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Miscellaneous II

See, Miyadera-sensei--really nice guy, the one who got me hooked on W. Somerset Maugham--said that he was gonna get some teachers together and we could all go to some museum--in Osaka, maybe?--and see this great art exhibit. At least, that was the original plan. Now, it looks like I'll be going with just him to see some exhibit he's already seen on a Friday night. Of course, I'll have to proctor midterms the next day--WHY is Saturday not sacred in this country?--so that means I can cut out early if things get weird, but still....

Yes, yes, I would love to go out to see an art exhibit with a guy and maybe have dinner with him--IDEAL!--but I WANT HIM TO BE MORE OR LESS MY OWN AGE, not my PARENTS' age. He's not bad-looking, and he's really nice and doesn't come across AT ALL as being a creep or weirdo-stalker-type (believe me, I know that kind all too well, having been the victim of that sort of thing before, and not just once, but twice), but sometimes I start to wonder. There's just this little nagging voice in my head. And the fact that he talks about me--which I'm sure everybody else does (and I know that Tsu bastard does, but he does it out of spite, so it's a little different)--is a little...suspect.

But on to other things....

I was thinking about peanut butter last night and sort of had this little peanut butter monologue going through my head as I showered. I started remembering peanut butter--I haven't had it in forever--and how I was such a peanut butter junkie as a kid. I loved the flavor, of course, but what I really loved was eating entire spoonfuls and feeling the pain in my upper chest as my esophagus SQUEEEEEEEEEZED itself to death, trying to get the damn PB down. I LOVED that feeling. (I also love the burn from eating too much wasabi and breathing out through your nose--like I said before, I love pain.) I also designed my own "snack" as a child: take a saltine cracker, put a little bit of PB on it, put a piece of sliced banana on top of that and drizzle with honey. I would make about 80 million of those and enjoy every minute of devouring them (it's all about the saltines: the salt brings out the flavor of the PB and the honey). I was a regular child-chef, so long as I didn't have to actually COOK anything. (In many ways, that's still true.)

But back to the PB: I haven't had it in years, and that's probably a good thing. I actually saw some cans of jiffy--or something like that--at the grocery store here and almost bought some, but then I looked at how small the jars were--half the size of American ones--looked at the price--twice the price of American ones--and looked at the fat/calorie content--the same as in the States--and decided to go with somthing else--OOOOOOOH, Corn Potage! (No, I'm not really sure what the word "potage" means, but they use it all the time here. They think it's English; I think it's French. It seems to mean "chowder" or something like that, but they use the word "chowder" for clam chowder, so maybe it only means "chowder having more to do with veggies than with meat or products of the sea." Maybe.)

There are now TWO crows that follow me to school and watch my hair as it rides on the top of my head and NOT in their nests. They want my hair so badly. Damn buggers.

Thankfully, the "woo-woo" bird wasn't there this morning. I must have scared him enough yesterday morning. Still woke up at 6:30am, though. Maybe it's 'cuz the sun's coming up earlier than it was before? Also, I still couldn't sleep tonight. I haven't changed my routine, and I'm sleep as hell, so who knows what the problem is.

Have been having miso soup (miso-shiru?) and two onigiri for lunch everyday. It's wonderful. I can't get enough of it. Forget all the fried shit they sell that I can't stomach 'cuz it's so greasy and horrible. ::blech::

Hmm. Better go get lunch while I still have some free time.

Will continue my miscellaneous ramblings later on.

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