I think I swore too much in this.

So I went ahead and did it.  I turned 28, just for all of you y’hear?  Just because I’m such a good friend and I didn’t want you all to think that while you were getting older that I was retaining my youth in abundance.

So I did it, all right?  I’m twentyfuckingeight.

That means my 18th was 10 years ago.  Not only am I legitimately allowed the free use of, “yeh, that was about 10 years ago” in natural conversations, but I am allowed them in conversations referring to myself as an adult (technically) ten whole fucking years ago. Sigh.  Remember my 18th?  It was grrreat.

I think my mum feels worse because I’m her youngest.  Not that she’s even old.  She’s positively spritely.  Her energy is pretty terrific considering she’s been dealing with 3-5 year olds her entire adult life, as well the brood she made herself, and the brood we have gone on to make.

Yikes.  If you have hunnersa weans, it’s more than possible that you will end up with hunnersa grandweans, aye?  At least none of them live with you mum, think of poor Kyoko and Huni…

Yesterday was a derishous birthday sushifest at home.  Hats aff and thunderous applause to Huni for creating a feast of roll yer ain sushi fit for kings. Kaz surprised me with a cake too, a beautiful chocolatey goodness cake pretty much based on the one I made him in Glasgow in 2009 just after Anna was born.  He forgot the baking powder though, and the icing was just sugar and chocolate (I think we all have diabetes now…) so when I was attempting to cut the fucker, Kyoko was getting her knickers a twist about her guid china plate the cake was on.  Quite rightly so, because the icing was definitely one to serve with a cool confident smile…and then chainsaw the shit out of to serve.

Despite requiring heavy artillery to crack open, the cake is amazin’.  Pure rich and brownie-esque.  Pure amazin’.  If fact, sweetheart was so proud of it, he snapped it and had it up on facebook before I even knew of its existence.  I made myself dinner tonight all on ma tod because Kaz is working at nights for a few more weeks and so I constructed a leafy, garlicky, noodly delight that actually ended up making me feel a wee bit sick.  Kinda gutted about that part really, cos it was ded guid.  So, I ate some more cake to make myself feel better, and hey, it did just that.  So getitrightupye greens.

O shit, I didn’t mean that greens…I fucking love greens and shit.  My dinners sometimes look like they’re still growing.  And tonight’s was a pure “Mon the Hoops” on a plate.  So I don’t know why I ended up feeling a wee bit sick.  Maybe my body just wanted more cake?

That must have been it.

Aye, so, tomorrow is a karaoke warble and I’m really looking forward to it.  Obviously I am a giant cliche wanting to sing karaoke and eat fucking sushi on my birthday but I don’t care.  Sushi is delicious.  And karaoke is fun.  And I don’t get to do it very often despite living in Japan, so I will goddamn sing on my birthday and you will all like it. Any requests?

Kaz has been working evenings and I need to pick him up, so that means that I’ve not been drinking at all for weeks, and this means that when I do get my grubby mitts on the vodka and Canadian Club that we’ve found at bargain prices, then I’ll be a one can dan and crooning in all seriousness thinking that I’m just.that.good.

And then I’ll fall asleep or fall over or cry.  Because that’s what happens when you are a responsible driver and your bevvy tolerance falls to below that of your 18 year old self…We’ll see.  We’ll see.

Just to change the subject, I feel like Anna is growing like a weed.  I swear she’d grown in the night last night and when I haul her out of her cot in the mornings it’s like a new version of the “harrruuumph/heeeeave/yoisho” noise comes out.  Her vocabulary is expanding at a rate of naughts as well and I will let you think about what it is she actually says when she’s trying to say, “fork”.  Kyoko’s head whipped around when she heard her in the kitchen the other morning…”why is she saying that?   Why did you teach her that?”

–Eh…wisnae me!

(smirk smirk cos it’s funny as fork so it is.)

I just don’t draw attention to it and then agree with Anna, “yes Anna that is a fork, you’re right!”

I was directed to youtube the other night to the Jamie Oliver food revolution show he’s done in the U.S.   The weans there didn’t (or t.v. made them appear to not) know what the names of some basic fruits and veggies were and that is quite rightly horrific.  Anna shouts out all the stuff in her bowl and she’s 19 months old.  She screeches like a banshee in the supermarket fruit&veg aisle because it’s what she knows.  She likes eating so she does.  Oor Anna loves her grub.  I wonder who she gets that from?

Nae cake fur Anna though.  Nae diabetes fur her.

No pics this post, don’t hate me.  I’ll get some up soon enough.  Kaz the superhero got me a hard-drive so I can finally free up some space on this wee laptop of mine and not feel so cautious about plugging in the old camera in fear of sirens and flashing lights, “your computer is too fucking full you fool, empty it.  NOW!” Or something along those lines.

So I will endeavour to upload more pics in the future.  Yakusoku.

Kuuuurighst…I’ve not even read this back, you can edit them after posting, right…?

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Hair today.

Sigh.  It’s not a good place to start, but really, have you seen this?

Why would I willingly post this?

Do I look sad enough here?  Because really I am.

I like to blame summer because all summer my hair is scraped off my face in attempt to remain that wee bit cooler.  I also feel that my hair falls out more in the summer.  Does anyone else get this?  Are my hairs the only ones who cannot stand the summer heat and humidity in Japan?

Last year I thought that it was because I’d just had a baby and that all Mawfaces go baldy.  What’s my excuse this summer?  Is it the same excuse I have for still being a fatty?

Dear O dear, why all the self-deprecation?

Ehhh it’s because you’re still a fatty with crap hair?

Anyway, enough about me and more about me.  Today we went to the park where some people played football, but I did not.  I remained in the wind and achieved a lovely fan-like hair effect that I am thus duly complaining about alongside the female pattern baldness. If you do not think that the above picture gives me enough crap credit, then I could apologise, but I’d still be the one with crap hair that now grovels.

I haven’t had a haircut since I was preg-faced, so that’s over a year and a half ago.  Brushing my locks I’d say is a weekly event (if you lost as much hair as I did when doing this simple task, you’d make it a weekly event too.)  And the summer always brings out my follicle deficiencies.  And maybe over a decade hair dyeing plus the added 6 or 7 years my locks were knotted together all account for why I think that my hair is a bit crap right now.

Does my hair looked stressed?

I like that my hair is getting so long again.  I don’t like that if falls out all over the place.  Are any other long-haired lassies (Eli this means you) experiencing the drama of a long haired balding?

Kaz is already lamenting his own loss.  Anna will be able to recognise both of her parents on school days as we will both be slap-heading our way over to pick her up. Maybe I should get the baldy man shampoo. They say stress helps the old hair loss.  I’m so stressed that my hair is shit and I cannot afford transplants, a haircut to lessen the mess or even shampoo refills.  We are running out you know. On another note, I baked scones yesterday and they were really nice.

Kaz whipped the cream.

I knew I’d be needing some sort of tea and cake situation around 3 o’clock, so I had to make ’em otherwise I’d be out scavenging for some kind of inexpensive tea accommodating treat.  And home-made scones taste better than anything that comes already wrapped in plastic.

Anna has just this minute finished a wee snack and taken herself off to put the wrapper in the bin and then say, “bye-bye”. Just to clarify, our bin sits on top of a chest of drawers (classy, I know) and has a lid on it.  It’s technically a bright pink lidded bucket that keeps any particular nappy smells inside.  (Even when you flush the jobbies down the loo, nappies still smell wee bit.)  We moved the bin up there because when she was a bit younger, she’d happily go rifling through it (boggin, I know).   So now it has been proven that she has learned about rubbish and what not.

(If Kaz has his way he’d teach all of the world about litter.  He in fact has been punched by a youth in a conbini car park for asking the runt to pick up his litter.  The other night he did it again to some fat old salaryman that dumped his chicken wrappers right in front of our house as he was shoving them in his lazy pie-hole.  He told the man that he’s a grown-up and there isn’t really an excuse for littering.  The fatso got angry but thankfully didn’t punch him.)

Anyway, Anna is the greatest and we shall bow down to her superb litter skills.  She’s amazing.  And is far better than scones and tea and good hair put together (which would make an awful afternoon snack come to think of it).

So I think I should not taint (haha “taint”) this post entirely with me whinging about crap hair and then boasting about my fantastic daughter, I’ll tell you all about my wee class too.  I’ve started a little class for mums and babies.  Anna and I have it in the community centre near our litter-free house and so far it’s been a lot of fun.  If you know anyone in the Oita area that would like to get involved in English song&playtime, then just let me know.  I teach the mums some easy peasy songs and nursery rhymes with movements and gestures and lots of love and laughter until the kids are showing a bit of restlessness.

(The class is for up to 2 year olds, so their attention span can be about 30 mins if you’re lucky.)  We have a break and snack-time and there are plenty of toys to play with as well as each other.  We can use the community centre for 2 hours and I charge 1000yen for the maw n wean combo, so mothers can use that time to practice their English with me too.  All in all, it’s a good deal and a lot of fun, so get all yer maw n weans to the Hanazono Kouminkan every Monday morning 10-12 so I can afford to get a haircut…

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Rest assured.

That’s it, I’ve done it.

Have fully indoctrinated the wean.  If by indoctrinated, you think I mean,lovingly administered care and attention and all motherly duties to the fullest extent that she willingly uttered (the garbled Anna version of those 3 words)

“haufooo” (followed by a massive cheezer.)

Then yes, I’ve done it.

She loves me folks.  She really really loves me.  I know this because she told me so.

A full “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS!” (except not, quite so manly) was emitted from my cakehole the other night at bedtime when she said it.  And then she said it again today with the aforementioned cheezer.

I understand that this post is admittedly, from the word go, a shmaltzfest and what-not, but I had a vodka tonight as well as receiving an nice email from my own Maw and let’s face it, I think that my Maw is amazing.  So I’m all about the cheddar for a minute or two.

Mum reminded me that next year, her and my Dad will have been married for a whole forty fucking years.  Now obviously she didn’t swear because she’s the type of Maw with a telephone voice so she wouldn’t have and I clearly added that in myself because I am far more coarse than her.  But aye, forty fucking years of marriage.

If that doesn’t deserve a huge hale n hearty, then what does?

My amazing Maw also sent me a supercarepackage that I received today.  It’s amazing how one can get so exceedingly happy about receiving toothpaste, unfancy skincare products, Asda pants and sudocrem bum cream in the post.  I’ll let you decide who the bum cream was for.

(cough, it’s obviously for Anna.)

I was very happy and eternally grateful indeed, for it must have cost a small fortune to post being laden with lotion and bum cream and everything.  So thank-you Mum, thank-you very much!

Kaz skulked out again tonight, (he didn’t so much as skulk as I like to use the term, skulk) he went to play futsal.  After he left I managed to get into a conversation with Auntie Huni about sodding life insurance.  Yawn.  I don’t know how it happened, God bless her, but also God bless vodka too.

She worries a lot, and she worries about things like life insurance and that neither Kaz nor I have any.  She says that 95% of Japanese people, young and old, have life insurance.  Yeeeech.  What do you make of that?

I cannot believe that statistic.  That’s a lot of life insurance.  And yet she was adamant.  It’s hard because there’s always a language barrier in our conversations as well as a massive lifestyle barrier (Kaz and I Vs. Baba and Auntie Huni, grudgestyle…taps aff…strip tae tha waist n fightlikeaman!) but really, is she onto something?

I am not the best planner.  Am I naive and ridiculous to think that at aged 27 going on 28 it’s ok to not have life insurance?  I know that I can be very stubborn, but I also know that she worries too much, and regardless of who worries (Huni, my Maw or Paw) I feel that if you worry that much and think about so much, then you’re going to make it happen.

So that’s my excuse for not worrying about things like that.  But crap, she worries that we don’t have life insurance.  If there’s someone out there worrying like that for us then we might as well crawl under a rock because I don’t want that stress bringing on any of the unfortunate life events that I don’t already bring on myself. Yet I know that she does it out of love and that, I do, 100% respect.  I just wish she’d lighten up a bit y’know, smoke a bifter or something 😉

Maybe I still just think I’m a teenager and that life insurance doesn’t apply to me.   Maybe I’ve just only got an 18 month old daughter and I still know absolutely nothing about parenting because my daughter cannot yet reason with me or question me fully and I’ve yet to experience the full wrath of the teen, pre-teen, tween or any other childhood age I’ve failed to mention.

Either way, bring it on. N that.

Mibs aye.

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Nae regrets.

Kaz slunk out after dinner to the pachinko parlour in our front garden (yes we live in the car park of a gambling den) to read some manga and smoke.  He didn’t even gamble, he just read the comics and came home reekin’.   Then he sat and tried to explain to me about the comic he was reading.  I listened, honestly, I did…something about samurai or something…

Apparently there’s a typhoon coming.

Watch out Kyushu!

I didn’t even know about it, but up on the 15th floor today when the wind was rattling the windaes and my student said, “there’s a typhoon coming”, it was then that I got my first clue.

Look alive people!  Shut the doors, barricade them!   Lock up your cats and  stockpile the goddamn hijiki, there’s a typhoon coming!   If it’s like the last one, and I think it might even be tamer, then the weather will be worse in Glasgow right now than any typhoon in little Oita.   I remember  some years ago when Park was in North Carolina and some hurricane hit and we were all, “ooooh a hurricane, holy shit, was it mental?”

And he was like, “naaaah, it was like Wednesday in Scotland.”

Grim man.  We are hardcore when it comes to shitey weather it seems.  However at least we acknowledge that other places have weather too.  (Ahem, Japan.)

I haven’t even checked the weather, how irresponsible of me.  I just got a wee bit wet around the foot area earlier today in the old havaianas.  Still wearin’ em but.  Still wearin’ em.

Kaz is now cursing the tinterweb for being slow.  Maybe it’s the typhoon?

I’m just thinking about pachinko again,  you know that I’ve never actually set foot inside one of those places and I’ve lived in Japan since 2006?  I even did a stint in Nagoya the (scoff!) “birthplace” of pachinko.

Ummm, isn’t it American?

Never mind, Nagoya needs more reasons to go there anyway, I mean, having 5 Louis Vuittons located within walking distance of each other isn’t quite enough, is it?  That’s something else quintessentially Japanese that I haven’t done, I haven’t pauperized myself to own some mediocre looking brand item, or made my boyfriend buy it for me or I won’t talk to him again.  Maybe he’d like that though…

I have also, ehhhhhh, not sure how to put this, don’t judge me too harshly because you know that this shit actually doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things,

but,

(deep breath)

I have never been to Kyoto.

So gettitroundye Kinkakuji.

But with this trusty photo, you'll all think I have...

Christ, even my Maw n Paw have been to Kyoto.  Whit a riddy.

I’ll go one day.

Probably.

This all makes me remember that I’ve never been to an Edinburgh Festival or a Hogmanay Street Party back in ze fajerland.  Maybe I just don’t  care much for the stuff you’re really supposed to do when you live somewhere.

Mibs it’s that.

My accomplishments so far then would appear to be

a) one immensely fun Fujirock 2007

b) actually travelling all the fucking way to Mount Fuji in a hungover state after said festival to climb the beast.  My first and only mountain.  (So far.)

Yup I think that is about it.  I’ve gotten into some hellishly good fun drinking sessions with fellow idiots in Gifu, Nagoya, Matsuyama(?), Osaka and Tokyo and I think that is about the gist of my life here so far.

Och no Aimee, don’t forget the boabie festival.  Don’t ever forget that.

I think I might be being too hard on myself.  I did, after all, meet Kaz and have Anna.  And that is better than anything the likes of Kyoto has to offer.  I mean, who cares about maikos and culture and shit, the city is in an insufferable weather valley for feck’s sake.  Bleeeaaaauuurgh.

Kaz is trying to get to grips with his iphone.  So far he can play the drums, pianer and xylophone on it, as well as the star wars light sabre app thing.  Guid times.


Posted in Oita living | 2 Comments

Postie Postie

I love getting things in the post.  Love it.  Especially when it’s my new laptop charger and I am officially back to using my own wee white iBook again!  I mean, obviously I’m incredibly grateful to Kaz for letting me use his big black macbook in the interim, but I’m glad, so very very glad to have it back!

Today Kaz had a man-flu day or whatever.  He was tired and grumpy and stayed in bed all day.  Or, at least all morning because I just took Anna and jumped ship of the grumps to let him have some peace and quiet.

Anna is such a wee Daddy’s girl that it takes serious distracting for her to leave him alone.  I managed to for a while this morning after breakfast and then I stupidly closed my eyes for 2 minutes lounging on her Micky Mouse mat covered tatami and she took the opportunity to think, “Mummy down! Mummy down!  I have the freedom to desecrate this entire pack of pampers wipes”.  (cue evil toddler laugh.)

All over the floor they were, every single one.  At least she didn’t disturb the snoozing grump that was in the next room though.  Phew.  Yikes it was so hot today too.  I find it pretty odd that it can still be 30 degrees yet it feels like summer is on the way out already.

I mean, I know that it’s September and therefor according to the extreme seasons declarations of Japan (“does your country have 4 seasons?” please note the foreigners puzzled expression before answering this question. “Eh, yes.”) that summer is officially over and the boots and scarf wearing can commence in earnest.  It just doesn’t feel like it’s over.  And yet it does.  How confusing, sorry!  I am pretty sure that I will still be wearing my yella havaianas until the leaves change.  (Gettitupye Park.)

It’s hard to be passionate about shoes in a country that does not cater for your size.  My feet are not especially boat-like.  They are not.  It’s just that I am taller than all of the male and female population (Kaz is taller, but he is Korean in case you didn’t know, so the racist trucks hate our entire family, just to be clear.) dakara, it’s impossible to find shoes in my size that are not for men.  So I must love and cherish belts and bags and scarves instead.  Saying that, I am skint and have not spent a yen on such items in about 47 years.  Or at least since Scotland where I felt the need to stock up on sale items from h&m…

Ironically, I really quite like fashion blogs.  Recently I like all blogs to be honest so send me your favourite blog links please!  I would like to take this moment to thank Sergelyne Meance of freebell and the Hub hall of fame for constantly posting the Sartorialist on her facebook page and opening my peepers to auld Milano fashionistas and the like.  Love, love, love it.  I have neither the money nor the time to be so dedicated to fashion, but it interests me all the same.  I saw this pic today and I liked how he kept the other girl in the background of this shot.

The Sartorialist

I have seen a million of those burds this summer wearing that exact same get-up.  I wonder if he did it on purpose?  I haven’t looked at the many many comments his super famous and popular blog receives so I bet that it’s been mentioned already, but it just struck me today and it kind of gives me comfort that people are gunning for the individual sense of style.

Anyway, I have digressed like a bastart.  It’s still hot as shit and it’s “autumn”-I think that was my point.  And Kaz has just given me his wonder mixi update that it’s been the hottest summer for 113 years.  WOWZA!  This has sparked a slight debate about global warming and just how selfish we all are…

But, ehhh we still only put the aircon on at night.   Honestly, we do.  I’ve heard that it’s a generational thing and only the auld yins do that so I suppose we got that habit from Kaz’ maw.  I kinda stick to it seeing as it’s her house.  It has to be really insufferable for me to wap that cooler on in the daytime (I know that it’s hotter during the day, honestly, I do).  I think we just feel like a good auld gaman will really mould us as people.  Or something.

So Kaz was snoozing today and I grabbed ma wean an dunna bolt.  (I carefully placed her in her car-seat in the fully air-conditioned car and drove away with due care and attention.) I have barely driven around this place despite having lived here since March, so it was a good opporchancity to explore wee bit.

Did I?

Did I hell.  I took Anna to some free air-con and kids play area in the local department store/shopping centre.  She had a right good stoat about and played with everything there was to play with and scared the local weedy wee girls who have never in all their days seen anything like our wee Anna and her absolutely unforgiving lack of shyness (an alien concept round these parts).  I also think that she had a touch of ADHD today, or was just over-stimulated with the abundance of things to play with.  And not a tamagochi in sight…

I don’t know exactly if this is worth mentioning, (is any of it?) but we also had some of the good stuff, yep you guessed it, the edible brown algae was in our lunch today.   And it was lovely too.  Just need to learn how to cook it myself now.  Must really try to get as much of the arsenic out of it.  Gads.

Kaz just went outside and took a photo of a giant spider that was scaling the wall of the house.  I’ll not post it though.  Instead I’ll just tell you that we found a ghecko scaling the wall of our kitchen today.

Isn’t that cuter?

Winches wae tongues xXx

Posted in Summer | 5 Comments

If my Nihongo was better

If my Nihongo (Japanese) was better, I wonder if I would have made more friends here already?  Would the ability to talk to the auld toothless wummin in the supermarket who witter on relentlessly to, and about Anna make my life any better?  I know that if I was better at Nihongo I could converse more freely with Kaz’ maw and sister, yet somehow ignorance is definitely bliss, sometimes.

If my Nihongo was better I would probably join mixi.  There they would send me news updates and I could try to better understand the Japanese media’s view on things like pointless celebrities and actual news stories.   However I seriously doubt that my already full to the brim internet social scene (HA!) needs another networking site.  At least I would get to look up things that I had no idea had happened.  That story above that I linked about the Tornado festival is damn scary.  Although scary seems like such a puce word really.  From what I understand, Russian Islamic terrorists are targeting the major cities more and more and the outcome of this is a rise in popularity or far right groups and consequently here in Miass, a 14 year girl was stabbed to death.  I understand how very very grim of me it is to bring this up here and now, but it’s so shocking to me.  I live in a bubble and I get shocked so easily.  I don’t fully understand nor even watch the news here.  I think it’s even worse than Scotland Today. (Scotland, Scotland, Scotland, Red Squirrels, Alex Salmond, Scotland, Scotland, Scotland.)  I don’t even know that if I could one hundred percent understand what the newscaster was telling me, would I be interested or plain irked.  If anyone has an understanding of the Japanese coverage of the Beijing olympics, or Vancouver winter olympics, or even the recent world cup, then maybe you understand my conundrum.

It can be pretty much compared to the English media during the world cup.  Pretty much.  Although without Alan Hansen.  Which is a bonus.  I mean, I didn’t even watch much of the Beijing coverage, but I can tell you honestly, that I think I saw footage of Kitajima Kosuke winning his millions of medals more times than I mopped my sweaty brow that summer.

Look how happy he is though, how could I not want to watch...

And Japan is a sweaty, sweaty, sweaty pile of sweat in the summer, yet mostly they just drink tea then wonder why they get headaches.

If my Nihongo was better then maybe I would want to see the footage just as many times as they showed it.  I mean, if Scotland ever (heaven forbid) won the world cup, what kind of a frenzy would the country be whipped into?  What kind of place would the telly be?  How would we ever, ever, ever learn to do anything in the sports media again without mentioning the fact that our wee Scotland went and won the world cup?

I already realise that this blog has far too many questions.  Short of sounding like Iggy Pop look-alike Carrie effing Bradshaw, (I know she’s not a real person by the way) I’ll address this issue by stating that this post is not an attempt at journalism.  It is a mere meandering of what my life might be like if I was indeed better at Nihongo.

I would overhear the most mundane of conversations.  I would have to be more polite in another language than I am in my own.  I would spend longer in conversations because I would know that it’s improper to be so direct,  that man in the bus station would perhaps be less of an arsehole although I doubt it because he just doesn’t like that I’m taller than him and not from round here.  I would read the paper-would I though?  I would peruse more sites online and order from them, albeit money-willing.  I would be better equipped to help out the fresh off the boaters who grace the Oita shores with their foreign queries and worries.  If I moved to the states I could get that job I saw translating computer games into English.  (Naw!)  I could try and get another type of job instead of the Engrish sensei jobbies and then see what real racism is like in this country.  I could get to grips with all the things on the shelves in the supermarket and really use them for what the manufacturer intended.  I mean, let’s really transform this edible brown algae into a dish!

If my Nihongo was better I could impress you all or bore the shit out of you.  I know that I love it when Maz gets her Espagnol on.  And she is the one who chides me most of all for not being better at this than I am.  So I dedicate this post to you Maria.  You already have a Spanish enough sounding name though, so that’s not fair.  Who is to know that you’re Stevenston born and bred?

Kaz just had a midnight ramen snack.   He shuddered when I told him he should at least put some vegetables in it.  He refuses to sully the good name of dried carbohydrates and powdered salty chemicals with mere nutrients.  If my Nihongo was better then maybe I would be the same way.  But I doubt it.

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Rookie mistake.

Volcano is on the telly, again.  I shit you not, it’s fully dubbed in Nihongo and that makes it even more hilarious yet horrific.  So far there has been some sexy Kangol hat wearing and a young(ish) Tommy Lee Jones attempting to flirt with some hot young Swedish type that would never be a) a seismologist or whatever it is she is, b) into him.  Seeing this on the tv now and knowing that it was also on about a year ago (because we watched, O yes) almost detracts from the incredibly bizarre yet compelling set of ads that he does for Boss Coffee.

See, I told you.

Kaz just turned it over and there are now men dressed in white jimbei on a tuna sushi challenge.  They are traveling the length and breadth of Tokyo sporting comedy giant sushi hats and attempting to eat a serving of sushi at each restaurant for 31 consecutive restaurants and, if they manage this feat…they will receive 51million yen between them.  “What’s that?” you cry, “only tuna when there are so many other delicious things on the menu! Why that is INDECENT!”  Or something like that.  Bear in mind that there are many ways to skin a cat and eat tuna in a sushi restaurant .

So it’s not thaaaaaat indecent.  It’s not like there are D-list celebrity comedians on the telly whoring their bellies for an insane amount of cash whilst dressed as pure fannies.  O no.

Yesterday was the day for the unexpected beach visit.  Kaz has befriended some fresh of the boat JET teachers whilst out on the piss on Friday and invited us all along on their outing.  So it was only while we were on the way there that we found out it was not only a fire festival in the hills, but a beach and bbq before that.  Unfortunately we were absolutely ill prepared.  How disappointing, you all know how I love to overpack too.

We got to the beach and yesterday was windy as hell but still so very beautiful.  The road there was a winding knotted shoelace of a road with such drops that would turn your stomach and pop your ears all very quickly.  Apparently it was quite similar to the main thoroughfare between Dublin and Cork, but I can’t confirm this personally.  When we emerged from the Dublin-Cork road we were dropped right onto the Utsuki coastline and couldn’t help but gawp at the ocean.  It’s peppered with a few tree covered islands where we were and it all seemed pretty tropically dream-like to me.   Having no speedos to my name, and neither the front nor gumption to go in in my pants and bra, I was confined to the beach, beer and bbq area.  SuperDaddyKaz took Anna in to splash about in her giant sea-water swollen nappy.  She loves the beach and the water and shower after.  She’s our little water-baby.  She managed to make friends with another wee boy and the party of Engrish teachers we had gate-crashed only were mildly put off by our baby chat just once.  It’s so instinctive to share experiences with others in similar circumstances, and you either have a wean to talk about for days, or you don’t.  So it can get awkward if you don’t take note of your surroundings and at least try to stop wittering about your cherub when you know the others are just. not. that. interested.

I think we made friends yesterday, at least I know that Anna did.  So that’s nice.   It’s refreshing to meet people that are so very brand new to Japan albeit in a very different position to me right now.  Them were the days.  One thing about yesterday though, I am enraged by my idiocy and downright Britishness.  I know what the sun is like in Japan.  I know what my skin is like.  I know that even though it feels cool because of the wind, it can still burn the shit out of your peelly wally Glasgwegian skin.  Sigh.  You can guess what my rookie mistake was then, can’t you?

Don’t worry though.  Mawface ensured that Anna, of course, remained entirely peelly wally.

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