missing the mochiness

Woe is me, she whose little girl is off being best friends with someone else.


pretty little thing

Oh! My. Hello there, my love.


to twist or to dip?

Holy mother. This made me forget, for just a few seconds, my urge to punch a lot of people around here. Are your taste buds about to explode? Did you lick the screen? Drool on the keyboard? Mmm.

cajone baloney

I am really fucking pissed off.

This Friday will be my last day at my current job – a day that I have been waiting for since 3 weeks ago when I gave notice; since 2 months ago when I started actively looking for a new job; since many moons ago when I wanted to actively look for a new job but decided to wait until I had been here a year. You know, in good faith.

Well I'll tell you what. Good faith can shove it. Okay, not always. But when dealing with the type of people that it's become apparent that I'm dealing with – the type of people that promise something we'll call one bajillion dollars (because really, whether you're talking about one dollar or one bajillion dollars, or my leftover french fries for a bite of your sandwich, a deal is a deal), and then stall and stall and wave off repeated inquiries about said bajillion dollars, and give excuses and place blame, and then say it's "only fair" to split the difference because I am leaving so soon, and offer me a "compromise".

I don't need to go into all the absolutely completely 100% valid reasons I am leaving – no one at work is the least bit surprised at my departure – and why under these circumstances, one year is more than reasonable. I won't list off all the lame excuses I've been given. Or point out the fact that it shouldn't be my problem that my higher-ups didn't have the balls to take this up with their higher-ups when they should have, and that had they sprouted cajones a year ago we would not be in this situation. I already went into all of this in the conversation I just had with one such cajone-less person.

This is not one of those gray situations that could be argued both ways. This was a deal. I am extremely disappointed at the type of firm this has turned out to be. This is no way to do business, especially for a very large, international law firm that is trying to build and grow in a market that it is clearly struggling in (this is not just me badmouthing the firm - this is me commenting on the heavy bleeding of associates coupled with lack of "good" - as in interesting, challenging - work).

Integrity could have been their one redeeming quality. But now, they're the kid who's not only ugly and stupid, but a bully too. And a booger-eater. Little fucker.



My newest silly, fluffy pleasure is the show Gossip Girl. I know, I know. I scoffed at it after watching the first episode... and then the second... and then the third. But I kept downloading, and watching, and wanting more! Despite the fact that anytime that Chuck Bass kid is on screen, which is a lot, all I can see are those ginormous nostrils of his and how you could probably fly a plane up one and down the other, and he'd just be like "Hey - where'd my boogers go?"

While I'm on the topic, I would also really like for him to wipe that I-think-I'm-hot-shit smirk off his face. And open his eyes a bit more (let's face it, guys can't rock the bedroom eyes). Oh, and STOP with the arrogant head-tilt. Good thing I don't know a Chuck Bass (anymore), I just might have to punch him.

And also? People who say they hate such-and-such tv show because "that is SO not how it really is", I just want to punch them, too. Normal people watch tv (and read books, etc) - other than the news and the Discovery channel - precisely to get away from how boring "how it really is" is.

My new lotion smells uh-MAY-zing. I can't stop sniffing myself. They call it 24-Hour Lasting Moisture. I call it Eau de Cookies, Sunshine and Heaven.

Bowling in Japan is pretty much the same as bowling in the U.S. I suck at both. But bowling SHOES, on the other hand - they are really freaking cute here. And, they reside at the bowling alley in these locker-looking containers, one "locker" per shoe size. You go to the appropriate locker, press a green button, and *ka-thunk* - out pops a pair of the cutest bowling shoes ever, like a vending machine.

Speaking of shoes, go ahead - tell me how hot and darling (yes, at the same time!) my new shoes are.



A couple weeks ago, I went home for several days. As usual and as expected, I loved all of it - the food, the family, the friends, and last but not least (and possibly even MOST - but don't tell my dad!) - watching Mochi get acquainted with her new platonic-live-in-boyfriend, Toki! Here is their story.

They sniffed:

They sized each other up:

They had a bite to eat:

They wrestled:

They got comfy:

They napped:

And - are you ready for this? Because it might be more cuteness than your heart can handle, and then it might explode, like mine did. They cuddled! With, I'm told, many (platonic! Mochi is NOT that kind of girl!) kisses.

Mochi is currently enjoying her life of leisure in California, and I am counting down the days until I get to see her again!



So there's a church in Kansas that believes that the war in Iraq is a punishment for America's tolerance of homosexuality. They spread their gospel by picketing military funerals with signs saying things like "Thank God for dead soldiers" and "God hates fags". The latter, cleverly, is their website address.

Dude. Really?

Let me try to follow the logic. Nation is too tolerant of homosexuality, as evidenced by our fearless leader (who thinks gay marriage will bring down the "most fundamental institution of civilation") and the 10 states (5, if only full recognition counts) that recognize gay marriage. Wrath of god brings George W. (god's henchman), Iraq war in tow. Ah-HA! *light bulb* U.S. military accepts gays in the service! As long as they don't know about it (they're just being coy - open and full acceptance would be way too obvious and the gig would be up). Ergo, each soldier death in Iraq is proof of god's disappointment. Clearly.




Happy Halloweenie!

Introducing P:

Sexy beast, no?

* Edit: sexy beast would like to point out that you aren't really getting the full effect of this costume - you're not seeing the mustache. Which was discarded because it didn't allow for alcohol consumption.


nerd alert

I am a word nerd, so this is totally up my alley! My determination to break level 45 (at 41 I reluctantly got back to work) has gotten us 890 grains of rice closer to ending world hunger.

I'd like to meet the genius who thought to include a vocabulary level rating. As much as I love the idea of feeding the world's hungry and all that (goes nicely with my
reusable grocery bags), I'll admit that my determination was fueled more by I WILL GET TO THE NEXT LEVEL DAMMIT! than by thoughts of actually ending world hunger. Though in my defense, the latter is what brought me to the site in the first place.

So I just read in the site's FAQs that it's rare for people to get above level 48. IT'S ON.


lost in translation

Can someone please tell me how to get the navbar thingbob at the top of the page to be in ENGLISH? It's fine when i'm logged in to blogger, as my blogger language setting is English. My Internet Options language is set to English. All other websites appear all in English (convincing the computer to not automatically default to the Japanese version of some websites is another problem for another day).

Everything is set to English! I am set to English!


*edit: Hallelujah, I've been touched by a miracle! After days of angrily glaring at the Japanese characters in the navbar thingbob (including earlier this morning), they have up and turned into English! *boggle*


coming soon!

(i know - the suspense is killing you)