I found a ¥680 copy of Terrence Malick's Badlands at the DVD shop by our apartment. Talk about scattershot, this veritable classic was wedged between Kindergarten Cop and Weekend at Bernie's. I still haven't figured out their shelving method.

The Atomic Family, Bicycle in a Bush, School Assembly, and King of Sendai.

The 18 Year Old Me and What He Wants

We've had rain lately, a cold heavy rain that has seemingly washed away the oppressive humidity of summer. I'm glad about this for a number of reasons, the most insistent being a husky nostalgia I keep in reserve for this time of year. I get a certain high from the blowing leaves and overcast skies, but it's tethered by a kind of autumnal sadness, the weight of longing and memory. I say this knowing full well how cliché and overly-emotional it sounds, but let me indulge myself here. My friend Josh sent me a message the other day titled simply "Lest We Forget" and containing a link to the first entry of a certain online journal I once haunted. Bored, I read the first year's worth of entries, beginning in early November, I believe, before literally feeling like I might throw up on my laptop. That me, 18 and away from home for the first time, was utterly selfish and co-dependent, with a put-on introspection that resulted in long-stretches of brooding silence followed by petty bursts of unsubstantiated wrath and/or affection towards whomever happened to be around. I'm embarrassed by this pre-adult version of myself, shamed to see how he burned friendships and wasted time, but I admire the depth of his passion and his willingness to prod around inside of his brain. Granted, he systematically hyperbolized the findings, but there was, without a doubt, some searching going on. And I realized the other day, walking past the milk-tea flooding banks of the Hirose, that this desire to search is what's missing from my life now. Meeting and marrying Julianna was easily the best thing that has ever happened to me, but I recognize my overdependence on the comforts of such a stable relationship. In the same way that it's easier to sit down and watch a movie than to sit down and write a story, it's a great deal more comfortable for me to rest in this amazing love than to pursue my impulse to dissect and deconstruct what makes it work. I often feel like a fat, overfed baby, milk-drunk and satiated to the point of immobility. I let comfort feed my inherent laziness and, as a result, I get nothing done. I don't force myself to work. I don't act, I don't create. Why am I so afraid to write? Why do I ignore what ultimately gives me a great sense of accomplishment? Is my brain turning to tepid pudding? There is a balance here somewhere, but I'm still shuffling weights around trying to find it.

Hoo boy. Enough of that.

I'm at my visit school, Mukaiyama Senior High, right now, and I just finished grading 200 papers from the listening portion of the student's mid-term examinations. I've got a lesson to plan for next Monday, but after that my week is pretty much done. I'm not sure yet what the weekend holds, but Juli and I have talked about going to Nagamachi to watch a movie and do some shopping. Damn comforts.

A Few More Pictures

Little Update and Some Pictures

Once again, my sincere apologies to anyone who has checked in here expecting to find some new news these past two weeks. I simply haven't had the occassion to post anything. Next week students have exams, so I won't be teaching classes and will have plenty of free time to poke around the internet. I'll give a brief rundown for now:

Juli's broken fibula, our foremost concern, is slowly but assuredly healing and she's looking foward to the normalcy of taking showers without plastic bags taped below her knee.

Juli's birthday is today, so send her a message!

I bought a toy camera a few days ago.

I need a hair cut.

That's about it.

There's so much more, really, but I'm not up to processing it right now. Suffice it to say that life is going well here, and that each day I discover something unusual, beautiful, or striking. How about I just post some pictures?

Random Photos, Mostly from the Tanabata Festival

Julianna weathered her surgery like an arctic fishing trawler. Meaning, it was a tough trip but she pulled through admirably. She's currently laid up on the 5th floor of Tohoku Kosai, braving the triple threat of suppositories (which the nurse refers to as "the rocket," complete with explicit hand gestures), sponge baths, and bad hospital food. I'm about to head over there now with some fresh fruit and a few of these delicious pudding cups I've recently discovered. I'll give it to Japan; they've got some great (and cheap) desserts.

Back to the surgery. Everything went well, and the surgery was "very successful" even though it was "more difficult" than the doctors had anticipated. Fortunately, the surgeon had studied at the University of Washington, spoke beautiful English, and was able to quell Julianna's fears with a magical wave of his scalpel. He answered all of her previously unanswered questions, questions that had once riddled the proceedings with a nauseating and ominous sense of mystery. The result was Julianna at her epitome of bravery. Given her fear of all things medical, I was expecting hysteria (just being honest), but as they led her into the operating room she smiled a nervous smile and we exchanged the ubiquitous it's-going-to-be-alright hand squeeze.

I'll have more to write about the surgery later, as I've got to catch the bus to the hospital now. I do want to express my sincere thanks to Miyuki, our newfound friend who served as comforter and translater over the past two days!

If you'd like to get in touch with us, please send an e-mail to our cell-phones: casey@h.vodafone.ne.jp or julianna@h.vodafone.ne.jp. We'd love to hear from you.

Mark your calenders, because it's official: Julianna is scheduled for surgery this Tuesday, sometime in the morning. She's a bit nervous, naturally, so if you get a chance, please e-mail her with a kind word or two. According to Japanese standards, she'll be in the hospital for about a week. Don't worry, I'll load her up with DVDs and good books beforehand.

I went to both the Niko and Ichijoko school festivals today, and I'll get some pictures posted as soon as I can!

Surgery, One Strange Fact, and the Brimming of Possibilities.

Ah, the tragic lament of my luckless wife. New country, new job, broken leg, prospect of surgery. Yes, our friendly orthopedic specialist has recommended a minor operation for Julianna's leg, if you consider the insertion of a metal plate and screws minor. We've sent digital copies of her x-rays to a few American doctors, and we're waiting for second and third opinions before we decide on anything. There's a definate difference in the way such an operation would be handled here. For instance, in America, this would be a simple outpatient procedure, and Julianna would be home, at the latest, the next day. Here, the doctor suggests a week long hospital stay for monitoring. We've also had it explained to us numerous times that Japanese and Americans have entirely different pain thresholds. I have a hard time believing that, but perhaps the stereotype will work in our favor and this notion of over-protective bedrest will evaporate. Though Julianna recognizes she will need rest, she certainly doesn't want to milk the system for sick days, especially needless ones. Here's to hoping surgery will be ruled out and her knee-high hard cast will suffice.

This week hasn't been all drama. I started teaching classes on Monday, and it's been a curious experience. Some classes are wholeheartedly enthusiastic, while others sit in collective silence with downcast eyes. Half the time I feel like Johnny Carson, entertaining the troops, and the other half I get this terrible impression that I'm the dryest speaker in the history of human utterance. I plow forward nonetheless. As part of my introductory lesson, I asked the students to fill out a questionaire asking, among other things, their "best memory" and "one strange fact" about themselves. Let me just say I got some responses I have no business knowing. There are, of course, the random "bad" kids in class, but nothing prepared me for "My sexual tastes is...crazy. I want try some drug in America." Ahem. Well, that one was probably the worst, grammatically too.

While the kids are often stoic, if not downright terrified in class, they exhibit entirely different personas in the hallways or outside school. I get enthusiastic hellos, obviously pondered questions, and these strange buddy-buddy-I don't know you but you're a really tall foreigner-kind of interactions. It's a lot of fun, and I love to see them scrambling for English words they've got stored away somewhere in their stressed and frenzied teenage minds. I don't mean that to sound condescending, either. These kids are most assuredly stressed. When I asked for their best memories, I assumed I would get responses like "playing soccer with my friends," or "going to Australia with my family." Granted, I did get those, but they were in the minority. An overwhelming number of students answered with "passing the entrance exam for this school." What happened to being a kid?

Inside and outside of school, Japan has been brimming with possibilities for me. I'm joining a writing workshop that's being started up by a few new ALTs, and I'm also playing guitar in a band that does Scottish and Irish folk music. There is an amazing sense of internationalization here, as I've made friends with Scots, Irelanders, Aussies, Canadians, and even a Jamaican. It's a small world after all.

Quote of the Night

Julianna, quoting Buster from Arrested Development, in regard to the Japanese workplace: "They allow some nervous crying, but you can tell they don't like it very much."