Bottoms up.

It’s oh-so quiet, it’s oh-so still…

Nah, nothing of that sort. I’ve been away for a little bit, gone and celebrated Thanksgiving down south. Made an ass of myself, as always, and have come to the realization that I will always be the odd one out. I think I’ve very nearly accepted it, as I feel very ready to embrace it and to let it take me where it will.

Why is it that when people find out I’m a vulgar sort, they expect it to be on every minute of every day? That is but one facet of me! Now I know why some comedians are total jerks offstage; it can get to the point when you feel like a dancing monkey.

Ah, well, this is what happens when you compartmentalize the shit out of everything. I myself hardly know which bit will come out, so it is to be expected when people are surprised.

I float along here. I wish I could spend all day, sitting by my window, admiring the changing leaves.

Too bad that the bread must be earned somehow. Moreover, too much idleness ends up like that one part in Little Women when all the girls stop doing chores and Jo gets a headache from reading too much and Beth gets all upset because the bird dies.

I wish I knew why my head isn’t screwed on in quite the same way as other people. No, I would never want to be anything but me with all my quirks; I’m simply curious (read, narcissistic). For the longest time, I have been an up-and-down believer in the power of nurture, the effect of one’s environment and the experiences one has had on one’s personality and essence. But now I am not so sure. If you look over my personal history, there is no visible external reason for me to have turned out as I did. My parents didn’t encourage anything—not explicitly and intentionally, anyway, though perhaps their parenting style has had some kind of subtle abetting role or at the very least not deterred me from the path that has led me to who I am today—and I don’t think my schooling had a defining influence as other children I went to school with have shot off in completely different directions from me. Was it the books and TV? I would think that would be the other way around, though; I am this way, and therefore I am drawn to those things. Amongst the other Fulbrighters, even, I find numerous shared passions, but something just does not chime within me, like something is different in their approach. Maybe it is the particular combination of things I have met that brings me my discreteness? Yet I cannot believe that there was anything extraordinary about my childhood and youth that would make me as I am. Then again, I am looking for an "Aha! THAT!" moment, something obvious and like a clarion call, when maybe I should be sifting around for slow accretion in the form of accumulation or mutation. Ach, it is just easier to say I was largely born as I am, isn’t it? I am such a lazy bastard.

At any rate, though I am but twenty-two, I think it is time to give up on finding someone else who gets it in the same way as I do. Will it not be a happier existence, if I do not pine for something that will never come? Of course there is a cost. There is that part of me, and now she is bubbling up to a shout, who hates to settle. That insane optimist, always hissing and yowling in some form or another. Still, even if I meet my imaginary wonderful person, would the timing and all those other pesky circumstances be right? Heck, even if those conditions were met, would I be happy or better off somehow? The odds do not side with me. Even so, it’s hard to know who to listen to.

Prior to committing thoughts to paper (well, you know what I mean), I had seriously begun to worry that I was depressed to the point of needing treatment. Oh, believe me, I will never be sunshine and honeysuckle, but having laid things out, I feel that weird excitement again. I am okay with this situation. I’ll probably never find my place, but this could mean I’m one of the lucky ones; you don’t call something remarkable for nothing, right? Even if it ends badly, at least I tried and got to do it my way. Now this all just seems really funny. Like ha-ha. I can’t even explain it. Maybe I’ve finally gone mad, but I won’t tell if you won’t tell.

I think things are starting to turn around. I figured out what the hell the empty feeling was!

I had completely dissociated myself from the notion that I could ever be in love. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but I just had no special affection for anyone and in contemplation of my future, it didn’t enter into my head that I would meet anyone whom I could feel that way about.

But then I saw his picture on Facebook and was given quite the jolt. God, what a sweet guy he was. I bet if you punched him rainbows would fly out. I mean, I’m totally idealizing him, which is easy since I hardly even knew him, but what I did see was really, really good stuff. I remember peeking at his notebook during music civ discussion and seeing his doodles (faces!). I remember that even though he was just a TA, he seemed to genuinely give a shit and make an effort. I remember what his dog’s name is and why. I remember that he sings (and is probably quite good).

Oh, I have no expectation of ever meeting him again and I don’t think it would work out even if we did, but really, the important thing is that I know that people like him exist and that I may chance upon them in my world. It is hope!

Well, it is 1% becoming 20%, but that is actually enough to make me quite happy. At least for now.

Man, what a stupid thing to need, but what can I do? It’s nice to feel this kind of excitement once again, I can tell you that much.

Well, let’s not have mope-a-thon 2009 be the entry at the top of the page for month’s on end, shall we?

Having slept most of today away, I’m feeling a little better.

I’m not sure if it’s stress or what. It’s not like I even have real problems.

I’ll talk about things that make me happy.

Though I’m a bit disappointed that I’m not handling the cold so well (I blame my apartment being drafty), the crisp night air is so great to walk around in. And I love wearing winter coats. I feel so protected and safe and I don’t have to worry.

Night walks are possible here. I need to remember to take more advantage of this before I return to the US.

Food in Japan is great. And people here really like food.

Tokyo is such a big, exciting place.

People generally dress better here.

An old friend found me on Facebook. She has a kid! She’s only slightly older than I am.

All right, off to make dinner and write a letter.

These days, my mind is either as empty as a hobo’s pockets or it’s this feeling.

Cretin time is here again, let’s clap our hands and sit, complain.

I hate young people. It would be easier if I could settle myself with the notion that they are just trying to get through their lives in whatever way they can, but I can’t accept it. That sets the bar so low. There’s taking it easy, and then there’s being a wastrel. Educated young Americans, I don’t understand them at all. I am one, but sometimes I just feel like I’m a secret transplant from a different planet.

I have made some rather rash purchases in the past few days, and you know, that is American and Japanese taxpayer money I am wasting on that Doraemon coloring book. I feel so guilty.

But I’m probably worse than they are, because I feel this way, yet I’m not doing anything to either change my behavior or theirs.

At least this unhappy feeling is better than the unhappy feeling I have when it’s empty. Then I feel like Charlie Gordon, having a vague idea that something is missing and isn’t working, but unable to really become conscious of that fact or even comprehend it. Just ambling along in an insipid zombie shuffle.

The more I think about going home, the more I worry that it’s just going to be shit. My family will terrorize me and finding my own apartment is going to be a nightmare (and cost an arm and a leg) and then the apartment itself is probably going to be far away from ideal and everywhere I go I’ll be drowning in a sea of young-person fucktardedness. And then on top is all the school and research stress. I’m tired of all the people I know, but too much of a shit to make new friends. In Japan now, it is a very lonely existence, but that makes sense considering my crapness at the language. The slow dawning that this condition will persist, though, is too much.

 They’re doing Hedwig and the Angry Inch in Tokyo next month. I really want to go.

Something is off, something is wrong. I don’t feel like me, which feels absolutely terrible. My head’s just empty and I’m all untethered and fluttering away. It’s been like this since the start of the vacation, perhaps since the beginning of summer. Maybe it’s just that I’m not used to not having school, but I have a gut feeling that that isn’t the whole kit and kaboodle. Maybe it’s that I’m not being intellectually engaged. I haven’t picked up a proper book in months nor have I been boning up on my science.

Though writing it all out, something familiar bubbles up. As much as being here has put the forward progression of my life/career on hold and is making me antsy to face the next thing so I can get it over with, I’m afraid of time moving onward. Things are only going to get harder, and I will be tested and driven to the point of madness. More generally, time is scary because I am getting older, and doors will start to close. And too, getting older leads to, at least for most people, unforgivable assholishness, whether it be for becoming too entrenched in one’s ideas and ways or being too cynical because of unhappy life experiences or just getting boring and greedy and selfish. I don’t ever want that to happen to me, but when/if it comes, will I be able to identify it, and will I be able to stop it? Maybe events have gotten beyond my control or some reasoning or other will cause me to fall down into that hole.

In lab, I’ve been listening to bits of Sound & Fury (okay fine, Sink with Kalifornija), which yesterday led me to searching for the band on YouTube, which got me to this video. Watching it reminds me that I could never, ever go to a punk rock show (again; I went to a Bad Religion concert when I was a sophomore in high school and even though I was up in the nosebleed seats, I was so uncomfortable I wanted to sink into the floor), because I wouldn’t be able to handle all that violent movement and getting jostled and I’d stick out like a sore thumb. Particularly with that latter point, you see all those people in their garb and how they act and I’m either hating it or made nervous by it. The nervousness is nothing considering I’m such a skittish little filly, but the hate is more interesting. Wherefore hate? Honestly, a lot of them look like dumb junkie wastoids. Shawn Stern I admire, and the philosophy of the Better Youth Organization appeals to me very much, but I can’t imagine that many of the fans live up to it. It’s like, they’re being all crazy and aggressive and animalistic; they can’t possibly be contributing anything to society or the world. I’m being really unfair, though, because I’m judging based on what I see in concert videos. Huh, I wonder if I had a kid who was really into punk rock (mohawk, chains, spikes, piercings, etc. included), how would I feel? If they adopted the lifestyle, meaning the use of substances and being either a lazy do-nothing or obnoxious anarchist, I’d be ashamed and disappointed. I mean, I’d be fine with it if it was just fashion or they went with the positive aspects like DIY. Hell, if they were like this kid, I’d probably be beaming. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that I’m conservative in this way considering my own preferences and personal beliefs, but it’s a shock to realize that I actually do have some mainstream aspirations.

On a similar theme, I watched Ginger Snaps today. Having confused it for the longest time with Cookie’s Fortune, a review of the former on AV Club corrected that notion yesterday. Cult film, werewolves (bonus points for pairing lycanthropy with puberty), horror movie, set in high school, weird kids as the leads…shit, where do I sign up to watch? It was just okay, though. Brigitte and Ginger were hard for me to like (these bitches were way too god damn out there) and the dialogue seemed kind of flat (though that could’ve been because the copy I watched had crap audio) and the plot and tone felt all over the place. Some good scares (at least for a chicken baby like me) and kinky shit, but I wouldn’t make a special effort to watch it again. One thing that I was able to lock into was Brigitte feeling all weirded out by Ginger’s nascent sexuality/bloodlust/general desire to do bad things. Hello me all through high school and college.

I suppose now would be as good a time as any for a bit of confession. Since arriving in Japan, I’ve gone drinking at least four times. I think the drinks in Japan are extremely weak or watered down, because I can hardly taste any of the usual nasty burn and bitterness. Each time, I’ve had at most three drinks (usually two) and this was while eating, but it’s been enough to make me feel lightheaded and a bit discombobulated. That much alcohol isn’t all that different from how I feel when I haven’t been getting enough sleep or have been awake for too long. That’s not the point, though. One, I have a more personal understanding of why people drink now, as a means to loosen up and have fun. On the one hand, maybe it’s nice that I’m not being as hard-nosed and closed-minded about it, but I still feel lousy about having partaken. What happened to my great love of Ian MacKaye’s monologue in Another State of Mind? I tried it, and no harm came to me; perhaps it really is nothing and I’ve overreacted. That doesn’t sit well with me, though, and I continue to feel like I’ve betrayed my own ideals. Which leads us to two, which is that I was drinking only to fit in and not make things awkward. I could pledge now to no longer do that, but I don’t think it’s a promise I could keep. Being in a foreign country is so hard and any chance to not be left out is quite a gossamery thing. Having written it out, though, I hope I will be able to remember and be firm. I will make Millie Kentner proud.

On that, god damn, Maureen in the Vampire Diaries. I knew that face was familiar and it wasn’t until I saw the cast listing on IMDb that I recognized her. Still playing a high schooler, nine ding-dang years later. Maybe Maureen was at McKinley for a year and then had to move again, this time to wherever the hell Mystic Falls is (looked it up: it’s Virginia) and got all depressed and became a junkie. Oh, well, her character’s dead now (thank goodness, she was making me pine for Lauren’s bullshit), so ashes to ashes. Also, backtracking, Sarah Hagan was on Buffy? As a potential? This thing just keeps going in fucking circles.

Anyway, I’m still not feeling normal. While I’m here, away, I don’t think I will, but let’s keep our fingers crossed that this doesn’t persist once I return home.

It’s up up down down (left right left right B A start). I continue to disappoint myself in the level of Japanese I communicate at. The words and grammar are in my head, but they’re all crystallized. Well, some stuff I just plain forgot and can’t recall for the life of me, but I definitely have those, "Man, I should have said [X]!" moments a lot.

On the research end, also disappointment, as I’m obviously really god damn slow (like speedwise in performing tasks) and need to work a lot on perfusion and cutting technique. At least I have some semblance of my own project now. Barrel cortex! Don’t know a god damn thing about it.

And don’t really have friends, no. However, I am saying fuck work on Monday and going to get some culture (museums, book fair) with one of the lab’s techs. She doesn’t speak much English at all, and as always, I wonder if asking me to go do stuff wasn’t motivated by pity, but all this worrying hurts my brain, so I’m trying to just stomp out any doubt. I’m missing more work throughout November and December, and lord knows what will happen when I start getting visitors. When the hell am I ever going to get any science done?

What else? I’m grateful for this year off, overall. I consider it a working holiday. I’m probably going to be working with mice for my graduate research, so this is a good primer, and I’m getting a lot of practice, so hopefully by the end of this year I’ll be the fucking Flash when it comes to doing things like painting on little slices of brain tissue onto slides.

Also, it warms my heart so much to picture Thom Yorke listening to Polaris. I suppose Mark Mulcahy and the man have somewhat similar singing styles. Of course, having not listened to Miracle Legion at all, I spent a good chunk of this evening getting things ready to rectify that situation. Anyway, as always, it’s such a good feeling to see 1) a real world example that I’m not alone in my enjoyment of this jangly "college rock" sound and 2) that I’m not crazy for my enjoyment, because he in particular likes it (i.e., he legitimizes my taste because he is someone in the know and who is himself extremely good at the music he makes and has others in his field who idolize him).

Lastly, Jiz. Jem was before my time of awareness and all I have as a basis is that catchy-as-shit theme song, but really, this is just The Juggernaut Bitch!! all over again, but with slicker dubbing and voice acting. The jokes are ones I would totally make, but I could never do that perfect gravelly man-pretending-to-be-a-lady-but-not-really voice, so while I’m a bit miffed that I didn’t think of it first, it’s more envy of their bright ideas as well as their abilities.

Well, Pavement’s four dates in New York are sold out, so they’d better be doing some touring some place else or I will have an aneurysm.

Also, I went and bought all of Malkmus’s solo shit. I picked up some other things, too: Beach Boys, Minor Threat (bit worried because sometimes I think I just like them because of the philosophy, but then I hear In My Eyes and I’m all electrified over those guitars and drums), B-52’s. My mother is going to kill me but she is very far away right now so it just seems less real.

Anyway, it has pretty much been a god damn nonstop Pavement party for the last few days. I finally get Slanted and Enchanted, as in really enjoy the tracks and want to listen to most of them individually, which is great if I ever actually get to see them in person. I’m fucked for Brighten the Corners, though, outside of Stereo and Shady Lane. I’m still waiting on Nicene Creedence to get cheap like what I did with the first three. Man, I just might cave in any day now because I heard the first couple of notes from Transport Is Arranged passing over a live video on YouTube and fell in love with the band all over again. Also, if, as Wikipedia seems to think, the deluxe version of Terror Twilight is going to be subtitled Farewell Horizontal, I will explode with joy. Bob Nastanovich wouldn’t go on the tour, but that’s going to be his legacy.

Okay, enough with the white boys. How am I in Japan? Today, not so fab. I hate making template (phenol/chloroform and chloroform unpleasantness) and my language skills were nil today. Nothing anybody said made sense, and I didn’t have the energy or the brains to say more than yes or no. Hitting my stride my eye. One of the techs asked me if I’d made friends yet and I said no and gave her a BS reason why. I think I’m supposed to be making Japanese friends, but pretty much anytime I see another person alone who appears to be foreign, I try to talk to them. It has not been so successful so far, as I typically don’t get any extended time to have an actual conversation. And well, I’m awkward as shit anyway.

But we continue to abide, and dream that tomorrow we’ll be a little bit lucky, and a little bit braver.

I’m looking at you, Pixies and Pavement. In a similar vein, The Walkmen, as they didn’t come to my hometown or Chicago until after I’d left both places (Pitchfork don’t count; I would’ve been paying just to see them and uh, I just don’t love them THAT much). Pavement is not so bad because they’re not scheduled to play in the US until September 2010, but I am a bit concerned that the Central Park dates will be it. But there’s a lot of time until then and I can make a decision. Pixies is tougher, because they’re on that Doolittle thing right now which is making its way through Europe and Oceania. Supposedly maybe there will be a new record, which would mean touring in the US, but that’d be promoting the new thing, and if it’s an entire album of Bam Thwok! I’m better off buying loudQUIETloud or one of the DVDs from the last reunion tour.

Who am I kidding? Even if these bands come to the right place at the right time, I will never get tickets because there will be crazies who are that much more dedicated to the band and willing to camp out in line or are skilled in the ways of procuring these things. And no one would come to see them with me anyway. It’s such a fucking pain in the ass for my friends to have different musical tastes.

God, if only I had a time machine to 1999. I would go see Pavement on the Terror Twilight tour and tell everyone waiting for them to play Cut Your Hair to go eat shit and die. (Cut Your Hair is an awesome song, though.) Mmm, their first show at Irving Plaza that summer. The set list is as close as we’re going to get to perfect, I think. They play Ann Don’t Cry, anyway, and that song always turns me into jello. Part of that is probably if you think of the song as SM breaking up with Pavement. The version they do for the BBC session is prettier, though, because they play more with the outro. Maybe it’s just because the audio balance is better on my copy of the BBC set? I do like that little bit about his sister after the song, though.

At any rate, fucking Pavement, fucking with my head again. I have a bad feeling they’re only back together because they got kids they need to support, but 1) I can understand that and 2) who fucking cares as long as it sounds good. Stephen’s solo shit has been quite enjoyable, Preston School of Industry had some gems, Mark is now a member of Sonic Youth (I just found this out two minutes ago), Westie is doing his own thing and I haven’t heard Marble Valley but if he’s making a living he can’t be totally shit, and Bob takes people on dates to Ikea, so it’s not like they forgot how to make good music.

So, you know, I am pissing-my-pants excited thinking I might get to see Pavement live. They’ve actually come to Japan, but that’s wishful thinking that they’ll come here before the US and UK.

As for life in Japan, there are good days and so-so ones. Yesterday was quite good, as I had a very entertaining conversation with some of the people at the lab. Today was also not bad, because I finally found the discount store I’ve been looking for since I got here. The front lot is all junk strewn (recycling or trash, no idea, a lot of it looked rusty, though) and the inside is dingy and a little bit disorganized and they don’t sell any fresh produce and half the store is junk food and the other half is housewares-y stuff and wildly unfashionable slouchy clothing. It’s so ghetto compared to the other places I’ve been to (ranking, most up-market to least: Itō Yokadō, Summit, Sundi, Jason (mind, considerable gap between 1 and 2)), but that’s the charm. I wish it were closer to my apartment. Still, at least I know how to get there now and I got a good long walk in the process. Tomorrow promises more adventure, and I’m hoping I’m hitting a good stride.

I’ve been in Tokyo for four days now (since Tuesday afternoon), and so far have managed to not get myself killed or injured.

Really, that’s about where it stands, though. I can’t say "at least I haven’t made an ass of myself" or "at least I haven’t offended everyone and their mother."

There is one bright spot, however. The other students are ALL people that I enjoy talking to. I am utterly amazed. Even though their projects are on really far removed subjects, it isn’t cliqueish at all and everyone is very open and friendly. I remember looking at the list and being so freaked out that I would be isolated again. I think it helps that we all have this common interest in Japan and share some kind of adventurousness that inspired us to choose to live on our own in a foreign country for an entire year. It’s really refreshing for me to interact with people who are willing to give new things a shot. I’m so fucking sick of watching people do the same shit every day and ignore the potential good of new situations. I don’t deal well with change and I enjoy routine a lot, but taking the "if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it" tack also means nothing ever gets better.

Anyhow, orientation is wearing and schmoozing is wearing and my butt is itching to get to my actual location and meet my advisor and get settled in and start doing the science. Also, I need to get my ass to City Hall and various suchlike places and that will be something if I don’t have a Japanese person to do the listening and talking for me.

I feel sort of like a juggler who’s got all their balls in the air, but at least for now, I have resolved to push this year and go out and about and talk to people and enjoy this thing for all it’s worth.

Tuesday, 4 August 2009, 22:40

If things continue as they are now, I’m leaving Chicago with a sigh and a whimper.

But there’s still a bit of time and I may yet depart in a blaze of glory.

Even if that doesn’t work out, there will be many places I’ll be leaving in future, so my time may come at some point. Really, you can’t go anywhere but down once you hit that high point, so perhaps it’s for the best.

At this moment, I feel totally ridiculous. I try so bloody hard to be reasonable about things, and then I just fall apart at the seams and want the whole world to go away and leave me alone.

Sunday, 13 September 2009, 16:45

Well, you find me on the other side of my vacation, and by and large, predictions from the last posted entry came true. Not terribly pleasant, punctuated by a few nice meals and good bargains. I hadn’t even thought about what I’d written so I don’t think it was a self-fulfilling prophecy, but I don’t deny the possibility that it had an influence while lurking in the back of my mind.

But all this ugly bickering and heavy ennui has given me that necessary bit of excitement about my impending trip to Japan. At this point we are two days away and I have secured housing and gotten a sense of the lay of the land there, so all that’s left is to move in and fill out the paperwork. Those are non-trivial matters, but I’d rather be moving forward and living in my own place than hanging around here treading water and imposing on people’s hospitality. Throughout this trip, I’ve been trying to practice my Japanese, either translating things I’ve just said or imagining conversations in daily life situations, and it’s still very, very bad. Up until today or yesterday, I was terrified of how poorly I would fare because of this problem, but now I think I can just push through it. Sign language, using my electronic dictionary, katakana-ing the hell out of English words, or just plain speaking English, I’ll survive even if my current Japanese knowledge isn’t good enough. Maybe this time here with my mother and relatives has ground me into apathy, but that’s not a bad thing if it’s made me hungry for work and (interesting, worthwhile) challenge again.

In other news, I looked at this this morning, which lead me here through the comments. Don’t know whether this article is legit or not (a little searching tells me it was printed in November 1998 in Esquire Magazine, but I can’t find proof from Esquire itself), though for the first few pages the stories sounded very familiar like I’d read them in other sources. Yes, it’s a very touching, sweet article (though the children’s storybook bit gets gimmicky), but I left feeling like I shouldn’t have read it. It made Mr. Rogers seem creepy, and maybe even insipid. Perhaps that is a sign of how cynical I have become; part of me can’t help wonder if the man was just putting on an act. But it wouldn’t be your run-of-the-mill "kiddie show host is actually a debauched, money-hungry asshole" story. The article makes a point of emphasizing how deeply religious Fred Rogers was, how he asked a child with cerebral palsy to pray for him because he wanted the intercession of someone who had to be close to God because they’d suffered so much or how he was "greedy for the grace that people offer him." I don’t know, maybe I am just creeped out and confused because I don’t understand religion. Also, it could be that the author has inferred a lot (e.g., I doubt he actually interviewed the boy with cerebral palsy to find out his true reaction to Mr. Rogers’s request). It’s hard for me to say; I must admit that I don’t want the ideal image I have of this man to be tarnished. Still, even if he was something of a religious nut, his desire to educate children was very much real and good and powerful, and if anyone deserves to go to a good place, it’s him.