Made in Japan, Outsourced Globally

Randy's friend was in town, so we decided to go pay him a visit. But when I say "in town," I mean like 150 miles 'in town'. But it was well worth it because it was none other than that great battlefield of the American civil war: Gettysburg.

For some unknown reason, I tend to compare the civil war more lightly than other wars. Not that it is out of disrespect, but it's just that it never occurred to me that the war for United States unification and abolishment of slavery was a significant watershed event of the 19th century.

I stand corrected.

There is a little auto tour that you can take by following the tourist map and driving to the most visited, tourist saturated spots. As we passed by canons, statues, and memorials for the North Virginia Infantry for the n-billionth time, we felt as if we were a part of history. We would point out all the "Civil War" relics, such as the Civil War steel observation-tower-where-tourists-roam, Civil War Burger King Crown hanging from a tree, and the Civil War horseback riders (actually, they were just people enjoying a trot).

We drove under autumn-colored canopies and walked around the Devil's Den, where the Confederate sharp-shooters aimed for the Union soldiers at Little Round Top. The air was crisp and the balmy sun kept us warm. It was a perfect day, really. Calm and peaceful...

... except for the darn ladybugs. There was a sudden outburst of the ladybug population, and at one point, all we needed to do was stand in one spot: and 15 lady bugs would land on you. Innocuous, yet annoying. Darn lady bugs...

Once we got to the High Water Mark and Picket's Charge, it was pretty chilling. More than a 140 years ago, right there on the spot that we were standing at, the North and the South collided for the deciding battle that eventually resulted in the surrender of the South. Never again, did General Lee dare invade into a major North territory. Pretty amazing stuff.

My day concluded with another battle - completely unrelated. I was at a restroom of a gas station when I was suddenly attacked by the most vile cloud of Lysol aerosol spray. A 14-year-old girl used the bathroom before me, but apparently she found it necessary to spray the entire 2 square feet area with the Lysol spray, leaving all surfaces wet with the substance and the air unbearably misty with chemical particles. My eyes and throat started to burn, as I experienced the quickest bathroom break of my life. So, little 14-year-old in that Sunoco gas station in Gettysburg... you've got problems. I hope you see a psychologist for that, and I hope the environmentalists don't kill you for causing global warming.

If there's a scream inside of you
Just let it go
You're beating yourself up baby
Don't you know
You've got to get through
And lift the roof off your soul

It's like a pain locked
In a part of your heart
It's never gonna leave it
Unless you start
To warm it up
Be wise and be smart

Out on the ocean
There's no one around
No one to hear a sound
It's just us out here
Out on the ocean
Speaking freely

Away from the city
Away from the ears that
Bug us and judge us
It's so liberating
To be free
And my heart slows down

Nice and easy
And your breathing will be pleasing
Just speak easy
And say what's on your mind
I search for something
To compare you to
Thought long and hard
For a simile true
Now I'm suddenly aware
End the quest you're beyond compare
So speak easy

If there's a shadow in your life
Then there's sunshine
Things turning inside out
All the timeJust rewind
It's all in your mind

Oh so speak easy
Out here we're floating
Late in the night
And the only light to guide us is a
Full moon that's glowing
On the sea

Nice and easy
And your breathing will be pleasing
Just speak easy
And say what's on your mind
I search for something
To compare you to
Thought long and hard
For a simile true
Now I'm suddenly aware
End the quest you're beyond compare
So speak easy

311 - Speak Easy

I should be concentrating on punching out the names and numbers, huddling over the keyboard in preoccupation.

But I stare at him in fascination.

Slowly, he raises his leg. Inches ever so gently to the left. Then, the other leg.

I back away slowly - holding my breath - to give him his space. I debate clumsily in my head whether I should make a move or to continue observing him from a distance.

The soft rattling of the keyboard is just enough to catch his attention. I flinch half in fear and half in exasperation for his next step.

To my surprise (and amusement), he began dancing around. Or perhaps it was because one leg was shorter than the other, he kept on going in circles. I think he pretended not to notice my existence, but it was enough to disrupt my concentration.

Finally, I had it with this tit-for-tat. I was ready to break the balance.

I carefully took the piece of paper, walked to the door, and threw the stinkbug outside.

It’s only natural for inhabitants of one location to bond over a period of time. I currently live with a Polish jazz musician and an Indian chef/odd-ball comedian – both of the male species. This blend of cultures, with yours truly, makes for a recipe of an interesting story.

We don’t boast in the mix of cultures (although compared to the other 99% white American population around us, we do have one leg up on it), but to the depth of the dirt hole we can dig into our own. It is here, that I have learned the most obscure Hindu/Kashmiri cuss words and heard a plethora of Pollack jokes up the wazoo. Of course, being the only Japanese and female of the house, I get to explain the sexual mores (or the lack thereof) of the motherland.

When you put great heads together, there is no limit to the greatness you can achieve. For instance, it was someone’s great idea to instigate power hour after dinner, over a deflating keg of Yuenling. We were at 40 minutes and a bloated stomach before we called it quits and made punching bags of each other’s growing guts. One of my roommates has the strangest sneeze, only comparable to a mating call of a jungle creature on Animal Planet. We often prance around the house imitating him and making sporadic outbursts like a cockatoo. The neighbors must think we are complete idiots – or that we are proud owners of an exotic bird. Did I mention that he has a taste for baby flesh too? The neighborhood has no idea what it's in for...

On a completely different note, I highly recommend visiting the Blue Q site. Some of their amusing items include Sparkling Mullet Body/Car Wash, Pimpin’ President Magnets, Communists Against Halitosis Breath Mist, and Don’t Have Ugly Children Gum.

This post had absolutely no point at all. Carry on, friends. Nothing to see here.

I’m sitting in bed, sick as a dawg, and trying to concentrate on work. I don’t think I’ve been this down since I was in Sapa when I was hiking 8 hours a day in the pouring rain. Of course, I don’t think I ever recovered, because the earaches I had in Vietnam are all too familiar.

But working from home does have its redeeming qualities, such as private bathrooms, access to your fridge, and being able to lie in bed during the waking hours.

I was going to swing by some drugstores today, but I guess that will have to wait. It is a disappointment though, because I was planning on stocking up the basket with condoms, lubricants, and pregnancy tests. Oh, the things I have to do in the name of research…

If you have never read “Welcome to the Monkey House” by Kurt Vonnegut, you should. If you’re questioning me why, it’s more the reason to. I dream of nurses in purple body suits.