Reading Rainbow

I've self-tagged myself after reading D's book post.

Here are the rules:
Go to your nearest bookshelf. On the top shelf (or highest shelf with books) what book is fifth from the right and why did you love it? Now go to the bottom shelf (or lowest shelf with books). Tell us about the fifth book from the left.

Kanji Starter
by Daiki Kusuya
I think this is the first book I ever bought to help me try and understand Japanese. It's small and easy to understand. Each page has one or two kanji and takes it from the picture the kanji represents to the Chinese character. It's good for visual learners, and flipping through it once or twice helped me recognize a bunch of kanji. The drawback is it doesn't really help you memorize how to say each kanji in Japanese, even though it's written below the English. It's good if you wanna learn 山　equals "mountain" and simple stuff like that.

My Voice Is Sexy When You Close Your Eyes or, Whatever Happened To That Guy Kevin!?
by Kelly Froh
This was a bonus insert in Kelly's mini-comic Slither #5. I've read a bunch of her stuff and I recommend it highly. She's been kind enough to send her comics to me with the promise that one day I'll send her mine(...). This particular story is about this guy she meets on the internet, and I guess in the days before one knew any better, agrees to meet him after only seeing a tiny 72 dpi thumbnail photo. Classic coming-of-age story in the days where social networking was too (you know, 2005).
I found it hilarious and relatable, way too honest and embarrassing, which how I like me comic.

Obviously, as was done before me, I'm not tagging anyone, cause people hate that shit.

Ahem

I have many posts to write. But with the heat and my supreme laziness, I have put blogging at the bottom of my "to do." Of course, at the top was beating the New Super Mario on my DS. Which I did. Checku! チェく！ And then I have 30 reports to write (tonight) and Japanese to study, tickets to book, and comics to draw...

There are more funny dentist stories to tell, like the nazi women dentist I had today who resented that I existed. I thought I was getting a teeth cleaning but got my tooth gouged out with the loudest drill ever and replaced with ill-fitting plaster that hurts when I chew. (Last appointment next week!) I didnt eat before I went so afterward I was starving and went to Ganesh to get some curry. It looked like I was a stroke victim, because I managed "futatsu kudasai" when the nazi was drugging me, I could hardly get anything to stay in my mouth.

Ok, ok, ok, but the point of this post is to say "I love Prozacville. He is the coolest blogger ever. I am kind of in love with him and I'm sure we'll make babies one day (as soon as our therapists give the OK)."

For my birthday he sent me a copy of "Should You Be Laughing at This?" by Hugleikur Dagsson, which was hilarious, and one of the best comics I've read in a while. The night I read it I actually got off my ass and started drawings something. I always appreciate when someone helps that happen.

A dirty birthday card was also in the package. It now hangs on my wall and greets all who enter my home.

ありがとうごじましたプロザク！

Birthday Thanks Updated:

P-ville demanded I praise his genius use of a post box, and now there has been an uproar by other folk who sent me amazing birthday packages. First of all, Lauren, who sent me all the shit I ordered off the internet plus delicious birthday treats (and The New Super Mario Brothers DS game, without which this week wouldve not exsisted); My Mom and sister, for sending me the DS and other things; my Grampa, for depositing money into my bank account; Jon, for the vegan food (beef-flavored broth, nutritional yeast, curry, poutine packets, and the finest assortment of chip flavors Quebec has to offer) and the really cool comic book. And everyone who gave me real-life gifts and reads my blog and becomes jealous, thank you. Without all of you and your generosity, I probably would have just offed myself this year.

The Haircut

Sunday I went to Yamaguchi City for the first time. That's right, CAPITAL CITY. I met up with Naomi to do some feminine things that included haircuts. This was my first haircut in Japan. Back home Liz cut my hair, so during the last seven months my hair grew into something that needed constant tying up. And brushing. Ug.

So of course when we got there there was paperwork to fill out. I wrote my name in Katakana in public for the first time, but made Naomi fill out the form telling my age, address, phone number, blood type, etc. After we filled out the forms my hairdresser squatted in front of us and started asking Naomi what I want. We kind of discussed it in the car, but of course I didnt really know. Then there was coloring, I also didnt know what color I wanted. I didnt just want BLACK, because it's summer and blah blah. So there were some concepts I didnt understand, the word "line" thrown out a lot, and me describing what "blending" meant to everyone.

I was led to the chair, and other than the fact I was paying a bunch of money for all this, didnt really care what he did to me. So he gently ran his fingers through my hair a few times, then we headed over for a shampoo. He put a towel on my lap and my face. This shampoo took about 10 minutes. He treated my hair like it was made of cotton candy and he didnt want to break it.

Then the cut began. Or, cut number one. Since we couldnt talk I kept feeling like he was looking at my facial expressions to see if he was doing it right. Then he blew dried my hair. And the coloring began. A nervous little Japanese hipster came over and put "ear caps" on me. But he did it in a way to avoid touching my hair or body. Then he brought me a soda.

So they slapped on some color and waited. Wrapped me in super Japanese saran wrap and waited. Then, the hairdresser brought me over a Japanese copy of "Where's Waldo?" because I looked bored.

My favorite book.

I found Waldo, or Wally 「ワーリー」 on every page. Then there was some more color and touching. Then, a girl came over and led me back to the sink. She shampooed me again. She used three different liquids and gave me a scalp massage. I started falling asleep and I think I made a little pleasure-induced grunt at one point.

Then she brought me back to my chair and started talking to Naomi about me. I understood a little. Kinda. It's easy to know when someone's talking about you, and of course she's asking where I'm from, what I do. Naomi told her I speak a little Japanese (I understood when they said that) so she turned to me, opened her mouth really wide and asked, "NI-HON WAA SUKIII DESU KAAA?" I quietly replied, "hai." I was kind of taken aback. Id never heard a Japanese person talk that loudly.

It was funny to be on the other end of that "if I talk louder maybe they'll understand."

Then she blew dried my hair for twenty minutes. Then, the hairdresser came back and cut more. He cut my hair one-at-a-time. I swear. Then the girl came back and styled my hair. THEN, he came back and cut even more, and restyled it. Im not sure how many times this happened. I dozed off. He asked me in English, "Are-you-tired?" He speaks!

Then I was done, they returned my personal possessions from lock-up, and I had to sit and wait for Naomi's (even slower) process to finish.

In all, it took three hours.

At the end Naomi's hairdresser kept saying "I-solly." And they bowed us to our car.

I really like the cut and color, though.

(I just took that photo after my nap)

Desperate Plea

Help!

As some of you may know, two months ago I packed it all up and moved to lovely Kudamatsu, Japan. As soon as I started to settle in here, the company I worked for went bankrupt. Having no money or options I've decided to stay put and squat in my apartment until I am forcibly removed.

So, here I am. Broke, no internet (this post is being brought to you by a telepathic Jesus, he owed me one), no television, no newspapers, no books.

I have a wall. That I stare at.

And all the shitty comics I draw.

Dont get me wrong, some days I do have great adventures here. Like visiting a shrine with a strange man I met at a yatai, trying to get a DVD rental card, going to dozens and dozens of 'Goodbye' parties, watching little men prune trees, practicing touching, getting punched in the arm by a bartender, photographing worm fights. Im suprised Ive had so much fun on so little yen.


So in conclusion, what I am asking is... will someone, for the love of god, send me a book!?!?

It's a book-a-thon! I am your local librarian, collecting for the needy. Comic books, mini-comics, exciting fiction, non-fiction, VCR manuals, anything that has to do with space, black holes,　the historical archeology of New England, art history, contemporary art history, any kind of history, biographies, books about Mexico (or how to get there from here), old textbooks... I'll reading fucking Mein Kempf if you send it. My mind is getting all gooey and I need some thoughts that dont have to do with me to start pumping through it.

Send me your favorite book, one that blew your mind and changed your life. And come February 10th I'll send it back. Or I'll send you someone else's.

(Nothing recommended by Oprah, religious, or about Japan, please.)

Thank you. I love you.

And do it quick! I move in about a month.

We're in love now. Cant you tell?

(email me for my address)