2010- What a year!

Happy New Year. I hope you're having a great festive season, with plenty of good food and good friends, and are looking forward to the New Year.

If I had to sum up 2010 in one word, I would say "dramatic". So much has happened and changed in the last twelve months, it's hard to believe. In the great scheme of things, I've been so lucky this year, I've had the chance to see how great my friends are, what a wonderful family I have and how kind strangers can be.

All through January, I was training hard for my first half-marathon at the beginning of February. I managed 18kms with no trouble, but limped through the rest. A sure sign that I was tired was that I fell asleep at the hot spring, which, as it turns out, is very funny for the other people there. Less than two months into the year, and I was learning the big lessons already.

March was spent packing up my home of four years to move into a shared apartment, which I moved into with two friends and a dog at the beginning of April. It's turned out to be a great move, even if I miss having complete control of the remote control at times. I've also learned a few lessons about dogs.

At the end of April, the company I had been working for went bankrupt, I found out I had lost my job when I arrived at the school in the morning. We had been told to come into work early for a meeting, and that we would be paid for the extra time. In reality, we didn't get paid for the month of April until a government scheme kicked in and paid us 80% of our lost salary, which took until August. I spent that day packing up my personal belongings and calling my students to break the news that our school was closing. To say it was emotional is an understatement. In retrospect, I can't believe the kindness of the students, who, after all had just lost their money too. They were, without exception, gracious and kind, their main concern seemed to be the school staff.  It was a great lesson in human kindness.

I got an extra lesson in human kindness when my friends pitched in. Roomie listened unendingly to the constantly changing story, in between cooking me plenty of meals and making me cups of tea (It turns out that making a cup of tea is the worldwide gesture in a crisis). Other friends  invited me over, let me use their internet and helped me work out my options. Seriously, I would have packed up and gone home to my mother if my friends hadn't helped me out. Not that going home wasn't a tempting option, Mum and Dad, as always, gave me sound advice but gave me space to work things out for myself. In the end, I decided I wanted to stay here, even though I would continue to miss my Dad's cooking.

I was lucky enough to be offered a job with the company that bought my old company out, and I spent 3 months trying to entertain kids while also teaching them English. I certainly managed to entertain myself, if not the kids, with my amazing range of dance moves to such classics as the Hokey Cokey and the ABC Song. It passed in a flash, not least because I was required to travel to a town 2 hours away two days a week to impart my English speaking wisdom.

Work didn't stop me running another half marathon in May, and taking a Japanese test in July. I ran the half marathon in the rain, and got another lesson in kindness when my roommates drove three hours to bring me my forgotten sneakers. Despite studying in the lucky doughut shop, I didn't pass the Japanese test, so I had another go in December. I'm still waiting to see if I was successful, even without the doughuts.

In the end, I decided to quit my job in August. I wasn't sure about the new company, and I was proved right when the school I had been working in was closed in November. I spent August trying to contemplate my future but really surfing the net. It's amazing how easy it is to waste whole days on here, isn't it? It was insanely hot this year and I was grateful for the hours I could spend in the pool thanks to my unemployed status. It was the only place I didn't sweat profusely.

I was approached by another school, and have been working there since September. Thanks to a well-placed holiday, I was able to get home for a couple of weeks in September, and got to see what my parents are doing with their retirement, It's so great to see them enjoying their time after they working for so long. I also got to catch up with good friends and to see my favourite 83 year old, Vegas loving aunt, who is every bit as awesome as I just made her sound.
November saw me turn 33, and also saw me run my third half marathon of the year. As I seem to meet runners over 70 who have endless energy, the two events are not entirely unrelated.

So here we are, in December, I'm celebrating Christmas and New Year with good friends and looking forward to a less dramatic 2011. Some plans are afoot, my Year of Good Stuff is going to be great; I have some exciting professional plans and who knows what else might crop up. If 2010 taught me anything, it's that we can't predict what will happen in the course of a year, but, if we have a little faith, we will end up right where we're supposed to be.

Here's hoping for a Happy, healthy and peaceful 2011 full of good stuff.

Choco-tastic!

Well, it turns out that my family know me so well. Various parcels winged their merry way towards me here in Japan this Christmas and they all contained chocolate and magazines. Ingredients for a happy between Christmas and New Year season when you're not quite sure what to do with yourself because it's not Christmas anymore but it's not New Year either, don't you think?

I was utterly spoiled this Christmas. I think everyone was being nice to me because I was away from home, which I should consider more often if only for the quality of the gifts. I mean, it'd be worth it for another tin of Godiva hot chocolate, right? Roomies also got in on the Christmas action and we managed three cakes in three days, although for the third one we had help. They even got me one of those cute little skirts for running that I've had my eye on for ages but have been waiting for the sales. Considering the amount of chocolate I've worked my way through this past few days, coupled with the first month of the Year of Fun Stuff,  I'll be doing a lot of running in the next few weeks. Now, people won't notice my red, sweaty face because they will be admiring my cute little skirt.

As it's a bit cold and stormy here, I'm taking full advantage of the holiday and enjoying some DVDs. I'm not altogether sure I understand the Japanese drama, Ryomaden, I rented but at least the actor is good looking. It's all about the eye candy, right?

Hope you're all curled up somewhere warm and enjoying the in-between season.

Hohoho Merry Christmas!

Or, alternatively, Happy birthday Jesus!

Thanks to the joys of scheduling posts, I'm not actually writing this on Christmas Day, I'm far too busy stuffing my face.

Thankfully, I've been able to avoid the typical Japanese KFC/McDonald's Christmas. Lunch is a vegetable restaurant with my newly pregnant friend. The choice of restaurant was based on what's best for her little aka-chan, and this place is popular among the healthiest people in town.

In the evening, we're taking advantage of the invitation tickets I was given for the local health club. It's a different way to spend Christmas Eve, but a bit of boxercise and a loll around in the jacuzzi/ hot stone spa/ sauna is a great way to get the festive season started, in my humble opinion.
Dinner will be at home, with a sinful amount of cake and possibly a nabe, based on the fact that nabe doesn't require hours in the kitchen and we can all congregate in the living room and cook together. Very festive.

I also plan on buying more snacks that is wise and trashing any illusion of a healthy lifestyle, despite the odd Christmas Eve gym visit. After all, I feel left out in January if I'm the only one not dieting. Might as well make it worth my while.

Boxing Day will bring some friends over for dinner and, hopefully, a good night will be had by all.

So, Merry Christmas, everyone. Hope you have a wonderful, joyful and happy day, whatever you end up doing.

The Marathon Party

In my official role as party interloper, I went to the marathon volunteer's party the other night. It was to thank the volunteers among whom I can in no way count myself as I ran in said marathon and did bugger all volunteering. Hoping no one would notice that small detail, I went along to the bash, with my old student who doesn't let being 70 stop him from running marathons, riding a motorbike and doing any number of cool things.

It was held at one of the nice hotels in town, with an all you can eat buffet. Well, being a good British gal, I took that as a challenge and ate more than is probably polite. It was lush! Spring rolls, grilled fish, sushi, cheese, all kinds of good food. Oh, and an all you can drink service too. I didn't take that as a challenge though, because I thought I might accidentally reveal my secret, not at all a volunteer identity if I had too much to drink.

At a Japanese "Bonenkai", there are certain things you have to look out for. Firstly, you have to keep an eye on the glasses of those around you. If they look in any way as if they may have sipped at their beer, you have to top up their glass. This is a custom that has lead to many a drunken indiscretion and I'm convinced that's the reason the custom developed. Wise to this common slip-up, I sipped my beer slowly and tried to listen to the speeches.

Oh yes, there were speeches! Speeches are an integral part of any Japanese party and it's always great to see the last people try to make their point after a few too many glass top ups. There was a kind of a tombola and everyone who attended got a gift, even your favourite party interloper here. I lucked out with a lovely limited edition tea cup made for volunteers, and a special edition towel. A man on my table was less than impressed with his free gym pass, so he gave me that too. Did I hear someone say blagger?

I was doing pretty well at covering up my lack of voluntary spirit, until the second party when further questions were asked. Oh dear. I pretended not to really understand the question, which was easy since the man asking the question had clearly taken "all you can drink" as a challenge and was slurring his words. My lovely friend answered for me, and added in that I had come to the stadium, in the rain, the day before to help set up, but when I arrived, everything was done. So I had tried to be a volunteer.

All in all, it was a lovely night. I met a 70 year old ski instructor who does a full work out every day, runs marathons and, randomly, also plays the trumpet. His eyes twinkled like Santa Claus' and he referred to himself as じじ　all night, which is like calling yourself "old geezer". I think I might take him up on his offer to teach me to snowboard.

On the other hand, I did feel bad all night for taking advantage of the free food and drink so I'm thinking of hanging up my party interloper hat for a while. It was great while it lasted.

And you thought I'd forgotten!!!

The Year of Fun Stuff is almost upon us. Yup, in case you hadn't heard, 2011 is officially the Year of Fun Stuff. Click on the tab above if you have no idea what I'm banging on about.

I've been thinking long and hard about how to organise my year, and, the fact is, I'm rubbish at planning anything more than a few weeks in advance. So, I've decided not to decide my challenges too far in advance. I don't consider that being uncommitted, by the way, I consider it working to my strengths (flexibility) and being open to new challenges that come up along the way.

I've also started thinking this could be a lonely old year if I do this all alone. So, dear internet buddies, how about you? You can make your own challenges each month, depending on what is close to your heart. It could be anything: joining your first belly dancing class; roasting your first ever chicken; learning a new language; going to a nightclub for the first time in years, or even not nagging your kids for a whole month... Whatever you feel would help make each month more memorable, more challenging, and full of more Fun Stuff.

If the thought of a whole Year of Fun Stuff is too much for you to handle, take it one month at a time. If you get too busy, too tired or just plain bored, no worries! There's no sign up fee, and no contract. This is supposed to be fun, remember?

In return for joining me on my Year of Fun Stuff, I will feature you on my blog in my regular updates. You will also, I hope, have more fun.

It's all so quiet.

Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat, and other such fun things. Christmas week means precious little in Japan, apart from a changed schedule in my school. Hohoho.

The changed schedule means that, for most of this week, I'm working in the afternoon instead of the evening, adults only rather than a balance of kids and adults, and in a different school. Apart from interfering with my daytime TV watching schedule, I was quite looking forward to the change. The different school is a different branch, nearer my home, that is shaped like a UFO. Who wouldn't be looking forward to working there?

I arrived before my start time like the good professional that I am (and not at all because I couldn't really remember how far away it was and I was a bit concerned that my rust bucket of a bike might fall apart on the way). As I walked in the door, I was a little disappointed that the inside just looks like a regular school, and let out an internal sigh. I also remembered that the UFO building also houses a kind of cram school for little kids. I greeted the ladies from the cram school, who I'd never met before, with an enthusiastic "Konnichiwa".

Now, when someone you don't know walks into your place of work, do you a) Say hello, and then go back to your work, ignoring the fact that they are standing in the doorway looking a bit lost. or b) Say hello and ask them if you can help?

If your answer was a), you'd fit right in in that school. I waited for them to say something and, when I realised they weren't going to, I also realised that I'd left it too long to introduce myself. I stood in the doorway, feeling awkward, until I caved, took my shoes of and wandered around the school, looking for the manager. The cram school ladies still didn't say anything, despite the fact that they had a stranger walking around the school. Hello? I could have been any number of crazy, dangerous people, but they still carried on with their work regardless.

The manager eventually appeared and I got on with my day, which consisted of chatting with lovely students about a range of topics, including World War 2, Christmas dinner and North Korea. Every time I ventured into the office, I was blown away by the deafening silence.

I've come to the conclusion that the manager who works in the branch I'm usually based in wanted me to appreciate her. I think she's cottoned on to my disapprearing acts, when I head to the other office for a bit of peace and quiet between lessons. I'll have to make sure I do a better job of looking busy when she comes to find me.

Tomorrow, I get to go to my regular school for an English Christmas tea, make an orange pomander and eat scones. At least there will be someone to talk to.

The party interloper

'Tis the season to be jolly falalalalalalalala. Do you feel it? If it was a usual year, I'd be on my way back to the UK, ready for a couple of weeks of my Dad's amazing cooking and my Mum's eternal fussing over me, which, let's face it, we never really grow out of. Add in a few outings with good friends and it's a good time. But this year, I decided to stay here, I went home in September instead, and, as the snow is killing most people's travel plans, I'm good with that choice.

Christmas isn't a holiday here, so I've been forced to kiss goodbye to dreams of turkey and roast potatoes, but there's no shortage of Christmas parties to go to. Admittedly, they are known as "bonenkai" parties, which translates as "forget the year" party, so, technically speaking they are not Christmas parties, but what's in a name?

As my work do will be held in January, I've been crashing other peoples' parties. Well, OK, crashing is slightly inaccurate, as I my friends seem to so keen to spend time with me, they get me to go along to their parties.

Saturday night, I went to a party at my friend's house, which turned out to be a party with her old colleagues at the sports centre, including my balance ball teacher. It was a great night, we all ended up talking until 3am, which is way past my bedtime. They made me eat octopus, which you're not to tell anyone about, I never eat octopus. My friend lived in England for a few years, so she had a tree all decked out, with no dog obsessed with eating everything in sight, so it felt really festive. The evening was slightly blighted by the four hours sleep I got thanks to  my roommate's need to do laundry at 8.30 on a Sunday morning, but why pick holes.

Tonight is another party for the people who volunteered  at the marathon that was held a few weeks ago. The one I ran in, rather than volunteered in, but as a party interloper, I consider it my duty to accept their kind invitation.

Merry Christmas, one and all.

It could almost be a movie

It's almost Christmas, did you notice? Have you mailed your parcels? I have. Yup, I'm sitting here all smug and judgemental, sneering at those who didn't get out and mail their stuff to their loved ones far away. Or at least, I would be if I hadn't made an error of epic proportions when mailing presents for my brother and his lady wife.

Apparently, I wrote the wrong house number on the parcel and it arrived at the wrong house in the right street. Potentially, the gift was lost forever. In this day and age, we can't trust people we don't know to think about others, we're all too busy to go out of our way, aren't we?

Well, as it turned out, in an amazing twist of Christmas movie type magic, a lovely lady named Barbara received the Christmas package I'd addressed. In an odd twist, she shares a family name with my sister-in-law and has a colleague with the same name as my unusually-named brother. I guess she was slightly baffled by the package and wondered who was sending mysterious messages from Japan. She Googled my name, because, when you need to understand something odd, Google is every one's best friend. She came up with this here blog and left me a comment.

I emailed my brother and deleted the comment, just because you can't be too paranoid about personal information, not everyone is as lovely as the lovely Barbara. My brother wandered over yesterday and now has his Christmas gift as well as a new friend in the neighbourhood.

It's like a modern day "It's a Wonderful Life", don't you think?

Is it fun?

I had a Japanese lesson yesterday, like I do every Monday. I've had a Japanese lesson almost every Monday for the last four years or so. I think it's safe to say I'm a creature of habit.

But yesterday, my teacher asked me an important question, "Is learning Japanese fun?" And I had to answer no, because recently, I hate studying. I used to love it, learning new words and recognising them when I watched TV; being able to explain something that I hadn't been able to before. It was a great feeling.

But lately, maybe for the last year or so, the fun kinda went out of it a bit. I force myself to study because I have a lesson or a test coming up, but there's no enjoyment in it. That's not good, is it?

After that lesson, I decided to do something about it. I need to find a fun way to improve my Japanese. I rented a few Japanese movies as listening practice. I've been meaning to watch "My Darling is a Foreigner" for ages. It's a movie based on a Manga (arguably, the best Japanese movies are all based on Manga) written by a Japanese woman married to an American. It's the story of their life together and the difficulties an international marriage involved. The movie was just chick flick enough for me to enjoy. It was quite different to the comic book, but I really liked it. I also rented the NHK drama "Ryomaden", a samurai drama about Ryoma Sakamoto. I haven't watched enough of it to be able to share the story with you, but it comes highly recommended by my hairdresser, and I make a point to take film recommendations from hairdressers.

I also picked up this month's Hiragana Times and a new reading book, which has stories by Japanese writers, with English notes to help me understand. The great thing is that the writers are pretty well-known and my friends have read some of the stories themselves. I get to talk about stories I've read in Japanese, which I know would bore most people rigid, but, for book geeks like me, it's great!

So, Operation "try to enjoy learning Japanese" has begun. I need to know Japanese to get by here, so I should probably find a way to enjoy it, right?

Does anyone have any tips on how to enjoy learning a new language?

The bust up with the bicycle lady or why fast food is bad for you

I was running late. I don't know how that happens. I don't start work until half four. but I still manage to be running late on a regular basis. It was almost 4 and I hadn't eaten yet. So, in my wisdom, I decided to go to Mc Donald's on the way to work. I have a choice between two possible McDonald's, as I live in the modern world, but decided to go to the one in the arcade because I thought it would be easier. First major error.

You see, leaving your bicycle in the arcade is very much "dame", they have specially employed old ladies to stop you either riding or parking your bike anywhere that may be in any way convenient. You're supposed to take your bike to a over-priced bike park designed to annoy the living bejeezus out of any sane person, complete with irritating staff who like to quiz any passing foreigner about all sorts of things that really don't concern them (Are you married? No, I'm a sad old spinster living very much on the shelf. Don't your parents worry about you? Not really, their only concern is about weird old men annoying me. Where do you work? Blah blah blah).

So, I walked my bike through the arcade, like a good little girl, thinking how glad I was that they had relaxed their insane rules and were allowing people to leave their bikes outside the shop they are going into. I hadn't heard any official announcement about that, despite the Japanese love for an official announcement, but every time I go to the arcade, I leave my bike in the street while I go into any number of shops. None of the Bicycle ladies have ever said a word to me.

So, I left my bike outside McDonald's and went into the shop. Next thing I know, one of the Bicycle ladies had followed me into the store and was jabbing me in the back with her bony old lady finger.

"Miss, Miss" she said loud enough to make the group of High school kids placing their order turn around and have a good gawp at myhumiliated face. "Are you taking out?"

Now, baring in mind that, as far as I'm concerned, I hadn't done anything wrong and here was one of the ladies employed to deal with cyclists in the arcade demanding to know what my McDonald's plan was, you can imagine my confusion. I asked her why she had followed me, and told her that, yes I was taking out. I hadn't planned to take out, but something about her tone told me that take out was really the only option available. Unfortunately, the floor didn't open up and swallow me, and I had to carry on and place my order as if a power-crazed old lady hadn't just accosted me.

I got my order (cheeseburger set meal, fact fans), and went to get my bike, ready to rush to work and eat it before I clocked in. I reckoned I had just enough time. Except I hadn't accounted for deranged oba-chans.

She came over again and started on at me, telling me I had to tell her that I planned to take out. That was the first time I had heard this rule and told her so. She went ballistic and told me that I was a liar, I must have bad ears, and a whole bunch of stuff I didn't really understand.

I decided to try to explain, big mistake. I tried to tell her that, on other days, the staff said nothing when I went into McDonald's, or any other shop, so it was a bit confusing, Oh, she was having none of that, and carried on going on at me. I repeated the fact that the other Bicycle ladies didn't say anything to me, so I had assumed it was OK, and then she really annoyed me.

"That's because they're Japanese."

Uh-huh. I think I've found a slight flaw in the program to stop the evil bicycles in the arcade. The staff can't talk to people because they are Japanese. Or, alternatively, they understand that it's really not a big problem if you leave your bike in the arcade if you're obviously going into a shop and this old bat was just a bit power crazed.

I realised I was on a hiding to nothing, carefully noting that, while this old bat had a go at me, a whole heap of nice Japanese kids had both cycled past us and left their bikes outside the nearby shops. It's sad to say, but this is not the first time I've noticed a small minority of people who like to home in on Gaijins, "explaining” the rules and failing to acknowledge any of their fellow Japanese people do the exact opposite of what they say. A phrase guaranteed to rile me? "Japanese people don't do that", when what they want to say is, "I don't like that." Grrrrr.

I ended up telling the woman she had terrible manners (yeah, I fight right), to which the old lady told me that I had bad manners, and I cycled off, out of the arcade so as not to get into any more trouble. I spent the rest of the day mulling over the whole thing. I hate confrontation, and it always leaves me really upset. I avoided the arcade since then and plan to keep away for the foreseeable future, I don't think this is one old lady that's going to give up somehow.

In the interests of balance, I think I should point out that this old lady is in a teeny tiny minority. To illustrate, let me tell you about my trip to the sushi shop, where I ate a lot of fish, drank a bit of beer and chatted with a nice couple next to me. We had a nice chat and the man told me he'd like to buy me a drink, but the shop only had bottles of sake, which I don't drink. He offered to buy me a barrel of beer, but I had to refuse, I mean, I know Christmas is coming but even I can't drink a barrel of beer. In the interest of Japanese good manners, and determined to prove crazy Bicycle Lady wrong, I said I was very happy to have talked to them and that was good enough. It wasn't until I leaving that I found out that, as he was leaving, the nice man had paid my bill.

So, you see, crazy old ladies notwithstanding, Japan is a lovely place to live.

Quirks

I was chatting with a co-worker recently, as you do when you should really be preparing lessons or something constructive, and, somehow, we got on to the subject of cleaning. As an aside, does anyone else end up having the most random conversations at work? So far this week, we have discussed the morality of murder (as in the lecture by Michael Sandel, the Harvard professor); the correct way to make a gingerbread house and how to deal with the constant stream of snot coming out of a certain kid's nose (I've tried offering him a tissue, but he always says he doesn't need it. But it's running into his mouth. What to do, what to do). Random enough for you?

Anyway, the cleaning discussion. It turns out that this co-worker cleans his apartment every Sunday, and has a kind of schedule to follow. Now before you start making assumptions, let me assure you, he's a perfectly normal guy. He has social skills, he can talk to people and I wouldn't describe him as being uptight.  He hates cleaning but enjoys the feeling of having a clean apartment. Like everyone does, right? Rather than do what I do and half-heartedly clean from time to time and then spend the rest of the week thinking that I really ought to clean, he has taken a more proactive approach. The cleaning schedule is just a practical solution, that frees him up to enjoy the rest of the week. Or you could say, it's just a quirk.

Which got me thinking about quirks. I've been thinking about what to do at Christmas. I have a few plans over the holiday, but the actual daytime of Christmas Day, most people I know will be at work because it's not a holiday in Japan, so I will be home alone. And I have been looking forward to going for a really good, long run as I won't have to worry about getting back for a certain time and I need to get in shape if I'm going to manage month one of my Year of Fun Stuff. Seriously, my idea of a Christmas treat is a long run. Some would say that's freakish, I prefer to call it a quirk.

To make me feel less freakish, what quirks do you have?

The day I learned that packing skills are useful

I arrived in Japan with an over-sized, green suitcase, filled with a mixture of excitement and nerves at the start of my new career as an English conversation teacher in small town Japan. My final day in England was spent in floods of tears as I packed, weighed, unpacked, repacked and wailed with despair, trying to meet airline luggage quotas. Didn't these people know that I was moving there? The fact that the suitcase weighed 10kgs empty wasn’t helping things. I ended up with a suitcase filled primarily with underwear coupled with a promise from my mother that she would mail the rest of the stuff as soon as possible.


I had been in Japan a whole twenty minutes before the trouble started. I navigated passport control with ease, which surprised me as I’d half expected them to say, “You want to live here? Yeah, nice try, loser, go back home and try something more your style.”

My relief at being allowed into the country rapidly dissipated when I tried to go through customs with my ridiculously large suitcase. Apparently, enormous green suitcases arouse suspicion among Japanese customs officers and I was summoned to the desk. A pointless plastic screen shielded the view into my suitcase from the non-existent queue of people waiting to pass through. For some reason, everyone else was safe to go, and, as my fellow travellers passed behind me, I wished, not for the first time in my life, that the world would open up and swallow me whole.

The customs officer, who looked about twelve, asked me to open the case. He looked absolutely terrified and I started to wonder if he thought I had a bomb. If that was the case, surely there were safer ways to investigate? My faith in Japanese airport security began to falter.

In the chaos of the packing, I had not really considered the possibility that someone other than me would want to open the case. As I opened the case, I remembered too late that I had carefully lain my new underwear all across the top of the case. As I flipped open the lid, the prepubescent customs officer and a selection of passengers from my plane were treated to the sight of Marks and Spencer’s finest selection.

It was the customs officer’s turn to wish the earth would open up and swallow him and he blushed a shade of red I haven’t seen since. He quickly mumbled what I think was a thank you and flipped the lid of the case closed with great haste.

I zipped it shut as fast as I could, hauled the case off the desk and hot footed it out to meet my new boss. I figured, after that start, my life in Japan could only get better.

The Happiness Project

Now, you know how much I love me a self help book? You didn't? Well, I love books, in general, but I adore the promise a self help book offers. "Read this book and you will be happier, healthier, wealthier, more successful, more popular," who wouldn't be tempted? And, when you the cynic in you aside, there is often some good sense in those books. And yes, I know that this good sense is basically basic common sense, but I've never had much of that, so they're practically written with me in mind.

My latest favourite is "The Happiness Project" by Gretchen Rubin. The New York based (so many Self help book writers are based in New York, which makes me wonder if that means New York people are really neurotic or have it all sussed and are now sharing it all with the rest of us) writer decided that, while she had a very nice life, thank you very much, she wasn't appreciating it that much. So, she set about a year long Happiness project, researching various theories about what makes us happy, and acting on them. There was nothing dramatic in what she did, but she reckons that, by the end of the year, she felt happier. Awesome.

I've been struck by the number of these year long projects, a year of living according to the bible, a year of living in Provence etc etc. And I've decided I'd like to jump on the bandwagon. I want to spend 2011 doing a whole heap of stuff that, by the end of the year, will, in theory, make me a more interesting, more fun person. The question is, what should I do?

I want to have a resolution for each month, to do something fun or interesting that will make that month worthwhile. I have a few ideas, but I want some suggestions. Can you help out?

For example, I want one month's resolution to volunteer at an event, another month to join a writing project (such as NaNoWriMo), another month to try a sport I've never tried before, another month take part in a Japanese cultural activity. You get the idea, nothing insane, nothing dramatic, just activities that will make 2011 pass in less of a haze than 2010.

What monthly resolutions do you think I should do?  Can you come up with a title that is better than "The year of fun stuff", which is all I've come up with so far?

The test (cue DUD DUH DUH impending doom type music)

The Japanese test threatened to ruin a perfectly lovely Sunday afternoon. It started off badly, when the Japanese teacher whose class I've been avoiding for the past few weeks, and who I dodged at a festival last weekend, was waiting outside the exam room. I guess she wanted to wish her students luck, thus making me feel awful for considering her to be a dry old drone. Now, I could have been a mature adult, approached her and apologise for avoiding her classes, thanked her for making the effort for her students on a cold December morning. Was I a mature adult? Was I heck as like. I avoided her like the Bubonic plague. I totally dodged her by zipping past her before she turned around, being fortunate enough to have clocked her when she was facing away from me. I guess my karmic payback for being an immature brat was the disaster that followed.

Well, when I say disaster, I mean disaster. I realised as I answered question number 63 that I hadn't actually understood a single question and had literally guessed all of them. I believe that is not the way tests are supposed to go. It's a multiple choice guess test, and you know it's not a good sign when you've gone through all the four options and decided they're all wrong. Oh dear. Was there a mistake on the paper?

Le sigh. All those hours spent pretending to study but really daydreaming about what Santa might bring me for Christmas (electronic dictionary please Mr Santa, or clothes from Gap 'cos I am classy) were wasted. I left the test feeling somewhat dejected. There was only one thing that could rescue the day. SHOPPING!!

I hopped on a train to the out of town shopping mall. I passed an enjoyable couple of hours wandering around and, by the time I got home my mood was lifted in a way only shopping can manage. Shortly after I got in, Roomie got back from working on her day off (!) and wondered out loud if eating out wouldn't be a good idea. And how about the yakiniku place a few doors down, the one that smells so good? Oh yeah, because there are few situations that can't be greatly improved by eating half a grilled cow and washing it down with a cold beer.

By the end of the evening, I was full of beef, looking forward to the increased wardrobe potential and mentally writing the Christmas cards I had bought. None of which require me to read Japanese.

Test? What test?

Surreal

It's been a quiet week, spent merrily procrastinating across the board. No studying of any value has taken place, the floor of my room is still suspiciously dusty (vacuuming is hell, as far as I'm concerned) and the food I promised to cook still hasn't materialised. But, hey! I re-read that book I wasn't that bothered about in the first place, I've annoyed the living daylights out of the dog, and the cushions in the living room look great in their new arrangement. I think you're starting to get which chores I enjoy and which I hate, aren't you.

I did take a little walk around town, exercise being important and all that, and I saw a couple of things that made me wonder if, in fact I was in the middle of a strange dream.

The first thing was a girl dressed a bit like a character out of Mary Poppins. She had a little straw boater hat on, in black straw, and a little knitted shawl, like the one the bird lady wears when Jane and Michael go to visit their Dad at the bank. It was weird on so many levels, but mostly because, when I was about 6, I  was obsessed with Mary Poppins. I watched it every time my Granddad came over, oblivious in a way only a 6 year old can be, that it might not have been on Granddad's list of things he wanted to do that day. But never once, even in the midst of my obsession, did I try to dress like the bird lady. Perhaps that twenty something girl was merely going through her Mary Poppins phase.

The second thing that made me wonder if I was unwittingly high, was a man walking a pigeon. Yes, that's right. He was walking a pigeon. On a lead. It had a pink tinsel collar and he was walking along like it was nothing unusual. Bearing in mind that my white face makes people gaze, mouths open, as I stroll past, you'd think a man with a pigeon on a lead would generate some interest. But no, I was the only one who even looked twice. Everyone else was too busy gawping at the white girl.

So, you see, my life in Japan is one long surreal moment. Weird.

Skipping class and why it's a bad idea

So, this week's theme is my struggles with the Japanese language. I'm sorry, but it's dominating my life, that and the lunchtime double bill of Beverly Hills 90210.

I've been attending classes held by some volunteers twice a week, Monday and Friday. The class on a Monday is quite fun, the teacher is new and must spend hours preparing the lesson. She's gaining confidence as she gets more used to me and I'm growing to quite like her.

The class on Fridays is a group class, with mostly Chinese students. In case you don't know much about these things, one of the three Japanese alphabets, the most difficult to learn, comes from Chinese. The characters are similar, and so my classmates can read the texts far more quickly than me. Which basically makes me the dunce of the class. Add in a dry old drone of a teacher, and you can imagine that I don't enjoy the classes much.

Being a mature and sensible young lady, I decided last Friday that I couldn't face a lesson and skipped. In my defence, I studied at home, at my own pace. The whole time I was at school, I never skipped school, I was way to scared of getting caught, and I was always the kind of kid who got caught.

Needless to say, when I went to a festival on Sunday morning at the international centre, who did I cross paths with? My Japanese teacher from Fridays. And how did I respond? Oh, I managed to be very mature and emotionally intelligent. I totally  pretended not to see her.

Perhaps proof of two rules of my life, I should never skip class and leaving the house is never a good plan.