August 15, 2008
Dear Diary,
It seems I have not adequately described my living situation. Basically I live a ways outside of Tokyo, a place the residents would call a “town”, but this said town is bigger than flipping Anchorage (our biggest city). Everyone here gets around by bus or car. Since my Aunt goes to school ridiculously early Koichi and I will be riding the bus together. So I get all dressed in my uniform and keep my hair down because the Japanese are Nazis and don’t like people having funky hair, however amazing haircuts are acceptable. So I go out to the bus stop and see Koichi sitting on the bench with his uniform and his Panda hat on. We rode the bus together in silence
The entire day of school was fairly extraordinary. The students kept talking to me in Japanese-English, shall we call it Janglish? Anyway, they were so excited to have me here as if seeing a white girl was something new. I had art today and I sat with Koichi and some girls named: Miyo, Kisuku, and Kei. The weirdest conversations are had here. For instance we discussed that if mass can neither be created nor destroyed then where do babies come from? The answer: mutated mass. Dear Diary, these people are weird.
Becca
August 16, 2008
Dear Diary,
Oh my God. So I was in English class with Koichi and two girls named Chihiro and Kaede when Aunt Shellie announced that we were going to do a skit in English on who our hero was. Koichi was quick to get me as a partner since I was a native speaker. Then Koichi and I began to talk about who our hero was. He was listing off Japanese celebrities and historical figures while I listed of Western heroes. Can you believe he didn’t know who Chuck Norris is? Anyway my aunt comes up to me and asks if we’d take in another student into our group. Reluctantly we let him in. I forgot the boy’s name, but his name is not important. So finally I list off a name Koichi knows: Santa.
“Yes, I know Santa-san!” Thank God I was running out of ideas! Alas, our new teammate was not happy with this choice.
“Segata Sanshiro!” he said. I asked him who it was and the boy launched into an impersonation and explanation of who this man was. So, like a good American I opted for a vote. Koichi and I voted for Santa while the other boy voted for Segata Sanshiro. So he starts pouting while we discuss our roles in the skit. I was to be Santa-san while the two boys would be children awaiting my Christmas presents. Soon Aunt Shellie called us all to our desks. The first group to go was Chihiro or “Hiro” and Kaede. Their hero: the Pillsbury Dough Boy. Their skit: epic! Next it was us, Koichi took his place and uttered his words of great happiness in waiting for Santa-san. The other boy could be seen sulking in the corner. Ignoring him I went forth with the show.
“Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas little boy!” I say and open up my backpack made toy sack. From behind me jumped the boy. He did a roundhouse kick.
“Hiya! I am Segata Sanshiro! Here is your Sega Saturn!” he thrust a book at Koichi. I was dumbfounded and pissed. I went to the corner and covered my face while Koichi played along. He bowed.
“Th-thank you Segata Sanshiro for the awesome game system. I love it!”
Becca
Monday, December 7, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
I hate this...
August 13, 2008
Dear Diary,
I was picked up from Narita airport today by my aunt and her stupid dog. I have not seen this woman since I was three yet she said she could pick me out of the crowd easy. She says that it was because I have my mother’s face, I say it’s because I’m in Japan and I’m a foot taller than everyone here. After she picked me up we went out to eat at an American restaurant. Their American food sucked. The waiters were dressed like cowboys and tried out their English on Aunt Shellie and me. I had a cheeseburger and Aunt Shellie had a slice of pizza. They put corn on her pizza. Who puts corn on pizza? I hated the place; however Aunt Shellie says it’s a popular hangout for when the students come into town. In protest I took their forks.
After this I went to my aunt’s house. The car she had was tiny and I had to sit in the front because Uki liked shotgun. I hate that dog. My legs were squished up to my shoulders, I feel like sardines. So, we get to her house and she takes me to a spare room on the second floor. She said it was a spare room but judging the amount of stuffed crap in the corner I think she just shoved a bed into the room and called it mine. She left me to unpack and I did so. To my dismay I found my uniform in the dresser. The colors are blue and gray. I hate skirts; in Alaska I did not wear skirts because it was flipping ten below outside. Aunt Shellie says she will introduce me to the neighbors tomorrow.
Becca
August 14, 2008
I met the neighbors today. The neighbor to our right is the Sato family, to our left the Yamada family. The Sato family has two children: Koichi and Akane. Koichi will be going to the same high school as me but his sister is still in junior high so I will not see her. The Yamada family has only one child whose name is Kisuku.
So something strange happened to me today. I was sitting in my room reading a book when I had the idea of looking up. I did so and looked out the window only to realize it looked straight into the window of Koichi. I stared into the window and saw Koichi, only there was something odd. The boy was holding a long yard stick like thing in his hand and wore a panda hat. He was jumping around his room and swinging his sword like a samurai warrior. Dear diary, my neighbor thinks he is a ninja and he scares the crap out of me.
Becca
Dear Diary,
I was picked up from Narita airport today by my aunt and her stupid dog. I have not seen this woman since I was three yet she said she could pick me out of the crowd easy. She says that it was because I have my mother’s face, I say it’s because I’m in Japan and I’m a foot taller than everyone here. After she picked me up we went out to eat at an American restaurant. Their American food sucked. The waiters were dressed like cowboys and tried out their English on Aunt Shellie and me. I had a cheeseburger and Aunt Shellie had a slice of pizza. They put corn on her pizza. Who puts corn on pizza? I hated the place; however Aunt Shellie says it’s a popular hangout for when the students come into town. In protest I took their forks.
After this I went to my aunt’s house. The car she had was tiny and I had to sit in the front because Uki liked shotgun. I hate that dog. My legs were squished up to my shoulders, I feel like sardines. So, we get to her house and she takes me to a spare room on the second floor. She said it was a spare room but judging the amount of stuffed crap in the corner I think she just shoved a bed into the room and called it mine. She left me to unpack and I did so. To my dismay I found my uniform in the dresser. The colors are blue and gray. I hate skirts; in Alaska I did not wear skirts because it was flipping ten below outside. Aunt Shellie says she will introduce me to the neighbors tomorrow.
Becca
August 14, 2008
I met the neighbors today. The neighbor to our right is the Sato family, to our left the Yamada family. The Sato family has two children: Koichi and Akane. Koichi will be going to the same high school as me but his sister is still in junior high so I will not see her. The Yamada family has only one child whose name is Kisuku.
So something strange happened to me today. I was sitting in my room reading a book when I had the idea of looking up. I did so and looked out the window only to realize it looked straight into the window of Koichi. I stared into the window and saw Koichi, only there was something odd. The boy was holding a long yard stick like thing in his hand and wore a panda hat. He was jumping around his room and swinging his sword like a samurai warrior. Dear diary, my neighbor thinks he is a ninja and he scares the crap out of me.
Becca
August 12, later…
Dear Diary,
As I have said before my life sucks. However in the past two hours on this international flight to Tokyo it has gotten progressively more like one of those expensive vacuumed cleaners. If an engineer were to capture the degree of suck that my life has then they would be able to make one of those black hole things that was in that new Star Trek movie. In that movie Kirk was such a little bi-ach, why would you tell Spock that he didn’t love his mother? God, I hate Kirk. Picard is better. Anyways…
The reason for my life being worse than it was before was the first and worst possible thing. The batteries to my MP3 player died and I am left with no book. Then this flight attendant comes and offers me some of those pretzels. I said yes and asked for apple juice only to find out they are out and all they had was cranberry! Who drinks cranberry juice? It’s nasty! So when she comes with my nasty cranberry juice and my pretzels. I go to open the bag only to find, yes, that they will not open! I pull and pull and when they finally open my arm goes flying and I slam my hand into the gut of some fat Asian man. He starts to shout at me in Japanese or something. And the worst part is that the pretzels went all over the floor and I couldn’t get anymore because the flight attendants are evil. Luckily we will be landing soon. Thank God.
Becca
Dear Diary,
As I have said before my life sucks. However in the past two hours on this international flight to Tokyo it has gotten progressively more like one of those expensive vacuumed cleaners. If an engineer were to capture the degree of suck that my life has then they would be able to make one of those black hole things that was in that new Star Trek movie. In that movie Kirk was such a little bi-ach, why would you tell Spock that he didn’t love his mother? God, I hate Kirk. Picard is better. Anyways…
The reason for my life being worse than it was before was the first and worst possible thing. The batteries to my MP3 player died and I am left with no book. Then this flight attendant comes and offers me some of those pretzels. I said yes and asked for apple juice only to find out they are out and all they had was cranberry! Who drinks cranberry juice? It’s nasty! So when she comes with my nasty cranberry juice and my pretzels. I go to open the bag only to find, yes, that they will not open! I pull and pull and when they finally open my arm goes flying and I slam my hand into the gut of some fat Asian man. He starts to shout at me in Japanese or something. And the worst part is that the pretzels went all over the floor and I couldn’t get anymore because the flight attendants are evil. Luckily we will be landing soon. Thank God.
Becca
The Begining...
August 12, 2008
Dear Diary,
Hello my name is Becca and I am a kleptomaniac. And this is a journal. As of today I am under the custody and supervision of my darling aunt in Japan to whom I am being shipped. My aunt, let us call her Shellie, is an English teacher here. She is childless, without a significant other, and dotes upon her Mittel German Spitz named Uki. I suppose this is cruel and unusual punishment, but not my parents or the court system agree with me. This is not all my fault. Really, it’s not.
I suppose I really should start from the beginning. I am, as I stated before, a kleptomaniac. I take things, small things, insignificant things, but things that are generally not mine; however apparently stealing a fountain pen from the governor’s desk while on a field trip is frowned upon in mainstream society. I also suppose that taking a traffic cone while the governor, her secretary, and security while the chase you down the street is also frowned upon. It was after I was threatened with a law suit and my parents’ mental upheaval that the decision was made that I should be sent away to be around new people. I ultimately had two options: the first to go to my grand uncle who had a PhD in Medieval Studies whom lived in Maine; however this was quickly squashed after a tragic accident in Cornwall when he tried to demonstrate the physics of the Arthurian legend of the sword and the stone to a physics professor. He died. The second option was my Aunt Shellie in Japan, and that children, is how I have come to be on this plane to Japan.
Some people might think of this decision as some amazing thing to happen but it really is not. I had a life, believe it or not, back in Alaska. Honestly, I am not really into the whole Anime thing…so really this is all the beginning of the end for me. I do not want to go to Japan and I do not want to go to school where there will be uniforms.
Dear Diary, my life sucks.
Becca
Dear Diary,
Hello my name is Becca and I am a kleptomaniac. And this is a journal. As of today I am under the custody and supervision of my darling aunt in Japan to whom I am being shipped. My aunt, let us call her Shellie, is an English teacher here. She is childless, without a significant other, and dotes upon her Mittel German Spitz named Uki. I suppose this is cruel and unusual punishment, but not my parents or the court system agree with me. This is not all my fault. Really, it’s not.
I suppose I really should start from the beginning. I am, as I stated before, a kleptomaniac. I take things, small things, insignificant things, but things that are generally not mine; however apparently stealing a fountain pen from the governor’s desk while on a field trip is frowned upon in mainstream society. I also suppose that taking a traffic cone while the governor, her secretary, and security while the chase you down the street is also frowned upon. It was after I was threatened with a law suit and my parents’ mental upheaval that the decision was made that I should be sent away to be around new people. I ultimately had two options: the first to go to my grand uncle who had a PhD in Medieval Studies whom lived in Maine; however this was quickly squashed after a tragic accident in Cornwall when he tried to demonstrate the physics of the Arthurian legend of the sword and the stone to a physics professor. He died. The second option was my Aunt Shellie in Japan, and that children, is how I have come to be on this plane to Japan.
Some people might think of this decision as some amazing thing to happen but it really is not. I had a life, believe it or not, back in Alaska. Honestly, I am not really into the whole Anime thing…so really this is all the beginning of the end for me. I do not want to go to Japan and I do not want to go to school where there will be uniforms.
Dear Diary, my life sucks.
Becca
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