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?