Lauren: man, i hope i don't get on your bad side
you gots grudges
i do too though
Gabe: I have no grudges
I'm rancorous
thats different
Lauren: like a rancor?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rancor

Gabe: HAHAHAH
perchance
Its too early to show me ugly things like that
Lauren: sorry
it's never too early for jedi
Gabe: sez you
Lauren: who knows if you might see a rancor this morning
you might need to defeat it
i suggest tricking him into eating an explosive charge

Gabe: I can use mind tricks
Lauren: are you dark or light?
Gabe: im a new breed, right down the centre
Lauren: well, you don't want to be that
i can tell you that right now
that just means you're not very GOOD at your skills, but you have a lot of them
Gabe: hahahha
NO
Lauren: and it's "center" here in amurrca
if you're dark like Lord Vader
you get cool mind tricks
force push
force choke
lightning bolts
Gabe: I wanna be good
but I had a ruff life
Lauren: if you're light, you have wussy things
like heal
and be nice to fawns
but i guess your soul doesn't wither to nothing

...we're not friends anymore, are we?
kevin put an end our friendship the other day
when i likened myself to captain picard and him to commander riker
Gabe: hahaha
can I be that one telepathic woman
but not Geordi
Lauren: well, if you are her, you have to do kevin
but that's fine
Gabe: k

One of my favorite things about my Japanese co-workers is their almost childlike innocence. I suppose it stems from their lack of vocabulary, but I like to imagine that this is how they actually talk with other adults.

Take, for example, the conversation I had with Spiky-sensei yesterday. I had cnn.com open to an article with an unflattering picture of Boy George (aren't they all these days? Put down the Twinkie, George!) about his inability to get a US visa, and Spiky-sensei stopped in his tracks.

Spiky: He is...dead?
Lauren: No. He just can't get a visa to the US.
Spiky: Oh...but he is gay.
Lauren: Yes, he is. But still no visa.
Spiky: Who is dead?
Lauren: Um, George Carlin? Do you know him? (I open a picture.)
Spiky: Eeeeh, no. I don't know. Is he gay?
Lauren: I don't think so.
Spiky: Do you know Queen? Freddy Mercury?
Lauren: Yes, he is dead.
Spiky: Also, he is gay.

So there's the highlight of my lunch hour. Maybe I should present him later with a Venn Diagram of Dead People Vs. Gay People, and we can chat about it more at a later date.

My students, however, are not that innocent (♫ Oh, baby, baby).
I'm in charge of a group of kids who clean the bike rack area every day after school. They rotate classes, and every so often I get a lovable bunch of hooligans who suddenly can speak all the English they "forget" in the classroom.

I asked them their names a few months back, because I couldn't read the kanji, and the 4 boys introduced themselves as Lucy, Catherine, Bob, and Robot Gonzales.
Hooligans I tells ya.

So yesterday I was getting them to clean the top floor of the bike area, and they were complaining as best they could.

Robot: Finished!
Lauren: You're not finished. Today, we clean the second floor.
Lucy: But tomorrow is holiday.
Lauren: Tomorrow's not a holiday.
Lucy: Yes. Cleaning holiday.
Lauren: Let's go. If you are fast, we will finish soon.
Robot: But Lauren-sensei, you are so cute.
Lauren: No, I'm not. Cleaning!
Lucy: Very cute.
Lauren: Thank you, but we're still cleaning.
Robot: There is nothing.
Lauren: What? I see trash right there!
Robot: Oh, good eye! Good eye!
Lucy: No, beautiful eye.
Robot: Beautiful eye. We are finished now.

And with no more trash in sight of my one beautiful eye, I reluctantly let them finish. Then they always mistake the "Good job" I tell them in English at the end of cleaning for the Japanese counterpart "Otsukaresamadeshita," which I think means half goodbye, half thanks for working hard today. And in Japanese, everyone just says it to each other, no matter who actually did the work. So when I dismiss everyone, I bow and tell them "Good job!" for their cleaning, and they all respond with a hearty "Good job!" I guess for ordering them around so well. I love this country.

I wanted to round off my stay in Japan by remembering some things I'll miss about my time here, and some things I will be ever so happy to be without when I leave.

Today's topic: Restaurants!

I'll miss so much about restaurants. No tipping, for one thing, which is just a godsend. Being a former waitress, I do feel strange not giving someone a monetary appreciation for a job well done, but when you're dining out with a huge group, it really makes things go smoother. No one is shafted. The normal human beings don't overcompensate in tips because the cheap people didn't account for gratuity. Also, tax is incorporated into the menu price (Can you imagine?), so when you've got a huge group splitting a bill, you just open the fucking menu and get out a calculator. And no one pays over, no one rounds up. If your bill is 3,999 yen, and you leave 4,000 this waitress will follow you to the damn train station to give you your one yen piece back. It's glorious.

What I will NOT miss is tiny, tiny glasses. I didn't think they made glasses this small. And no one in Japan seems to care. There are also no refills on soda or anything, unless you pay double to get "Drink Bar," which is basically an overhyped Soda Fountain you would find in any KFC for no additional charge in the states.

I will not miss not getting napkins. Forget about cloth napkins, which I will wrap around my head with glee like a babushka once I finally see them again. The paper napkins literally feel like a piece of paper. A tiny piece of paper. They are about as absorbent as the receipt, and I'll be they could just save money by just shoving old receipts in the napkin holder.

But if these few things would change, dining in Japan would be a flawless experience. Well, besides the food, of course. But that's another entry.

Holy crap. When I put it like that, it's damn near uncanny.
...

After many, MANY people's attempts to teach me poker, something finally sunk in a few weeks ago. My dad "taught" me when I was little, and I could get the rules just fine, but I didn't understand why people bluffed or to what end.

I played once on the ski bus in high school and lost all my Sour Patch Kids to a chick who had four queens, beating my three aces, which I had calculated to be a statistical impossibility. Male friends the world across have sat down to try and indoctrinate me into this one realm of guyhood I'd never yet been able to understand, and could not truly call myself a tomboy if I didn't master.

Then last week, something clicked, and now I'm hooked, along with my friend Bex. Charlotte and Gabe tag along for the LOLs, and Dave and Kevin bring their poker faces and empty wallets in which to soon collect all our yennies.

Unfortunately, I am the worst liar in the world. Unfortunately, certain friends of mine know me very well, and like to exclaim to the table "Lauren's got 2 kings; I fold" because apparently it's a "tell" if you start twitching and giggling uncontrollably when the "flop" is displayed.

Here are some other very important things I've learned in the two weeks I've been playing.

• When you have a certain good hand, do not start humming the "Full House" theme song.
• If you have a straight, don't count the numbers with your fingers, even if you have OCD and you can't be sure you've had such good luck if you don't count the numbers out 5 times. You have a straight, it's true. Now work it.
• Asking for the paper with the winning hand combinations written on it is also considered a "tell."
• People don't actually say "too rich for my blood" when they fold, and if they do, their friend Kevin makes fun of them for it.
• Wearing a green visor IS actually a prerequisite, and if you lend it to Bex, she will win all your money.
• Lauren never bluffs. Kevin always bluffs. Unless you decide to call him. Then he has a royal flush.
• Holy shit, I just got why people say "call your bluff." Wow. I feel alive for the first time in my life.
• After you finish playing and head for the last train, do not talk to the drunken man who owns the winery next door. He will point at you and call you "Bill Gates." Even if you insist you are a woman and take off your glasses, he will still insist, "Yes, beautiful, but Bill Gates."

I look forward to many more weekends of losing my money to Bex, Kevin, and Dave.
--Beautiful Bill Gates

I'd like to watch a game show where the contestants close their eyes and try to tell the difference between Conor Oberst's singing and a bleating goat.

It should be called either "More Like Conor GOATBerst, Am I Right, Guys?" or "Bah-right Eyes"; I haven't decided. I'll let you know when I've had more sleep.

Heh, sorry, guys. I meant to post that last entry into my dream blog, not my main one. I guess the cat's out of the bag. I'm a firm believer in never forcing your dreams on people, because they're almost never as hilarious or interesting as you think they are. But I am also a hypocrite, so I made a dream blog, if people care to see what goes on in my wacky overactive subconscious. Enjoy.

I do want to share with you my big day yesterday. It's funny. I go on these exotic adventures to temples and seedy underbellies of Japan, and what I'm inspired to write about is my trip to the grocery store two weeks later.

It's because the adventure stories aren't really stories. They're more like: "Then I ate some Thai food. Then I felt sick. Then my friends yelled at me for not drinking because I felt sick. Then 5 hours later, I'm dead tired, walking around the Gay District of Tokyo, not that there's anything wrong with that, trying to prevent various friends from spitting pistachio shells at rude bartenders, even if it is really funny and he totally deserves it."

But yesterday, I had a fun day. I handed tests back and used up the rest of the class by having the kids fill in Penny Arcade comics with hilarious results. Afterwards, I went shopping at the "Western" grocery store in town.

I really enjoy shopping in Japan for some reason. It's really calming to me. I like seeing new foods to try, finding stuff I didn't think existed in Japan, and I always have my iPod on, and I unintentionally rock out in the vegetable aisle, amidst awkward stares of passersby. To be fair, half of the lunatic stuff I do without thinking gets me stares in America, too, but it's funnier to me here because I feel embarrassed when I realize what I'm doing. And embarrassment is always funny. Whereas, in LA, I'll step up to some grandma's grille and be all "YEAH, I'm slow dancing with a can of chick peas, what's it to you? I'll cut you so bad, you'll wish I didn't cut you so bad!" Then it turns out the grandma's a writer for Family Guy, and she sues me for plagiarism.

The one thing different in this country is that eeeeeeverybody wants to know what Whitey's got in the basket. I'm kind of self conscious, because I feel like if I have a cart full of frozen pizza and Frosted Flakes, they'll think I don't (or "can't," as they always ask) eat Japanese food. So I always try to keep a thin layer of udon noodles, okonomiyaki mix, and octopus tentacles on the top, so they can see how multicultural I am. Or maybe they're looking because they WANT to see me getting Western food. I don't know who I'm supposed to be! Am I supposed to be predictable or capricious?

Anyway, apparently it was free sample day, which I have only seen once before, in my local market. I made the terrible, terrible mistake of taking the cup and drinking it before noting the products in question on the table.

If there's one thing Japan has taught me, it's bodily impulse control. For instance, more often than I'd like, a vendor shoves a huge purple tentacle at me, smiling, and hoping with his every hope that I'll take it and eat it right there, pausing only shortly to unstick the suckers from my uvula before I swallow it. I have acquired the ability to not only suppress my gag reflex and facial sneer but to actually replace them with a smile and a polite, "No, thank you" in Japanese. "Kekko desu," I exclaim cheerfully, which roughly translates into "My family should be shamed for the rudeness I am displaying towards you. I promise to purchase your wares tomorrow, but today, unfortunately, I have a tentacle already attached to my uvula that I am unable to dislodge."

But so at the last free samples day, I horked down a cupful of something that tasted pretty good at first, and then tasted awful, gah, bad, bad, bad. "Miruku to remon!" The lady cheerfully informed me, as I noticed that she was, for some ungodly reason, giving away mixtures lemon juice and milk. It finished curdling inside my mouth, and I smiled weakly as I tripped away to get a frozen pizza with which to cleanse my palate.

This happened pretty early on in my time here in Japan, so I actually forgot about this happening until yesterday, when I horked down a free sample of...Health Vinegar! The poor sample guy actually had really good English, so I stood around listening to his spiel about how cassis berry vinegar was scientifically proven to give me clear skin and prevent me from ever catching a cold. And I don't know if it's my being in Japan so long, but after I realized what it was...it wasn't half bad. I just wish I had known the kanji for vinegar, because when I saw the berry on the carton, my mouth was expecting a completely different flavor.

I tried a few other things -- a really good hot dog sausage thing, and a meatball you make by boiling the package in water. In the far corner, they were even giving out wine samples, and to my surprise, I actually liked the red wine. A slave to my poor impulse control, I agreed to purchase a bottle of wine, and the woman looked so shocked that she had made a sale, I got a little worried that she knew something about it that I didn't. All I know is I don't usually like red wine, and I liked this. Maybe it was Kool-Aid. Anyway, to ease my guilt at making a $15 impulse buy, I got back in line a few more times for more samples, each time donning a new outfit and fake mustache. (Yes, I used another Family Guy joke. Wanna fight about it?)

Then on the bike ride home, I saw a bird walking on a grate, and he kept falling in and hitting his head on the next bar, then straightening up and doing it again, and I feel guilty for how hard I laughed at that.

Finally, when I got home, I walked past my super cute upstairs neighbor. This girl can't be more than 3-years-old, and she's so innocently blunt, it's hilarious. Every time she sees me, she says (in Japanese, of course), "You're Lauren-sensei, right? Mom, look, it's Lauren-sensei. Her name's Lauren-sensei, right?" And I laugh and tell her she's right, and ask how she is. Then she usually stares at me and asks some question that I don't understand.

One night, Gabe was over and my washing machine broke, so I asked her mom to come and help me. She brought her daughter down, and Gabe said "Good day" to her. She cocked her head and said "It's not good day, it's 'good evening' now!" And I laughed while her mom presumably said something about not correcting people. But she was right, after all. Smart kid.

So yesterday, she asked me something like where had I just come from or what had I been doing. So I tried to muster my best Japanese and said, "Uh, school, then shopping. I bought bread, and, uh..." I couldn't remember the word for eggs, so I just said it in English. She laughed and looked at me funny and corrected my Japanese, which I like to translate as her saying, "That's not an 'egg,' dummy. It's a 'とまご,' yo!" It sure is, kid. It sure is.

Who has 100 thumbs and walked into Lauren's bathroom last week?

THIS GUY!

(Image linked so I don't shiver every time I check my own website)

This isn't the actual one I saw, but it's the same type. Thick as a pencil, and a little longer. Fast as the dickens. How fast is a dickens? Too fast to run screaming for my camera AND survive with my life.

Criminy, the words I said when I saw that thing would make a sailor blush.

Seth: don't send me things like that again

I don't care about ducks

unless I'm eating them

my parents were wondering what I was doing when I was talking to them - and I had to tell them that my idiot friend sent me an article about ducks in Japan

========

Mom: suuppppppppp?
Lauren: don't say that
Mom: hey, I'm hip
Lauren: you're gonna break a hip is what you're gonna do
Mom: ffffffffff
Lauren: don't hiss
my friend seth wants to hang in hawaii before we go back
Mom: who is this Seth
Lauren: seth is my friend
he's always yelling at me because kevin met you and he didn't
Mom: well--we ARE quite popular...
lol
send me pic
Lauren: what pic
of seth?
Mom: right
is he someone special?
Lauren: no, Mom
(pic sent)

Mom: does he look a bit like Sam??
Lauren: not really
he's mean to me like sam, but mean friends are funny
Mom: t w i s t e d
Lauren: psh
it's from you!
you always make fun of me, and it's funny
Mom: don't say I'm like that
Lauren: i look fat in that picture
Mom: I'm mean to you?
Lauren: oh, i look much better here
look at this picture (pic sent)
I JUST TOLD YOU I THINK IT'S FUNNY
i'm glad i'm not in a dumb family where everyone minces around and freshens tea
Mom: well... it's true- I don't like tea

Lauren: are you looking at the pictures? that's what's important here
actually i look really hot there
you should frame that
Mom: but never, ever be attracted to someone who is mean to you
Lauren: i'll keep that in mind
Mom: I think Seth is really cute
and thin
and tall
Lauren: he's neurotic
he's exactly woody allen
Mom: lol
u mean not self confident?
Lauren: oh, no, he is
he just complains a lot
and gets annoyed at strange things
Mom: who is the goofy guy standing behind him
Lauren: nick the canadian
Mom: o
Lauren: he hates our freedom
Mom: tee hee
what strange things does Seth complain about

Lauren: once he debated with kevin and dave for 3 hours about how to travel to tokyo: bus or train, and he was the devil's advocate
whenever he convinced them, he suddenly said like "well, but maybe it WOULD be cheaper...."
or "maybe it WOULD be faster to do this..."
but he wasn't committing
and kevin and dave were going insane
and seth would go play a video game and come back and question their plan
not in a mean way, but everyone wants everyone to be happy, and it's hard
and THEN
the next day
when they ended up doing what HE wanted to do
he missed the train and ended up coming later
Mom: lol
Lauren: and was shocked when kevin and dave were incredulous
Mom: do
not
say
incredulous
it gives me goose bumps
Lauren: what is wrong with you?
Mom: hee
tee

INT. Teachers' Room -- Day

LAUREN sits at her desk, quietly eating her lunch of PRINGLES and a PEANUT BUTTER AND HONEY SANDWICH. It looks really good.

SPORTS SENSEI rounds the corner with a devious grin on his face, ready to make fun of her lunch for the millionth day in a row. He cannot speak ENGLISH very well. He sees the knife used for peanut buttering and GASPS dramatically.

SPORTS SENSEI: Threat?

Lauren laughs. Sports sensei comes closer, pointing to the knife.

SPORTS SENSEI: Threat?!

LAUREN: No, no threat.

Sports sensei frowns and nods, looking sternly relieved.
A few minutes pass. Sports sensei casually walks past Lauren's desk again. His eyes widen when he sees the delicious Pringles.

SPORTS SENSEI: Duck mouth?

Lauren is crunching on a chip. She looks CONFUSED.

SPORTS SENSEI: Duck mouth.

Lauren smiles, possibly with chips in her teeth.

LAUREN: Yes, duck mouth.

Sports sensei raises his arm and POINTS at her, menacingly.

SPORTS SENSEI: Duck mouth!!!

Lauren jumps in her seat, grabs two Pringles and puts them back to back, making a duck mouth out of them. She puts them into her own mouth. She QUACKS.

SPORTS SENSEI: Yes. Thank you.

Fin.

I just sneezed while walking to the other room, and the force propelled me face-first into the door. I then laughed really hard at myself.

This is why my neighbors think I'm insane, and also why they're right.