Crossroads

Conundrums

2009-10-26T23:34:57Z

Do I want to continue studying English? Or do I want a nice solid Beta study?
Do I want joy in the work that I do? Or cash?
Do I want a meaningfull relationship? Or just single freedom?

Shit.

I don't know.

It's Alive~!

2009-10-11T00:10:37Z

People are going to be amazed when they read this. If they read this.
It's been such a long time since I posted anything on this LJ that most of you will have forgotten about this little place of mine on the internet.
However, this place still exists. And so do I. With a few alterations, mind you (me, not the journal). First of all, I have been studying English for about a month now and it has been okay so far. Not the mindblowing thrillride that I would have expected when I was eightteen, but a more down-to-earth approach to English, like I have come to expect from Leiden's Humanities Faculty. Needless to say, this includes a bit more than the usual Literature and Language Acquisition facets that I was expecting. Too bad there are always things that are not as in line with your interests as you would hope. A prime example in this case is Linguistics, which cannot grasp me at any level. I find this facet of English language studies one of the most dulling classes ever. Maybe it's the content, maybe it's my own arrogance that pokes my mind and whispers 'You don't need this crap, you're better than this' with its sweet little voice. But that's just speculation. In short; It has its good side and it has its bad sides. English that is.
I have also been living on my 'own' for about a month now. Not too shabby, if you count out the incident where I burnt part of my face while cooking pasta, everything's just peachy. Money is always an issue, but I'm trying to resolve that soon by trying to get a parttime job again.
Last but not least, I receiced the thesis prize for my Bachelor thesis of the Japanese department. One-hundred euros in book vouchers. Those, I will put to good use, I think. Too bad 'Dracula' (The Penguin Classic Edition) was out of stock a day after I had received the book vouchers. Just my luck. Well, there's always bol.com.

My mom asked me a question on Monday, when I was having dinner at my folks' place. What did I think of my brother's ex-girlfriend? To be honest: I liked her, I really liked her. She was smart, funny, sweet and cute. And I cannot understand why my brother had to break up with her. But returning to the matter at hand, she was implying that I start dating my brother's ex. To which I immediately raised protest because it was my brother's ex. I just couldn't do that to my brother. Besides, it would just be weird.
In return, I asked her a question; If she was worried about me because I did not have a girlfriend, while my brother and sister both have (or had) a significant other.
She wasn't in the slightest.
She grants me this happiness so dearly. Because I'm worth it.
That really hit me.

From Japan, with Love

2009-07-03T15:21:26Z

So, I finally made it back to Japan. At this moment I'm sitting in the lovely Khaosan hostel in Asakusa with a terrific temperature of 23 degrees Celsius blowing in on occassion, when it by-passes the AC-unit. I should be feeling glad I am back in Japan but most of the time I am either annoyed at the customs that are just plain silly, or the way the Japanese seem to handle foreigners. That being said, it does feel somewhat nostalgic, being in the same place I was about two years ago. (Not to say that I have not grown these past two years) Furthermore, I'm only on day three of what is supposed to be a two-month journey, so I guess I'm just whining again.
Before I went to Japan, however, I did manage to move out most of my stuff to my new room in Leiden. This means that I'll finally be living on my own come this September, but I'm not worried about that much. The only thing I am worried about is the fact that I'll be using up all my money on this holiday, which leaves me with very little money to start out with. I just hope I can manage to stay above any red numbers. The reason I'm worried about this is because I'm not sure I'll get my old job back when I return from my overseas trip. Something to do with the financial crisis or something. In any case, I'm not sure of my finances when I get back. But I'm sure I'll manage, somehow.

Scholarly speaking, my thesis is practically done, I just need to hand the bloody thing in. I've passed every subject concerning Japanese, so I just need to succesfully complete my other major, English, in order to get my Bachelor's degree in Japanese (yay!). Afterwards I will continue to finish up my English Bachelor. I'm also planning on trying my hand on the TEFL(Teaching English as a Foreign Language) so I can teach English everywhere I want. In conclusion; I've got most of this college life planned out.
And I'm going to force myself to actively participate in student life by joining some student body. Otherwise I'll spend my time writing. A Lot. I need to surpass a certain someone who has already worked out her Nanowrimo piece into a proper novel. I haven't made up my mind about RPGing, yet. Maybe I just want to do too many things. :P

The Sunday before I left for Japan, my parents took the entire family out to dinner, girlfriends and boyfriends included. Which left me alone at the head of the table. It kind of sucked being confronted with the fact that I haven't had a steady relationship for well, twenty-two years. Especially when your Mum keeps making you painfully aware of the situation you're in. Huzzah for that. And then there is this old highschool friend of mine, who is a complete mystery to me, I have no idea what she wants from me. Other relations are just not meant to be reprocicated.

Well, I'll make plenty of photos for you guys. :)

The end is nigh.

2009-05-30T22:26:57Z

Or, in other words; just one exam left before I call this year quits and saying farewell to Japanese Studies. (well, after I racked up enough points next semester, but I'm sure I'll be fine). Not that I want to call it quits completely; I still want to try and follow either conversation class or capita selecta classes, to keep my Japanese up to snuff.
Also, I'll be moving out of my parents' house in about two weeks, if everything goes according to plan (which it never does, but still) and I'll be going on an East-Asian holiday starting the 30th of June until the 27th of August, which is going to be super. I also have a sollicitation coming up for the International Student Network board in Leiden the 11th, so, basically, I'm in for some busy times.
On a different note; I've had it with my thesis. I just want to hand it in, but I still need to translate some friggin' Japanese source that's in friggin' ANCIENT Japanese (well, more like Classical Japanese, but you know the drill) and I cannot read a page of without professional assistance from our thesis coordinator who's been everywhere except Leiden these last two weeks. So yeah; I'm agitated.
Which brings me to the next point of order; the Wetenschapsfilosofie exam on the 9th. I hope I'll be able to pass since last time 75% FAILED this test. Myself being part of the lucky 75% with the astounding grade of a five-point-oh. If I don't want to do this subject again, I need to pass. Otherwise, I'll be doing it again when I start English this september and I won't get exempt from it.
So, yeah. Wish me luck, I guess.

It doesn't rain; it pours.

2009-04-20T22:11:16Z

If having a major motivational dip for my thesis wasn't enough.

I cannot graduate this summer, because I am missing some required points. So, I'll be graduating (hopefully) in December.

I am such an idiot, a twat, a fool and an asshole.
Riddle me this;
Why must I insist on hurting other people's feelings when I don't want to? Why do I give out mixed signals to people? Why am I such an utter, utter fool?

Fanblaat.

2009-03-26T22:12:07Z

Damn. Het nieuwe album van Ikimono gakari is gewoon fabelfucktastisch.
Net zoals het nieuwe album van The Decemberists. Dam. Damn. Ik ben verkocht.

Dus nu ga ik weer luisteren.

恋愛かな？

2009-02-22T23:32:43Z

"Shit, I just want to be happy. I wish relationships weren;t always so complicated"

~ Marten, from Questionable Content.

Sometimes, somebody else just says it better.

無

2009-02-12T21:10:42Z

I stopped contributing to the RP community on both Skwuig and RPOL. I don't know how it happened, but I think I gradually slided out of the whole thing. Not that it isn't fun; it can be a blast and some of the other writers inspire me to try out different things creatively. I'm just tired of the whole process the RP goes through. It's start, when everything is still fresh and exiting; the middle when it loses momentum and the inevitable end due to lack of interest, inspiration or any other reason.
At the moment, I'm tired of it. Maybe I will at some later point this year.
I also fell out with the Skwuig community, and for some reason I feel terrible about it. Like I'm abandoning something I shouldn't.
Gah. Just what I need this semester. More worries.

Heh.

2009-02-03T12:05:07Z

I got the Haruki Murakami diary, but it's so gorgeous I cannot put myself to write anything in it with my Babylonian handwriting.

On a different note; I passed every subject this semester! This means I'm another step closer towards my bachelor thesis and finishing Japanese.
(Okay, so I failed Scientific philosofy or whatchamacallit, but that doesn't count in my book).
That being said, I already booked my ticket to Japan for this summer, I'll be gone from the 30th of June until the 27th of August. Ample time to start working on my funds again. Luckily, I landed a job at the Gall & Gall, so I could have a steady income of money again. Yay me.
I also applied for some drug testing thing, but I still need to see if my school roster will allow that. It involves four overnight stays with four check-ups. Which will entitle me with the sum of some 1200 euros, if everything goes well. Ka-ching!

Unfortunately, I'm still sick-ish. I'm not as sick that I need to stay in bed all day, but not as better that I can hop about doing the crazy things I do. So yeah, one of those days.

Bleagh. I want to feel better, damnit.

Another year

2008-12-29T23:12:12Z

The year's gone.
Deal with it.

"Weinig voornemens, veel doen"

Six Words

2008-11-29T16:08:02Z

There was no cake,
only crumbs.

TJ

2008-11-16T23:34:06Z

Creative Writing pays off;

The Night I Met Tanaka Joe.

I’m driving towards Nowhere with sixty miles an hour. The car’s headlights illuminate the slick, wet road before me. It is as if I’m riding across the back of an enormous snake, writhing through the landscape. It doesn’t help much that the road has so many twists and turns it looks like it has been built by drunken contractors; it only helps keeping the slithering illusion alive.

I’m driving in total silence, the splatter of rain being the only soundtrack that complements this nocturnal journey. The sound reminds me of the maracas, on that honeymoon that seems like ages ago. Back when I was still alive.

My eyes stray towards the digital clock that is part of almost every car interior and I notice the numbers changing. Zero, four, zero, zero; four AM. Any other man would be sleeping in his bed right now. The ungodly nature is only illustrated by the sheer absence of cars on the road. Nothing as much as a truck passes me from the other side of the road. I’m a lone traveller, on an even lonelier road.

I had woken up in my bed in the suburbs just half an hour ago. My wife was still asleep, as usual. You could have fired a cannon in the room beside her and still she wouldn’t have woken up. She does not toss or turn at all in the night; neither does she hog the blankets. It is like sleeping next to a statue; not even producing any body-heat. She isn’t any livelier during the day.

I had clambered out of the bed, wide awake. This did not happen to me often and usually I just read a bit until I fall asleep. It works, most of the time, but sometimes even Auden cannot lull me back into sleep with his poems. It was one of those nights I just become restless.

I dressed, walked out of our bedroom and down the stairs, not pretending to be quiet, though the sounds I made echoed loudly in the big, empty house; we don’t have kids. The house is completely devoid of life except for myself.

I entered the pristine medical hub that is her kitchen and walked towards the counter on which I had left my keys to the car.

I closed the front door behind me as I walked across the lawn towards my car and blatantly ignored the gravel path that leads towards our idyllically red-painted door; my own little act of defiance.

So here I am, driving, feeling more awake than ever. I continue driving in silence for a while before I try turning on the radio. After my fourth try I find a nice jazz station. I turn down the sound a bit so it replaces the sound of the pattering rain by just a fraction of a decibel.

Glancing at the clock I notice I’ve been driving for about an hour now and my stomach gives a hearty grumble, if only to emphasize that I do need to eat. A traffic light makes me stop at the intersection of two roads, giving me four directions to travel to, although I hate the last option of turning back. I go through a list of diners, whose flashing neon signs were plastered alongside the road. I don’t recognise any of the names on the signs. Not really caring where I would be eating anyway, I turn left when the light hits green and eventually end up on a road that is even more desolate than the one I was driving before.

I decide to stop at the very next diner I see and I end up parking my car at a dingy looking diner. I notice two other cars and a truck are parked on the small parking lot as I ease my car in its allotted spot.

I get out of the car and start walking towards the diner where a flickering sign proclaims the name of the diner as ‘Ernie’s’. The door opens and a soft tinkle announces my arrival to the rest of the diner. A balding man behind the counter, dressed in a spectacularly filthy apron is wiping his hands with an even dirtier rag of cloth; the original colour peeks through the brownish and ochre stains like a convict looking through bars

“What’d you need?” he asks me.

“What have you got?” I ask him.

The man, Ernie, presumably, has a coughing fit before regurgitating the ‘Menu of the day’ with a copious amount of phlegm. I tell him I’ll take the menu.

“…and a coffee, please”

“Sure thing, bub” Ernie grunts, gives another cough and puts the rag on his shoulder while he ambles into the kitchen behind the counter.

Taking a look around I find a couple sitting in the back of the diner, talking in hushed voices. The owner of the truck, a man with a ‘Grateful Dead’ cap and a woollen vest, is lying knock-out on the counter snoring softly. It looked like something out of a Edward Cooper painting with a large dose of grime and dirt added to it.

I choose one of alcoves in the middle of the diner, so as not to be disturbed by the noises coming from both the trucker and the couple, who are giggling and fondling each other intently now. I take a paperback out of my jacket pocket and start reading. I haven’t even finished the first two pages before Ernie comes back and drops a plate of food in front of me, splattering some ketchup on the table. He follows it up by planting a steaming cup of coffee before me.

“Thanks” I say but all I get back is a neanderthalic grunt.

Picking up my book again I start reading where I left off, eating a frie once in a while.

My concentration wavers as I hear the doorbell jingle, announcing a new customer. With my back turned to the door and the counter I cannot see who this new guest is. A female voice rings through the diner asking for coffee and Ernie’s voice replies with his usual grunt. A tinkle of a spoon. The porcelain ring of a cup being placed on its saucer and finally the sound of liquid being poured announce the coffee as being served.

A ‘Thanks’ and a grunt follow up together with the mixed sound of nearing, light female steps and the shuffling of Ernie across the tile floor ends the concerto. I lose myself in my book once more.

“Hiya,” a sparkling voice asks me “Can I sit here?”

I look up and notice a woman standing near my padded alcove, a cup of coffee in her hand. She’s wearing a pinstriped jacket with a vibrant red blouse underneath and a pair of jeans accentuates the curves of her hips. Red Allstars top off the wardrobe. Her head is covered in coppery, curly hair with a set of brown eyes giving an overall warm feeling to her.

“Hello?” she asks again, slightly annoyed “Can I sit here?”

“Sure” I say and clear up some of my meal “Sorry” I add apologetically.

“No problem,” she says smiling and eases into the seat opposite of me “What’cha reading?” she asks me and points at the book I had put aside. I show her the book; it’s a compilation of works by W.H.Auden.

“Can I see?”

I shrug and hand her book. She takes it and starts flicking through the pages.

“Poetry, eh?” she says and hands me back the book “You a writer?” her voice has a soft southern drawl to it that makes her voice as smooth as silk.

I shake my head ruefully. “Unfortunately, I’m not that talented, I’m afraid”

“So, what do you do…err…?” She asks hesitantly.

I tell her my name.

“What’s yours?” I ask her.

“Tanaka Joe” she replies “Nice to meet you”

I raise an eyebrow at the name but I don’t mention it any further.

“D’you like it?” she asks me and takes a sip of coffee “I chose it myself”

“It certainly…suits you” I reply honestly, the name is as strange as she is.

“Thanks,” she says happily “So, what’s it that you do?”

“It’s not that interesting really,” I tell her “I work at a company that sells and buys bouncy castles” Ashamed, I take a sip of my coffee.

“That’s a nice job” she tells me with certain seriousness and stirs her coffee.

“So, what do you, Joe?” I ask her.

“I’m a god of death” she says matter-of-factly.

“What?” I ask her, unbelievingly.

“A god of death” she says matter-of-factly and a bit louder, as if I didn’t hear her.

“No seriously, what do you?” I ask her again.

“I reap souls” she tells me with a straight face, and a smile plays on her lips “Hence, I am a god of death”

I sigh inwardly. The crazy people you find in the deep of the night. I decide to go along with her joke, or whatever it is she’s doing.

“So, where’s your scythe?” I ask her “Aren’t you a little meagrely equipped to be a god of death?”

A look of disgust appears on her face.

“Gah!” she says, vexed, “You humans always assume because we are gods of death we carry a scythe” she throws her hands up in the air for added drama. “So now you’re wondering where my hourglass is, am I right? And why I’m not dressed like some LARP reject?” she continues.

True enough, I was thinking just that, but I don’t tell her that.

“It’s like that musician said. What’s his name?” she says and waves her hand dismissively “”The times, they are a changing”, right? You seriously didn’t expect us to wear that black, loathsome garb forever. Not to mention the unnecessary scare-factor of looking like an anorexic’s worst nightmare” she says, visibly annoyed. “Understand that there’s only one person I show my pelvic bone tone to, and that’s my boyfriend” She looks at me sternly with her brown eyes.

Unwillingly, I find myself being intrigued by her story even as Ernie gives us another coughing serenade. Whatever role’s she is rehearsing, it’s convincing.

“I even borrowed this jacket off Lady Luck to look more appealing to the poor soul who is biting the dust this night” she says looking me right in the eye “It’s so hard to give off the right image, you know”

“Tell me about it.” I tell her, as if I know. She digs in the inside pocket of the jacket and takes out a packet of smokes and a silver lighter with a skull engraved on the side. Lighting the cigarette she moves the bowl of chrysanthemums when she reaches for the ashtray. She takes an angry drag and aims the smoke for the ceiling.

“So,” I start “What do you do as a god of death”

“Oh, you know,” she says casually “send souls to purgatory, make sure they don’t go roaming around the globe. It’s such a bitch when they just won’t give in, you know. I once spent an entire night convincing a little girl to let go because she just couldn’t leave without her puppy”

“So what did you do?” I ask her.

She shrugs, “I told her she could have all the puppies in the world in Heaven”

“I see”

“Do you know how many puppies die each day?” she asks me rhetorically “Let me just say I’m glad I’m not part of the animal department. Thank God Mother Nature takes care of her own shit” She takes a long drag and blows a couple of smoke rings.

“So, you’re on a job right now?” I ask her and drain the last of my coffee.

“Yeah, some poor sod is dying tonight, in this diner” she says. Joe shifts in her seat and puts her feet on the bench, resting one arm on her knee as she tips off some ash in the ashtray.

Her remark does not even come across as a joke and even if it was, it’s not a funny one.

She takes a final drag from her cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray, leaving four cigarette butts in the crystal ash collector.

Turning her wrist she checks the time on a antique looking timepiece and clacks her tongue.

“Almost time,” she says, sits up straight and puts a hand through her hair “How do I look?” she asks me.

I tell her she looks good and I mean it.

“Thanks,” she tells me with a pearly smile and gets up from her seat, straightening her jacket “To tell you the truth, I never even liked scaring the crap out of all those medieval villagers. I think this is way more stylish” she adds with a wink.

“Well, it’s been nice meeting you,” she tells me and stretches out her hand. I take her hand and immediately realize it is icy cold. She bends over towards my neck and whispers something in my ear. Chills run down my spine as she lets go of my hand a walks towards the counter. In shock I turn my head and follow her from behind as she walks through the counter and wall and into the kitchen.

A muffled scream. The clatter of kitchenware and a thump on the floor.

I only saw Tanaka Joe one more time after that fateful night in the diner.

I was walking my daughter home from school, her pigtails bobbing along with her youthful, bouncy pace. Working at home on my novel had allowed me to spend some more time with my daughter, as well as picking up some household duties, unfortunately. My wife hardly had any time anymore with her gallery finally kicking off.

“Why are all those people there, daddy?” she asked me and pointed towards a crowd standing near an intersection.

“I don’t know, sweetie” I said and took her by her hand “Stay close to daddy now”

I walked towards the crowd and pushed a few people out of the way. At last I end up at the barriers the police have erected to keep nosy onlookers away from the scene.

It’s a car-crash, and a bad one at that. A car ploughed into a truck, leaving the passenger crammed between the underside of the truck and the roof of the car. Fire-fighters were trying desperately to save the victim with by prying open the roof.

“Come, sweetie” I said to my daughter and as I started to turn around, I noticed her; Tanaka Joe. Wearing a different outfit this time, but still recognizable with that coppery hair she sported. She was sort of lounging next to the car crash. Unseen. As if she wasn’t even there.

She caught sight of me and waved jovially, followed by a wink.

I gave her a smile and a wave back; knowing I would see her again one day.

“Who were you waving to, daddy?” my daughter asked when I ushered her out of the crowd.

“An old friend” I answered.

<3

2008-10-23T23:17:14Z

<3!

Something Always Happens

2008-10-13T21:08:17Z

I feel so stressed out when I think about all the things I still have to do that I feel lost sometimes at where to begin. I need to learn how to organise my life better. Take some fucking control.
I need to write two papers by the 24th of November, between 1000 and 1500 words, which is totally doable, if only I did not have to read so much for this accursed subject. Seriously, 286 pages for one 90 minute session? Give me a rest.
Yeah, I need a rest. I feel the sniffles coming again. Ever since I got back from Japan, I've been getting colds more and more easily. The warm weather has pampered me. I cannot take this dratted Dutch weather anymore.
I'm running out of time and I'm running out of money. Currently I have no job, only the steady inflow of money from government, and I refuse to get another job like the Albert Heijn. I'm done with that, besides, with the time/money-ratio I have available, it's not really manageable. That's why I'm trying to get my summerjob back. I've got a free day on Monday, so I can work that entire day, if need be.

Gah, I need to calm down. Really. I hate it when things go like this.
I try to keep up, but I cannot seem to. I feel absolutely crap right now.
Got.
To
Get
A
Grip.

Even my writing's suffering.

Meh.

Creative Writing 101

2008-09-30T21:52:41Z

So, I tried out the Creative Writing group at college today. Little did I know this class was to be dominated by poetry, hence the crowd was more inclined towards the feminine body of the English department, with the male body consisting out of me and three other fellows.
Nonetheless, it was really informative and inspiring as well creatively challenging.

Here I am, a pair standing alone,
Gathering dust in a box.
Everybody is gone
Nobody wears me with those sexy socks,
anymore than that gaudy mink.
It's not like wearing is a scandal,
while there is only one thing I think;
Why wasn't I born a sandal?
Now my life consists out of blacks and greys,
Without even a perverted vandal,
while I count the hours, the days
wishing I was a sandal.

This brought to you by the words 'Stiletto heel' and 'boredom', with which we were supposed to create a small poem. I agree that boredom does not really resonate this poem, but call that creative liberty.
Only problem now is contiuing this class while I have some required course at the same time. Gah. Since there's no attendance taken, maybe I can just skip it and do the exam. Still need the book, though, yet I;m sure it will all work out.

I was quite stressed this evening with all the work I had to do, but I did manage. Something I'm really proud of. Yay me.

Why it is so awesome

2008-09-19T15:38:14Z

One of the reasons Hellboy is awesome, derived from this conversation in "The Right Hand of Doom"

(In Hell)
Pastaroth, Arch duke of the infernal abyss:
What's all the noise about?

Mammon:
It is the boy.
He has eaten the pancake

Haborym:
He will never come back to us now

Pastaroth:
This is truly our darkest hour

Priceless.

Strange Days.

2008-09-08T22:09:30Z

The din of the city is hardly noticable to me as I concentrate on the sights I have missed for over a year. The weather is typically Dutch; unpredictable, which means the occasional splatter of rain gives a nice cooling touch between sunny intervals. It's good to be back. I'm in a good mood; if a somewhat pensieve one, but still, the sun reflects my mood nicely. Warm, but clouded by thoughts on occasion.
She's hanging onto my back absentmindly with one hand, while handling her phone with her other one. Eyes focused on the screen of a phone that is almost as diminutive as she is, she lets me guide her through the busy streets, dodging other tourists and the noisy citydwellers all the while with a casual grace. She follows me obediently and doesn't look up from her phone once. It's a good feeling when someone trusts you one-hundred percent.

Her boyfriend's lazy she tells me on the train; he's failed his year and needs to take it again, even though the school system is as lenient as it gets. He once studied from twelve until six in the morning and he was so tired he slept through the exam; a humorous anecdote to lighten the mood a bit. He doesn't want to go the movies, she tells me, and when they rent one, he falls asleep halfway through.
This scene plays over and over in my mind, like a bad re-run, while I guide her through the multicultural masses.
"We had a good time Saturday," I say to break the silence, while she still clings to my bag like I'm a lifebuoy on a stormy sea.
"Yeah!" she says with an exubarant voice but she is still engrossed with her telephone message.
"We should go again sometime," I add
She's silent for a while, but then raises her eyes away from the screen for a moment.
"I'm sorry about the kiss, " she tells me, a look of shock on her face, as if she suddenly realizes what she has done. The one thing I cannot forget.
"Don't worry about it," I say with a smile.

We only connect when we ride our bikes across the land together, she tells me, as the landscape rushes past us. He has a bike, you know. It's one of the few things we do together, she tells me with innocent frankness.

"Really?" she asks me.
"Yeah. Don't worry," I say casually, as if it's not a big deal to me.
"Thanks," she replies, giving a petite smile, and turning back to her phone, is absorbed in the message yet again.
"Don't worry," I whisper softly, as we continue wading through the water that is the people around me. She clings to me like a liferaft.
I let myself be guided by the waves. And I feel content.

Ye gods!

2008-09-07T18:39:32Z

I decided to go to the 'Boekenfestijn' in Utrecht last Friday. On a whim, really, because I felt I already too many books and with my spendthrift of late it would be better for me not to buy any more.
Still, I did buy quite a bit, because I simpy could not turn dow these wondrous offers they had. So the spoils were as follows;

Harry Potter and the Philospher's Stone (Adult Hard-cover)
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Adult Hard-cover)
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Adult Hard-cover)
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Adult Hard-cover)
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Adult Hard-cover)
Sam 7 ; Naar de Pruttelaar
Sam 8; Hazera
Sam 9; Dubbel & Dwars
Edgar Alle Poe; Tales of Mystery and Imagination
MANGA; by Amano Masanao
Twelve Days; manga, by June Kim

and a small book on Alfons Mucha, because I liked the artwork.
You might have noticed I only bought one manga. Gasp. The reason being that I did not find anything worth buying in the pile of Tokyopoop they had lying around. Most of Tokyopop's publishings consist out of either Amerimanga (manga from the U.S.A. ), manghwa (Korean manga) or overall unknown Japanese manga artists. They do have some CLAMP works, which I find interesting, but the printing was of such poor quality I turned down 'Tokyo Babylon', even though it looked quite appealing. Furthermore, Tokyopop supplies shoujou (comics for girls) mostly, with some shounen-ai (boys love) thrown in on the side. So yeah, Tokyopop is not my thing and I don't think I'll be reading Viz any time soon again.
I'm so used to the Japanese format of manga that I would sooner pick up Kana's publications then Viz's. Primarily because Viz tends to butcher the translation and enlarges the size of the easily carried tankobon to A5 size, which is a bit bulky, even for comics.
But maybe I've become too much of an elitist when manga is concernced. I like reading manga in Japanese nowadays, especially because I can, finally, grasp the comics without looking up every bloody line. Call it pride; or arrogance, but I prefer the RAW manga over some American butchered replacement. True, I do have over sixty manga translated into English, but only because I could not be deprived of manga that I had to settle for Viz translations.
So I am stepping away from buying badly-translated manga in the Netherlands, where the price is ridiculously high to boot. I'm one of those elitist bastards who is going to order Japanese manga from Japan so he can read it in the motherlanguage of the multi-page medium for storytelling.
On top of that; I had planned on not going to Abunai anymore because I don't fit in anymore and the usual fourteen, fifteen year old jumpy anime-freak crowd kind of gets on my nerves. Especially when they go about blurting random Japanese phrase without knowing what the hell they are saying. If I were able to go (which I cannot do this year, due to the fact it is sold out) I'd only go for the doujinshi, which is always interesting to see. I've lost my appetite for anime a long time ago. It was all fine and peachy in the beginning, but now I can say I'm beginning to grow old of yet another harem-anime in which the obliquious pervert-looking (but with good heart) protagonist is thrust into the middle of some variant girl-types, while we all know the first girl he meets is the girl he is going to end up with. Same goes for the shounen series, they are, basically, all the same stories, like they've all been following some shounen creating formula.
With some notable exceptions, there are few anime series that I actually seem to like. There is just not enough variation nowadays - and now I have become the 'old guy' who believes everything was better yesteryear.
Maybe it was.

And so it starts again.

2008-09-03T11:21:21Z

My third and, hopefully, final year of Japanese will begin next week, September eighth. I still have a lot of catching up to do and I'm not sure I like the new system they have now. While we were in Japan, enjoying ourselves, they changed the entire university system so that every subject would at least give you five ECTS, instead of two or four.
This means that several courses have been expanded to fit these needs and as a result have become more difficult. Where in the past you could fail a paper, but score high on the test, you would still pas the subject. Nowadays, that is out of the question. In the new system, you have to pass everything. If you don't, you have to take the entire course again.
In the case of the Language Acuisition course, which is comprised out of four elements, you only have to take the exam on the element you failed, but you still have to follow each class.
The problems start with the fact that you need to pass a certain course in order to advance to another course in the following year. In a secondyear student's case, he failed conversation class the last semester of his first year. This means, in the new system, he cannot do any of the language acuisition courses because he did not pass one exam. Which in turn means his study gets delayed with a year.
Needless to say, not everybody is happy with the new system.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow, when my friend from Japan will be arriving in the Netherlands. We're planning on going to London together, to visit some other Japanese friends in the three weeks' stay she'll be here. Furthermore, I met some old friends from my second year of Japanese, who were on exchange that time in the Netherlands, which was quite a surprise at the little party we had yesterday.

Overall, I'm looking forward to this year. Mostly because I want to get my bachelor's degree and I can finally start studying English( if only part-time).
Most of all; I think I've grown quite a lot in this year I've been gone. Maybe this is because everything feels so differently from Japan.
In any case; I would like the think I've grown. I just hope I can keep it up.

In which he nicks stuff

2008-08-04T20:53:46Z

Step 1: Post this into your LJ publicly.
Step 2: Others will reply anonymously about what they really think of you.
Step 3: Cry, because this meme is so brutal, and it hurts.

Give me your true feelings here, no holding back. I don't care who you are or what my relation is to you, but I want to know everything. So please, go for it!

In which he is in hyper-mode

2008-07-18T15:11:04Z

I played Street Fighter 4 and it was fucking awesome.

I did lose, though. Yeah. Hard. I got my ass handed to me. Still, it is an awesome game.

On another note;

Eleven days.

Eleven days

Eleven days.

And why do I keep buying manga!? I still need to send the other thirty kilos home +_+

It's an addiction, I swear.

In which he is annoyed

2008-07-02T13:52:02Z

If the humidity rate keeps rising this steeply, it won't be long before I will be able to swim to college. (Or raft, for that matter, with the current downpours)
I'm doing....okay, I guess. Not much more to add, just read my (Dutch) blog for the real important updates.

In which he realizes who his friends are.

2008-06-07T15:48:47Z

I don't know if I would have made it through this year without a card, MSN conversation or a phonecall from my friends. I must say I am truly touched by their 'commitment' to me. This makes me ashamed of not sending as much postcards as I would have wanted to.
I love you all. I really do.
I just realized I've known Nora for almost five years now. Just like Mijntje(though we don't meet as often as we want to) and Petra. Wow. Let's make that a lot more years.

That said, I do have a lot of people I cannot get in touch with and that is quite annoying. Tichon, for one, or Marlies, Raboud, or Tim & Lidy, or Lindy(and her compatriot; Diana). Roxy, too. In short: A lot of people.

Well, only a short time left, now.

In which our protagonist is amused

2008-05-27T00:49:15Z

Heh, those funny Japanese folks. DoCoMo, the name of a phone company here, stands for Do Communications Over the Mobile network.. Hilarious.
By the by, after reading " Dogs and Demons; the fall of modern Japan" my image about Japan completely changed. It was, as they call it, a real 'eye-opener'. Very spiffy.

Ah, and I had a test today. About Kanji, that might have gone better had I slept more last night. +_+
Not my fault, though, just the cold I seem to be getting (During the crazy that is Japanese weather)
Frell~
I miss the reliable, albeit more rainy, Dutch weather. I do not cope well with this humid crap.
Tah-Tah!

In which he learns a valuable lesson

2008-05-17T07:25:38Z

Stay away from tequila that costs three-hundred yen a shot. Though the price maybe very alluring, don't go near it.
Tequila always spoils the party.