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Last night when I got home, Emiko had left these lilies ("karaa") for me--at least, I think they're lilies--and they were huge and beautiful and I didn't know how I should arrange them at first, but finally I ended up making this:

They actually turned out much better than I thought they would. I'm so proud of myself. ^_^ I've never done ikebana on such a large scale, and it was nice to know I'm capable of going outside my comfort zone and kicking ass.

I ended up missing Emiko's visit--she had brought candy, too, but she took it back home with her because she didn't want to leave it out for the bugs--because Inazu-sensei nabbed me as I was trying to leave so I could go home early so I could get some rest. I ended up talking to her for nearly 45 minutes. She offered me an Okinawan doughnut--I should have just said no then--and it looked so good. Then she started asking me about my parents' ages and my dad's occupation--she heard from Miyadera-sensei that he's a shrink--and she told me about how she's taking medication for mild depression and how her mother committed suicide--I couldn't tell if she hanged herself or slit her own throat 'cuz the motions were a little vague and she used words I didn't know--and went absolutely on and on. I mean, I was flattered that she wanted to talk to me--Carolyn hates her 'cuz she thinks that she's all nice up front but talks about us behind our backs--but I wanted to fucking go HOME, not stand there with a half-eaten doughnut in hand as I slaughtered the Japanese language. During that conversation, I realized that my Japanese is SO FUCKING HORRIBLE. I could barely speak. And I only understood 75% of what she was saying. Yeah, she was using hard words, but still. Then she started bitching about her class schedule, going on and on about how she has 11 hours a week. I was like, yeah, well, gee, I have EIGHTEEN hours, lady. But I didn't say that. I just agreed at the injustice she'd been dealt. I really do like her a lot--she's a wicked-cool lady and a complete bitch, which I really admire--but still. I was so sick. (Some of the teachers here who were her students once still harass her about the time she brought her violently-ill baby to school and carried him around from class to class while she taught because she didn't want him dying on her, but she wasn't willing to take time off work. That's pretty hardcore.)

My little lizard scared the ever-lovin' SHIT outta me this morning. I went to open the curtains in the living/dining/whatever room and he just popped out. I didn't have my contacts in at the time, so it looked like this mega-enormous cockroach ("gokiburi") came flying out at me. He's a yamori, so I think I'll call him "Ya-chan," which means "Little Arrow" (more or less). He loves to scurry behind the TV whenever I see him. He's so cute--and is hopefully eating up all the bugs the poison's NOT killing.

After 3rd period, I didn't have any more classes to teach, so I came home, ate lunch, crashed for about an hour and a half, then went over to the "hokenkan", to have them check me for strep. The doctor there said it wasn't strep, but that my throat was pretty red and I did have a slight fever--although you could have fooled me 'cuz I didn't think I had a fever at all.

I hate doing doctor-patient shit in Japanese 'cuz my Japanese sucks and I can never explain anything. We went over what my symptoms were, and he said he was thinking of prescribing me "toroki". I was like, what the hell? And he said it's like Vic's. (But considering how many Vic's products there are, that didn't help much.) So I nodded my head vigorously and said--in Japanese--"Oh, yes, of course! I know exactly what you're talking about." The doc and the nurse kept saying toroki in a thousand different ways, like I had any idea what they were talking about. They argued with me for a while, insisting that it was English. I was like, "Eh, no. German, maybe, but not English." The nurse there looked it up in my electronic dictionary and it said "Troche." I was like, wtf? What the hell kind of English word is that? Below it, it said, "Lozenge," so I was like, "Oh, yeah, I get it. It's a lozenge, not a fucking troche." And they tried to pronounce the word "lozenge" and a good time was had by all--I mean, me. ^_^

That was wicked-funny to listen to. The way they said it sounded more like "revenge" than "lozenge."

I swear, "troche" is like some fucking random SAT word or something.

They prescribed some "troche," a gargle solution, and some antibiotics for me. The medicine will most likely eat away at my brain and make me a droolin' fool--that's what I call most of my students--but I'm going to eat, gargle, and dissolve them anyway (in no particular order).

So after being poked and prodded and harassed--the doc came out while I was waiting for my meds to show me a medical Japanese-English dictionary that had the word "troche" in it, like I had forgotten ever seeing the word in the span of two minutes and would suddenly both recognize and understand it--I went back to work, where Carolyn promptly told me that Tsu (I normally add "sensei" after teachers' names, but this guy is a fucking prick who doesn't deserve the title, especially from me) wanted me to start "spending more time in the teachers' room." He thought it was suspicious that nobody seemed to know where I was. He thought I had fucking gone home for the day, even though I had TOLD him the day before that I was going to the hospital. That fucker. (What am I saying? "Fucker" is too good a word for him.) Besides, nobody EVER knows where he is. He's always leaving early and skipping meetings and shit. I work upstairs in the English department room because:

1) I'm a fucking member of the English department,
2) it doesn't smell like nasty-ass Japanese cigarettes in there, and
3) it's quiet.

So now I have to "casually" make my way down to the teachers' room every few hours or so. What the bloody fuck is his problem??? I'm not Rob, for crying out loud. I do my work and I do it well. EXCUSE me for fucking going to the fucking HOSPITAL because I was fucking ILL because of work-related fucking STRESS! Geez.

I hate that man more than words can say. He actually makes my flesh crawl. ::crawlingflesh::

Nob sent along the following "names," so I filled out my answers for these, too:

EXOTIC FOREIGNER ALIAS = Favorite Spice + Last Foreign Vacation Spot: Rosemary New Zealand
SOCIALITE ALIAS = Silliest Childhood Nickname + Town Where You First Partied: Abilicious Kobe
"FLY GIRL" ALIAS (a la J. Lo) = First Initial + First Two or Three Letters of your last name: A. Sh (Ash)
DIVA ALIAS = Something Sweet Within Sight + Any Liquid in Kitchen: Toffee Oil
GIRL DETECTIVE ALIAS = Favorite Baby Animal + Where You Last Went to School: Kitty Washington
BARFLY ALIAS = Last Snack Food You Ate + Your Favorite Drink: Onigiri Jamaican Ginger Brew
SOAP OPERA ALIAS = Middle Name + Street Where You First Lived: Leigh Vosswood

I only worked two days this week, but they were my hardest days. I'm wiped. Time to have dinner and maybe take a long, hot bath.

Oh, yeah.

I love me sometimes.

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