Archive for September 2003

Hey Sleetse!

September 30, 2003

I guess you’re number 5000. Kinda appropriate I guess since you probably leave me more comments than anyone else… but not the most props. As anyone who has been visited by sleetse knows, he only leaves ONE PROP, the cheapskate. 全く、けちで、せこい奴だ。hahahaha. Too bad it wasn’t Masumi, tho. I had a nice present for number 5000 if it was a girl. Lots of guys on Xanga hit on Sleetse thinking he’s a girl, but I KNOW better. Ah well, I guess i’ll save it for #10,000. hahahaha.

Today’s Snapshot
A hard day at work. Lit class and then a couple of students coming for extra help… you know who you are. I head to the Metro station, walk through the turnstiles and head down to the platform where I see… thousands of people milling about restlessly. Ok, maybe not thousands but more than a couple hundred. The lights at the edge of the platform are blinking indicating that a train is approaching but… no train. I ask someone on the platform, and she shrugs her shoulder saying that there hasn’t been a train or an announcement for the past 20 minutes. Great… If I go back to my office, I gotta go through the turnstiles again and be out $1.20. Apparently I could write to Metro and get my money back: use stationary, envelope and a 37 cent stamp, not to mention my valuable time, but that doesn’t seem worth it. During such stoppages, Metro should put up a sign at the turnstile explaining that there is a delay or something. But that would make WAY TOO much sense. Anyway, the train finally arrives after about half an hour. They are running both directions on one track so its taking time to switch them over. Apparently they had a “police” situation at Metro center. And there’s something obviously wrong with the tracks if they are only running one track. I hope it wasn’t anything too serious….

Thanks for Reading
I can’t believe I am nearing 5000. Scroll to the bottom of the page and see if you are number 5000. If its you, leave a comment… or not. haha.

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Hey Sleetse!

September 30, 2003

I guess you’re number 5000. Kinda appropriate I guess since you probably leave me more comments than anyone else… but not the most props. As anyone who has been visited by sleetse knows, he only leaves ONE PROP, the cheapskate. 全く、けちで、せこい奴だ。hahahaha. Too bad it wasn’t Masumi, tho. I had a nice present for number 5000 if it was a girl. Lots of guys on Xanga hit on Sleetse thinking he’s a girl, but I KNOW better. Ah well, I guess i’ll save it for #10,000. hahahaha.

Today’s Snapshot

A hard day at work. Lit class and then a couple of students coming for extra help… you know who you are. I head to the Metro station, walk through the turnstiles and head down to the platform where I see… thousands of people milling about restlessly. Ok, maybe not thousands but more than a couple hundred. The lights at the edge of the platform are blinking indicating that a train is approaching but… no train. I ask someone on the platform, and she shrugs her shoulder saying that there hasn’t been a train or an announcement for the past 20 minutes. Great… If I go back to my office, I gotta go through the turnstiles again and be out $1.20. Apparently I could write to Metro and get my money back: use stationary, envelope and a 37 cent stamp, not to mention my valuable time, but that doesn’t seem worth it. During such stoppages, Metro should put up a sign at the turnstile explaining that there is a delay or something. But that would make WAY TOO much sense. Anyway, the train finally arrives after about half an hour. They are running both directions on one track so its taking time to switch them over. Apparently they had a “police” situation at Metro center. And there’s something obviously wrong with the tracks if they are only running one track. I hope it wasn’t anything too serious….

Thanks for Reading

I can’t believe I am nearing 5000. Scroll to the bottom of the page and see if you are number 5000. If its you, leave a comment… or not. haha.

UCLA

September 29, 2003

Okay, my Bruins are even at .500 going into Pac-10 play next week against Washington. Ok, ok, this was accomplished last night with a victory over San Diego State, 20-10, a win that is not so impressive. I mean, geez, did you see Cal beat ‘$c? In triple overtime? Damn, why can’t our boys in blue pull wins out like that?!? *sigh* SD State does not instill fear into most teams. But keep in mind tha this team had the third best defense in the nation and almost barely lost to Ohio St. in the Horseshoe 16-13. That has to count for something. SD State is no push over this year.

Anyway, I didn’t get to watch the entire game because it was at a local sports bar where last call is at… 12 midnight. Damn, these people in Virginia are a bunch of wimps. can you believe this. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: Washington DC is inaka–rural, the sticks, the boon docks, a hick town. It is pathetic. You’d think that the capital of the mightiest country in the freakin’ world would be more exciting, dynamic, cosmopolitan. Ok, Fairfax is not DC, but it is a major suburb. Can you imagine a bar announcing last call at 12 freakin’ midnight in Westchester, NY? No, wait, bad example. Long Island, yeah, I KNOW there are places to go on Long Island, right? How about Evanston, IL? Huh? They gotta have places serving alcohol after 12, on a Saturday night! I know they serve afer 12 in Santa Monica, West LA, and East LA. But here in the Commonwealth of Virginia? Fuhgedaboutit…

AND, the reason I had to see the game in a sports bar to begin with is because DishTV doesn’t carry Fox Sports West 2. They carry everyother Fox sports network, even FSW, but not 2. Something about only being able to carry on programming option per region. Bull! then why is in on Direct TV? I blew it. I shoulda gotten Direct. This DishTV really blows. I mean, the whole point of getting a satellite in the first place was to get these channels…

Okay, that’s my rant of the day, hopefully for the week. We’re all busy and tired and stressed. Well, I’m really stressed and tired and overworked and underpaid. I mean, this Saturday football is my ONLY release from the stress. I wish I could at least get what I paid for…. Sheesh… Is that too much to ask for?

UCLA

September 29, 2003

Okay, my Bruins are even at .500 going into Pac-10 play next week against Washington. Ok, ok, this was accomplished last night with a victory over San Diego State, 20-10, a win that is not so impressive. I mean, geez, did you see Cal beat ‘$c? In triple overtime? Damn, why can’t our boys in blue pull wins out like that?!? *sigh* SD State does not instill fear into most teams. But keep in mind tha this team had the third best defense in the nation and almost barely lost to Ohio St. in the Horseshoe 16-13. That has to count for something. SD State is no push over this year.

Anyway, I didn’t get to watch the entire game because it was at a local sports bar where last call is at… 12 midnight. Damn, these people in Virginia are a bunch of wimps. can you believe this. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: Washington DC is inaka–rural, the sticks, the boon docks, a hick town. It is pathetic. You’d think that the capital of the mightiest country in the freakin’ world would be more exciting, dynamic, cosmopolitan. Ok, Fairfax is not DC, but it is a major suburb. Can you imagine a bar announcing last call at 12 freakin’ midnight in Westchester, NY? No, wait, bad example. Long Island, yeah, I KNOW there are places to go on Long Island, right? How about Evanston, IL? Huh? They gotta have places serving alcohol after 12, on a Saturday night! I know they serve afer 12 in Santa Monica, West LA, and East LA. But here in the Commonwealth of Virginia? Fuhgedaboutit…

AND, the reason I had to see the game in a sports bar to begin with is because DishTV doesn’t carry Fox Sports West 2. They carry everyother Fox sports network, even FSW, but not 2. Something about only being able to carry on programming option per region. Bull! then why is in on Direct TV? I blew it. I shoulda gotten Direct. This DishTV really blows. I mean, the whole point of getting a satellite in the first place was to get these channels…

Okay, that’s my rant of the day, hopefully for the week. We’re all busy and tired and stressed. Well, I’m really stressed and tired and overworked and underpaid. I mean, this Saturday football is my ONLY release from the stress. I wish I could at least get what I paid for…. Sheesh… Is that too much to ask for?

Nefarius look alike

September 28, 2003

I was sitting at a bar in Georgetown last night and two seats down was a sexy looking girl who kinda reminded me of some of photos I had seen of Nefarius Hatter. You weren’t by any chance in DC this weekend, were you? I kept looking through the mirror to get a better look, but it was hard. I would have asked her directly, but in the seat between her and me was Musubi-chan… hahaha… I value my life.

PaikyPoo: this is wot i had to wait a day for? pffft… i was expecting some n00kie or something… bah, i’m goin back to doin my laundry.
I like ya’ Paiky; you’re too much. And I really like the honesty in your posts. I need more info on these FTFs. But sorry, not here. I like nooky, and I like to talk about it. But not here. I am simply not anonymous enough. A lot of my kids might croak–Eee yuuu! But I have written a number of comments on other people’s sites that I would NEVER write here. Ha! I know a number of people have come by through the links on these other sites, but I think they leave disappointed, cuz the O-man’s Xanga is rater PG.

Not Living Up to Expectation
Installment eight…. continued: First half posted yesterday; see below.

One thing I wanted to do while I was in Japan was me up with YI, the girl I went out with for a few weeks after MM. She was pretty cute and smart and spoke Japanese. Sorta like BA with Japanese and English skills. The only reason why we broke up was because at the time 1976 she was a senior in high school (18) and I was 21. Her parents were not amused. Anyway, I went to see her but she was out with her friends–stupid me, I didn’t call before I stopped by–and left with her mother the omiyage I brought for her. Her parents’ condo was near ICU, where she went, and I decided to visit the campus–who knows, I thought naively, maybe I’ll run into her. Well, you’ve probably guessed that I ended up strolling the campus by myself, seeing a whole lot of nothing. I decided to head back to Nishi-Ogikubo and hopped on the bus back to Mitaka Station. As I gazed out the window, wondering if I would ever see YI again, some called out to me in English.

“Onigiriman? Is that you?”
“JU? What are you doing here?”
“I’m a ry琦akusei. From UCLA”
“Man, I haven’t seen you since when? Boy scouts? Karate?”
“About six years, I guess, huh.”
“Man, no shit.” Kinda lonely about not being able to see YI, I thought it would be fun to hang with JU, who was a couple of years younger than me. He was in the same patrol–the Firebirds–in our Boy Scout troop and we also took Shotokan Karate together at our church. “So what you doing now? Got a date? Going to work?”
“No, I was just going to go to the station and do some shopping.”
“Screw that. Let’s go to Shinjuku and get a drink. My treat.”
“Yeah, okay.”

Well, we went to Shinjuku, and found a small dive outside Nishiguchi west of the station on the main thoroughfare Omekaid・ We ate lightly but imbibed rather heavily in o-sake. I think we finished more than a bottle (one bottle = 1.8 liters)… I think. I don’t really remember much after reaching the bottom of the first bottle. What I do recall is paying 18,000 yen–pretty hefty for 24 years ago–and helping my friend throw up onto the tracks from the platform of the Chuo line. I sorta recall being warned by someone to take care of him as he seemed pretty bad off. I was pretty drunk, but I guess I can “appear” more sober… Anyway, I couldn’t send him back to school in this condition, so I brought him home… much to the displeasure of my cousin. Hahaha. He was really put out. Alvin is a really square dude; naive as naive gets–even in Tokyo–and he couldn’t wait to call Australia to report to my grandparents. All i could do was put my friend in a futon and let him sleep it off. Next morning, I wake up to find my cousn gone to school. I wake up with JU and he’s still groggy as hell, but he insisted that he had to go back to school, so I went with him as far as Mitaka Station to make sure he got on the right bus.

It was November 5, 1979. I remember the date rather distinctly. I returned home with with a headache and a woozy stomache. I laid down on top of the futon and turned on the TV, hoping the static of Japanese would lull me to sleep. News. Some kind of turmoil in some unnamed third-world country. I couldn’t really tell, because while my Japanese was passable for everyday conversation, I still had problems with the more sophisticated language of news. I changed the channel and recognized the same footage. Damn, I need some stupid daytime drama to put me to sleep. I click a again and its still the news. What’s going on? Something pretty big must have happened, so I tried to focus and understand what the newscaster was saying. Iran, American taishikan? That’s “embassy”, right. Hitojichi? I look it up in the dictionary: “hostage”… What the…? I wasn’t really sure what happened, the newscasters spoke too fast for me in language I was too unfamiliar with. But i got the gist: Some Iranins entered the American embassy in Tehran, Iran and took hostages including marines. Late afternoon, I hurried to Nishi-Ogikubo station to buy the evening paper. I return home and try my best to read the newspaper with a dictionary. I was struggling but I understood more: So-called students stormed the embassy and took marines and embassy personnel hostage. They were crying for the death of the US. I was shocked. And angry. How could they do that to us… “Us”? Did I just say “us”?

I learned two things on this trip. One was the new form of entertainment, karaoke, where one could sing a favortie tune accompanied by music that was pretty close to the original. This was a revelation. This was, to the best of my recollection, the very first time I thought the Japanese were world leaders in “having fun”. But, the other thing I learned was more revealing: I was an American.

And that I probably would never see YI again…

End of installment 8

Nefarius look alike

September 28, 2003

I was sitting at a bar in Georgetown last night and two seats down was a sexy looking girl who kinda reminded me of some of photos I had seen of Nefarius Hatter. You weren’t by any chance in DC this weekend, were you? I kept looking through the mirror to get a better look, but it was hard. I would have asked her directly, but in the seat between her and me was Musubi-chan… hahaha… I value my life.

PaikyPoo: this is wot i had to wait a day for? pffft… i was expecting some n00kie or something… bah, i’m goin back to doin my laundry.

I like ya’ Paiky; you’re too much. And I really like the honesty in your posts. I need more info on these FTFs. But sorry, not here. I like nooky, and I like to talk about it. But not here. I am simply not anonymous enough. A lot of my kids might croak–Eee yuuu! But I have written a number of comments on other people’s sites that I would NEVER write here. Ha! I know a number of people have come by through the links on these other sites, but I think they leave disappointed, cuz the O-man’s Xanga is rater PG.

Not Living Up to Expectation

Installment eight…. continued: First half posted yesterday; see below.

One thing I wanted to do while I was in Japan was me up with YI, the girl I went out with for a few weeks after MM. She was pretty cute and smart and spoke Japanese. Sorta like BA with Japanese and English skills. The only reason why we broke up was because at the time 1976 she was a senior in high school (18) and I was 21. Her parents were not amused. Anyway, I went to see her but she was out with her friends–stupid me, I didn’t call before I stopped by–and left with her mother the omiyage I brought for her. Her parents’ condo was near ICU, where she went, and I decided to visit the campus–who knows, I thought naively, maybe I’ll run into her. Well, you’ve probably guessed that I ended up strolling the campus by myself, seeing a whole lot of nothing. I decided to head back to Nishi-Ogikubo and hopped on the bus back to Mitaka Station. As I gazed out the window, wondering if I would ever see YI again, some called out to me in English.

“Onigiriman? Is that you?”

“JU? What are you doing here?”

“I’m a ry琦akusei. From UCLA”

“Man, I haven’t seen you since when? Boy scouts? Karate?”

“About six years, I guess, huh.”

“Man, no shit.” Kinda lonely about not being able to see YI, I thought it would be fun to hang with JU, who was a couple of years younger than me. He was in the same patrol–the Firebirds–in our Boy Scout troop and we also took Shotokan Karate together at our church. “So what you doing now? Got a date? Going to work?”

“No, I was just going to go to the station and do some shopping.”

“Screw that. Let’s go to Shinjuku and get a drink. My treat.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Well, we went to Shinjuku, and found a small dive outside Nishiguchi west of the station on the main thoroughfare Omekaid・ We ate lightly but imbibed rather heavily in o-sake. I think we finished more than a bottle (one bottle = 1.8 liters)… I think. I don’t really remember much after reaching the bottom of the first bottle. What I do recall is paying 18,000 yen–pretty hefty for 24 years ago–and helping my friend throw up onto the tracks from the platform of the Chuo line. I sorta recall being warned by someone to take care of him as he seemed pretty bad off. I was pretty drunk, but I guess I can “appear” more sober… Anyway, I couldn’t send him back to school in this condition, so I brought him home… much to the displeasure of my cousin. Hahaha. He was really put out. Alvin is a really square dude; naive as naive gets–even in Tokyo–and he couldn’t wait to call Australia to report to my grandparents. All i could do was put my friend in a futon and let him sleep it off. Next morning, I wake up to find my cousn gone to school. I wake up with JU and he’s still groggy as hell, but he insisted that he had to go back to school, so I went with him as far as Mitaka Station to make sure he got on the right bus.

It was November 5, 1979. I remember the date rather distinctly. I returned home with with a headache and a woozy stomache. I laid down on top of the futon and turned on the TV, hoping the static of Japanese would lull me to sleep. News. Some kind of turmoil in some unnamed third-world country. I couldn’t really tell, because while my Japanese was passable for everyday conversation, I still had problems with the more sophisticated language of news. I changed the channel and recognized the same footage. Damn, I need some stupid daytime drama to put me to sleep. I click a again and its still the news. What’s going on? Something pretty big must have happened, so I tried to focus and understand what the newscaster was saying. Iran, American taishikan? That’s “embassy”, right. Hitojichi? I look it up in the dictionary: “hostage”… What the…? I wasn’t really sure what happened, the newscasters spoke too fast for me in language I was too unfamiliar with. But i got the gist: Some Iranins entered the American embassy in Tehran, Iran and took hostages including marines. Late afternoon, I hurried to Nishi-Ogikubo station to buy the evening paper. I return home and try my best to read the newspaper with a dictionary. I was struggling but I understood more: So-called students stormed the embassy and took marines and embassy personnel hostage. They were crying for the death of the US. I was shocked. And angry. How could they do that to us… “Us”? Did I just say “us”?

I learned two things on this trip. One was the new form of entertainment, karaoke, where one could sing a favortie tune accompanied by music that was pretty close to the original. This was a revelation. This was, to the best of my recollection, the very first time I thought the Japanese were world leaders in “having fun”. But, the other thing I learned was more revealing: I was an American.

And that I probably would never see YI again…

End of installment 8

Thanks for the love

September 27, 2003

I just realized that I am fast approaching the 5000 hit mark. While Xanga is not supposed to be a popularity contest, it is nice to know that people find what I write interesting enough to come by from time to time, even if I don’t write sexually explicit stuff, or that I have no hesitation about talking about myself or about topics that Musubi-chan refers to as “dirty topics”, in reference to things best left in the toilet–like yesterday’s post, although it was no where near as graphic as it would have been in person and after a few beers. Hehehe. I’m just an immature ojitarian.

Speaking of ojitarian: Does anyone know if the oyaji (re: late middle age, the old-man, pops) syndrome is genetic or race specific. I wasn’t born or raised in Japan, but symptoms–oyaji (corny) gags, toile talk–suggest that I’m afflicted anyway. Is there maybe an oyaji gene that proliferates after a certain age? Do other East Asians suffer similarly? Or is Japan the only country affected? ANY advice would be welcome–Capstew! where are you when I need ya’?

Thanks for waiting
Well, I finally “made” time to continue writing NLUTE. School has kept me very busy and I have had little time for myself… well, maybe to see a football game or two. But that’s beside the point. I truly feel that this semester may end up being the most stressful of my career. Thank goodness for my kids. They are the core of my existence (well, beside Musubi-chan, that is), and the only reason why I can continue to work where I work without going crazy.

Not Living Up to Expectation
Installment eight….

RECAP: After years of screwing around–playing in a band, ditching school, drinking like a fish–I realized that I should stop screwing around and get serious with education, but I was again enticed by the thought of pursuing an alternative career when I entered a singing contest. And I won, winning a trip to Japan. Click NLUTE to read the previous seven installments.

Well, I learned that the prize wasn’t all that great. I first had visions of grandeur. The Suntory Corporation would pick me up in a limosine at the airport and wisk me away to a posh Akasaka hotel. The reality was much different.

The ticket to Japan turned out to be a one-year open round trip ticket from LA to Tokyo on China Airline. Further, the only connection the sponsor, Suntory, had with the contest was providing money for the low-budget plane ticket. Indeed, the Suntory name was supplied by the local Suntory office, and the Tokyo headquarter had nothing to do with it and knew nothing of this contest. So all dreams of being “discovered” went up in smoke. As I think of it now, I was pretty naive

But still, I got a free trip to Japan, so I wan’t complaining too loudly. I decided to go in my favorite season, Fall, and left LA around the beginning of October. In Japan, I stayed at my grandparents condo again in Nishi-Ogikubo, but they were not living there. My grandfather was sent to Australia by his trading organization for a few years, but they had my cousin Alvin–who was by then a Waseda student, and still reminded me of a chipmonk–house-sit the place while they were gone. So I had a room to myself, little of my grandparents house-cluttering items, and a cousin who usually spent time at school and with his friends, so I could spend my time as I pleased.

For a week, I puttered around local areas, going to Shinjuku a couple times to get my self oriented to Tokyo, again. I also went to visit my relatives in the boondocks of Fukushima for a week or so. It was kinda embarassing. I told them that the contest was no big deal, that Suntory was only lending its name and had no real interest in the contest or its winner, but they would have no part in it. One look at the photo, and they figured they had a bonafide star in the making… or something. My cousin–Issei on my dad’s side–got all the relatives and a couple of the local council members who were friends to come over for a party to celebrate my winning the contest. My family on that side will use any reason to hold a party. I wanted me to sing the song I won with, and Akio, my dad’s cousin, searched the entire village for a karaoke tape of the song–Karaoke was in its infancy back then–but he couldn’t find one, so I ended up singing at the party a capella

One thing I wanted to do while I was in Japan was meet up with YI (re: NLUTE installment 5-6), the girl I went out with for a few weeks after MM…

Continued tomorrow…