Onigiriman

There is just too much work. They should have an anti-over-worked-teacher law on the books. I am exhausted. I just finished grading the midterms for my readings in modern Japanese course. Today was the J-Lit in Translation midterm, so I have a brand new stack of exams and essays in front of me. And I just finished making the Literary Japanese midterm for tomorrow, which means another stack.

Not only that, I had to take an online exam yesterday–or was it two days ago? The past two weeks have been a blur. Anyway, I had to read some online material on Human Subject Testing. Yes, you’d be surprised what we do in Japanese language and literature these days. Actually, I am involved in a research project with my colleagues and part of the research requires that we take surveys on the efficacy of our product–a Japanese language textbook. Unfortunately, giving surveys constitute “human subject testing.”

So I had to read this thing called the Belmont Report and a few other online “courses” so we don’t abuse the people we survey… or something like that. I end up staying up all night because my colleague tells me on Tuesday that she has to submit paperwork by Wednesday on the primary researchers, including evidence of completion of the course. I delve into a series of online readings and take a series of online quizzes. Bleary-eyed and exhausted, I finish around 4:30 AM. Luckily, I pass…

… just barely. 75% is passing and I got 78%. I figure I took the course in one sitting and passed it in one attempt, so it’s not too bad. Sure, the score isn’t great, but I can now test human subjects. Hahahahhahaaa.Sounds kinda scary, don’t you think?

So like I was saying. I’ve got all this other shit to do right in the middle of the semester, with midterms and papers literally adhering themselves to my body. And all I can think about is the next J-dorama I’m missing.

I think I’m gonna pass out…Someone catch me.

2007.11.04–1:01, 5.29

Recently, I wrote a bit about how English is difficult for many Japanese. I thought I’d respond to some of the (edited) comments I received.

There are so many different shades of “fluent” that the more proficient I become at Japanese, the more I know what I actually don’t know. If I were to just transplant myself and live here forever (Japan), I think I would need my wife to translate things for me, too (even though I could function quite well on my own, as is the case with your wife, it’s the juicy drama that kills me).
Posted 10/26/2007 2:58 AM by Smart_Bad

Ah, the intelligent man. Indeed, I’ve been trying to learn Japanese since 1972. That’s, what? 25 years? And I swear, I too feel as though the more I learn, the more I realize how much more I have to go. Japanese is wide and deep. As for your Japanese, understanding the juicy dramas will come in time.

there is the research on how we have trouble learning languages after about age twelve or so. or do you think it is more than that?
Posted 10/25/2007 1:02 PM by lightpinksheep

Yes, I think the two hemispheres of the brain completely separate–except for the corpus callosum that connects them. When the brain is still one big lump, information is freely and rapidly exchanged throughout the brain, so language learning–or rather acquisition–is easier. I think that’s the explanation. But as far as Japanese are concerned, learning English goes beyond this. I’ve know people from Japan who have lived in the states for over 50 years and they still never learned English. It is definitely a mystery to me.

My mother has lived in the United States for over thirty years now and has spent most of it working as a registered nurse in the South. Her English is reasonable, but she still has difficulty understanding movies. I’m not sure if it’s accents, slang, uncommon vocabulary, or just listening comprehension, but she has trouble keeping up. The only exception is when we turn on English subtitles in which case she has no problems (I think her reading comprehension is much better and faster than listening). Oh, and she has no problem with medical dramas as well.
Posted 10/25/2007 1:55 AM by SunJun

My wife is not Japanese but her first time in the US was after she married me. When we rent DVD’s, we enable the English subtitles function. When there are no subtitles I translate for her. I’m not sure why English is so hard for Japanese. My mother has been here for 40 years and she still has trouble once in a while.
Posted 10/24/2007 11:15 PM by SammyStorm2

I think working in the US would make a significant difference in one’s speaking abilities. My mother had virtually no English skills until she went to work in an environment where she had to use English everyday. While it was far from perfect, she could understand much more than before. Or at least she seemed to. It was hard to tell if she really understood the Cosby Show, but she laughed at all the right moments. As for M, she also uses the subtitles function, I have learned. When I was running on the treadmill in the basement, the Captions were always on. I’d get off and turn off the Captions because it blocks the lower part of the screen. Can’t read the box score, you know? But the next day, the Captions were back on. What gives? It took me a while to figure out that M was turning it on to watch the Food Channel, or Travel Channel as she exercised. After we catch up on last year’s Heroes, I’m hoping to use the Captions function for this years show. Then I could be a pinch hitter, so to speak. I would explain the parts that were particularly fast or slangy (read: difficult), but leave the rest to the Captions.

Wait a minute…you’re married? Wasn’t it a few months ago that you were infatuated with PW?
Oops, sorry…forgot to introduce myself. I’m a new reader; didn’t mean to jump into the fray with such an accusatory opening, but I just got curious.
Posted 10/26/2007 12:38 AM by amazngrace

New readers are always welcome! So its no big deal if you get mixed up a bit at times. It probably has to do with my writing style and many readers know a lot about me, so I might skim past a lot of the details. Anyway, Yes, I’m married, and have been for seven years. In fact, this is my second go-round. PW was a young lady many of my peers had a crush on back in the 1980s when we were in college. When I first saw the model/TV personality, Marianne, I immediately thought of PW. They don’t look exactly the same, but that’s who I’d point to as a referent. I think Marianne is taller, but I’m pretty sure PW is much smarter.

2007.11.02–1:15, 6.53
2007.11.03–0:46, 3.95

Halloween’s coming.
Halloween’s coming.
Ghosts and goblins too…

It happened again… I was talking to M the other night right before bed. We were ready to go to sleep, just nonchalantly standing in front of each other about a foot apart when suddenly I felt a chill sweep by my arms and the front of my body. Do you know how you feel a chill and get goose bumps when you suddenly see something really gross or scary? Well, that’s exactly what I felt, but I didn’t see or hear anything. It just happened.

“Woah! I just got a chill, as if a really cold wind blew in front of me,” I said rubbing my forearms.

M’s eyes shot up in alarm. “I just felt the same thing, too. Did something or someone walk between us?”

I felt the hair on the nape of my neck stand on end. We both jumped into bed and pulled the covers over our head.

I think I like Thanksgiving better…

I went back to the original layout to test something out. Something strange is happening, and I’m wondering if it’s this new fangled Xanga module layout thingy. Please bear with me.

In the meantime, here is the first senru poem my ather published in a local LA Japanese newspaper called the Kashu Mainichi back in 1938.

無駄話だまって聞いてる無駄話

Idle talk
listens without a word
to idle talk

The poem reflects one of the first things he learned about composing senryu–just copying someone else’s diciton or technique is a waste of effort and time, just as repeating someone else’s idle talk–without adding anything to it–is still idle talk… at least, that’s how he explained it to me.

1:10, 6.11 mi.

I was away from Xanga for quite a while. I mean, I would post every so often, when I had the time and was in the mood, but I it was just post and split–go back to work or to J-dorama or whatever. But I’ve been back now for about that past couple of weeks and I began to realize that Xanga has changed quite a bit. The new layout with modules makes it easier to set up a nice looking page, so I asked about a week ago if I should give my site a face lift. But to a man–and woman, of course–everyone said that my site was fine he way it was.

Sammy: Personally, I think your site is fine. It’s like a trusted brand name, so no reason to change!

Whonose: Don’t change the look, I like the way this looks, stylish and minimalist!

the greatest pip: i’ve always liked the look of your site.

Okay, I get the picture. Actually, I’ve always liked the way my site looks. Duh! I guess that’s why I designed it that way. Images are nice, and so are colors, but to me a blog is a journal and a journal is a journal is a journal. It is for me, textual in nature and the best way to present text is black print on a white background. This reminds me of a story.

On the front of the store, there hung a huge sign that said “Coffee”. There was neither a store name, nor a catchy phrase. On a white background in black, simply COFFEE, that was all. It was also tilted a little bit upward to boot, so it looked just like a letter of challenge facing the sky.

Why anyone would go to the trouble of putting up such a sign was beyond me. The position of the sign was way too high for people walking on the street to catch a glimpse of, and the letters were too big as well. That I notice the sign was due to nothing more than the lucky coincidence of looking up meaninglessly at the sky from the the window of the car per chance at that moment.

We were on the road home from an outing, and were dead tired. My friend who had his hand on the wheel yawned every twenty seconds, and his girlfriend was fast asleep next to him. The ashtray was full, and from the car stereo flowed a Temptations’ song about the difference in temperature between February and May.

“Coffee,” I read out loud.

“Coffee?” my friend said.

“There was a sign that had Coffee written on it”

“Signs like that are everywhere.”

“But on a sign as big as six tatami mats, it simply had Coffee written on it, and it was facing toward the sky,” I objected.

“Bomber repellent,” he said after a yawn. “It’s something like the mark of the Red Cross. No one would do something like bomb a coffee shop. Am I wrong?”

“I guess not,” I said.

So text–as Murakami Haruki suggests in his short story “Coffee”–is open to interpretation. Even something as mundane as a sign with the single word “coffee” can be interpreted subjectively by anyone. I mean, bomber repellant? Hahahahahah. But the key here for me is what identifies text as text: Black letters on a white background.

But back to the original point. I couldn’t help myself. I still had to try the new module based Xanga layout. Everyone else seemed to have such cool looking sites, and I didn’t want to be left out, missing the bus, marginalized. So this is what I came up with!

Black text on white background…

Pretty pathetic, don’t you think? *sigh* Let me know what you think.

1:10; 5.53 mi.

But it’s 4 AM and if I ate anything right now, it would go straight to my waist. I’ve been hovering around the 160 lbs. mark for the past three weekends. M–bless her heart–bought four (4) bags of Doritos last weekend: BBQ Cheddar, Fiery Habanero, Buffalo and Cool Ranch. Okay, actually, I told her that since I lost weight, it would be a nice reward to eat some Doritos while I watched the UCLA game. But four bags? I’ve been munching all week, a little at a time.

Of course, it’s not her fault that I have no… self… control… Ugh. I need someone to tape my mouth shut. Where is Sister Angela Maureen when you need her?

1:20; 6.81 mi.

Yesterday, I wrote about interpreting for Musubichan–protected post: Whonose, you are on my protected list. (If you re a regular reader and a subscriber, leave me a message telling me you want to be added. I think you have to be a Xanga member.)–but I moved the comment here.

I had the chance to hone my interpreting skills. Musubichan had not watched Heroes last season, so we watched a few episodes. Unfortunately, there are no subtitles so I am doing simultaneous translation for three hours straight on Friday and Sunday. I love my wife, but I swear, I am exhausted. Watching TV was not so relaxing.

Well, KENSHIRO commented:

I don’t understand — perhaps I haven’t been reading your blog long enough, or I’ve missed a detail somewhere (probably the latter), but does M understand English? I don’t understand why you had to interpret Heroes.

This is a perfectly legitimate comment, I think. Firstly, Kenshiro has been a reader for quite a while–Thanks for being so loyal. So perhaps you may have missed a detail, but then, maybe I haven’t really written about it as it is rarely germaine to my ramblings. Anyway, Musubichan’s English is not very good. She tries hard and she can comprehend much more than she used to. But TV shows and movies can be difficult to understand. They speak at regular speed and do not wait for the listener to respond. So I end up interpretting.

Now this has nothing to do with M’s intelligence or effort. I’m not sure what it is, but many Japanese are simply unable to master English. I know a ton of them. My mother never really mastered English. Nor did most of my relatives who came to the US after they became adults. Of course, this is not for all Japanese. Most Japanese who have gone to school in the US have mastered a level of English, but I’ve known more than a couple of graduate students who could understand English in their respective fields but significantly less–speaking or listening–in conversations that deviate from their speciatly.

M didn’t go to a college in the US and her first extended stay in the US was after she married me, and she was already 40. I don’t know what it is. I can’t explain it. I know a lot of people who go to foreign lands and master the language to a degree, but for some reason, English for Japanese is a tough nut to crack.

Anybody have a familiar experience? Or know the reason for this?

Keep on keepin’ on–this is also from yesterday’s protected post

Of course, I also ran some–about 15 miles altogether. A few months ago, I would have thought, Forget it! I’m too busy. But not now. Getting and staying in shape has become a priority, so I make it a point to make time. It is more like eating now, a necessity of life. No matter how busy I am, I have to exercise. It is no longer, I’m too busy, I don’t have the time. You make the time, as it is an investment in my future… and my waist line.

0:40, 3.37 mi.

The weekend was very busy. Every year, faculty must submit an individual Annual Report: What classes did you teach; Number of enrollment; What did you publish; What service did you provide; et cetera, et cetera. Well, I got my report back with a response from the new dean, who by all accounts is a good person. But my feedback was less that sparkling. She reminded me that I should pay heed to details such as student evaluations… Huh? Her comment suggested I don’t them, which is patently false. I found out that the department failed to forward them, and now I look bad. And of course, I teach a significant number of courses, but my research and service is “modest”. So, at the recommendation of the Chair, I wrote a… well, not a rebuttal, but a description of the state in which I find myself–over-worked. Of course, I couldn’t write that. I don’t want to sound whiny, and I don’t want to complain, because I’m not. I love to teach and I love my students–well, most of them, anyway. And I don’t mind the work. But the sheer volume I wade through on a daily basis might explain my “modest” productivity elsewhere. I don’t need any violins playing in the background, but I don’t want people thinking I’m a slacker either.

So anyway, I spent the entire weekend working on this response. I wrote it once and it did sound whiny and perhaps a bit rambling and unfocused. So I rewrote it like a paper, then restructured it like a presentation–bullet points and even a pie chart! I’m so proud of myself But this two page document–more like four pages double spaced–consumed my entire weekend…

NOT!

Hahahha. Nah. It did take up a big chunk–like 14 hours? But I did have time to watch my beloved UCLA Bruins stick it to Cal. 30-21. This season has been crazy. Div. II Appalachian State knocks off Michigan, Stanford upset $C and Vandy knocks out South Carolina. Even Notre Dame–that perenial powerhouse–can’t buy a victory… okay, they do have one victory, against… against… against… ucla. This has been an incredibly frustrating season for UCLA fans. I mean, we are good enough to beat Cal, a very good team–certainly better than Notre Dame–but we lose to the otherwise winless Irish. Go figure…

There are times when you know you should not try to overreach. No, I don’t mean to say that one shouldn’t try new things. I am all for challenging yourself. But there are times when you must realize you limitations.

Currently, I am teaching a buttload of classes, but I need to do research. My career depends on it. So I need to make time–stay away from Xanga (its not as though I’ve been spending a lot of time here anyway), turn off the TV (this would actually be big deal), no more football (blasphemy!). Since teaching fewer classes is not really an option for me, I need to cut time elsewhere. It is sad that I will ultimately deny myself leisure time, but I suppose that is the life of an academic coolie–I used this word in class the other day and was shocked that most of the class did not know what it meant! Can you imagine that?

But anyway, I need to realize my limitations and stay within the bounds of what I am able to do. I was reminded of this when I went to the Facebook of a Xanga acquaintance –I found out only recently (like yesterday) that SJ now lives near me and occupies the same campus as I do! Dude, and you don’t even try to contact me?!? I found this out when I visited his Facebook. But I was even more surprised at his ability to wield an aritistic mouse. There is a Facebook app called Gaffiti that I have on my page where I have drawn a self-portrait of sorts. As you can see, it is quite rudimentary, but I was proud nonetheless that I could even draw a straigh line… well sorta.

But before I patted myself on the back, I should have seen what others can do. And apparently they can do a lot. Take SJ. When I went to his page, I saw this rendition of himself. Oh man! He doesn’t only draw himself, he draws himself drawing himself wih Graffiti! And even that drawing of himself drawn by the caricature of himself that SJ drew is better than mine. (I think I’m getting confused.) Okay, I give up. I mean, I know this is not a competition, but you win. Okay? Oh by the way, I just borrowed your picture to make a point. Hope you don’t mind.

* Actually, I already got permission.

0:53, 4.37

Everything I think about these days seems to be related to aging. Even the things I don’t want to think about are age related. Like my memory. I used to drop gingko biloba regularly but stopped this past summer as I had concluded that it didn’t really help me–I would forget to do what M told me to do, or I would not be able locate my baseball cap. What I hadn’t counted on was that, perhaps, the gingko biloba was actually working and my powers of memory was actually worse.

I was on Facebook, poking around the RBJ group and noticed someone I thought I might know on Xanga. As she–and most of us–prefer to remain anonymous, I thought I recognized through her location history. But I wasn’t sure. I thought I’d friend her but decided to confirm her identity first. I wouldn’t want her to think I’m a stalker…

Onigiriman: Hi, Are you Enygma? I’m Onigiriman. Of course, you may already know that.

Enygma: Yes.
Wait, when we messaged each other several months ago, did you think I was a complete stranger?

Oooops! (@_@

Oh brother. She’s right of course; she did message me. And I did NOT think she was a complete stranger back then. But for the moment, I had forgotten. I guess, had I bothered to think about it, maybe look in my inbox for previous mesages, I would have saved myself the embarrassment. But nooooooo. I decided to confirm as to save both of us some embarrassment, but ended up just embarrassing myself.

Now where did I stash that gingko?

1:30, 7.26