Category Archives: Life and Stuff

Pay Me For My Time and Time and Time Again

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I am technically paid by the month but I think it’s time to start paying me for my time. Specifically, I think it’s time to start paying me for repeating things to teenagers.

There are three things I need to be paid for.

First, what typically happens in class is I introduce a topic and give instructions. With lower level classes I write the instructions on the board (although that may soon be replaced by typing them into a computer and “posting them via projector). I then walk my students through the instructions and turn them loose. I then spend five minutes explaining the instructions students who weren’t listening and apparently can’t be bothered to look at the board or ask a friend what’s going on.

Second, if I’m using a lesson in the textbook, I have to repeat the page number several times before the “What page are we on?” questions stop. (Note: this happens even when the page number is on the board.) Some students never figure out what page they are supposed to be on. If I instruct them to memorize the conversation, inevitably at least one pair will fail to get that memo, so to speak, and will try to use their books. There then ensues a conversation something along the lines of:

Them: Really?
Me: Really.
Them: Really?
Me: Really.

Finally, I’m looking to get paid at home because I have two daughters. The teenager is worse because she’s developed what I call  “teenage hearing” and “teenage answers”. Teenage hearing requires a sentence to be repeated several times before it is acknowledged. This is true even if the teenager is not wearing headphones.

Once teenage hearing is breached, teenage answers take over. For example:

Me: Go to bed.
–several repetitions have been skipped–
Oldest: hai.

(Note: “hai” is Japanese for “yes”, but as a teenage answer it means “I hear that there are words coming out of your mouth and that it is in my best interest to give a response to that you will think I care however this will not actually prompt me to change any of my current behaviors.)

(Note: “hai” is properly said as softly as possible so that She Who Must Be Obeyed cannot hear it in a different room.) The conversation then changes to:

SWMBO: Go to bed.
Oldest: hai.
–repeat several times until SWMBO gets angry–
SWMBO: I said go to bed!
Oldest: I said I heard you why do you keep hassling me!
–She Who Must Be Obeyed officially “loses her shit” and an argument ensues guaranteeing oldest more time awake before going to bed.–

Eventually all school projects get finished and our oldest goes to bed. Then the process starts again the next day. (I also need to get paid for that repetition.)

 

Homemade is Not Always Best Made

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Today was Father’s Day which meant I got to be lazy. Granted, this is not much different from my usual Sunday except that today I didn’t even try to pretend to be busy.

My Father’s Day meal was homemade pizza–lovingly made by She Who Must Be Obeyed and our youngest whilst our oldest pretended to study for exams–which got me thinking about the things I like when they’re homemade and the things I don’t.

I like homemade pizza. It’s a lot of work, especially as we don’t have a proper oven, but the results are usually tasty. SWMBO has developed a system involving pan frying and toasting that produces very good results. I taught her to make crust from scratch and she moved on from there and modified the system a bit. My only complaint about homemade pizza is that there never seems to be enough left over for breakfast. Someday I’ll have to save some and see how it tastes cold.

I don’t like homemade French fries. More specifically, I don’t like making homemade French fries as they require something like 27 different freezing and thawing and drying and frying steps over a span of weeks in order to produce one small order of properly cooked fries. I’d rather buy them frozen and deep fry them than work out the math and chemistry required to make them from scratch at home.

Homemade ice cream is awesome. I vaguely remember being disappointed a couple times that I was getting homemade ice cream instead of Neapolitan but I also remember always liking the homemade ice cream. SWMBO found a decent recipe that involves cream and crushed Oreo cookies, but I’m looking for a proper ice cream maker and a lot of rock salt.

Currently we have a device for making homemade snow cones but I’m not a big fan of the syrup the Japanese use. I’d rather get an ice cream maker.

Homemade hamburgers are problematic. First they depend on how well you form the ground beef patties so that they don’t shrink into a little ball that doesn’t fit the bun. Second, they depend on if you have proper buns are not. I’ve had the little chunk of burger between two slices of white bread before and it was not the greatest experience.

The argument that it tastes the same is just wrong. If it doesn’t look the same it can’t possibly taste the same.

Watching But Not Listening

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The company I work for has been pretty good to me but for some reason the people who work in the office won’t listen to a word I say.

For example, for several years we were blessed with being left alone and then one day the staff in charge of us announced they wanted to start doing classroom observations. I emphasized that they were welcome any time (well, not really, but that’s what I said) as long as they didn’t come at the end of June when we were busy finishing projects and making exams and going slightly mad.

Then, last year, things got strange: the observers came unannounced (an ambush observation) and they came on the last Friday in June, only a couple days before exams started. We were in the middle of filming projects with our students and it was the worst possible time to be there as I’d have to be out of the classroom while most of my students stayed behind.

When I saw the observers I said, in the most diplomatic manner possible “What the hell are you guys doing here?” Eventually I invited them to the filming room to watch a couple projects being filmed and peace was made.

When they observed later in the year, they called and warned me and I was much more diplomatic. No. Really.

Then, this year, before school started, one of the observers asked me what the best days to observe were. I held back the response on the tip of my tongue (when hell freezes over) and instead suggested the beginning of June as to come any later would mean they would merely see almost exactly the same class they’d seen before (me filming students as they did a project).

After all this I got a call explaining they’d be coming next week, which is the last full week before exams start. The conversation I had with them went something like this:

Them: We want to observe would the end of June be better or should we wait until next term?
Me:      Late September, early October would be better.
Them: So we’ll see you at the end of June then?

Now the optimist in me (as small and weak and naive as he is) believes that they are REALLY busy and this was ABSOLUTELY the ONLY time they could observe. The pessimist/realist in me thinks this is a compliance test and/or a way to show they are in charge of us and the school where I work.

I’ve tried to explain that these late June visits annoy the Japanese staff as well, but I have better luck getting through to our teenage daughter than I do the company I work for.

You Don’t Know What You Got ‘Til You List It

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Periodically, when I have lots of stuff to do, I avoid it by decluttering and purging a bunch of stuff.

(Note: I used to bake cookies as a form of avoidance, but it’s too warm for that and the butter required is suddenly a rare and precious thing here in Japan.)

(Note: The cookies were awesome and usually handed out to fellow graduate students, but that was another post.)

Part of my decluttering process involves sitting down and listing stuff. I started with pens and fountain pens and was shocked to see how many I actually have (23) and that doesn’t include the two on the way (well, at least one; the other is confusing. Long story).

Of those 23, seven are already retired and at least four of those have enough value to be sold. A few others just aren’t interesting enough to use or keep (which is part of the purge). One of my tests is to clean up a pen and put it away for a while and see if I miss it. If I don’t, it’s a candidate for the purge.

After that, I sat down and listed the bottles of ink I’ve acquired. That was even more shocking: 14 types in 16 bottles–also a long story. One of those bottles, despite my best efforts to like it, is crap. Two of the others just aren’t interesting enough to use or to keep. Some of them I’ve had for a long time and the bottles are half empty but I’ve counted them anyway.

Don’t even get me started about knives and notebooks.

Part of what happens is the acquisitions happen over time. A pen here; a bottle of ink there; both at the same time back over yonder. Inevitably, old purchases get put away and replaced but by new ones but rarely are all the purchases in the same place at the same time. Putting them in one place, I’ve just discovered, is much better than sitting down and making a list. Not only will you be shocked by the pile of stuff but you will forget to add one or two things if you don’t actually look at them.

Even as I wrote this post I realized I’d forgotten to list three pens.

The other list I make is which of the listed items I use regularly and why. That’s down to a half a dozen  pens and six inks. I recently bought larger bottles of two inks I like a lot, which is why I have 14 inks in 16 bottles.

What inspires all this is my desk. I like it cleared off because moving stuff around becomes a kind of distraction, especially when it’s time to dust. (And especially, especially, as right now, when it’s WAY past time to dust.) Over time, though, the acquisitions, and a few delayed decisions and projects begin to pile up and take up space. I get annoyed by it and clean things up and move things out.

Then I start getting more stuff, mostly because I now have space for it. Sigh.

 

 

Only Bad Choices for Health

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I’m currently on a forced intermittent fast. This is because tomorrow I’ve got a health check and the check will involve a tube and a camera.

This will happen because, as the company I work for likes to point out to the people who hire them, “Dwayne is over 35” and because I’m on Japan’s national health care scheme, I’m entitled/required to take a physical every year.

One of the oddities is that it used to alternate between full physical and mere x-ray from year to year. However, the last couple years it’s been a more comprehensive check involving blood, x-rays, eye checks and peeing in cups.

Every now and then, though, I’m asked to do a stomach cancer test. There is, however, no good way to do this. Choice One is taking a gas tablet, drinking barium and getting placed on the medical equivalent of carnival ride and then getting spun, angled and rotated whilst being irradiated. That is followed by a long belch and a mad dash home before the barium solution decides to evacuate. That is followed by hours on the toilet waiting for the barium solution to finish exiting.

A few weeks after the earthquake and tsunami in 2011 I was told that I’d have to get a health check that included drinking barium solution. My response involved a shockingly profane version of “I would prefer not to”, because I didn’t want to get stuck in a train station during a rolling blackout and end up spending hours in a station toilet. Also, there was no guarantee I could get a taxi because of the restrictions on gasoline.

Tomorrow, though, I’ve opted for the upper endoscopy. I’ll get drugged and have a camera shoved down my throat. Because of that, I won’t be able to eat until sometime tomorrow afternoon and then I probably won’t want to eat as I’ll probably have a sore throat and nausea. (Remember, this is for my health.)

In the end I’ll decide which is a better test, although I suspect they’ll both leave me feeling like crap. One literally, and one figuratively, of course.

Absence Makes the Heart Go Paranoid

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She Who Must Be Obeyed, being a mother, talks a pretty mean game: she doesn’t care about our oldest; she doesn’t care what our oldest does; she doesn’t care if our oldest eats or not; our oldest absolutely 100% does not need a phone.

Then our oldest goes to Tokyo for a concert and, She Who Must Be Obeyed being a mother, changes attitude.

Yesterday I wrote about how I didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing today. Then, finally, today I learned what I’d be doing today. Our oldest’s friend didn’t cancel which meant my job amounted to going down to the Ex Theater Roppongi at about eight o’clock and escorting the two girls home.

However, this meant the two girls would be going to heart of the largest city in the world by themselves. I was like “That’s cool. As long as I don’t have to actually attend the concert.”

She Who Must Be Obeyed, however, suddenly was concerned about everything and even gave our oldest her phone in case of emergencies. I entered Standard Daddy Crisis Mode which translates roughly to “Don’t worry about it.” However, that was met with things like: “What if there’s an earthquake? There have been three this week.” “What if they get lost?” “What if they join a cult?” (Note: that last one was mentioned sometime today but I’m still not sure of the context.)

It was suggested that I escort them down (I suggested otherwise). It was suggested I follow and spy on them (Once again, I suggested otherwise). SWMBO then noticed the tickets required those under 18 to have adult permission (I suggested that an hour after the girls left was too late to worry about such things. I also suggested she call the theater and check on that).

Eventually I made it down to Roppongi and did some window shopping. (Shopping in Roppongi sucks and what doesn’t suck is expensive. It’s an entertainment district on a shopping district.) It was a pleasant evening and I ended up sitting on a bench and doing some writing and some people watching.

At eight I joined several parents who were also waiting for kids. At first I was concerned as several men about my age walked out but they seemed to have some sort of official status. Then droves of girls walked out and met the group of serious looking parents.

In the end everyone got home safely and, as near as I can tell, no one joined a cult.

Finding Out What You Know is Not What’s Known

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There are unkown knowns, known unknowns, unknown unkowns and the information dad gets. In many cases when you’re a dad the unknowns become known long after you thought you knew what was going on.

In my case, I still don’t know what’s going on. Many of the knowns are unknown and the knowns don’t make any sense.

I thought that tomorrow I would be escorting a pair of teenaged girls to the concert of some animated tv program theme song singer. My job, as I understood it, was to be on guard if the audience turned out to be a bunch of geeky men about my age. I was eventually informed that, no, the man was actually popular with teenage girls and other young women which meant I’d be leading two teenage girls to a concert where I was most likely going to be either barred from entering (Sir, someone your age clearly has no legal reason to be here so we’re walking you out) or arrested for trying to enter (Sir, someone your age clearly has no legal reason to be here so we’re walking you out.)

At best a lot of people would be playing “Daughter or Date?”.

Now, if I understand it correctly, my job is to go down to Roppongi, one of the main party areas of Tokyo and fetch the two teenage girls at the end of the concert ( 8-9 p.m.) and escort them home. This job, for the record, still doesn’t seem to keep me out of legal trouble.

Cop–What are you doing standing here foreign guy?
Me–Waiting for the concert to let out so I can pick up a couple junior high school girls.
Cop–Why don’t you take seat right over there?

That said, I still might be going to the concert. If our oldest’s friend cancels, I’ll be responsible for taking our oldest to the concert and bringing her home safely.

My job, though, is still unknown. The only thing I know is, I’m not a big fan of concerts.

 

Babies Make People Insane

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There was a brief fit of madness at the school where I work today. Mostly from the women, but a couple of the men got involved, too.

Luckily, I knew what was about to happen and got to watch the madness unfold, albeit after briefly suffering because of it.

This only happened because I found a discarded or dropped memory stick in one of my classrooms and delivered it to the student office to be added to the surprisingly large pile of lost goods. (The pile is large enough that it reminds me of the large warehouse where the Ark of the Covenant is secretly being stored.)

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get immediate service as one of the teachers had just brought his child to school. This teacher is currently taking paternity leave after swapping with his wife. (He wisely waited until after 2:00 a.m. feedings and the toxic Velcro poop phase were finished.) However, clearly being bored, he brought the young one to school. The staff at the student office both looked at me once, determined I was not carrying a child and quickly shifted their attention to the young one and adored him with squeaks and koos that reinforced my notion that babies make people insane.

(Note: the insanity is much different for the casual viewer than the actual parent. More on that later.)

After pretending to play along by making faces at the child, I was treated as a member of the tribe and finally able to deliver the lost goods. I went back to the office an mentioned to a couple people that the room was about to explode. (More specifically, I mentioned that the teacher was visiting and “with child” so to speak.)

Soon the child arrived and there was squeaking and kooing and the crowd gathered and even women who already have children were saying how awesome it would be to have one.

This, is the first form of insanity: mother’s, upon seeing someone else’s baby, immediately remember the cuteness and how adorable the clothes were but forget the 2:00 a.m. feedings, the toxic Velcro poop and, more importantly, the Terrible Twos.

Even She Who Must Obeyed goes through this. When she enters this phase, I play a recording of our youngest letting out a blood-curdling scream that sounds like it belongs in a scene from a horror movie where the baby suddenly stands up in her crib, lets out a blood-curdling scream and then eats her entire family who are so stunned by what’s happening they either freeze or run down into the basement.

If you think I’m joking, here’s the actual recording:

 

The men also found the baby cute and a few played with it.  This is the second form of insanity: playing with a child and thus exposing it’s undeveloped immune system to the germs of dozens of strangers.

In the end order was restored.

 

NOTE: Edited for clarity on June 2, 2015.

Shaken and a Bit Stirred

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We got a two earthquakes this evening in rapid succession. The first was kind of humorous. The second started scaring us.

I’ve written before about how we used to get enough earthquakes that we got complacent, at least until the 2011 Tohoku Earthquake and Tsunami, which made us get a lot more serious about our emergency plans and preps.

However, after several months, the aftershocks stopped and my sense is that we’ve had fewer earthquakes. We occasionally get a good shaker, but they don’t impress anymore. In fact, there was one last week when I walking to the station. I didn’t notice it and wondered why all the trains were running several minutes late. I didn’t learn about the quake until I got home.

Tonight, though, we had a small one that my oldest and I noticed. We felt a little shaking and noticed the pull strings on the ceiling lights swaying. She Who Must Be Obeyed and our youngest quickly turned on the news. This is a normal reaction. If I even notice the earthquake, I act as if it’s perfectly normal that everything is wiggling and SWMBO gets very serious.

A few minutes later, we got a bigger one. This one caused the ceiling lights themselves to rock. It went on long enough that SWMBO and our youngest got in the doorway and even I got serious and started eyeballing our emergency kits. After a minute or so it stopped but we are suddenly much more cautious.

Lately, even Kansas and Oklahoma have been going through a cycle of quakes. Although it’s fashionable to blame Fracking, the truth is much more ominous: earthquakes are more common in the Midwest than people like to admit (note, the data in the link ends around 1972).

The bright side is, at least you don’t have to deal with volcanoes. Well, at least not right now.

 

The Best Laid Plans Abandoned Again

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I had a plan. Actually, I have a plan, and it’s a good plan except I’ve never been able to put it into action.

The plan is to write these posts earlier in the evening when I’m still feeling the effects of afternoon coffee and have the energy to dedicate to writing and editing, and to taking and editing photos if necessary. It’s all very simple and would allow me more time to read in the evening and get me away from screens before bed.

Unfortunately, that’s not always how things work out; or, more specifically, that not always how I work things.

First there’s the problem of working after work which is a difficult thing to do. My normal habit is to plop down at the computer and do absolutely nothing useful for an hour or so.

(Note: according to my definition “or so” can last anywhere from two hours up to several hours.)

If I’m really looking to waste time and or get frustrated at nothing, I might play a few matches or so in an online game. If the matches go well the “or so” might only be a half hour. If they don’t well, “or so” happens and I either play longer or rage quit. After rage quitting I might actually get some writing done, but none toward these posts.

Eventually we have supper and that’s followed by the nightly ritual of “Arguing With the Genius Teenager Who Knows Everything but Hears Nothing.” The arguments typically involve proper use of an Asus Tablet during study time. (Note: for me there is no proper use.) This typically ends in a victory for me but it’s annoying enough that I need to read something and end up putting off these posts.

Eventually I sit down to write these posts. That process involves 20 minutes or so of staring at the screen going “okay, so now what?” Eventually something gets written.

Next week the goal is to implement a new habit to write these posts earlier and then post them early.

It’s a good plan. The trouble is, it’s lot like all the ones that have come before. Also, I might have  a new, for me at least, Asus Tablet to play with and that could complicate things.