tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56613942011-04-21T18:23:57.073-07:00TimNowRuminations of a 20-something former politico-initiate PAC intern's 1L experience (formerly known as "TokyoTim; An American Yeti in Japan") Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comBlogger321100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1134872015109840542005-12-17T18:12:00.000-08:002005-12-17T18:13:35.120-08:00All Law School and no "other" maketh Tim a dull blogger.Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1110169173025868882005-03-06T19:24:00.000-08:002005-03-06T20:19:33.026-08:00Well, yet again I find myself posting about resolving to post more...enough of that crap...so, back in AA after a week in NYC. Great spring break...drove with my man Ron and his car full of his pet mice. He has over 100. Lost count after 26 becuase it's so hard to count them. Anyway, NYC was so fun that I have to get a job and go back there...okay, that was a start!Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1096937541096716152004-10-04T20:58:00.000-07:002004-10-04T17:52:21.096-07:00When a lord gave land to someone in feudal times, he often asked some service of the recipient, such as keeping a bridge in repair or--mirroring the modern tenant-landlord relationship--money rent. Almost anything would do, even a red rose at midsummer. One Roland held 110 acres for which, every Christmas, he was required to perform before the king "altogether, and once, a leap, a puff, and a Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1074465155529017302004-01-18T14:32:00.000-08:002004-05-29T12:01:55.983-07:001/16/04
I spent all day yesterday at an exhausting shooting of a Kirin tea (e.g. Kirin Ichiban) commercial with this famous little singer girl and about 20 other extras. We stood around all f*cking day and my feet were killing me. They didn't let us drink much except cup after warm cup of the featured tea, which they poured on the rocks--plastic rocks. People kept dropping their plastic ice cubesTimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1072519869511540762003-12-27T02:11:00.000-08:002005-08-27T11:20:20.890-07:0012/19/03Funny thing about x-mas in Nippon is that they are crazy about it, but they don't really know what it's about, and they don't know what to make of the religious basis. For them, it is PURELY capitalist--granted, in the US it is headed that way, but here, there is absolutely no religious aspect to it. Rather, new year's is a bigger deal. Christmas is apparently a couples' holiday, so I Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1071636816174148372003-12-16T20:53:00.000-08:002003-12-16T20:54:28.390-08:0012/17/03
I had a nice “dinner” at an Okinawan restaurant the other night. I was out with my Japanese rugby friend, and he wanted to show me this little place he knew of where the owner was an Okinawan rugby player, which apparently is something to be impressed about...We tried some funny Japanese “Shochu”, which is a more traditional, older version of Sake, made—in this case—from rice and lots ofTimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1071114008076059222003-12-10T19:40:00.000-08:002003-12-10T19:40:53.670-08:0012/11/03
As some of you may know, the public toilets over here often do not provide sanitary tissue products, as it were. Thus, the many people out on the streets cooing nasally as they hand out tissues with ads in them are not just effective marketing tools, but are also quite convenient toilet-paper dispensers, in a sense. With that notion in mind, I decided to spice things up, albeit in an Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1070553590186584862003-12-04T07:59:00.000-08:002003-12-04T08:00:29.106-08:0012/5/03
blue jean vending machines...year of the monkey...sumo ring sandbox...chopsticks cause arthritis...warm yogurt with honey...
These are the notes I write for myself occasionally to remember things I want to write about. I’ll start at the end. I enjoy warm milk with honey occasionally at night, so on my way home from work, I asked a young woman in the convenience store which milk was Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1070118408579542452003-11-29T07:06:00.000-08:002003-11-29T07:07:23.310-08:0011/30/03
Classic example of how safe Japan is, but first I need to explain the bike locks here because they figure prominently in the story: a LOT of people ride bikes here to get around. Being Japanese, they came up with an ingenious, convenient, low-profile bike lock. It is essentially a retractable ring of steel about a quarter of an inch thick which encircles the wheel and is attached near Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1070113276063307582003-11-29T05:41:00.000-08:002003-11-29T05:41:50.263-08:0011/29/03
In truly Japanese form, there was a full-to-the-brim hip-hop dance class the other day going on in the gym. Of course, everyone was extremely serious, and the teacher broke down each move into component parts, which the students then assembled into coherent dance steps. It was highly amusing to see such a spontaneous, counter-cultural phenomenon analyzed in a scientific manner. Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1069952896568090342003-11-27T09:08:00.000-08:002003-11-27T09:08:49.403-08:00Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1069952851467976822003-11-27T09:07:00.000-08:002003-11-27T09:08:04.310-08:00 11/28/03
I had a boring day of studying for the upcoming LSAT—I feel nervous if I don’t study but studying tends to make me nervous when I get questions wrong. There is no solution so I am trying to find a happy medium. I ran out of Logic Games to do, which is a bit scary, considering that’s the hardest part of the test...Anyway, in other news, I saw a drunk salaryman, mid-thirties, puking on Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1069861263120236412003-11-26T07:41:00.000-08:002003-11-26T07:41:34.420-08:0011/27/03
So today was the big photo shoot! It turns out I wasn’t THAT special, because there were about 40 people there, and many of them were pretty unattractive, to be quite honest. However, I got called up to the front of the crowd when they took the final pictures, which means I will actually be visible in the ad! I was sent to the back of the tiny room in which the shoot took place, Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1069684714020031532003-11-24T06:38:00.000-08:002003-11-24T06:39:03.293-08:0011/25/03
I heard something weird today: apparently, there has been a physical change in the structure of the Japanese eyelids in the last couple of generations. While older Japanese almost invariably lack the sort of rounded-out eyelid that is distinct from the area of skin directly underneath the eyebrow, younger Japanese tend to have this structure. In other words, the older Japanese tend to Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1069642828559393052003-11-23T19:00:00.000-08:002003-11-23T19:00:57.873-08:0011/21/03
I just got back from an interesting cultural phenomenon where shopkeepers and restaurant owners and such go to a Shinto temple and throw down big bucks for funny-looking ornaments that they then put in their places of business for good luck. The sellers of the ornaments have big wooden blocks that they clap together loudly as they chant something to the effect of “may your business be Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1069513130686491762003-11-22T06:58:00.000-08:002003-11-22T06:59:17.686-08:0011/22/03
I had a fun, spontaneous night tonight: I went to a little Irish pub to watch the Rugby World Cup final between England and Australia, and while there, I befriended a couple of Japanese rugby players. They play for a club team that has had tours to Europe and the South Pacific, and it sounds like they are a decent club. One of the men is married, and he invited me to have dinner with theTimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1069319195030564172003-11-20T01:06:00.000-08:002003-11-20T01:07:00.546-08:0011/20/03
I forgot to write that I won a “Chankin” (rock, paper, scissors) tournament at a Halloween party in an Izakaya (Japanese-style bar). It was pretty dang exciting, actually (actually). I had to advance through at least 4 rounds, and the crowd really got into it. In the final, it was tied at 3-3, and the next throw won...I thought about it, and smothered her rock with my paper! Ha-Ha! I Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1068430819130459942003-11-09T18:20:00.000-08:002003-11-09T18:20:16.836-08:0011/10/03
Had my first audition as a “male model/gaijin (Japanese for white-boy) talent” yesterday. I guess it went all right, but it was impossible to tell because I had my eyes closed. That’s right, they need someone to pretend that their peacefully sleeping for $120 a day. I can handle that. Maybe it’ll be my ticket to the big time. In fact, when my “manager” from the talent agency stepped out Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1068380783573648182003-11-09T04:26:00.000-08:002003-11-09T04:26:21.273-08:0011/9/03
I got this email from some girl today (I have no idea who she is or what she is referring to):
“By the previous telephone I didn't understand the means what you say. Therefore if good please send by mail Possibly. Is it angry?”
Interesting...I guess I’ll email her back. I am curious!
I have developed a bit of an aversion to the blue moles that Japanese women often have. Many women Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1068339527380675502003-11-08T16:58:00.000-08:002003-11-08T16:58:44.676-08:0011/9/03
I went back to the little noodle bar and asked the lady about the little tool she was using and it turns out it somehow measures the salt content of the broth. She likes to keep the salt at a level 7. Pretty high tech!
One of my favorite Japanenglish pronunciations is that of Mexico. They say “May-ku-see-ko” because of the way their sounds work. It just doesn’t roll of the tongue with Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1068128131498810642003-11-06T06:15:00.000-08:002003-11-06T06:15:29.743-08:0011/6/03
I saw something funny and apparently inexplicable the other day. I was eating lunch at a little stand-up noodle bar when the woman back there took the top off the big pot of broth and ladled a little into a little tool of some kind. Then she put the tool to her eye and looked through it as if to test the broth for something. It reminded me of a pool attendant checking chlorine levels. SheTimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1067874511048537902003-11-03T07:48:00.000-08:002003-11-03T07:48:29.223-08:0010/30/03
Bike-riders. There are crazy people all over the sidewalks here riding their granny bikes like bats out of hell. Not only are they crazy and fast, but the sidewalks in this country are virtually nonexistent, not to mention the fact that they are always incredibly crowded. This combination results in the inevitable situation in which bikers are always whizzing past and it is necessary to Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1066561201021586962003-10-19T04:00:00.000-07:002003-10-19T04:00:01.146-07:00I had my first ride on a super crowded Tokyo train the other night. It was after rush hour (although that is sort of a difficult statement to make, since it is pretty much always rush hour--a lot of Japanese don't get home til midnight) or sometime around 9pm, and I was meeting a friend for dinner. I walked out onto the platform and was surprised to see the train literally overflowing with peopleTimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1065716171158911542003-10-09T09:16:00.000-07:002003-10-09T09:16:11.076-07:0010/5/03
I just read something that may help explain why young Japanese are so stylish and why they seem to seek unique looks: akanukeru means “to remove the dirt and become clean,” but the author uses it to describe the transformation of high school girls from students who all wear the same black uniforms to individuals with unique styles. It may be this abrupt transition that prompts so many Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1065216692776859752003-10-03T14:31:00.000-07:002003-10-03T14:31:32.616-07:0010/3/03
On my day off, I went down to Chinatown and walked around with a friend. We inspected each steaming pot of pork buns closely before finally coming to a decision to try one. It was pretty good, but not nearly as good as the ones I had in DC at a Dim Sum restaurant. The Lonely Planet was right to forewarn us about high hopes for the food in Chinatown. I ended up spending almost $20 on food Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1064746360895613792003-09-28T03:52:00.000-07:002003-09-28T03:52:41.083-07:009/28/03
One of my favorite things about Japanese culture is the shameless drive for stylishness. While in the US, most people cultivate an “I don’t give a shit attitude”—sometimes to the point that it is doubly apparent how much they actually care about their style, when their hair is always perfectly tussled and their clothes all tattered just to the right degree—in Japan, there is no Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1064746083432528052003-09-28T03:48:00.000-07:002003-09-28T03:48:03.073-07:009/25/03
The other night my friend and I inadvertently conspired to make a funny faux pas. We ate at a place that specializes in meat, especially beef. I had a nice Japanese curry combination, but that is beside the point. The funny thing happened as we were paying. I realized that I needed to pay up front—it seems one never leaves money on the table, for instance at a restaurant—so I stood up Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1064500429389228882003-09-25T07:33:00.000-07:002003-09-25T07:33:49.190-07:009/23/03
First day on the job today. Had orientation yesterday at the main headquarters in the busiest business district of Tokyo yesterday and today I’m going to Kawasaki, which is my branch office between Yokohama and Tokyo, for some on-the-job training. Later, I will be working just one train stop away from where I live, which is amazingly lucky. The average teacher has at least a 30-45 minute Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1064013720285212442003-09-19T16:22:00.000-07:002003-09-19T16:22:00.130-07:009/18/03
What would it be like to be sucked out of a jetliner cruising at 571 miles per hour over the Pacific? Would it be possible to relish the unbelievable rush of going from a climate-controlled capsule environment to the deafening whistle of wind whipping past the ears at 160 miles an hour? I would like to think so. I would like to think that we could somehow enjoy those last few seconds of Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1062544538640148632003-09-02T16:15:00.000-07:002003-09-02T16:15:38.696-07:00Check it out- my address in Japan for all of you who have been anxiously waiting to figure out where to send those care packages:
#201 Bell Wistaria
1-26-6 Tarumachi
Kohoku-Ku
Yokohama-Shi
Kanagawa-Ken
222-0001
That's it for now since I am still wallowing in the banal surroundings of my hometown.Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1061992160370067362003-08-27T06:49:00.000-07:002003-08-27T06:49:20.320-07:00Sitting in an institution for females only, Northwest of Philadelphia, PA, I have an opportunity to reflect on gender relations. I have never had the experience of being such a minority in the gender sense. Students here tend to look at me differently than females would look at me on a co-ed campus. Many of the girls--young women, pardon me--are sort of bashful. Others seem hostile. Just this Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5661394.post-1061689592222258512003-08-23T18:46:00.000-07:002003-08-23T18:46:32.146-07:00First blog.Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11847145085786248523noreply@blogger.com