An Idea

Reading: Heh.
Listening: "Sensual Seduction," Snoop Dogg
Craving: mango creme brulee
Feeling: calm, like vanilla pudding

The lovely Miss Wendy, who tonight asked, "When do you write your blog posts, Kristine?", inspired this entry. As you may (or may not) have noticed, my site lays quiet for weeks before a sudden outpouring--verbal vomit, if you will--of postings arrives. Not having the best of memories, I write my entries shortly after events occur. Pictures, however, I dawdle with adding. Though I can spend hours browsing food blogs or gawking over Anderson Cooper podcasts, I can't take the time to wait for uploads.

With all my delays, I thus thought that perhaps I might attempt more regular postings. Maybe about daily happenings, random musings. For my wonderful grandparents, the biggest fans my writing will ever have, this is thrilling news. To the rest of you, feel free to skip to posts with pictures.

And so today's posting is about today.

Tuesday, April 14
I arrived at work a bit light-headed. Slightly tired, full awareness of the location of all blood in my brain. Bad eggs at breakfast? Not enough O.J.? I finished my lesson plans, focused on introducing myself to the new students. Last year I created an elaborate PowerPoint presentation with PICTURES! COLORFUL FONTS! and FUN QUESTIONS! Too lazy to set up the projector for twelve first-year classes, however, (and quite frankly, bored with myself), I went Old School this year, with hand-drawn magic marker posters, a book of Shakespearean tragedies, the March Vogue, a map of Hawaii, and a much-used family photo to explain my fabulous self. ("You look just like your older brother," one teacher said.)

The classes went well. A teacher with whom I don't quite click wound up being perfect in the classroom. Her slightly abrasive personality, which leaves me frustrated in the staff room, left me pleased in the classroom, where I admire her as an instructor who can easily take command while still respecting my position. Successful team-teaching, like successful governments, relies on a balance of power. The Japanese teacher (JTE) taking command of the lessons, leaving the ALT silent, doesn't make for an effective classroom. And bossy as I am, the ALT's running the class above a submissive JTE doesn't make for good teaching either. The perfect class works with instructors sharing equal control and importance in the lesson. Besides that surprise, I was pleased to discover strong listening abilities in my new students, as well as a confidence in using English that the previous year lacked. The classes appear cute and friendly, despite that they still can't understand how I could be an American when I look just like them.

In the afternoon, Tea Club hosted a welcome 茶会 for the new students, opening our room to serve them sweets and tea and maybe to entice a few to become members. Only a few students attended, however, despite the offer of free mochi. Several teachers, along with second- and third-year students attended instead, with my former students getting a kick out of my deep bowing and ultra-polite Japanese. 茶会 are good practice for the cultural festival, during which we serve large groups of guests. I took home an uguisu mochi (one of my favorites--an olive green the color and shape of the Japanese bush warbler), which I wrapped and tucked in my purse. It is now flat.

Cleaning took much longer than I had planned, and I left work after 6. I stupidly wore very high heels, but I made it to the train by pulling them off and running to the platform in my socks. Forty-five minutes late, I met the girls at Katsukura in Sannomiya, where they were all passing the time over cold beers. Being with the girls always brings me calm, and with the busyness of the day, I appreciated time to relax. The warm, earthy comfort food of the katsu shop contributed to the mood. Our group wound down with coffees at Starbucks before Wendy and I returned to Miki by bus, chatting the whole way amidst silent businessmen who were most likely frightened by our English.

I recently learned that I've gained five pounds in Japan. It may not seem like much, but it's the difference between fitting into my clothes and having to buy new ones. My devouring a rich chocolate torte and caramel macchiato tonight did not help.

P.S. And with all that said, I still have a weekend post to put up. Ah, procrastination.