la vie, japan v. jersey

My place of residency in 日本 is secured, whadduppp. Oh, what a relief. And I'm just over the moon about the fact that in my search I was able to find the aforementioned 'Expo House.' Some young Japanese dude name Yusuke (nickname "boss"? Do I pronounce that a la the Japanese--bosu?) runs a number of apartments for youngins' in Kyoto, catering to a sizable number of international students. The result is this adorb little family that takes side trips and throws super Japanese tradition-y parties. I did my little creeping on their photo albums and there's this one picture of errybody having a raucous time doing karaoke--specifically, Gaga karaoke. I was all Yes. I will fit in. In fact, you shouldn't even let me near karaoke because I will sing. For hours. Shamelessly. I do that obligatory "What? Me, sing? Nonono" (pushes mic away) bit the first time and then I seize the microphone and bite off anyone's head if they come to close to the glittering strobe-light-pulsating diva bubble that encases me.

I didn't learn to perform. No. I was simply born half-Filipina.

**There are roughly 3874837 shows dedicated to letting dirt-poor, often toothless Filipinos belt/screech/strain out 'Party in the USA' and other such lasting musical works, in order to maybe win some pesos and bring home some tinapay to their starving family. Meanwhile the hosts of these programs are far too tall, leggy, and suspiciously pale (in the fashion of Spanish telenovela actors) to be Filipino, which makes for an extra-jarring viewing experience, but that's another rant.

Oh no, what was my point? ......... KARAOKE. God, I love it. I'm going to get to that sweet, sweet archipelago they call Japan and go the full Whitney Houston all in it. Bobbayyy. Bobbayyy.

Second point was, place to live! Yes! This means this Japan trip is actually happening, I will be in Japan, I will consume mad amounts of rice and love it, and I'll see temples and shrines every day (probably). I remember the nervous Schmetterlinge in my stomach, felt not too long ago when I was getting ready for Germany. And here they are again. Hallo! Shit. Konnichiwa. Meanwhile I am working on a love letter to Jersey. So far it goes

"Jersey-- "


Someday, Jersey, I will stop being so bitter about the fact that you, of all states, of all countries, were the one to nurture me during my formative years. I will stop being bitter about not having a posh accent. I will forget that Jersey Shore exists, ditto the shame. I will embrace you. But I will have learned to appreciate you in this someday distant future because I will have moved as far, far away as possible. I say this out of love, Jersey, but if I'm still here in ten years it means I have failed miserably as a human being.