Shit-Shiraoka`s setsumeikii

This week has been a small campaign week for Shane, which culminated in a few schools were open for trials and demonstration lessons (over-ambitiously all were scheduled to be open, but some had to be closed, unfortunately, not mine, more unfortunately, Sean`s was, but he was assigned another one, much further away and with an unattractive receptionist).

This meant Saturday night`s fun had to be curtailed, although it was already drastically reduced by the non-appearance of the fabulous Suzuki-san. George had forgotten his promise to flyer all the hairdressers of Omiya and I had confused the nights, so it was almost better than he didn`t turn up and think me a weird liar. It was a good night though, some decent DJs were playing and so it was a shame to have to head home at a sensible hour and after only three gins. I was tempted to call in sick, but this is not financially viable (not only are you not paid, but the DoS`s rate is deducted thereby leaving you considerably shorter) and I was out with Steven, who was on standby and quite happy to tell anyone how happy and healthy I appeared on the previous evening.

The early night didn`t make Sunday any easier. I got there early as I knew I had a packed schedule (the receptionists at Shin-Shiraoka are highly skilled at shoe-horning in students and possible students to any teacher`s already crammed schedule), but had no idea what to do with anyone. I managed to cobble together a lesson for the demonstration class I had first, using all sorts of techniques I wouldn`t ordinarily bother with/have time to prepare, and was fairly pleased with the class. The receptionist had insisted I use the first lesson of the book as this was where they would start, although they were at a far more advanced level. This was a big mistake and I will argue my case next time. I had to endure thirty minutes of torture with three teenage girls giggling and whispering `my name is...` only for their parents to sit at the back whispering and giggling too. One of the fathers was particularly rude and next time I will send anyone who behaves in that way out of my class. The rest of the day was OK. I interviewed a very handsome tennis coach with patchy English and a housewife who spoke German and Russian, but claimed (in English) to speak no English. I also had to give a few make up lessons, including one to a timid woman wearing an obvious wig, it took all my strength not to stare at.

Afterwards, I met up with Sean, Adam and Riaz and treated myself to a feast at the Asian Kitchen. Riaz regaled us with tales of Shit-Shiraoka`s past wrong-doings and his methods of correction from when he taught there. I`m off there again now and have to steady my nerve. It`s not so bad and the child from hell is being handed over to a new teacher soon, so I will try to welcome the new teacher who starts today with more optimism than I received on my first day.

Buon appetito!

I feel hideously ungrateful for imagining last night`s dinner would be `just pizza`. After almost breaking a taxi door （they shut themselves, but I am not used to this), I was taken to a simple-looking restaurant (actually, it was a little Happy Eater, but I imagine the Japanese would love such road-side treats - I certainly used to), which served the most magnificent Italian food. The Menopause Sisters (as they unpleasantly insist on calling themselves) could barely translate the menu, nor could the head waiter, though they managed to muster `octopus and celery` between them, so I had to trust them - this is not really a problem. Once they had ordered, a fresh-faced waiter with a reasonable grasp of English was fished out of somewhere and dragged over, though even he couldn`t translate the food. Sachiko checked I could handle octopus, but not my views on celery. It was lucky, it wasn`t the bile-flavoured version I avoid at home and so I happily tucked in.

Again, we had absolutely masses of food. To begin, we had two main courses and three side dishes to share (bread salad, cuttlefish salad, roast lamb, raw scallops and cod with broccoli and asparagus in balsamic vinegar), though Hidako and I had to cope without a knife which was a little awkward. Just before the lamb arrived, the Head Chef came out to ask the exotic foreigner what her favourite dish was. I only wish he`d come back after I`d tasted the lamb as it was clearly the best. The cod was pretty amazing too. Oh, and the wine. It was my first non-Japanese, non-chilled red wine in four months. My god. Even with a hangover, it was delicious.

The young waiter asked Sachiko if he could experiment with his English on me and I had to answer some stock questions on how long I`d been here and where I came from, for him to almost collapse wailing `kakkoii` (cool - even, apparently, my having done politics at university). He then told me anytime I called he would come here to see me and it some time for me to realise he just meant to serve us! Sachiko said she had a `warm feeling` (this comes up a lot, I must learn it in Japanese and wow the easily impressed) and that she felt they were like my mothers. Then she and Hidako bickered about whose family I would meet first - Takako and I sat back and laughed as a small war broke out over them trying to get me on my own.

I was beginning to lament not being able to ask for pizza (I could not appear rude and reject their tremendous offerings), when the menus were pulled out again. The Head Waiter popped up and dropped in a few casual words of English, much to my companions` delight. We then had another round of food: shrimp salad; rosemary potatoes (the young Yamada-kun`s favourite, and perhaps my second); and chicken wings. Unfortunately, there were only three chicken wings, so Hidako offered to sit that course out, even though she is vegetarian and therefore can only eat chicken and fish... We had French white wine with this course and learned how to say `I am slightly drunk` in our respective adopted languages. Takako went bright red and everyone giggled too much. Sachiko particularly as she was trying to tease Takako about her husband having a mistress in China (he is younger and works away a lot, so probably has, which made it somewhat distasteful - oh, the wacky Japanese).

Yamada-kun popped over to say his shift was ending and to thank me for being there/foreign; I don`t think he could have been more excited had I been Britney Spears. Then another course was ordered, this time a pizza topped with a raw egg (it cooked slightly during the journey from serving dish to plate) and Hidako`s favourite seafood pasta. It was all tremendous, but there was still room for more. I was escorted by the remaining staff to the dessert counter and plumped for homemade tiramasu, then had to stand and have my photo taken with the Head Chef.

It is ridiculous and touching how excited some of the Japanese get to meet a foreigner and has helped me overcome my recent bout of Japanaphobia. As did the very handsome boy sat at the opposite table celebrating his sister`s (I hope!) birthday. He was far too young and with his family, although Yamada-kun being only 18 did not stop the old ladies trying to pair me off with him, so I don`t think anyone would have minded if I`d gone for it. There is no legal age of consent here, so you only need worry from a moral point of view...

Working this morning was a bit of a struggle after mixing wine and beer (I had tried to be sensible, but the Menopause Sisters have caught on to my being a heaby drinker and so decided to join me), but I`m off to the George later. I doubt I`ll stay long though. I tried to invite Suzuki-sensei to come along, but our limited shared language meant he thought it was a private party and there is no way on earth you will catch a local gate-crashing. The only time you will get close to an outright refusal is if they don`t feel they have a direct invitation from the person whose party it is. We will see. At least my hair looks nice, so they girls will probably be telling me I`m `kawaii`, even if the boys don`t.

Thank Crunchie it`s Friday

God, I`d love a Crunchie. They do Mars Bars and Snickers, but I`ve never been a big fan. Oh, why haven`t the Japanese embraced the delights of a Toffee Crisp?

Anyway, today, of course, I am massively hung over. After a six-day week, I decided to treat myself to yakiniku again (you grill your own meat, it`s like a toy and a meal all at once - it puts Kinder to shame). It is a dangerous meal as, with any barbeque, it brings the worst out in men and Karen and I had three with us last night. While they were arguing over the tongs, Karen and I sneakily made the most of our only opportunity to cook (warming ramen on a plastic hob can`t count) and took control of everything. We then hit Doma Doma, a `posh` izakaya which I think is unnecessarily expensive and yielded no interesting new friends, before heading on to karaoke. Mike-san and I stayed until 5am with a girl called Eri I had seen in the George, but who had no means of communicating with us beyond enthusiastic grins. We greedily exploited the all-you-can-drink offer and I climbed on the seat and did a pathetic `Wuthering Heights` to nobody`s amusement.

I have either overcome my current bout of homesickness or just been too busy to think about it. I don`t know what happens with my time, but there is far less of it at the moment. I feel like I have only seen my students, which is normally something I really enjoy, but this week they have foisted some fairly uncomfortable topics on me (murder, period pains, sterility and so on). I had to listen to Yukiko holding court with her usual Daily Mailian poison against the Japanese Pincess. From what I could drag out of the rest of the class, the poor woman tried to refuse the Prince`s proposal so she would not have to sacrifice her career as a diplomat, but was eventually forced to concede. She has been suffering heavily from depression and has been housebound for some time (although, much to Japan`s disgust, still sometimes gets to see her mates). She made an attempt to return to her official duties before Christmas, but has had a relapse so now Yukiko and a sizeable chunk of the older Japanese population are demanding the couple divorce. Yukiko tried to put this story across as a scandal, but I managed to get the rest of the class to agree that it is a `modern tragedy`. Both of them seem to love each other very much, but the country won`t let them be. The rest of the class agreed outwardly, but perhaps not genuinely.

To balance this, I had to ask one of my students where her favourite place was and she said it was her toilet. She likes confined spaces. I have some pretty random discussions. Keisuke made me draw ivy on the board yesterday and on Monday a dentist is going to suggest my perfect date.

My Japanese is coming on well now I have the wonderful Yasuda-san on the case. However, there are some Phillipinos in the class who have picked up lots of spoken Japanese, so I am holding everyone back for the most part. They can`t read or write though, so when we do those bits I get to feel a little cocky, which the horrible part of me enjoys.

Today I am being taken for pizza by some students. I was supposed to have fugu - the notoriously fatal puffer fish - but there was standing room only at that restaurant. To the Japanese, pizza is an exotic treat. To me it is a perfect cure for my hangover. Sadly, they will expect me to drink heabiry, but I feel a little too delicate to consider that for the moment. I`m getting my hair done by the fabulous Suzuki-sensei first and hope to invite him to the George tomorrow night. George is after a crimper so has put on a night called `Hair` to entice her out. All the hairdressers of Omiya have been invited just so he can ask this girl along. What lengths some men will go to...

Anyway, got to go and complete the TDA staff survey...

Nipped off again

I`m still in a bit of a mood with Japan. Being told I look much older than my 32 year-old friend, being shoved on trains and not being thanked for offering an old lady a seat (she just offered it to a middle-aged man instead) in a country that prides itself on it`s manners is just getting boring. This week, I have also tired somewhat of the blatant racism the natives exhibit. I teach two Korean children (one is Leesa, although she is called Risa by the staff as it is near enough and will do - those `L` take too much effort, and is on the far left, enthusiastically `peacing` in the photo, and the other is her brother) and both are picked on for their heritage. Koreans are the absolute lowest here. I am fairly lucky. English-speaking gaijin are a popular novelty, non-deformed female gaijin a complete rarity, so I am generally treated well. I do sometimes find it difficult to get the free promotional tissues handed out at stations as the people giving them out are a little scared of the foreigners, or rightfully imagine I wouldn`t have a clue what was being advertised.

Koreans fare far worse. Leesa does fairly well. The children in her class are young enough to muck in and have fun with whoever, but her brother struggles more with his English and is laughed at regularly. None of the children want to sit next to him, some of the girls openly protest when I try to mix up the class (although Mio, god love her, sits patiently beside him and helps him with all his English, probably to the detriment of her own learning) and in any game he becomes the target or fall guy. It is depressing to watch. I sat with him on Thursday to lead him through a writing exercise and heard the other children whispering about us both being gaijin. I like to casually drop some Japanese at points like this so they imagine I understand more than I do. It terrifies and silences them for a couple of minutes, at least.

Raju was explaining the experiences he has had in Japan. Being Bangladeshi, he faces more out and out racism than I will ever encounter, but is admirably stoical about it. Strangely, I bumped into Uriah in a departo on Thursday and off-loaded some rage - he is all too aware of how it goes. It is sometimes hard to remember it is 2006 and I have been questioning this week how far you have to accept the culture of a country you have opted to be in when it is so alien and offensive. `It`s just their way` does not seem good enough. I will challenge `their way` via Yukiko`s diary and see how I get on!

Friday, I had was on standby so had to go straight from a shapeless, pointless meeting in head office to a school in Tamachi, 45 minutes away in central Tokyo. It was nice to get up close to Tokyo Tower, but the journey home was hellish. There were no rapid trains that I could see, so it took over an hour and a half - making it a 12 and a half hour day in a six day week. Saturday, I had sodding Premier Club, a monthly kids` class that makes my day begin two hours early. It snowed heavily so one kid cancelled and the other two just didn`t show. My lay-in was snatched away from me and for nothing.

I did spend part of my day with these two terrors though. Hijiri is very naughty, but massively amusing and Taisei, the little boy, is adorable. He`s a quick learning and generally very obediant. He has started expressing his excitement through smacks (one to my face), so I may be talking less affectionately about him soon. They are brilliant though. Hijiri started when I did and Taisei is fairly new, so all they know is from me. It`s a fair responsibility, but these two are what teaching is all about.

The Three Month Itch

That`s what I`ve been suffering this weekend apparently. Sean consoled me last night and said he went through the same, then we moaned about not finding any new dates, while skulking around the emptiest bars of Omiya...

Friday night, I was begrudgingly sitting down to a night of misery with Jeremy and a hot water bottle, when Aki`s husband, Joe, called to invite me to the George. I went along and was instantly cheered up by Aki`s enthusiasm for mayhem and free drinks. An old man she used to know from her hostessing days (it`s not all prostitution, honestly), turned up in the bar and offered to buy us drinks, but I had unlucky just bought my own (for once, a strange turn of events). She then tried to cadge of my Sponsor, but he is the poorest salaryman in Saitama, so I wouldn`t let her. She was drunk enough anyway. That missing enzyme story seems more and more true, now I`ve seen so many Japanese legless on one beer.

Joe had a couple of friends along with him, a Turkish Parisian and an American called Chad. They were Assistant Language Teachers and brought along an ex-student and a current one. The ex-student has spent time in Australia and swears like a trooper while affecting a patchy British accent. I imagine it would be the same hanging out with Madonna, but without Stella McCartney shoving you in the toilets. Chad seems quite a find. He lives directly behind my building (the girl who lived in my flat before me had waved to him from the balcony and accused him of being Very American, a not-very-British thing to do) and is into sensible music. We had a little chat about the delights of the Clash and teased Joe for not knowing about anything prior to 1989. He then moved on to teasing Aki over her Japanese and she tried to pass off the waiter`s kanji as her own, but then couldn`t even remember the word for love in Japanese (which I, unfortunately for her, could). She erupts into a boisterous Tasmanian Devil the more she drinks and is uncapable of thinking in Japanese!

Saturday was OK, although work was a chore as I was exhausted. It was good to see Raju again. He brought me a small clay elephant back from Bangladesh and took the piss about me and Mr Dandy. Next week, in spite of my new year`s resolution, we`re going to the George to celebrate his birthday. After work, I was supposed to see Karen, but didn`t hear from her, so took myself down the George and hung around the bar irritating George over my Sponsor fancying him. Karen and Akiko, one of Cherry Boy`s friends, came in later, by which time I was drunk and unable to sit in one place, so probably seemed incredibly rude running off to talk to an Iranian stranger at the bar.

Yesterday was more of a chore. I had to get up early to go to Cafe Lamp for a language exchange. Generating conversations with strangers on a few hours` sleep is harder than you can imagine, but I struggled through. I introduced one of the groups to the word tacky with the help of Reveal magazine and discussed cosmetic surgery with another. We then all went to lunch, where I misread the total as being my share and nearly threw it all up again as I didn`t have the cash on me to cover it! My lunch was brought first and the whole table readied itself for my chopstick use, but I insisted I would wait for everyone else`s to arrive before I started. This might be rude in Japan, but I didn`t care - I would only have dropped it down myself had I been forced to attempt it under such scrutiny. Atsushi, who I had lunch with the previous week and so had already seen me capably shovelling food into my mouth, offered me a fork in front of everyone, which was annoying and unnecessary. I did my bit for the British Tourist Board and painted England as a picture of politeness - this week I have become sick of the Japanese claim of being so polite, when really they merely seem to lack the imagination to live without rules: shoving is acceptable; as is telling people they look old or fat; and laughing in someone`s face is par for the course. A receptionist heard another teacher telling me the word for strange and demonstrated this with ‘strange foreigner` as though this was not offensive. As a consequence, at Cafe Lamp I made an enormous fuss about the English being polite, particularly people taking their shoes off in houses, even when it is not necessarily called for, so should you have any Japanese visitors to your homes, make sure you make them do this!

I got invited to a party at the house of one of the students, but couldn`t face the journey (or the effort of talking to him more - taking conversation classes in a second language when you have a stutter seems a strange hobby!) so strolled through the train station and bumped into Sean. He was waiting for a friend and invited me to join them to play pool. I am officially rubbish at it and knocked the balls off the table several times. Still, it was over a tenner for two hours, so I felt obliged to get my money`s worth. We then went for yakiniku, a Korean barbeque. Your table has a hole in the middle with a gas grill and you are given raw meat to cook yourself. We had a tableful of food to play with and I think I have discovered my official Favourite Japanese food (taking the place of gyoza, Chinese dumplings...).

Andy had to head home fairly soon after, but Sean and I carried on with our pub crawl. We found loads of fabulous bars - I probably saw more of Omiya in one day than I had in the previous three months - including one American-style bar, which played lovely old music (Wade In The Water included, which shocked Sean when I started wriggling in my seat to it!) and had a brick wall effect inside. On one side, there was a panel painted of a hole in the wall with a bra hanging off metal bars. We went to another Aki had shown me on Friday night and that gave crackers and Boursin as a free bar snack and directed to a corner table as a big party was expected. Sean was enormously excited at the prospect of pretty girls and we agreed that the faux date would end and he would be my faux brother instead.

The guests were disappointingly ordinary, but a plate of nachos was placed on our table and we nervously, but excitedly scoffed them and hoped we wouldn`t be charged. Halfway through, a mountain of sashimi was put down next to them and Sean had his chopsticks snapped and ready to go just as the waiter realised his error and removed them. He had imagined we were guests at the party, sadly just a little too soon! More guests arrived and hovered around our table, but before I could suggest we move, we were presented with the bill and asked to leave! We then moved on to another bar, enjoyed some Hershey`s Kisses and got kicked out after last orders.

Back to school

Tuesday was my first day back to work after 18 days off. I was desperate to go back. Boredom came around Day 13 and set up camp. To perk myself up, I wore some red tights to work (am I becoming one of those god-awful `wacky` teachers?!) and set the kids tongues wagging. Miku could not believe that such things existed and nudged Tatsuya, who frowned an eight-year-old frown. The Shin-Shiraoka pupils are more conservative than most, so I am weighing up whether to accommodate or counter this. I wonder how they will take the pink and red leg-warmers...

After a highly successful Japanese class (I tried to learn chapters 4 and 5, as we were doing 3), I experimented in the lift with a high school student. I asked him which floor, hit the 5 button and saw him jab at 4 as I left the lift on the third floor... Ah well... I am also attending a new class that one of my old ladies put me onto. Her husband is involved (he`s a very dashing and educated man - you can tell, as they sport a Val Doonican wardrobe) and the teacher is clearly very well trained. She`s proper TEFL rules! We covered everything I have tried to learn so far in one lesson, but it was not bewildering or confusing (which you would expect, as I have been learning it for weeks now), there was no superfluous language and everything was modelled and drilled as I ought to do with my students. I expect to learn more than Japanese from her. Ah, Yasuda-san, you are my hero!

There`s a Canadian called Julian, two Philipino women and a Peruvian boy in the class too. The Peruvian speaks no English at all, so his friendly offer to accompany me to the train station after class was uncomfortable and awkward and not really appreciated! Once our Japanese improves, things will get better. He seems very sweet, but is living in the middle of nowhere, taking classes and claiming to be a tourist. On the way to class, I got a little bit lost and had to ask an old man if I was pointing in the right direction (do not start me on Japanese maps). As I clearly could not even understand right or left (though I find pointing helps), he started to explain, then said `follow me` and trotted off at quite a pace. We managed to exchange some pleasantries about the newly warm weather, but spent most of the journey in uncomfortable silence. It is yet another incentive to learn!

Yesterday, my first afternoon class (including Haishi-san, the wife of the dashing educationalist) decided to throw me a New Year`s party, so we ate cakes and sweets and drank tea, whilst looking through my photos of Kyoto. How they love a photo album. The usual receptionist was off ill, so Tomomi, Riaz`s glamorous girlfriend stood in for her. Tomomi is notoriously quiet and on any outing will sit silently and gaze at Riaz (who is fairly handsome, admittedly), while everyone else shouts and bores their way through the evening. On her own, she is quite different: within sixty seconds of me asking if she enjoyed her break, she had used the word diarrhea four times. The Thai water did not agree with her, it seemed.

Last night, Karen and I went to Pamela`s to drink and console her over her rubbish ex shacking up with a copper. We all drank a fair bit, I talked too much and too loudly and Karen stoically sat back and listened. She`s like a wise, and mute, owl, which is unnerving in a 24-year-old. She should just skip a few years and join the WI.

This morning, I woke up feeling utterly miserable. I think it was too much wine and not enough sleep as much, although a resurgence of homesickness threatens. I miss my friends more and more. Consequently, today has been a mud chute of emotions. To console myself, I took lunch near Omiya`s `Oriental Passage` and had an enormous feast (the waitress could not quite believe I was ordering so much and, one bucket of ramen, a salad bowl of rice and six gyoza later, I realised why) for ￥810. I also treated myself to that fancy bag from Loft and some work trousers from the Gap sale, although having to ask for `massive` took the edge off the pleasure. That said, being massive counts. As with British sales, the only sizes left were unfathomably small and enormous (my size), so I got some handsome slacks for 9 quid.

My sister has updated me on the celebrity housemates. I am gutted that I am missing it. I take it the producers are shamelessly angling for a breakdown and a shag. They should just scatter cider, better still - rohypnol, around the rooms and get some 18-30 reps in as consultants. I wish I could see it - I imagine this series is more painful than any other. If anyone would like to experiment with posting videos, please email my yahoo account for my address!

And, I have heard, my friend Stuart is reaching the heady heights of comedy fame. This week he got recognised in the street by a dustman.

The Wedding Album

Since I`ve returned from Osaka, there really hasn`t been a great deal to do (aside from prompting accusations of excessive drinking which are hugely out of proportion when you watch the rest of this alkie nation), so I have been taking myself and my books to a cafe and eeking out one cup of coffee for six hours, like everyone else in Omiya. It`s not frowned upon in any way and there are free jugs of iced water, should you happen to get thirsty. On my first visit, I was sandwiched between a dozing Salaryman who propped himself up with a ballpoint pen and an old man checking the form. My poor eyesight and the nation`s androgyny led me to ogle a girl in a unisex hat for a while. She would have been amazing as a boy. What a shame for her.

On my second trip, I was surrounded by teachers whose only words I could understand were related to studying and provoked massive guilt; two over-amorous lovers giving the most outlandish display of affection I have yet seen in Japan (it is just not done here and they laugh at foreigners drunkenly snogging in public) as they caressed each other and hand-fed one another a dry-looking bun; and two old men who were discussing something `cute` on the internet (although the word has a far more pervasive meaning here and almost everyone and everything can fall under the term).

I`ve added some pictures of the family wedding. These are for me more than anyone else, although you might be interested in my brother`s new in-laws... The cats have just been included because they are beautiful. They`re Ivy and Willow, Tammi`s babies.

Right now, I am sat next to a Japanese blogger as I type. I think the phenomenon may be bigger here than in America. Even Ryu-san has one, which he showed me, along with his three entries relating to his sickness, when I let slip I didn`t believe he had been so terribly ill the previous day and on the Hoegaarden the next. I think rather than being a liar, he is actually a weakling, although it is apparently his New Year`s resolution to go to the gym. He also wants to grow his hair long and get himself a moustache. I hope it was a misunderstanding when he agreed with all seriousness as I laughed and said I had a better chance of growing one (that said, it is true - he hadn`t shaved for three days and his chin felt like a schoolgirl`s knee - or how I would imagine it would feel, should I ever have any cause to touch one). I ran into him last night. His friends came into the George and immediately left, prompting me to imagine I had been dumped. I ran into him in another bar in the same building and tried to duck away when I saw he was in there, but had been seen and the barman fished me out of the lift, telling me Ryu-san is shy and I should go to talk to him (this is an incredulous lie, although I was too embarrassed to realise this until far later). We managed a fairly reasonable conversation for once, although I suspect it is more to do with his studies than mine. All I could say is `are you serious?` and `really?`. We got there though, I even managed to stick in a couple of hints for a kitten and pass them off as a joke. This seems to be OK, I can only imagine Japanese women demand gifts regularly. My friends have already noticed there are a certain breed who end conversations once they realise their prospective dates are English teachers and therefore relatively poor.

The more I learn about Japanese culture, the more faux pas I am aware I`ve committed (aside from the ones like telling my boss to sod off when he ignored my warmest parting regards on his last night that I have simply accepted as me being drunken me). It seems as well as not wearing my socks to Hidako`s house and so smearing her floors with my mucky paw prints, I also should have pointed my shoes in the right direction. In spite of all these rules of behaviour, the Japanese can still be exceptionally rude. I think they are just a nation of proud OCD sufferers. It does seem, however, calling a man a liar is universally disapproved of.

In a minute, I`m off round Sean`s to see if he`s been accepted by the local DVD store. Entry is by fickle acceptance only. One friend was refused admission until they could prove their Japanese was of a high enough standard and another told, in clear English, that he simply wouldn`t understand the rules and sent on his way. It may be another night of Family Guy, but I am more than happy with that.

I see poor Charles Kennedy has had to step down. What a shame. In solidarity with him, I may consider stopping drinking. People at home are worrying me with their comments about my `excesses` and out here, when people don`t already know and like you, they have less reason to forgive you for being a constant twat.

Happy New Year

It`ll soon be time to take the cards down, so I thought I would put a picture of my festive display on here for prosterity. The homemade Christmas tree has pride of place on the TV (yes, I am watching the Friends video I fished out of the bin). It has grown on me since I ungratefully dismissed it here. I am tempted to keep a few of the cards up for longer than you`re ought to, sod bad luck, they make the place look more homely.
After over a week in Kansai, Rachel and I came back to Omiya for New Year, which I ruined by being far too drunk. We headed out to Tokyo with Karen, Sean, Aki and a few others and had decided on a nice-sounding Russian shot bar, but were over-ruled by boys wanting to pick up Japanese girls. They also refused to listen to Aki`s directions and so we split up and lost them somewhere on the Tokyo subway. We eventually made it to the same bar as them, but less than 30 minutes before midnight. I over-compensated on not being drunk enough by mixing my drinks and downing an Absinthe. A ridiculous idea. My memory flickers from the Hub to Mojo`s and then waking up in my flat to the postman ringing the doorbell and Rachel pointing out I had abandoned her. I was immediately punished for my sins with a hangover verging on alcohol poisoning and was confined to my futon for the rest of the day, only managing to drag myself to the telephone to wish the relatives Happy New Year before collapsing under the blankets once more.

Yesterday was slightly more mobile, I managed to locate two closed post offices to return some stray goods of Rachel`s and to hit Daiei, the supermarket, to gather together the contents of chili con carne to cook for myself and Karen (a tasty dish inspired by Rachel`s meal last week and the Bisto Mum sent for Christmas - thank you!). After eating, we headed to Sean`s (he`s the one you can barely see in the picture with Karen) to drink a little more and watch DVDs on Adam`s laptop (Adam is in the picture below, and looks less creepy in real life). We got through a couple of series of Family Guy, which I`ve never seen before, but may invest in, and a couple of episodes of Spaced, along with a bottle of chilled Japanese red wine, Karen`s sake and a lot of Sean`s Jack Daniels. Surprisingly, today wasn`t as painful as 1st January and I`ve even managed some study - although only learning the kanji for door.

Omiya is as boring as a night in with Nicole Kidman right now. Although most of the shops are open, the post offices and banks aren`t. This isn`t too much of a problem for me, as I removed all my cash from the bank in a panic last week, but I am trying to be sensible with money for once and it means my friends, who were not so well advised (Rachel told me to make sure I had enough on me) can`t afford to do anything. I also need to make sure I have some cash when the post offices do open and also I have my eye on an amazing bag in Loft, which would perfectly replace the old one with the broken zip (I think this classifies as need and not extravagance). Most people are away visiting family, so it is far quieter than usual, though the red light district is a vibrant hub, as ever. I`m back to work on Tuesday, so I will either master Japanese in the next week, eat my own arms or be able to recite the entire scripts to Friends series 5.