Weddings!

So this happened. Good luck, you crazy kids.

Unlike a lot you out there, I didn't watch the Royal Wedding in its entirety. I don't have cable and even if I did, I like sleeping too much. I did see a teeny tiny short clip of the vows on the internet (Archbishops are so serious) and another clip of Wills and Kate kissing on the balcony, but that's it. Oh and some pictures of guests wearing cracked out hats, but I swear, that was it. I managed to avoid the royal wedding fever for the most part.

All of the English regalness and pomp got me thinking, how do they do this sort of thing in Japan? Let's take a look!

Crown Prince Akihito and his bride Princess Michiko in 1959:

With the groom's parents Emperor Hirohito and Empress Kojun in Western style wedding celebration wear:

And here are pictures of their son, Crown Prince Naruhito and his bride Princess Masako in 1993 (history repeating itself):

With the now Emperor and Empress:

As you can see, Crown Prince Naruhito and Princess Masako handled the media coverage just a little differently than Wills and Kate did (with 1990s computer simulation!):

I decided I'd learn a little more on Japanese marriage in general. Here's what I gleaned (from Wikipedia (not entirely trusty I know) and some random weddings around the world websites:

There are two types of marriages in Japan:

1. Renai: a love match (which pretty much everyone does now)

2. miai: an arranged marriage (the old school way, ala The Makioka Sisters)

For a traditional Japanese wedding, there are 2 types of bridal head covers. You can either go with a wataboshi (a white hood) or a tsunokakushi (a cloth that goes around your hair). Some say that tsunokakushis are worn to cover a bride's horns of jealousy.

You don't have to be in a ceremony to be officially married in Japan. Just fill out some paperwork and submit it to city hall and you're set.

If you're going to a wedding and you're giving the bride and groom money, make sure to put it in a fancy envelope called a shugi bukuro.

And lastly, I hope you're not a lady who was born during the fifth cycle of the year of the horse (1966). You're bad luck and no one wants to marry you. Heads up procreaters: don't have a baby girl in 2026. She too will grow up to be an unlucky spinster.

Studio Ghibli Part 1!

Do you know about Hayao Miyazaki, one of the greatest animators of all time? Or his animation company, Studio Ghibli? Because you should. I'm sure you at least know about Spirited Away, but there's oh so many more! You should watch them all! But you're probably not going to listen to me. Will you listen to Pixar's John Lasseter? He says the same thing. "Watch them all!" demands John Lasseter!

I'm going to give you an overview of all these movies that you need to see. There's a lot of damn Studio Ghibli Movies, so I'm going to split this up if you don't mind. Studio Ghibli 1984-1992. Let's do this!

Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind (1984)

So this isn't officially a Studio Ghibli movie, they made it right before they created the studio, but I'm going to lump it in with all the others because it is the beginning of the beginning.

Nausicca is an insanely relevant film about the dangers of war and destroying the environment. It seems so topical, even though it was made 27 years ago. This might seem like an odd comparison, but it reminded me of when I saw Network for the first time. This is still happening now. People knew it was going to happen. Why aren't we paying attention? The movies were warning us, people!

Also, there's lots of super cool flying scenes on mini personal gliders and giant airships. Fantastic visuals.

Castle in the Sky (1986)

Originally called Laputa in Japan (had to change that due to its similarity to una palabra muy mala de espanol), this film was Miyazki's first official Studio Ghibli film. We've still got some environmental themes going on and more flying sequences! This time with sky pirates! And there's robots!

There's a question whether you should watch this one with the American dubbing. You've got James Van Der Beek doing the most annoying voice acting ever. But then Mark Hamill is the villain, so it's kinda win/lose no matter which way you go with it. No, James Van Der Beek is just so damn annoying. Watch it with the subtitles.

My Neighbor Totoro (1988)

So this is classic. And adorable. And dark (why is the mother in the hospital? Is it related to the war? Methinks maybe?) It's just simple and wonderful. You get to see post-war Japanese life (I think it takes place sometime in the 1950s) and a magic cat bus. Yes, you heard me right. There is a cat bus.

We also have Totoro to thank for this: Compare and contrast!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jkr3QpiKF-E

And no parody would be complete without a song:

That Miyazaki touch can sneak up on you anywhere!

Grave of the Fireflies (1988)

Did you just watch the clip? Did it depress you like hell? Of course it did. Just to let you know, that adorable little girl DIES. I didn't spoil the movie for you. They tell you at the beginning. Because you need the warning.

This film was directed by Miyazaki's partner Isao Takahata. Yes, it's beautiful, yes, it's a wonderful anti-war film, but just know what you're getting into when you pop the DVD in.

For some reason this was a double feature with Totoro. It's heavy stuff for me. I'm wondering how the three-year-olds handled it.

Kiki's Delivery Service (1989)

One of my favorite Studio Ghibli movies. She's a witch and it's the 1960s in Scandinavia? Count me in!

It deals with important issues like believing in yourself. And becoming friends with cool artists who live in forest cabins who control birds.

And guess what? More Miyazaki flying, this time on brooms and bicycles!

Only Yesterday (1991)

That's all you're getting.

I haven't seen Only Yesterday and none of you will be able to see it because Disney won't release the because they talk about periods. Oh my God, periods! Hide your children! They mustn't know! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!

Apparently they showed it on Turner Classic Movies like 6 years ago, but then they never showed it EVER AGAIN. I heard it's a very touching movie, but I guess I won't find out for myself until Disney gets over menarche.

Porco Rosso (1992)

This Miyazaki movie is more for grown-ups. A WWI flying ace has been transformed into a pig (how and why, we never find out, but it doesn't matter).

The only issue I have with the film is that it ends very abruptly, which probably has something to do with the fact that it was originally produced as a short movie for an airline. I really wanted another 20 minutes of story, I just loved the world so much.

Also. Michael Keaton as Porco Rosso? Balla.

Part 2: Coming soon...

1-2-3-4!

Linda Linda Linda (2005) is about a high school girl rock band who is struggling to reform after 2 of the members have quit. The remaining girls look for a new lead singer and find a Korean exchange student to take over. After a LOT of practice practice practice (it's a very slow paced movie, I think they're the most reserved rock 'n rollers I ever seen) we get to hear some rock 'n roll!

Unfortunately for my non-Japanese speaking self, some of the movie went over my head. I think one of the main tensions of the film is supposed to be if Son, the Korean exchange, will be able to grasp enough Japanese to sing; however, I couldn't get a sense of how bad her Japanese was supposed to be. What hurdles does she have to overcome, I asked myself, her Japanese sounds fine to me! If I hadn't read the summary before I watched the movie, I probably wouldn't have noticed anything too different about how Son spoke.

Come on, subtitle people, you gotta give me bigger hints. I don't know what stilted Korean-accented Japanese sounds like! Give me more ellipses or something!

I was also kinda confused about random cultural things that happened in the movie. For instance, in the film it was very important for the drummer to be making and selling banana and chocolate crepes at the high school. Why exactly?

After I watched the movie, I discovered that under the Special Features section there were little informational segments that answered all the questions I had. Now that I'm informed, let me throw some knowledge your way.

It turns out the drummer was selling crepes because the school was having a Gakuen-sai, which is a type of school festival. It is usually held in the fall and stalls are set up where people can buy food and then they can see a play or a beauty pageant or a concert.

The concept of kokuhaku (a confession of love) was also discussed. A kokuhaku isn't just a "I wanna be your girl/boyfriend" conversation, it's a serious declaration of true love kind of thing.

But what was the biggest Japanese cultural revelation of the movie? The rock 'n roll!

Throughout the movie, the girls are trying to learn how to play "Linda Linda" by the Blue Hearts (a band I'd never heard of before). You hear the song about a million times in the film. The girls sing along to a tape recording, they practice and sound horrible, and finally (spoiler) they succeed. And rock. Surprise surprise (not really).

Of course this damn super catchy song got thoroughly stuck in my head. So then it was time to investigate the original song. Let's hear what you've got boys!

What? Japanese punk? I didn't even know that existed! Fail on me for not knowing! Thanks Linda Linda Linda. I'm always looking for good ol' fashioned rock 'n roll.

One last note: Even though the pace was super super slow, Linda Linda Linda gets 1000 extra bonus points for having a dream sequence involving the Ramones. Because every movie really needs that.

Bonus Ramones video for you just because (with some Japan mentioning, try and catch it!):

Tsunami Stone

Once long ago, when I was an undergrad, I had these things called "graduation requirements" (curses!). I couldn't just take a bunch of drama and history classes. Nooooooooo, I had to be well-rounded. Which meant GEs. Terrible, terrible math/science GEs.

I scoured the course catalog for classes that were more science-y and less math-y. Geology department. Volcanoes? Let's do it! Anything else fit into my schedule? Let's get this science GE stuff out of the way as soon possible. Hmm, what about a class on Rivers?

I was stupid. Rivers wasn't really a science class, it was a math class in disguise (and I know that science involves math, but whatever, this was ultra too much math). I sadly cannot do math. Well, I can do basic math if someone is forcing me, but engineer-esque math? In a lower division class? It's just not going to happen.

So as hard as I tried, as dutifully as I took notes in class, and even though I read the whole freaking book (which was written by the professor, not fair), my grade suffered. Because of stupid math that had no place in a SCIENCE class. I'll tell you, we weren't calculating shit in Volcanoes. We were learning about aa and pahoehoe (look it up! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aa_(lava_flow)#.CA.BBA.CA.BB.C4.81). Or learning about renegade volcanologists who paddled a raft across an acid lake to get to a volcano. There was drama and natural wonders! There were no math formulas in Volcanoes.

You want some math, Rivers class? Here's some math:

Engineer > Rachel

Rachel + math = sad grade

Even though the math kept bringing me down, I actually learned quite a lot in Rivers class that has stuck with me.

Most important lesson that the professor repeated 3 trillion times: DO NOT BUILD YOUR HOUSE BY A RIVER. Even though that river may seem calm and quaint most of the time and it's a great place to walk your dog, that river will flood and your house will get washed away. This flood might not happen this year, but it will happen at some point in your life, and you really need to listen to the River Experts, because they warned you! But are you going to listen? I don't think so! Even though you should! Why aren't you listening? Don't buy a house there!

So this theme of living somewhere you probably shouldn't popped up twice this week:

1. In Caroline's play The Quiet of the Storm (look, pretty pictures for people who didn't go: http://theatre.usc.edu/gallery/index.cfm?groupid=228) Why do you live in a town where hurricanes kill?

2. In the New York Times article about tsunami stones:

Photo by Ko Sasaki

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/21/world/asia/21stones.html?_r=1

Coastal towns in Japan have a tradition of putting up large stones with inscriptions saying where people shouldn't build their homes. Some people listened to the stones and decided to live on higher ground. The people who didn't listen to the stones believed a sea wall would protect their homes. For a lot of people, the sea walls did nothing.

People have already gone through these experiences over and over, why don't we listen to past?

Kamishibai

Have you gone to the Velaslavasay Panorama. Yes or no?

No: Go there as soon as you can (It's right by USC on 24th Street off of Hoover, you have no excuse not to go).

Yes: Go back again.

What is the Velaslavasay Panorama you may ask? It's an amazing place of wonder and old-timey-ness that specializes in, you guessed it, panoramas! What's a panorama you ask? Well, a long time ago before television, people wanted to be entertained and see the sights of the world. But travelling back in yesteryear? Even more of a hassle than today. So panoramas were created (2D (moving picture scrolls) and 3D) to entertain and educate the masses. Take a look!

Here's their official website for more information: http://www.panoramaonview.org/index.html

Time for a tangent: I'm pretty sure this interview was done the first time I visited the panorama. I think that even might be my hand cranking the panorama at 1:26. The lady in charge said I could give the cranking a try (I felt so special!) and it was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be, so I wasn't paying attention to the photographer.

Time for another tangent: I bought a mini version of the panorama to take home. I would have put up some pictures of my tiny panorama, but as I was importing the photos, my stupid picture file got corrupted, now I can't open any of them, and I'm trying hard not to have a computer-induced brain meltdown, but I hate computers, and this rant could go on for a very long time, but I'm sure it would bore you, so I'll finish it in my head.

Back on topic: Anyway, all of these panoramas reminded me of kamishibai!

I bet you've got another question. What is kamishibai? Kamishibai is a Japanese art of storytelling. It is told through a series of illustrations that are presented in a tiny wooden box. A kamishibaiya (a storyteller) narrates the story and performs the voices of all of the characters. Unlike their Western panorama counterpart, kamishbais typically feature stories with a narrative (panoramas usually are travelogues without a plot), but there are occasions when kamishibai is used for informational purposes.

Here is a kamishibaiya telling a story. A kamishibaiya would make money by selling candy before the performance.

Eric P. Nash's book, Manga Kamishibai, is a wonderful history lesson in Kamishibai. He looks at kamishibai's golden age in the 1930s, how kamishibai was used during World War II, and kamishibai's death by television (first called denki (electric) kamishibai, due to it's similarity to the paper theater).

The book also features lots of wonderful original kamishibai art.

A title card to a Jungle Boy story.

The super hero Golden Bat fights a giant robot.

Ninjas!

Note: So I took more great pictures from the kamishibai book. Including one of a kamishibai 1960s Batman and Robin. Oh the garishness, it was awesome. But because my stupid computer is a whole lot of stupid, you don't get to see them. You're just going to have to check out the book from the library once I return it.

Here you can see some kamishibaiya in action:

Old school (you've got to make an effort and click on the link, it won't let me embed it):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8MahEbmc4CE

New school:

Yayoi Kusama

I just watched the film I Love Me which is about avant-garde artist Yayoi Kusama. Here's the trailer:

In the film we get to see Kusama create a series of 50 black and white drawings.

We also get to see an overview of her entire body of work. From sculptures-

To installations-

And more.

We also get to look at themes that pop up in Kusama's art. For instance, Kusama's obsession with dots. They turn up in her work frequently.

Here is a portrait of her dotted mother from 1939.

The dots appear over-

And over-

Even on Snoopy!

What really touched me about watching the film was seeing how an artist deals with growing old. Kusama was born in 1929. Repeatedly throughout the film, we see how frustrated she is with her age. She celebrates two birthdays, but doesn't want anyone to know how old she is. She has trouble walking, but doesn't want to use a wheelchair, she thinks it's a sign of weakness. Someone tells Kusama that she's impressed that Kusama generates so much work in her "later years." Kusama says that she hasn't reached her later years, they're at least 5 years away.

We see more of her frustration during an interview with a reporter:

Reporter: As compared to mountain climbing, what stage are you as now?

Kusama: What stage am I now? Looking up, it's endless, I think. There are so many things I want to do so I want a life of 300 or 400 years.

Reporter: Do you mean you haven't even done half of what you want?

Kusama: On top of one mountain, I want to put on another mountain.

Kusama is able to channel this awareness of impending death into her work. An excerpt from her poem (she writes poems and novels along with creating all of her other art), "Resplendent Road"

I have spent life being far from attaining enlightenment.

Unable to sleep at night, I end up thinking about death

During these long years since childhood, suddenly I realize, in the path of my life, that I am facing death.

Having grown old, my black hair turning white,

The path to truth has withered and turned gray.

Forsaking the fame, am I to wander into the other world all by myself?

The movement is imminent.

Then love, future, and the flowering Shinano Road have been dyed gray.

Good-bye, my life. Fly away into the sky!

After Kusama finishes reading the poem she tells the camera, she talks about how great her poem is, how no one else would be capable of writing something like that, that "there's the work of genius in everything I do." Oh Yayoi Kusama, you're sassy and amazing. I want to be like you.

Gamera

It began when my friend sent this to me over Facebook:

My initial reaction: What the hell is this? Why is there a giant turtle named Gamera flying through space next to a flying saucer? Why is a chorus of children singing about his attributes? What's going on?

After a little digging, I discovered that Gamera started off as a Godzilla knock-off (not surprising). I know that Godzilla is the king of the monsters, but for some reason, Gamera just has more of an appeal to me. I mean, can Godzilla travel from place to place my turning into a flying saucer. I don't think so. Plus, I like the idea of a turtle kicking ass.

So Gamera's starred in a lot of movies. The first movies are more serious in tone. As the series continued, the budgets kept getting smaller and smaller, and the plots became more and more identical and cheesy (the plot of at least 4 of the Gamera movies: 1. a new monster shows up. 2. Gamera fights it. 3. Gamera gets injured. 4. Gamera needs to heal. 5. Gamera heals. 6. Gamera kicks the monster's ass and everyone's happy).

Let's go through some Gamera films now!

Gamera: A Bloggy Retrospective

(Note: I haven't seen some of the movies in a while, and honestly, they start blurring together, so the reminiscences will be brief and potentially vague.)

Gamera (1965)

The very first Gamera movie. It's the only one in black and white and the only film in which Gamera is the villain (but it's not his fault, it's MAN'S!). We've got themes of why nuclear war is bad. Learning lessons. There's also some great Gamera Arctic ship destruction stuff happening.

Gamera vs. Barugon (1966)

The very first sequel. Again, more serious in tone. This is the first film in which Gamera becomes an ally of mankind.

If I took anything away from this movie, it's this: don't take forbidden eggs. I know it's tempting, and you think it's a giant pearl or something, but it's not. It's a monster egg. And that monster's going to hatch and shoot rainbow death rays (they don't show them in the trailer, so lame) at everyone. It's not worth it.

Gamera vs. Gyaos (1967)

A little less serious in tone.

Gamera saves an annoying tubby kid from a bat monster. I don't really understand why Gamera saved him because the kid was really annoying. Really, really annoying.

Gamera vs. Viras (1968)

This is a Gamera movie I haven't seen yet, but not for lack of trying (damn you, Netflix!). Listen to that swinging 1960s score! The monster is a weird alien squid thing! We get to see Gamera underwater! Taking it to a whole other level.

For some reason I have a feeling this is the Gamera movie where he crosses over into Camp Camp.

Gamera vs. Guiron (1969)

In this clip, Gamera uses gymnastics to defeat his shark monster foe. Oh the quality of storytelling. Where did it go?

Gamera vs. Jiger (1970)

This is the worst one. I blocked out most of the experience because the film was so terrible. I only really remember 2 things from this movie: 1. It takes place during some sort of World Fair. 2. One of the characters has a Hitler-y mustache.

Even though the Gamera movies get really bad, I have a hard time not being obsessed with them. I have accepted Gamera into my life. I even have a Gamera I can call my own.

Gamera faces off against a new foe. Taking bets.

I don't feel too bad about my Gamera love. Mystery Science Theater 3000 is just as obsessed as I am. Maybe even a little more so.

The Olympics!

I didn't catch Olympic fever until the 2008 Beijing Olympics. Before that I was of the opinion that sports=the mucho boring (that opinion still holds to non-Olympic sports). But man, China's Olympics converted me. I think it was the opening ceremonies that did it. There must have been some sort of brainwashing or subliminal messaging thing happening, because after those opening ceremonies, the Olympics owned me. I watched everything. I mean everything. Even DRESSAGE.

(It also didn't help that I was unemployed and a recent college graduate and I had cable, so there really wasn't anything better to be doing with my time than switching back and forth between NBC, USA, MSNBC, and the other two random channels that were broadcasting Olympic events all the time. And then I found out one of the guys on the beach volleyball team was from Solvang, so I had to root him on. He won the gold!)

I had a lot more difficulty getting into the 2010 Winter Olympics. Mostly because I don't fully understand the concept of snow. It's very abstract to me. I've only been around snow for approximately 2 weeks in my entire life. I sometimes have a hard time believing that snow actually exists.

But the thing that really killed the 2010 Winter Olympics was whenever NBC would cut to commercial break, they'd show all of these super annoying Olympic themed ads for How to Train Your Dragon. This is the ad I saw 400 times:

Everyone I've talked to who's seen How to Train Your Dragon has gushed about the movie, it's heartwarming, it's so wonderful, it's so touching... I don't care. I can't watch the movie. The stupid ads ruined any future film watching experience.

I wondered if I'd grown out of my Olympic obsession phase. Then I watched Kon Ichikawa's amazing documentary Tokyo Olympiad. It confirmed that I loved the Olympics more than ever (just not the Winter Olympics, sorry Sochi, Russia 2014, we're probably not going to be seeing that much of one another).

Anyway, the film is about the Tokyo Olympics of 1964. Tokyo was supposed to host the Olympics in 1940, but then World War II happened, things didn't exactly work out.

Ichikawa shows a post-war Japan, a Japan that is rebuilding and modernizing. We see a Japan that is striving for "peace, love, and valor" the themes of the 18th Olympic Games.

According to various articles on the internet (so this may or may not be true) the Japanese Olympic Committee didn't like the film because it was arty and too long (almost 3 hours, but doesn't feel like it at all) so they made him cut it. Boo on them, because Ichikawa's full version is amazing. See for yourself:

The beauty and grace of gymnastics. Compare that to-

The duckish waddling of racewalking.

The marathon. One of the most intense competitions depicted in the film.

One of the things that I loved the best about the movie was seeing Japan's take on sportsmanship. For instance, during the Women's 80 M hurdles, Japan's Ikuko Yoda doesn't place. The announcer calls, "Yoda of Japan loses! The Rising Sun flag will not fly. But she ran and jumped her best." I loved the positivity.

My favorite part of the film is the closing ceremony (unfortunately there's no clip of it on Youtube). The ceremony is bittersweet, everyone is celebrating in the stadium, there are fireworks, "Auld Lang Syne" plays. The announcer gives his take:

"Applause bursts out in waves. The most exciting closing ceremony in Olympic history! The formal opening ceremony was beautiful indeed, but tonight all barriers of nationality and race have dropped away. The whole mass of humanity celebrates together as one and feels sad to see the time must come to say good-bye. It's just wonderful, that's all I can say. This moment brings tears to my eyes and warms my heart as if understanding for the first time what world peace would be like. Sayonara! Till we meet again! Good-bye friends!"

The film ends with a poem:

Night

And the fire returned to the sun.

For humans dream only once every four years

Is it enough for us to let this peace we've created

did away like a dream?

Seriously, if the nations of the world can get along to compete at the Olympics, can't we get along all of the time?

Unfortunately, this movie is out of print. You can't get it on Netflix, but if you go to USC you can check it out for three days from Doheny! I highly recommend it. And this isn't one of those fake recommendations, this is legit. WATCH THIS MOVIE.

Hello Rachel

So I don't know how many people remember a little show called Lisa Loeb #1 Single that was on the E! Network in 2006. In case you don't remember, here's a synopsis: Lisa Loeb, singer/songwriter most famous for her song "Stay" from the Reality Bites soundtrack, is looking for love. Sadly for her, all the guys she went out with on the show were super lame. If I remember correctly, she didn't end up with anyone on the show.

The two things that I do remember from the show are:

1. Lisa Loeb had super cute glasses. I kinda wish I had vision problems so I could wear cool glasses like her.

2. She owned a bunch of Hello Kitty crap. Not just a couple things, but the big ticket items. I know she had the toaster, she might even have had the vacuum cleaner.

She even made a Hello Kitty music video:

I wonder how Lisa Loeb's Hello Kitty obsession began. All I know is that once it starts, it keeps snowballing into something bigger and bigger. Hello Kitty cannot be stopped.

I too am the owner of a number of Hello Kitty items. I did not actively seek out Hello Kitty, the Hello Kitty lifestyle was thrusted upon me by generous friends over Christmases and birthdays. Without much effort on my part, the collection keeps growing and growing.

Now for a bunch of probably not really interesting stories/observations about a selection of my Hello Kitty possessions.

The alarm clock: My family owns an inn (http://www.royalcopenhageninn.com/, you're welcome, Dad). Once a long time ago (when I was in middle school) a Japanese woman was staying there. She lost her wallet, but someone working there found it and she was very grateful. So she went back to Japan and started sending me presents, even though I had never met her and I had absolutely nothing to do with finding the wallet. It was great! And random! But she was really really happy she got her wallet back, so she kept sending presents. She sent a tiny garland of paper cranes and a beautiful calendar, a figurine of a bunny in a pink kimono (this must have been 1999, the last year of the rabbit), and a Hello Kitty alarm clock.

I've used the alarm clock ever since. It's easy to set the time. The alarm is annoying enough to wake me up, but not annoying enough for me to completely hate hearing it in the mornings.

Hello Kitty pajama pants (modeled by me). I marvel at the amount of Hello Kitties. They must be having some sort of convention.

Hello Kitty socks: Unfortunately for the Hello Kitties, once I put the socks on, the Hello Kitties get super stretched out and distorted because I have fat calves.

Hello Kitty Mirror: It's a bitch to open. I have to jam my fingernail in and kind of slide and wiggle my thumb for it to open.

Oh hello!

The Hello Kitty Waffle Iron: the pièce de résistance.

Not only is the outside of the waffle maker shaped like Hello Kitty, it makes Hello Kitty shaped waffles. They're delightful. It's a bitch to clean though, man oh man.

Where have you been all my life?

I have the worst circulation in the world. Like really bad. I'm always always always (unless it's over 80 degrees) FREEZING. I layer it up most of the time. I almost always turn on the seat warmer in my car.

But my poor feet. They suffer the most. My feet pretty much always feel like they're 20 degrees colder than the rest of my body.

There are several ways I deal with this. I wear long thick socks all of the time. I stick my feet as close as I can to heater vents.

So imagine my delight and joy when I found out about kotatsus.

I saw my first kotatsu (but didn't know it) in the Studio Ghibli film My Neighbors the Yamadas. I thought it was just a normal table with some kind of weird tablecloth/blanket on it. I wasn't sure. Then I saw another kotatsu in the film The Emperor's Naked Army Marches On (a documentary with a completely different tone). Short tables with tablecloth/blankets were popping up everywhere, but I still didn't know what they were.

Thankfully Velina did! She told our class these were no normal tables but kotatsus! For those who don't know what a kotatsu is, it's an amazing table that has a heater, an honest to goodness heater, inside. A blanket traps the heat. Stick your feet in and you'll be nice and toasty. You can even take a nap under one!

Of course once I found out a heater was involved, I wanted one immediately. So I did a little Google Shopping research. This is what I found:

http://www.amazon.com/ORIENTAL-FURNITURE-Japanese-Kotatsu-Coffee/dp/B00172Y4B6

This product has a 1 star rating. Do you know why? Because it isn't a kotatsu. There is no heater. Amazon, you are dumb.

If I happen to get more obsessed with my Re-Ment forest creatures (see the previous post), I could consider buying them a Re-Ment kotatsu. Look at the detail (please don't let me get that obsessed)!

And now to leave you with something warm and fuzzy and kotatsu-related:

In:

And out:

I've Got a Bad Case of Kawaii

Bullshit. Why don't I have the freedom to choose?

It started simply enough. I was in the Kinokuniya Bookstore when my boyfriend pointed out a little box with little forest creatures on it:

He knows my tastes well. I love kitschy things. Some examples of useless kitschy stuff I own: a tea kettle shaped like a chicken, a cuckoo clock, a creepy back scratcher that has red fingernails on it, etc. etc. etc.

But the kitschiest of the kitsch? My gnome collection/brethren consisting of 11 gnomes (sadly one was injured in the line of duty. He's repairable, but I keep forgetting to get super glue to fix him).

The gnomes holding the paintbrush and hammer are from Japan (the box they came in actually calls them "Elfin Figures") They're in front of the giant gnome that looks kind of like actor/playwright Wallace Shawn. I started branching out to give the collection a more woodland theme, as you can see by the inclusion of the squirrel.

Back to the bookstore: This tiny box of forest creatures looked promising. I could get bears and a deer and an owl and more? And they all fit in this one little box? Amazing! These forest creatures would go with my gnomes perfectly! Let's buy this, buy it now!

Then I looked at the back of the box.

The animals were no longer reading together. Now there were 10 individual pictures (see above). Although I'm not able to read Japanese, I was able to use my keen deductive powers to surmise that this was a surprise box.

Here's a short video to enlighten you:

When I understood the nature of the box, I got pissed off. I wanted the damn reading bears, yet I was not guaranteed to get the damn reading bears. I'd be almost as happy if I got the fox or the boars or the deer, but if I got the stupid frog/bird comb, there would be hell. Hell I say!

I carefully selected a box. I had a feeling fate would not be kind.

I opened the box:

Ducks are perfectly fine in the right context. However, this was not the right context. Ducks aren't really forest creatures, they're maybe on the margin. Didn't you hear me fate/luck? I know ducks are nice, but when reading bears are an option, you've gotta reach for the stars.

I vowed never to buy another box again. I knew if I bought another box, I wouldn't get the stupid bears and then I'd be annoyed for no reason.

So then we happened to go to Little Tokyo for a field trip. And though I tried to resist their siren song, I heard their call from the bookstore, "Rachel, try again. You know you want to..."

I bought another stupid box.

Even less forest creature-y than ducks. Damn it.

Learning Japanese: Part One (This Might Only Be A One Part Series, So Don't Get Too Excited)

That's right. Japanese. Written by ME.

So as part of diving into the culture, I decided to learn a little (note: tiny, minuscule amount, because who am I kidding?) Japanese. Why not dabble?

I've always been disappointed that I'm not multilingual. I've often griped to my family that I should have at least learned some Danish, but that didn't happen. My grandfather knows it, but the only time I ever hear him use it is when he's hanging out with his girlfriend.

My Bilingual Grandfather and his girlfriend, Cora

Since the age of twelve, I have made several attempts to learn Spanish, mostly because the public school system said, "Rachel, you will take a foreign language or else!" Learning the vocabulary was fairly easy, but when it got time to figuring out where accent marks went and which verb forms to us... it got a little disastrous. I swear, the only reason I got through sophomore year of high school with a good grade was because I made a flamingo piñata. And I don't have artsy-crafsty skills, so if was some kind of crafty miracle.

When I was in college, I had a couple of friends who took Japanese in college. I heard rumors of a writing system that included things called kanji. I heard rumors that there are 8 million (my approximation) kanji characters. I reasoned that I was was too lazy to learn a language that asks that much of me.

And now we reach the present. So my boyfriend started learning Japanese via this angry drunk guy named Namasensei (called so because of his profound love of alcohol) on Youtube. He told me I should learn along with him, but I was still convinced that I was too lazy to learn. But then Japan class happened and gave me that little push I needed. Here's a taste of Namasensei's teaching methods. For your viewing pleasure:

Take that Rosetta Stone!

So I listened to Namasensei and practiced writing hiragana (not kanji, they're different, oh look! I learned something!) As I wrote the hiragana, I felt my body physically revolt. I don't draw or anything, the only thing that comes out of a pen/cil via my hand via my brain are English letters, and on a very rare occasion, numbers. I feel like my reaction to the hiragana is happening due to: 1. My unfamiliarity with the characters 2. Anxiety that I'm not writing anything correctly. But after some very methodical practice (writing the same hiragana character 50 times) it hasn't been that bad.

For some reason, my brain's having even more trouble memorizing the vocabulary. I only just realized that I haven't had to do any rote memorization for several years. The being creative section of my brain has taken over territory that rote memorization once claimed. Hey brain, why can't you remember simple words. I guess it would help if I got super hardcore and made flashcards, but I haven't gotten around to it yet.