I don't understand why blogger has to be such a bitch about our breaking up...but for some reason it is just not wanting to cooperate. For that reason there will be so working link. Although I typed everything properly the first time...even when I tried to fix it I kept getting an "Error" message. Something about not excepting the request...why do we have to make computers talk like humans? Why? Why can't they just stick to simple number and letters that I don't understand. Why do they have to use words referring to rejection and my problems...because when it just throughs that stuff up in my face it makes it so much more personal.
You have no pity blogger...therefore I shall move on to greener pastures. A place where any size picture is published and displayed, without a twenty minute wait. Where my posts are not rejected...and where the interfaces aren't quite as nice, but they do.
The new digs are over at www.xanga.com/DannyBen. Stop by for a beer sometime.

So maybe I can give this thing another try...

There's just something that I don't like about the look of xanga...I really don't have much to say, but would rather just post a lot of different pictures. So here are the ones for this day...
Taken last weekend when my Friend Balic opened his new restaurant. He had a lovely Turkish dancer and plenty of wonderful food to go around!


and let's not forget about the man himself...


all in all it was a great party and I plan on going again in a few weeks for my Birthday...if you or your loved ones are in the area tell 'em to stop by.

Maybe someone will see this...

hit the road Jack...

For those of you who care,
I've given up on wandering ware...
hey, that ryhmes...
anyways, just trying to keep with the times.
So if you wanna keep in touch come over to my place at Xanga.
The address is www.xanga.com/DannyBen...it's easier to post pictures and what not...so yeah, look into it. Please and thank you.
Danny

For my sister and her desktop...

Sarah,
Things are going well. I don't have too much to say. Just wanted to know that I am thinking about you and all those around you. I miss home a lot. I have been thinking a lot about magic waters, food courts, cheap movies and sitting in a large couch wonderng why it is that we don't turn the air on until it is already too hot in the house. I am thinking about cool mornings and the hope that the rest of the day follows suit. Driving with windows down because the air conditioning in the car smells funny. Running around with friends in pursuit of where everyone is meeting up. The lists of chores to do while mom was at work. Day time down pours and lightning storms. Tornado sirens and the subsequent calls to the red apple to see if it was serious. Who needs a weather report when you have a mom to tell you it's alright, but really you need to stop calling me at work. Summer style and aloe vera lotion. Beach towels and secretly wanting to lay out in an attempt to change something about myself the easy way, let nature takes it course...I don't have to run around to get some color, even though it always ended up being a painful red. Cheese fries at the Riggins house and nights spent there...who knows who will show up and who knows what will happen. I miss Dad's grilling perfection and delicious potato salad and the endless tupperware containers of freshly cut fruit in the fridge...all of these things are running through my head as I sit 6,000 miles away in the wetness of Japan. I am happy over here and I would only change a few things if I had half a chance. The future is looking well lit. I don't know about anything for sure, but I am thinking that something good is going to come out of all this.
I look forward a lot. I look forward to the day when money doesn't impend my freedom. I look forward to the day when it won't be a matter of "can I come home?" but instead "I am coming home...". And in my heart I know that this time will come.
As much as it breaks my heart not to be there with all of you this summer, I can sayt that it was an amazing feeling when my whole family united in saying, "we understand". That's family 'eh?! Couldn't tell if you didn't want me or if you truly understood (I think that I'll take the optimists route).
I miss you all and I can't say how proud I am of how far we all have come. Crazy to think that something so screwy as "us" could straighten out this much. It's like driving in snow...and not going completely into the ditch.
I love you and I miss you and I will see you again soon enough.

Love your little brother...

ramblings and a picture...

How am I supposed to do this?
I have realized that I can not work in your factories and offices.
I can not act as though it all isn't too much.
I grow weary of the pressure.
Am I weak?
I must be.
When I think of all those people and their hearts and pride that came before me I realize how pitiful I am.
Money doesn't drive me.
Satisfaction does.
Where is the happiness in what I do?
I don't feel as though what I do makes that much of a difference. And even if it did I don't think that I would notice because I am too busy thinking about what it is that I haven't accomplished and haven't yet done.
Then when I think about how it is that I am going to do these things...These things that I feel drive me so much, my attention quickly vanishes and I again accept, neigh look forward to, the life that I find myself wanting to escape.
What's it going to be?
There are two columns, two choices, two futures. To me the first looks like a shopping cart, with a kid at the front, a basket full of food, and a wife leading the way picking and choosing turning only to scowl at my requests or to put something else in the little space that's left.
The other choice is just me. Alone sitting in a nondescript room wishing for the first vision but happy to be by myself.
I want to make my own way and create the reality as I go. But there are too many times when I just don't believe in myself...see, even right now I just realized that this post is really a waste of time. I started off thinking that it would be great, but in the end I've lost interest...I blame DNA.

A humorous anecdote:
I met a girl out at a bar the other night who told me that she had the ghost of a dead soldier following her around. Intrigued I asked how she knew this. She replied that a Buddhist nun who owned the snack bar around the corner told her it was so.
Interesting.
"Do you know why he's there?"
Her answer had something to do with the fact that her soul was damned or something like that. I didn't get it all, I was too busy trying to get the barman's attention.
I just picked up the beginning and end. I guess she is destined to kill herself. Or at least that was my interpretation.
It really was kind of sad. So sad that I had to move away.
As I bent over to pick up my bag I realized why it was that he was following her; her legs didn't even touch the ground.
She must of made him feel taller.
Damn soldiers, you can bury them, but the pride just won't die.

This here is Captain Ditto, a man of below average height, and a regular Japanese soldier. Too bad for the girl, if only she had drank that extra glass of milk when she was younger...but instead her soul shall suffer.
Lifes a bitch. Drink your milk. Or just don't visit Buddhist bar owning Nun's. They've got nothing nice to say about anyone.

The great philosophical minstrel show that is life...for Scotty on his Birthday

Two men walking home from work one day turned a corner to find an unusual site. On a street they had walked many times before they ran into a man standing amongst a passing crowd singing out loud. It was no familiar tune or amazing melody. It was a mix of body movement and murmurs with a whistle and a twitch thrown in here and there. Most of the lyrics consisted of grunts and what sounded like occasional laughter. Immediately the two men stop. After a day of staring at computer screens and office memos this stirred their dormant spirit within.
One of the men immediately turned to the other and through a laugh mumbled, “The man must be crazy. His song makes no sense at all.”
His partner nodded at first and then added, “It may be a little odd, but to be honest I’m a little jealous.”
Seeing the puzzling look on his friend’s face he adds, “Well what have we done all day? We sat at work without making so much as a peep while he stood out here singing for all to see. Although he may not make a penny at least he’s creating something new for the world.”
“What will that ever buy him?”
“Nothing I guess. What does your money really buy you? What meaning does it give you?”
“Security, what more could I want?”
With this they both stand quietly drawn to the man who remains bonded to his ballad. After a few minutes incommunicado the opposition simply rebuffs, “meaning.”
“Meaning? You think I don’t have meaning? Why else would I work? Why else would I even try to get up if I didn’t have meaning?”
“That’s not entirely what I mean…”
The conversation is interrupted by the final screeching note from the crooner and ends abruptly as the two wait for the next possible distraction.
As they wait patiently a few feet away glancing, not glaring, the singer hums a few more notes in possible preparation for the encore. But instead he gives in to his own satisfaction and with a look of pleasure approaches his audience.
Walking the short distance through the crowded sidewalk he approaches the two men who notice his approach and signal to each other it’s time to move on.
“Excuse me gentlemen,” they’re caught, “I don’t mean to press you or anything, but I wonder, did you like my diddy?”
Reluctantly they stop and turn. Both looking in opposite directions they offer their limited appreciation.
“I thought it was rather funny, if you don’t mind me saying.” Says the man with meaning.
“It was kind of refreshing.” Offers the jealous one. “But I have to ask, what makes you sing like that? Are you trying to make a point? Or is there some meaning to it?”
“Maybe,” he replies, “what do you think?”
“I think that you are wasting your time. What good comes from you standing out here in front of all these people making an ass out of yourself? Don’t you have a job? Or even a normal life?”
“I have everything I need.” The man acquiesces.
On that note the two men peer at each other and then back at the man.
“Well either way, I enjoyed your singing. Do you have a collections box or anything I can put your tip in?”
Confused the singer repeats with extra emphasis, “I have everything I need.”
Slightly agitated the pessimist sternly adds, “Excuse me, you have nothing.”
“Exactly, I have nothing. And everything.”
Confused the optimistic enquires, “How is that possible?”
“I have my song.” And with an air of renewed confidence the singer quickly turns his back and disappears into the crowd.

"Honey, do you remember that sticky hand that you bought me outside the K-Mart?"

"You mean the one that you throw on paper and stuff and it picks it up?"

"Yeah," he sighs as he turns his head away in deep thought about how to just say it.

"Well for the longest time I thought that this hand," pulling out a clear vending machine toy egg, "was the symbol for our love and our relationship. You gave it to me as a gift. Unexpectingly, and graciously. I accepted it and loved it. Just as I told everyone how happy you made me, I spread that sticky hand about everywhere. I shouted my love for you from the mountains and stuck the sticky hand to the kitchen ceiling." He pauses once more and collects his thought, if this is going to be done smoothly he can't loose it now.

"That hand slapped a lot of things and it pulled a lot of paper off of various surfaces, but over time it got weaker and weaker. The dirt began to stick to it. The dust drained it's power away. It wouldn't stick to anything after awhile."

The look in her eye and the direction of her gaze began to reflect just what it was that he was getting at.

"Just like our love," he continued. "It started out strong but over time the stress wore down the love and the small fights began to stick to our minds an took over the power that we once held between us."

One tear and then two, three...they all began to fall down her cheek. She knew he was right.

"Honey, this hand will always represent who I am and the many things that you gave me throughout our relationship. But to be honest, I have found someone new. Someone who showed me how to clean the sticky hand so that it's power is even stronger than before. When she first showed me how easy it was to take the hand in my hand and with just a little mild detergent and warm water clean it and make it new all over again...it was...just beautiful. I've learned how to love again and she has shown me."

Silence.

"Honey, please talk to me. Please."

She takes a quiet sniff and simply says.

"She can have you and your dirty little hand. The soap wears down the rubber. I knew that it would clean it, but I didn't think that it would be right to take anything away from who you are. You can clean the hand all you want, but soon enough there won't be anything left to throw around. Good bye."

Today I was teaching a class about Bob Dylan. I have a whole class devoted to the man. Don't really know why. Love his music, not a fan of the person though. However I thought that after I had gotten the nice scrapbook, DVD, and the CD from the recent "No Direction Home" marketting blitz I would have enough material to run a simple class for a few months.
Well it has worked pretty well for the past few weeks and it shows few signs of slowing...however my point was to tell you all what this mornings revelation was.
Here it is: some of you know the story of Bob Dylan as well as I do, but the thing that hit me this morning was the actual desire (emotion not album) that the man had at the age of 19.
Bob Dylan was from a small town outside of Duluth, Minnesota. After graduating from High School he went to North Dakota for a bit and then off to Minneapolis for college. There he found Woody Gutherie and eventually got the notion to take off to New York city. Not even 20 he left during a blizzard and hitchhicked to New York. Thus launching his musical career.
After teaching this little bit for about twenty minutes I began to ask the students what their passions were...one had another student translate "he wants to be a translator." Another wants to open a traditional Bed and Breakfast.
As we went around the room I kept thinking, "what's my passion?" I've picked up everything, sacrificed a great deal, and still I haven't gained a whole lot. Bob Dylan went to New York in December of 1960 and was playing Carnegie by November of 1961.
Sacrificing personal things and relationships isn't that trying to me. It's just the reason for the sacrifice that I don't understand. Theoretical benefits is all I know and even now, as my time over here comes to an end, I'm starting to tally them all up in an effort to rationalize my time...and lack of growth.

"To not live an ordinary life" is the only passion I can remember having. This is all I desire and all that I crave. However I have been left with the feeling that just about everything and everywhere is ordinary once you get there.

I talk to Larry everyday...

Recently I have had to face some tough choices, many of which I still have not answered. It was about two months when I woke up and had this extreme feeling of loneliness and despair. I had been reading a book by the French author Celine the night before and I have to admit that I think that effected me as I slept. The book is about a young man who keeps finding himself in horrible situations to which his only solution is to run away...and not in the noble "I'll take the higher road" kind of way but more in the "ignore it and it isn't there" sense of reality.
So anyway I woke with the sense that my problems were too great and that it was most likely time to run out on 'em. Which I would have loved to do, but as it is I had a class to teach. Plus my bags were not packed and I had laundry yet to do and, as much as my hygiene is not the best, I do hate the smell of dirty clothes packed into a suitcase.
Off to class I went with a paper cup of coffee and a horrible attitude to boot. This was most likely going to be one of those "talk amongst yourselves" kinda days; which, by the way, usually end up in awkward silence with a twist of food talk when the buzzing in my ears sets in from the dull quiet.
First period went off without a hitch or a buzz. As I sat in my paneled box truck like classroom I again got that feeling of abysmal pressure and lowness pushing down on my shoulders whilst my feet tapped and my legs said "lets go!" While dreaming of backpacking some great foreign country I swivelled around in my chair and turned on the t.v.
CNN, escape indeed. I proceeded to zone off into the infomercials and slowly nodded away...while my neck swiveled back and forth like a piano pendulum my attention was suddenly gripped and I sat forward to the sound of a thousand trumpets, or perhaps a synthesizer or two.
His eyes caught me while I wasn't looking, but when I noticed they pierced into my soul with their square and outdated frames. His jowls began to shake and from between them came the words I will never forget, "It's been a while dAnny."
I closed and quickly jerked open my eyes, "is Larry King talking to me?"
Gentle yet stern his glare was unjaded by my question. He did begin to settle into a smile and for a moment froze on the screen, maybe my satellite connection, not too sure it just happens from time to time. But this time it seemed to last at least...a little less than eternity, but not quite as long as forever, maybe a bit shy of a lifetime, however definitely more than a "sec"...I'd say about two minutes tops.
When the picture did finally catch up to the broadcast I saw that he was indeed not talking directly to me, but actually to the once great actor ANDY Griffith. The names do sound alike though. Beyond that though I fell into my little state again and could barely even summon the muster to care about the death of Barney (Don Knotts: RIP).
I sat inattentive not seeing, not caring, not nothing but something far deeper and less of it. I heard some talk about moving on to Anderson Cooper 360 and it dawned on me that it was almost time for second period. No rest for the wicked and dumb 'eh. I sat up in my chair and gathered my papers about on the desk and, with remote in hand, was just about to turn off the t.v. when again the square framed eyes of eyes were focused on only me and he simply said "good night and thanks for watching. Oh and if you get a chance try and talk to me sometime soon. I know you need the help. Now onto Anderson in New York". And with that he faded away.
As the day wore on I couldn't forget his last words, "talk to me tonight". Maybe it wasn't really Larry King, perhaps it was the almighty working through Mr. King. He is an open kinda guy, always having representatives of the many different world religions on his program. I always thought that he was Jewish...is it okay to ponder his being a Jew?...either way, he was speaking to me, and it worked.
All day I saw his face everywhere I turned. My lunchtime sushi showed the reflection of his liver spotted skin. The wisps in the cloud contained elements of his grey hair. I saw a picture of a beautiful suspension bridge set against a blue sky and immediately thought of Larry's classy red suspenders and finely ironed blue shirt...white collar, white clouds. The whole day was one continuous revelation of his beauty and majesty. I saw Larry everywhere.
With my head spinning I went to bed a little earlier than usual. I couldn't get the days thoughts out of my head. I just lay there tossing and turning, half scared and half excited. Two parts colliding and unbelieving. Not knowing what to do I was drawn to my knees. Honestly it had been a long time.
As I kneeled on the floor I thought to myself what it was all about and why I had been chosen. Or perhaps why it was that I had chosen to pay attention this day. Why? The fundamental word we all use, young and old alike. Always wondering and looking for the answers to all of the things we don't know, we don't understand.
I poured my heart out to him, or to whoever was listening. I laid it all out on the line. Everything that had been bothering me I gave up in a prayer to God, Via Larry King. It was truly a lively experience.
After I had poured my heart, my problems, and my greatest desires out I was left in a ball on the floor. I tried to stand but instead decided to crawl back into bed. My head hit the pillow like one of the many clumps of dirt that had graced Barney's resting place earlier that day 6,000 miles away. A pile of ashes and dust settled for the night.
The next morning I awoke feeling a little lighter. Not completely healed, but a bit better. Miracles are a slow process.
First period went as usual, perhaps with a little more excitement on my part, because the end signified my time to turn back to Larry. The television turned on in mid comment and I found myself even more excited when I found out that the guest was Liza Mannelli, at least one person I know of who needs more help than me. Larry was just about to take a caller when something happened to phone line. It was at this point that I was given my second message from Larry. Turning slightly to the camera he gave that playboy smile and simply said, "Sorry about that caller. Sometimes these things can be difficult. I appreciate your call, but you will have to wait to get the answer to that question".
I grinned in appreciation. I had been acknowledged, perhaps I didn't get what I was looking for immediately, but I know that it's to come. Along with many other great things. I'll just have to keep on being a faithful watcher and eventually all things will be reveled.
Still though, I talk to Larry everyday.

Do you?

So these are the trends for weddings now a days...but first some nice pictures that you want to see...because it's just nasty at the end....

so awhile ago I said that I had a bunch of nice pictures for you all...well I do...and there is a nice story of hiking along an old railroad track, eating a nice picnic on a warm spring day while looking about at all of the cheery blossoms...but I don't have time for that crap. So here are the pictures...you illiterate folks would probably rather look at them then my lame writing...enjoy!











Yeah...so it was a little late in the evening and I was at a wedding all night and one thing led to another...what can I say, I know how they keep the marriage/population/childbirth rate down in this country...guess you could say that I was just "hell bend for leather..." that is sooo wrong...please forgive me mommy. So I always thought that Noriko kept an open mind and all...but no. She saw me off doing my thing and immediately jumped ship...so I went looking for her and found her off...spooning with one of my friends...Damn you Vince, stupid Irish and their enchanting black spoons...

So Michelle you want to know where the pictures of yours truly are...well here's one...just a little reminder of just how cool I am...



I thought that the black and white look added a little class...Remind you of a certain "Loverboy" by any chance?

What's new with you?

Well it has been a while. I hope that you all can forgive me. A lot has been happening; I have gotten a better idea of what I want to pursue after I finish over here. Nothin for sure but I am planning on applying for a scholarship to study at a Japanese graduate school. I will need a lot of help and a great many prayers, so if you can...assist with both 'eh. Enough about me...or actually why not more about me?
So you may be thinking, "what's going on in Japan right about now?" Well my friend, I can answer your inquires.
At the beginning of last month interport was held. Now for those of you that know me, you know that I have been playing a bit of rugby over here (see past posts about falling on deaf kids, scrapped up knees due to insufficient grass in Japan, or any other post for that matter). From my third day in the country until today I have been associated with the KR&AC, the club I play for. Now this here club has a bit of a history, about 135 years to be exact. It was one of two clubs, the other being the YC&AC (in Yokohama, Japan...the port outside Tokyo), that played the first ever organized sporting event in Japan...I believe that it was a soccer match, however that is not important. So anyway, the two clubs have gotten together just about every year since then to play their sports. This occurance actually happens twice a year, winter and spring, and it a hell of a lot of fun. Each gathering consists of three days of sports separated by a night of feasting and drinking...it was all started by sailors, and we all know how those fellas liked to drink. So yeah...this year's theme was "maritime" in honor of those before us that used to take the long trip between the two ports by boat...imagine that...about a two day boat ride just to play a bit of sport...dedication, of the likes I don't think I have...although it could have been a bit of fun...regardless this is going on too long, so screw the story and on with the pictures...first off, appropriately enough, we have my first mate and fellow prop "sensei"...

And then of course it wouldn't quite be a maritime party without a little wildlife...for that we went a little arctic, now I know that she can be a bit frigid, but even this hand made costume warmed my heart...

While we are usually a peaceful bunch many of the men thought that they would go the violent side...or maybe they were just inspired by the popularity of Johnny Depp and his own pirate side...either way, there was a massive amount of pirates, but only one really pulled it off with his rough yet suave demeanor...

Overall the party was a blast...wish I could say the same for the game itself...but sadly enough we were kicked in the stomachs...and various other parts...and subsequently were defeated 90-0. Oh well...honestly though...those guys were really good. Their team was made up of semi-professional and professional folks...or so we tell ourselves...either way it as a good game and all enjoyed the festivities.

Now on to the big boys...
The month of March also marks the return of sumo wrestling to the Kansai area (where I live). The Bashyo (two week tournament) came and went without too much of a fuss. No big upsets, the Mongolian Asashoryu (spelling could be way off...if you care look it up...sure wikipedia has something for ya) walked away with yet another tournament win...go him! The only big difference this year was that I attended. Now it's not too often that these things get the prescense of someone like me...at least on the spectator side that is. It was a lot of fun; not too much to say, you all are about as familiar with sumo as I am...maybe you know a little more or a little less, either way it's just a little. However I do want to comment that public events like this still blow my mind in Japan...only because you are allowed to go in with any food/drink that you want. Don't have to hide it or pay extra or anything...just walk in with your groccery bag and chilly bin and you're good to go. It's amazing...I only have a couple shots from the tourny...we had to sit pretty far away...but they aren't all that bad...
よし！



So yeah...that's about what I've been up to within the last month...it's been a lot of fun. I also took a really nice little day trip last weekend...and I do have a lot of pictures to share with you, but for now I am feeling a little tuckered out and think that I'll wait until next time to share all that with you. If I told you about it now it'd just be too much to write, too much for you to read, and then I wouldn't have anything to tell you about for the next month...so I'll see you soon and I hope that all is well...take care and much love!

this is a test and only a test...also this picture was taking over the weekend...I went hiking. It was fun. I shall have more to say about it and photos to go along with the aforementioned story...it will just take a little time to photoshop the pictures. Take care until then.

here ya go...

I found it in my e-mail. I would love to post more but the server at my school has been acting funny recently and I don't really care to know why...sorry...apathy has me by the short and curlies...however I do want to say that I am fine and that I have been thinking a lot about all of you lately. I want to thank Mike for the mind numbing tv and for Sarah & Brian for the great tunes...you have all made my life complete these past few difficult months. Thank you all.

On with the cut and pasted memo...
> It started out innocently enough. I began to think at parties now
> and then to loosen up. Inevitably, though, one thought led to
> another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker.
> I began to think alone -- "to relax," I told myself but I knew it
> wasn't true.
> Thinking became more and more important to me, and finally I was
> thinking all the time. That was when things began to sour at home.
> One evening, I turned off the TV and asked my wife about the
> meaning of life. She spent that night at her mother's.
> I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment
> don't mix but I couldn't stop myself. I began to avoid friends at
> lunchtime so I could read Thoreau and Kafka. I would return to the
> office dizzied and confused, asking, "What is it exactly that we
> are doing here?"
> One day the boss called me in. He said, "Listen, I like you, and it
> hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem.
> If you don't stop thinking on the job, I'm going to have to let you
> go."
> This gave me a lot to think about.
> I came home early after my conversation with the boss. "Honey," I
> confessed, "I've been thinking..."
> "I know you've been thinking," she said, "Again! I want a divorce!"
> "But Honey, it's not that serious."
> "It is too serious!" she said, her lower lip aquiver. "You think as
> much as a college professor and they don't make any money! I refuse
> to let you do that to me!"
> "That's a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently.
> She exploded in tears of rage and frustration, but I was in no mood
> to deal with the drama. "I'm going to the library," I snarled as I
> stomped out the door.
> I headed for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche. I roared
> into the parking lot with NPR blaring on the radio and ran up to
> the big glass doors. But they wouldn't open. The library was closed.
> To this day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me
> that night. As I sank to the ground, clawing at the unfeeling
> glass, whimpering for Zarathustra, a poster caught my eye. "Friend,
> is heavy thinking ruining your life?" it read. You probably
> recognize that line. It comes from Thinkers Anonymous. Which is why
> I am what I am today: a recovering thinker.
> I never miss a TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a non-
> educational video. Last week it was "Porky's." Then we share
> experiences about how we avoided thinking since the last meeting. I
> still have my job, and things are a lot better at home.
> Life just seems... easier, somehow, now that I've stopped thinking.
> I think the road to recovery is nearly complete for me.
> In fact, today I registered to vote Republican.

I hope to be back to you all in full form very soon...much love...danny...
ps: it's a little old...but i hope that you enjoy the picture...I played santa for a friend of mine...it's his old lady...

I know that it has been a while since you all have heard from me. Sorry about that. Things are getting back to normal out here in Japan. I have started teaching all of my regular classes as well as some extras...staying busy to say the least. Lets just hope that it all helps the cause.
So what else is crackin'? Not too much...I am starting to pull my hair out about what to do next...any ideas? Please drop them at the door...or via e-mail: dbaxelson@yahoo.com...don't be shy, I'm an open and honest kinda person and I respect your straight forward approach.
So I know that my personal life is a little boring...I would love to post some of the pictures that I took while on my trip, but I am afraid to report that the local server and my Mac are having a bit of a tift right now...but as soon as I get her up and running I will be sure to throw a few things your way...
I have to get running now and work on a presentation that I have to give on Monday...you know just a bunch of us professors gettin' together to discuss some things...ha! Not that I'm a real professor or anything...they just let me play in their reindeer games from time to time for fun...
Well I miss you all and hope that all is well!
Oh and last but not least: thank you so much to those of you that I was able to see when I was home. It was great to be able to relax and speak a bunch of english. I miss you and honestly am grateful. Your kindness amazes and warms me. To those of you that I did not get to see...I am very, very sorry. I was a little unsocial for most of the time that I was home. All of you were and are in my heart and I want you to know that there will always be a next time.
Thank you!

not too much to say...

"So this is Christmas...and a happy new year..." too bad Lennon was wrong and the war is not over, even though we all really want it too be.

So how was the Christmas? Good I hope. I can only hope that you got what you wanted and not what you deserved. Ha! Just kiddin'. No curses over your houses on my part. But I do have to say that Christmas in Japan this year was not all that bad.

Here's the short version: 24th Went to yaki-niku (grill your own meat, dip in sauce, repeat)...it was friggin' amazing. I had gone to this type of place before...but it being Christmas and all (the Japanese equivalant to Valentine's Day) I had to take the Lady Friend to a classy joint...so anyway, the meat was delicious (honestly, I don't want to say this, but it was like butter...so thinly sliced and deliciously marbled), the atmosphere was quite Japanese with a touch of Korea (yaki-niku is Korean by design)...overall an enjoyable evening...until the bill came.

25th: Went to the KR&AC (where I play rugby) and ate a wonderful Turkey and Ham dinner...with the fixin's...not quite homemade, but my stocking cap goes off to Simon for making all us foreigners feel at home...the day was accented with mulled wine (also delicious) and an afternoon/evening filled with 500 (a game a lot like Euchre or Spades...fantabulous)...my partner Pat and I won nearly 13 consecutive hands going undefeated for what seemed to about 2 hours...oh and I got a new rugby bag from Noriko...and socks, she's a t'inker

skipping ahead

December 31st: went to Noriko's parent's home...ate a big meal and drank Okinawan Sho-Chu...scary evening...went to Shinto Shrine/festival at 3 in the morning...a lot of fun...

Jan. 1-3: O-Shogotsu...Japanese holiday, much like Christmas...this is the time when the families all get together for three days of rest...traditionally the mother doesn't cook and everyone is allowed to sit about and watch t.v. specials...which I taped a great deal of...you don't have to know what they are saying to laugh...amazing stuff...over these fews days I slept, ate, and watched the tube...it was Christmas, Easter, and Thanksgiving being pushed into a solid three day stint...without the whole Jesus aspect though...no disrespect JC...just sayin'...

It was fun. But now it's over and I'm homesick. I really want to come and see all of you folks...that I'll see...or something like that...take care and I will there soon enough...sorry about the "..." I thought that it would an interesting touch...plus I've been reading Celine and he does it all the time...so I thought that I would give it a try...go ahead...you know you want to as well.............