Seeing as I feel most real when speaking with you, Oprah, I want to tell a little story about being fooled . . . by rocks. All this time I've been telling people to not be fooled by the rocks that I got but, to tell you the truth, we all know that I'm only superficially Jenny From the Block . . . that's right! I wear many masks. In addition to Block-Jenny, I'm Jenny with a crapload of money and really nice hair and at least 10 Bentleys. YEAH! My whole theory has been reverse psychology, if you know what I'm saying, but today it turned around and bit me in the backside.

In short, I was riding across Tokyo Prefecture with my new bike, and I totally got fooled by the rocks that the JR line got, because I was all, "yo, Musashino Line -- you must be the Chuo Line . . . I'll just ride alongside you for the next 5 Kilometers until we get to the next station. and then the station after that until I realize that I am heading north instead of southwest, because I don't have a compass and it's too gray to navigate by the sunlight and I don't know the Kanji for 'north'," and then the Musashino Line was all, "hah! She's totally fooled by the rocks . . . that I got. And she's an idiot. So I won't tell her not to be fooled. ?."

So when it started to rain and then sleet and I was still riding around outside, I realized just how deceitful it is to fool someone . . . with rocks. So I'm coming clean. I am, of course, still Block-Jenny, but I fear I have been misrepresenting myself. Regardless, I still implore you to not be fooled by my rocks. It took me an entire afternoon of pensive thinking in my log cabin in the woods to come up with this manifesto, and I'm sticking to it: No fooling.

XOXOXO,
J-Lo

p.s. wow, that was a stretch. whatever.

So, I have this friend whose boyfreind's sister's dog's cousin had this crazy experience. Ready?

She took the day off from work to run / play ultimate / help her roommate move / learn some Nihongo. All in all, it was going to be an awesome day, except it rained. Undeterred, she set out on a heroic run into Kanagawa prefecture, all the way out to Lake Sagamiko. The run was not flat, as she initally hoped, and she was pretty tired by the time she got to Sagamiko. But, she prevailed, until she found herself stuck between a rock and a hard place, the "rock" being the end of a road, and the "hard place" being a fence leading to a highway. So, she did the logical thing -- climbed the fence and ran along the highway (happily, mind you) until the Kanawaga Highway Patrol ran her down with a yellow van and orange flag and tried to communicate. Via hand signals, they together established that running on the highway is not allowed, and "choto mate" -- please wait a minute for the police.

She understood this, but was still a little confused, so she called her friend Satoshi and had him speak to the Highway Patrol in Japanese (trading the phone back and forth . . in the rain), much to the entertainment of Satoshi, who didn't know that his friend was a lawbreaker and/or fence-climber. All in all, the highway patrol were awesome, and they drove her to an EXIT, at which point they all waited together for the Tokyo Prefecture police to arrive and straighten out this poor confused gaijin girl. Satoshi ensured her that she was in no trouble and would not have to pay a fine, and so she stuck up friendly "conversation" with the highway patrol, who gave her a towel to dry off (it was raining) and let her choose the radio station in the van while waiting. They had some good laughs, and she discovered that it was their hajime te (first time) encountering an illegal gaijin in Asics on the highway.

The fuzz arrived, and they were ok, and they drove her all the way home (wearing helmets . . . in a car) so she didn't have to buy a train ticket. She tried to tell them that "daijo" -- they could just drop her off at the train station. To no avail . . . they seemed worried for her safety/sanity. In conclustion and in summary, it doesn't matter if she succeeds in this marathon for which she was training because she saved 190 yen on her training run. Thank you.

For your satiation, the answers to the six burning (and I do mean burning) questions for which my second-to-last post undoubtedly left you thirsting:

What: GIRLS DAY!
When: March 3rd
Who: Girls, ages 3 and 7
Why: To traditionally celebrate having safely navigated through early childhood and lived to tell about it
How/Where: How/Where else? Shrines galore!
Bonus Info: Not a national holiday, though "Boys' Day" in April is. Hmmmm.

Moving on, my new favorite food is Kimchi, which is spicy Korean* fermented cabbage. I wanted start making it at home, but discovered that fermentation requires a lot of time and is actually kind of revolting when pondered/experienced in excess. Plus, it costs a mere 350ish yen per quart at the store, so purchasing is doubly satisfying in that 1) fermentation is out of sight and therefore out of mind and 2) it's cheap. Hooray! One thing about kimchi I'll say: it packs a punch, much like granola packs a punch. Or apricots. Or dried cherries, if you know what I'm sayin' . . . and I think you do. But lord is it good on rice.

*Kimchi:Japan as Tacos:USA, for those who feel I am misrepresenting this country by promoting a non-authentically-Japanese food product.

A feminist? This girl? Nah. But come Japanese V-day and its accompanying traditions, which are straight outta the '50s, she doth protest. To explain: remember the days -- the '80s, I guess -- when V-day was marked by $0.25 Michael Jordan cards that set young lasses' hearts aflutter with phrases like "Valentine, You're a Slam Dunk!"? Remember? Well throw those memories into the burnable trash, my friends, because on this side of the Prime Meridian such frivolity is not tolerated. Instead, the ladies are forced into temporarily unrequited chocolate purchasing subservience (whew) while the gentlemen's tastebuds enjoy the production, free from reciprocation until March 14th -- "White Day," a day of duty, I've been told -- when they allegedly repay the favor with cookies. Allegedly.

So I tried to take a stand today, but then I caved. It's a Catch-22, you see -- stuck 'tween a tiger and its exploding . . . yes . . . One must choose betwixt being pegged as either shrew or suckaaaaa. So I bought chocolate milk for the bachelors at work and rode the fine line to victory, maybe. Happy Vday!

A tribute to Nagano, home of the 1998 Winter Olympics, the soon-to-be 2005 Nagano Marathon, and the hill and its accoutrements responsible for 100% of the bruised flesh located on my knees, elbows and backside. Ow. Further possible explanations of bruised flesh, in power-point form:

• 
  Snowboarding
  
  Desire to confront Nagano's hills in novice snowboarder fashion.
• Two hours of discouraging*, ignorant, pre lesson, pain inducing boarding.
• Two hours of quasi-translated (by my buddy for the day, Emil) instruction, requiring finely tuned calf muscles and acute toe-flexing ability.
• (Same two hours as above) Watching our flexible, limber, pliable novice Japanese counterparts acclimate to the sport like fish to water.
• Excitement upon realization of the immediately apparent effects of the lesson and our subsequent ability to gain enough speed to seriously maim ourselves on the hills.
• 5 total hours of bus-riding and Ben Gay.

Cho fun, though -- I think I'm hooked. It was a lovely day.

In Japan-related news, North Korea schooled Japan last night in soccer, which we briefly watched, sandy-eyed and sleepy after the long day, on a computer screen in Bic-Camera -- Tokyo's largest, most popular gadget-related venue. Don't be fooled, though -- no ball-points to be found within a 100 meter radius of the b-c. And in other Japan-related news, there has been a proliferation of dolls plaguing storefronts windows lately. Allegedly they're here in celebration of "girls' day," whatever that is. I wish I could elaborate, but after inquiring I've discovered little of interest.

Love,
Eliz

* The dirty secret behind my initial discouragement is actually the fact that my rental coat was orange. Ew. It was the closest I have ever been to wearing an orange body suit and/or looking like Tom-McGee-as-Big-P, and I found that experience to be a little bizarre. In orange-induced rage I was forced to seek out a poison ivy salad to ease my woes.

I sat down to post and became immediately uninspired. Poo. Perhaps 'tis because I've been relegated to the smoking section at the internet cafe and the secondhand is getting to me already. That would totally be a good excuse, except nobody is smoking. And the computers over on this side are much more functional than the crap I'm used to using -- i.e. a stick-free space bar for once! Inspiration, then, should arrive in scads . . . soon.


After I told level 3 student about my weekend, she described me as "outdoorsy" (once I taught her the word, which was later challenged by my co-workers). And thus, my outdoorsy weekend in a few sentences: On Wednesday, I partook in a late afternoon run from my apartment and up Mount Takao, which provided a breathtaking view of Mount Fuji and some rare solitude on the summit (photo @ Right). And on Thursday, I rode the Chuo even FARTHER WEST than Takao and ran an awesome loop around Sagamiko, a super-toursity, yet wonderfully peaceful (it being far from tourist season, see above photo) resort town on a lake nestled amongst the hills. It reminded me of the U.P. -- rather Mystery-Spot-esque in some ways (those ways involving things like swan-shaped paddleboats and garish, deteriorating decor).

I am moving, Michelle is moving, and Krista is moving. Goodbye Takao, come April.