She go around in circles, till she's very, very dizzy

Recently I have been filled with a spirit of struggle and strife.  Just half a year ago I felt like I had lost God. It seemed when I prayed as if words left my mouth and dissipated into a room empty except for myself. I finally cried out, "God, why can’t I find You, why don’t You hear me?  How have I left You?”  

Sometimes I don't speak too bright but yet I know what I'm talking about

truffles, and chocolates, and caramels, oh my!

Valentine's Day was introduced to Japan by the candy companies. They marketed it as a day for women to give chocolate to the men in their lives. They gave small store bought giri choco (obligation chocolate) to co-workers and aquaintences, and honmei choco ( true feeling chocolate) to boyfriends, husbands, or to men they like as love confessions. The fun thing is that a month later on March 14, the Japanese celebrate White Day, which is like Valentine's part 2, when men reciprocate gifts to the women they received chocolate from. I never gave honmei chocolate while I was in Japan, but I did make chocolates that I brought into the office to share with all the teachers.  

scarce to be counted, filling the darkess with order and light

More than a year ago I was working on a smocking project.  I then abandoned it as I prepared (ever so slowly) to leave Japan.  I didn't finish it till I was back in the States, but it turned out quite nicely. Here's the finished product.

She sells seashells

So that walk I took last Wednesday when I collected all those shells, here's what I'm doing with them.

First I rinsed all the sand off of them. Then I soaked them for about 30 minutes in a mix of water and bleach. That usually works to get rid of the "I once housed a living organism" stench that usually clings to shells from the beach.

Murder! Murder! Once there's one done

My mom likes to tell the story of when we were at the beach when I was three years old and I disappeared. My mom looked away for just a moment, but it was enough time for me to take off. She went one way looking for me and sent my older cousin the other way. Apparently she found me marching down the beach with my head down, looking for seashells.

Your mother and mine

 

Since I started sewing, I’ve had several Japanese co-workers and friends say “Oh, you’ll be a good wife/mother (it varies).”  They cite my ‘skills’ at cooking and sewing, and since I’m really not good at the whole self-abasement aspect of Japanese culture, I tend to gloss over it and quickly tell them I hate cleaning.  There’s only so many times you can say your cooking is disgusting, or your sewing is terrible when clearly you made a delicious cake and pretty awesome Marie Antoinette dress.  I mean, I’m willing to point out the actual flaws in what I do, “Oh, this cake is too heavy.” or “I pleated the fabric badly and the hem is uneven.” But saying something I put effort and time into sucks is just hard for me to do in any type of sincere manner.  But I lost the point here.  What’s the point?  Housewives.

Rendezvous, then I'm through with you.

I’ve been gone for a while; I have been sewing a little bit everyday though, usually a line or two of smocking every night.  I was watching an episode of SG-1 last night and was getting ready to smock a little. Even though I don’t need sewing pins for it, I still keep them near by, just out of habit.  And normally when I sew, even though I have a pin cushion, I usually keep one pin between my lips. Just habit and something I do absentmindedly do.  Well, there I was with a pin in my mouth when I laughed or something.  I don’t exactly remember what I did because the only thing that registered was “Crap!  I just swallowed a pin.  What do I do!?”  I immediately seized up and I think I can feel it in the back of my throat, so I rushed to the bathroom to see if I could somehow see it and reach it.  No dice.  At this moment I hear the skype chime that means someone messaged me.  It’s Radish King.  So I video call her.  “I just, like just now, swallowed a pin!  What do I do?” 

Google, ever the authority on all things tells us I should go to the hospital, or eat a banana.  I opted for the hospital (I didn’t have any bananas anyway.)  So I need to go to the hospital, but this is Japan, and it’s 9:30.  I have no idea what hospital to go to, and anyway, I really would need my supervisor there.  So I need to call my supervisor.  Well crap, I can tell you what I did that day in Japanese.  I don’t know how to say “I accidentally swallowed a pin and sorry, but you could take me to the hospital?”  Radish King suggests calling our friend N, she speaks Japanese very well and if I do a conference call she can speak to my supervisor directly.  So phone calls are made here there and everywhere, but eventually my supervisor understands what happens and she’s on her way to pick me up and take to some hospital, somewhere.  Hmm, I have time enough to post a facebook status, right?