extremely jealous of Graham and his ability to pick up the French. Martial art-studying French. Ugh.
BAM! I know what you're all thinking. "Man, that Wilson is a lucky one." But matter of fact is that I am still missing Stanford. Also, death apparently. My dreams thusfar have been comprised of either death or Stanford (not one and the same, fortunately enough). Stanford dreams usually go like this: Me saying bye to a number of friends with misty eyes, asking for forgiveness but I had to make the plane in 30 minutes and farewell! and bam. Waking up on my futon in the middle of the room feeling a bit lonely.
Or these scary death dreams! I've had about 3 already, one including me getting on a plane back to America but in the corridor to the plane a rogue plane crashed through and I blacked out, waking up on my futon to expect myself waking up in a hospital. Or the dream of someone shooting me.
I attribute this all to that ONE earthquake that happened here. My apartment is really pretty, but the sliding doors rattle like no one's business upon the slightest provocation. So when the earthquake happened (a 4, I believe?) I thought the world was ending. I was like "OMFG THIS IS IT! THIS IS THE END!"
Apparently there's a grand earthquake that's overdue for about 50 years now that's supposed to raze Japan to the ground. Huh. Pleeease let it not be 2011!
Apart from all that though I'm loving Japan. People are great, of course, and Japanese people (most of them) see that if you can do *some* Japanese, then they'll speak to you like you're fluent. Great practice! (read: omg please slow down) And then there are the ones who say "Oooh dank u bery maaach for camiiing!" and you're just like "...really?"
But more about Japan, actually a little bit later!
