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  • Xanga

    It's been a while since I've really posted more than a post or two. I am really surprised how much Xanga has changed! What is going on here. I was visiting some sites and noticed that many of them looked quite different. Then I realized that there's this "Theme" thing that helps design the Xanga site. The look of my site hasn't changed in quite a while. Indeed, it's been your basic white page with black letters since... forever. So maybe I should change. But there's something that bugs me about changing just for the sake of changing.

    Anyone have any opinion? Should I change the look of my site?

    BTW: There's also a protected post too...

  • Still exercising

    I realize that I haven't been posting. I get the feeling that I just don't have that much to say these days. Is it me? Is it my life? Actually, these are essentially the same, aren't they. In any event, as I stated over a month ago--that would be exactly two posts ago--I am trying to bring my energy level back up by exercising.

    I wrote previously that I have lost almost ten pounds. Well, I've stopped lifting weights as that doesn't allow me to loss the weight that quickly. I know, I know. Lifting weights to tone the body is good, but watching the numbers on the scale go down is quite motivating, so I've stopped. When I started on the health kick, I weighed a hefty 178 pounds--pretty chunky for 5'6". Yes, I'm short. They don't call me Mr. Miyagi for nothing. It was the most I had ever weighed in my life. I had reached 175 before, but that was virtually with no muscles. Not that I have a lot of muscles now, but about 15 years ago I had never worked out with weights, had done little manual labor in my life, and was a pretty sorry (read: blubbery) sight.

    After working out on the treadmill last Friday, I got on the scales and was gratified to see that I had broken 160 pounds. Yes, the meter read: 159.5! Woo hoo! Of course, it was right after running for 90 minutes, and predictably I was back above 160 the next day--162 to be exact--but it felt good nonetheless.

    0:30, 2.43

  • Early Halloween...

    I leave campus a little after 7 PM most days, take the Metro train to the last stop on the Orange line and walk home from the station around 8 PM. I used to take a short cut that went past a parking structure, then beneath an overpass that finally led to a small community of townhouses that is just across the street from where I live. But about ten months ago, I began to notice the unmistakably pungent odor of piss as I walked beneath the overpass. A few days later, I saw a dirty sock on the path. I casually looked around and then up, and dangling from the three-foot vertical space between the overpass and the concrete buttress, was a filthy, moldy-looking blanket.

    From all appearances, somebody was sleeping up there. It kinda freaked me out. Perhaps it was just a harmless homeless person, but the thought that someone could be up there looking down at me and any other passers-by was unsettling. So I started taking the normal route home along the main road on the north side of the station.

    But last week Wednesday, I decided to take the short cut again. I don't know, it just struck me as the thing to do. So I went past the parking structure, beneath the underpass and was almost through the townhouse community. I turned the corner before crossing the street to my house, when suddenly I felt someone kick my heels from behind. 

    Bump, bump.

    What the... and for a moment, I thought Musubichan had been waiting for me at the station, shadowed me on my way home and tried to scare me. The fraction of a second it took me to come up with that scenario and then whirl around wasn't long enough for me realize that she had never before waited at the station for me unannounced. But even if I had realized that, it would not have prepared me for what I saw.

    No one.

    What?!? I looked around and there was not a soul. There are invariably three or four other commuters who use the same shortcut from the station, but there were none that night. So I looked at me feet. Maybe I stepped on something that flung up and hit the back of my shoes, but again there was nothing. Oh man. I stood at the corner waiting for a couple of cars to pass before I crossed the street. Whatever it was, will it kick me again, sending me forward in front of the oncoming cars? I stepped away from the curb and looked back at the area I felt my heels being kicked. I was starting to get paranoid. When the cars drove by, I ran across the street and practically dove into the safety of my own home.

    I still don't know what happened that night. I have tried to think of a variety of reasons as to why I might have felt  something bumping my heels, but I can't come up with a reasonable explanation. Can you?

    1:30, 7.25

  • Fighting my age

    I am definitely reaching that age. And how old is that age? Well, I suppose that it is different for all of us, but I am referring to that age when you feel your age. Well, this past summer, I felt 51. FIFTY-ONE!

    It wasn't any one thing that made me feel my age. It was the accumulation of a lot of little things I think. Yes, time goes by much faster now. Yes, my knees have started to audibly complain when I bend them. Maybe most dramatically was my loss of energy. I don't have enough energy to grade. I don't feel up to painting the ceiling. I don't have the vigor to write on Xanga. It is all depressing.

    Of course, I don't want to be a downer here on Xanga. I'm telling you all this because I've figured out what was wrong.

    I don't exercise enough.

    Yes, it was as simple as that. So since the first of August, I decided to fight the inexorable urge to give in to my age and have begun to exercise, again. On the first day, I huffed and puffed as I walked on a nearby trail for about an hour. I swear I was sweating like a pig. Oink, oink. How could I let myself get so out of shape? but I stuck to it, and in a week I was walking more briskly. By the third week I could walk and jog a bit. By the end of August, I could sustain a light jog for 45 minutes to an hour. Even M was impressed. You have such an obedient body. It responds exactly as it's supposed to.

    I've lost nary an inch from my waist, but I have lost ten pounds, even as I have been lifting some light weights. Since muscle weighs more than fat, it means I've probably lost more than ten pounds of fat! Woo hoo! Anyway, since I'm doing butterflies with 25 pound dumbbells, I may develop cleavage to go along with my girlish figure. Nah... Too many inches in the waist yet...

    Anyway, I feel a bit more peppy these days, thankfully, and just in time for football season! Hahahahahha!. So, I've been watching less drama--if you can believe it--and instead am listening to music when I squeeze in exercise time into my school schedule, although I still listen to J-pop. The song below by UVERworld keeps me going during my last legs when I jog. I focus on the beat and the legs keep churning.

  • Absence makes the heart grow fonder

    Holy moly! I just realize that I haven't written an entry in over a month. Heck, in a couple of days, it'll be two months. Are you fonder of me now? Hehehehehehe

    Oh well.... For those of you who care: I am not dead. I am alive and have spent perhaps the most unproductive summer of my life. Even in my youth when I did not produce anything, I at least read a book or two. Hmmmm. This is nothing to write home about.

    Well, school is starting and I have to get back into gear. Hopefully, that will mean a bit more writing on Xanga as well, as I will need an excuse for my procrastinating ways. ")

  • Space Time Continuum

    It's nice to realize that the space time continuum is consistent and time is still relevant. Do you remember--or perhaps still experiencing--the difference in the speed of time? When you are waiting for the end of the Fall semester, October and November seem to go by so slowly. And yet, when Winter break arrives, it seems to end in the blink of an eye.

    Well, these days--and those of you working stiffs will probably agree--that time in general seems to have sped up. Have a deadline? It arrives in no time. Christmas? Is it here already? But I've come to realize that one's personal space time continuum remains constant. While time in general has sped up, this summer--when I'm really not doing much and just relaxing as I do some research at a leisurely pace--is going by at light speed. I swear, I go to sleep on Sunday night--actually Monday morning--and when I wake up its Thursday... THURSDAY! Who the heck deleted Tuesday and Wednesday?!?

    What gives?

    So while I'm pleased at the consistency of time, I'm beginning to get stressed--and losing some of that energy I thought I was recharging--because I am not accomplishing as much as I wanted to this summer. Ugh...

  • MacBook Pro

    Okay, I got my MacBook from school over a month ago, but I haven't written anything about it because I wanted to see if I could get used to it, get a feel for it. I don't want to make any rash or uninformed comments.

    Firstly, I have to admit that this Mac looks freakin' cool. And the
    3D-like movement of windows and icons was rather mind-boggling at first: Deleted icons or files disappear in a puff of smoke... literally. Push F12 and a transparent Dashboard appears with clock, calendar, weather and calculator. Push F11 for Desktop and all the windows I have open scatter and disappear into the closest screen margin. So in terms of the visuals, this is a pretty slick machine. And it is fast. I can have a number of different applications running at the same time and none of them slow down, at least not that I can tell on the screen.

    The screen itself is another story. I have a Toshiba with a Trubrite screen and it is nicer and sharper, I believe. But my eyes are so bad that, perhaps, I am not the best judge. Also, the results I am getting from burning DVDs are not the best. iDVD will burn DVDs that you can play on any DVD player and when I first saw it I was floored. Some of the menu options are out of this world--they move, play music, and all you have to do is drag and drop photo or video files into the drop zone and you're done. Very simple. But I soon learned there were some serious limitations to this "ease of use". On my PC, I use Nero to burn my DVDs--in case you're wondering, not everyone in my family can use a computer with ease, so I burn DVDs of the J drama  they want to see. Anyway, on Nero I can custom control bitrate--that is the number of bytes per second to be played. On the Mac, I have only two options: Best performance and best quality. The lower the bitrate, the worse the video image, but I can see that the finished product on the Mac is not as good as what I have been doing on the PC even at a lower bitrate. I suppose it has to do with .avi files, because it seems that it doesn't handle interlacing very well, even though I have the apporpriate DivX codec. Hmmmm...

    Another thing is my reliance on Windows terminology. I mean, what's a Dock? It took me a while to figure out that there is a row of icons of certain applications as well as specific projects and files currently in use. But why did they make the Dock default "hidden"? I was
    playing around with the machine for a good 3 hours before I finally
    realized how to reveal applications and files: Okay,
    iTunes... where did you go... um, Safari? Firefox? how do I see you
    again...
    When I was looking through the Help, they were talking about
    clicking on the icon in the Dock. The what? WTF is a Dock... I must have yelled at
    least 17 times...I finally figured out that if I drag the cursor toward
    the bottom edge of the screen, the Dock will pop up... They should NOT
    make the default hidden. They should show it so idiots like me now what
    to look for. And what is the function of Finder. What will it find for me? Is it like a search? I finally figured out it was just a jazzed up window where I can view my files. f I want to do a search, I have to use a completely different application, Spotlight. I was very confused at first.

    Another big thing for me is the lack of Japanese fonts for word processing. As a Japanese teacher I like to use a lot of different fonts and there a quite a few for PC, from newpaper type to brush strokes. but there are virtually none for the Mac, about three basic fonts. Very boring.

    Oh well, It's taken me over a month, but I think I've gotten used to it. I enlisted the help of a former student who helped me with a few things via e-mail, but I did most of the stuff myself. All guys are Tim Taylor at heart, right? And my conclusion is still inconclusive. But I have decided to try Boot Camp. It is an application that will split my hard drive in a way that will allow me to load Windows and use this machine as I would a PC, with the exception that I will have a lot more power: 2.16 Ghz cpu and 2 Gb memory. I'm installing it tomorrow. I giggle at the thought of doing my PC work with this kind of power!

    If I reach Nirvana (I was going to say orgasm but I changed my mind), I will let you guys know.

    P.S. Thanks to those of you who kicked my ass in my last post. I think it got my juices going.

  • Time out

    A little break from TY and UCLA.

    You know, I decided not to teach this summer. I could always use the money--especially with a 26 year-old step-son who still can't figure out what to do with his life, so he quits his job, moves out of his current living arrangement and comes from Japan for some R & R. When he returns in September he will be jobless and homeless. I'm waiting for him to ask me for a hand, but he probably won't ask. He'll probably wait for mommy to ask for him....

    As I said, I could have used the extra cash, but a colleague of mine needs money more than me, so I decided to let her have the gig, and focus on my research. Getting a book out or even an article in a academic journal could lead to a raise. So this should be just as good... but I think I've already wasted all of June. WTF am I doing?!?

    Can you tell me to get my butt in gear? Like give me a swift kick in the ass? I can take it... Right here----->

  • An old friend (3): Making new friends

    TY came over my house for a BBQ on Sunday and I met him and one of his
    other friends for dinner on Monday. We had a very pleasant time reminiscing again, and I was happy to make a new acquaintance who seems to speak better Japanese than me. In any event, I know that TY is reading this, so I thought I should put in a disclaimer: Memory is subjective and fallible. Definitely fallible. Everything I write here is filtered through the prism of my memories and is not necessarily an exact representation of the past. In fact, if you ask me, it is virtually impossible for anyone to represent the past perfectly from memory. But it is the past as recorded in my mind and I present it as such.

    Anyway, where was I....

    It became pretty clear to me that PW did not see me as anything but a classmate and perhaps a friend. We got along well enough talking about class and common interests. I would still offer her a ride to her car at the parking lot, and sometimes took her home to her parents house on those occasions when she went home for the weekend, as they lived on the east side of town, where I lived. I held no illusions. To have someone as cute as PW as a friend was amazing enough for me.

    In the meantime, I had more or less placed TY in a back drawer of my brain. He was neither a threat nor a rival. Just another hurdle in my quest for an A; I just had to work harder. By the Winter quarter, he had virtually vanished from my consciousness.  I was taking a heavy load--18 credit units--and TY was not in any of my classes. I had little time to develop friendships--let alone relationships--and was content with the casual acquaintances I had made in my various classes. Study, study, study. In the Spring quarter, I took another 16 credit units and even made the Dean's list. I had arrived! I thought as I looked forward to a pleasant SoCal summer.

    And pleasant it was. Blue skies, moderate heat--for LA anyway. And the beginning of a variety of friendships.

    Over the Winter and Spring quarters, I had become acquaintances with a number of people but I didn't really have a chance to get to know them until the summer. I had enjoyed my year at UCLA so much, that I decided to take a couple of classes over the summer. Although the classes were daily, they were mostly in the morning; in the afternoon, I would spend it with these acquaintances at North Campus, the local coffee shop/cafeteria. Every morning, JK--a girl I had met through a mutual friend--would find a table and squat. After class, a variety of people would come by and take a seat to eat lunch, have coffee, or just chat. We would come and go during the day, but there was always someone there, so when we driffted back, we knew we would have a place to sit no matter how crowded it was. We became a very close knit group of friends. Including TY.

    One early afternoon, as we sat down to eat lunch, PW suddenly giggled uncontrollably. There's TY! I looked over my shoulder behind me and couldn't help but yelp in amusement. There was TY striding into North Campus wearing what I first thought was his pajamas. In reality, is was a jinbei, cotton summer wear in Japan, usually worn around the house (see right). I have to admit that I had never seen anyone wear one outside--well maybe except when going to the local convenience store. But not to college or for some other away-from-home event, unless it was something special like a summer festival or fireworks display when people often turned "traditional". But there was TY, on the campus of the University of California, Los Angeles, approaching our North Campus table in his jinbei.

    Did you wear that on the bus? PW asked in wonder.

    No, I rode my moped to school, he responded in Japanese.

    As you might imagine, this elicited another round of laughter. But TY simply smiled as if nothing in the world was wrong. From that moment on, I felt something special for this native-speaking, curve-screwing spirit. And we had a grand summer.

    It seemed like each day was filled with laughter. On some days, TY would bring his mahjong set and we'd play mahjong, clacking our tiles loudly right there on a North Campus table. On other days, TY would try to figure out what J-pop songs would suit me--he introduced me to Memory Glass by Horie Jun. One day, I saw my first Walkman and was simply amazed at the quality of sound emitted by these tiny tape players. I think I spent two hours listening and marvelling at this piece of technology, much to the chagrin of HY, my new friend from Tokyo University. But mostly we just chatted and enjoyed out summer afternoons, as I made new friends, many of whom I still keep in touch with.

    Unfortunately, all this chatting did not serve me well in my Modern Japanese history course. I'm lucky I passed, just barely. On the other hand, the anthro class I took was a joke. The professor literally lectured from the textbook he assigned us. I guess since he wrote the textbook, it did not constitute plagiarism, but it did mean that I didn't have to go to class. All I had to do was read the text book, take the midterm and final and get a B for taking what amounted to a correspondence course. TY also took this class, but he was enjoying the summer as much as I did, maybe more so. On the day of the Final, a couple of guys sitting behind me were whispering outloud. Look at that guy. He hasn't come the whole quarter and he's now trying get the professor to sign a permission to withdraw form. What? I thought and looked up, only to see TY talking to the professor, then leaving the classroom with a piece of paper in hand. When I think about it, I never did ask him if that was really a permision to withdraw slip. Hmmmm...

    To be continued...

  • An old friend (2): You again?

    ...Continued from yesterday

    I've always considered myself a rather naive guy when it comes to women. I am forever infatuated with them. Up until the 9th or 10th grade, I  would be convinced I was in love if a cute girl gave me the time of day. Of course, I could not fall for every girl, and the more women I met, the more I realized how many different kind of women there were. Good, bad, indifferent. Still, I cannot deny that I often found myself easily infatuated with women.

    Take PW. I met her in Intermediate Japanese class my first quarter at UCLA. Now I had met a number of young ladies during my band days in high school. Being a band member always attracted a pool of girls and I got to know many of them--not necessarily in the Biblical sense. But I had never met a girl like PW. She was a "half", as they say in Japanese: Half white, half Japanese. And I think she was the cutest girl I had ever met up until that moment. It was one thing to have her in the same class, but to have her talk to me from time to time. Were you able to understand the whole passage? Did you get this sentence? Did she just ask me a question? Man, I now had a tangible reason to study and be prepared for class.

    Of course, I was the new guy in class, and she had friends with whom she was far more familiar, and anything she had to say to me was limited to polite and generic conversation. But this changed in the Fall quarter, when I found her not only in Advanced Japanese, but also a Japanese literature course on the I-novelist Mushakoji Saneatsu. When I saw her on campus, I made sure to chat with her about class--Do you like the new teacher, Akatsuka sensei? What do you think of Mushakoji? When I think about it now, my conversation probably bored her to death. But she was a nice girl who was willing to talk to a dork.

    Anyway, we would bump into each other at the University Research Library in North campus, sometimes at night after seven or eight. We had coffee a couple of times and I would offer her a ride to her car when it was dark. One night, after we had studied near each other at URL, I got up the nerve to ask her if she wanted to get some dinner. Her first reaction was positive, but as we walked toward my car, she asked me if she could bring a friend. Of course, I said. How could I refuse? She called her friend from a pay phone and we went to a restaurant they go to periodically, a place called Sushi King on Wilshire in Santa Monica.

    I was infatuated with PW. Indeed, she mesmerized me. On our way there, I'm sure we had a nice convesation, but I don't remember a thing. My thoughts were on having dinner with PW and wondering who this friend was. But as we walked into the sushi bar, my infatuation was in danger of fading... quickly. PW called out: Hey, there's TY. Hi! You know Onigiriman, right?

    It was the second time TY--Mr. Native Speaker from Advanced Japanese--made his presence felt, rudely and unwelcomed.

    To be continued...