Over-scheduled

It's finally Spring Vacation (春休み), but there's still a lot to do. Aside from all these little field trips that the Center is organizing for us, I have papers to write. I have one due on Wednesday, but I haven't even picked a topic. Yay!
The field trips are fun; in fact last weekend I went to a Mochi Pounding with Mike and Chris (the only others who signed up and weren't too hung-over to go) and some international students from Kumamoto Daigaku. We smashed cooked rice with wooden hammers until it was this weird paste, then stuffed it around balls of sweet bean paste. Yummy! From there we went to a bonfire where we made sushi and burned old New Years decorations. We chatted with some of the locals and had, like, 20 kanpai's. Afterwards, I was bestowed with one of the leftover bottles of sake. OMG. Big. Bottle.

So, these excursions are very enjoyable, but it's getting a little stressful. This coming weekend, especially.
1) Field trip for my seminar class on Saturday, up in the mountains to a blacksmith's house to see swords being made.
2) Tea Ceremony on Sunday, something of a must-see for all gaijin, and scheduled to be four hours long.
3) Farewell party on Monday for the international students who are leaving soon. (Some were only here for one semester, others have already been here for a year.) The kicker is that we have to organize it; I'm planning on making (Korean-style) sushi like I learned to make at the bonfire.
4) "Welcome" Ceremony on Tuesday from the Japanese-American Society (or something like that). Promises to be long and stuffy, since we have to dress up. And give an introduction in Japanese. But there should be free food. Rawr.

Blurbing:

As I was making my way home from the supermarket with my black bag of shame (if you don't know, don't ask), I stopped behind these two little kids, about 8 years old, waiting for the crosswalk to change. When it did, they both raised their little hands in the air and scampered across the road, looking both ways as they went. I realised that this gesture is not only functional, allowing oncoming traffic to see them better, but also serves as a reminder to just how bloody adorable they are.

Sarah is back from her visit with her boyfriend in California, and we're planning to go with Angelo to get some coffee downtown later on tonight. I'm sure she will regale us with many an interesting tale of their wild rompings through the Sunshine State. ^_^

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In the meantime, I heard from my brother the other day. Glad to know that he made it to Japan without too much trouble. He is, apparently, a tad overwhelmed by the Tokyo-craziness, but I'm sure he'll get into the swing of things soon enough. And my friend is now living it up in England for the semester. Shall have to visit her during the spring break, if I can afford it. Still want to flit over to New Zealand and/or Australia while I'm on this side of the globe.

Still thinking of a topic for that World Englishes essay. I'm considering researching online English, including the infamous L337 speak, and maybe seeing how it varies with different English backgrounds. There's other stuff I could try, but this topic is one that I'm somewhat familiar with. As is ending sentences with prepositions.

(And Fowler sayz:
It was once a cherished superstition that prepositions must be kept true to their name and placed before the word they govern in spite of the incurable English instinct for putting them late. . . . The fact is that. . . . even now immense pains are sometimes expended in changing spontaneous into artificial English. . . . Those who lay down the universal principle that final prepositions are 'inelegant' are unconsciously trying to deprive the English language of a valuable idiomatic resource, which has been used freely by all our greatest writers except those whose instinct for English idiom has been overpowered by notions of correctness derived from Latin standards. The legitimacy of the prepositional ending in literary English must be uncompromisingly maintained. . . .

In avoiding the forbidden order, unskillful handlers of words often fall into real blunders. . . . (473-474))

And Chomsky pwns you with his colorless green ideas sleep(ing) furiously.

Ongaku

I find that music seems to transcend the language barrier. For example, I was enjoying some spaghetti and rice korokke at Jolly Pasta when they started playing Green Day, which was followed by that "holla back girl" song. Not something you expect in that kind of atmosphere. But then, I'll listen to J-pop, not really knowing what they're saying but still enjoying it. What if I'm actually listening to some raunchy rendition of a "love" song? Does it make a difference if I never know it?
Or maybe it's like heavy metal with completely random lyrics about liking muffins.

mafin ga suki! mafin ga suki!

Haha. I think there was something in my tea....