Ramen

"Have you tried ramen?"

Images of PhDcomic strips with grad students hording packets of cheap instant noodles in their cupboards flash before my eyes.

"... no."

Somehow I didn't think that was the authentic deal.

"Well, I don't think you'll like it but ... it's something you should try."

Not the strongest of recommendations, I admit, but hey I'm game. Also, it turned out to be great. We went into a small cafe-sized place and were immediately confronted with a machine covered with buttons.

"The good thing about this," I was assured by my hosts. "Is that you don't need to speak Japanese to order."

True, but it does require you to have a certain nonchalance about what you'll be eating since I had no idea what any of the buttons said. I pushed a handful of coins into the machine, pressed a button and handed the resulting ticket to the waiter. The result was a steaming bowlful of noodles bathed in a broth with beef. It was very good and slurping is considered completely acceptable in Japan so eating it wasn't the usual headache such soups can be in the West. 

On the way back home I was almost mowed down by a pick-up truck which was reversing into the guest house drive. My frozen shock came not from the maneuver but from the vehicle informing me of its intent in a highly feminine voice somewhat at odds with the beefy worker behind the wheel.  

Hello, do you speak scribble?

"Eigo o hanashimasu ka?"
(Do you speak English?)

**blank look from innocent Japanese victim I've accosted**

Damn it, that sounded so much more fluent in my head. Well, if I start gabbling in English, they're likely to get the idea.

"I have no idea where I am. Seriously, completely lost. Am I even on this map I'm holding? Am I still in Japan? Yes, I must be because you look Japanese, but it's been hours since I've seen something familiar. Is there anything that resembles a Astronomical observatory around here?"

**Look of dawning comprehension appears on face of poor bystander. He looks at my map and points to a place about 5 inches off the side of it.**

"Arigatou!" I stammer and brace myself for a long walk.

Fortunately, where the USA has fire hydrants and the UK postboxes, Japan has drink vending machines. Hot or cold beverages in twenty different permutations, these machines are on every corner, complete with a recycling bin beside them for when you're done with the can. I revived on a mutant-sized can of Mountain Dew and trekked back home.

Upon arriving back at my desk, I discovered I'd been given a fan. It says "Truth" on it in Chinese characters.

How are you? Will you sign to that effect?

"Welcome to Tokyo!"

Excellent, I was desperate to stretch my legs.

"Please remain in your seats to allow the health inspectors to board."

You what? I guess in the wake of swine 'flu, Japan is being careful. I attempted to suppress images of probity-probes as men wearing surgical masks, robes and gloves starting strolling along the aisles of the plane. I tried hard not to sneeze. The passenger sitting next to me clearly had more of a guilty conscience however, and a conversation in rapid (although friendly) Japanese ensued and he was handed a thermometer. I confess that having your neighbour in the tin box that you've been sitting in for the last 13 hours admit illness that excites a response from people who look straight out of the movie "epidemic" does not make for entirely calm viewing. Fortunately, it appeared that his disease was not the disease they had been looking for and we signed health forms promising that we'd not had so much as a sniffle in the last few weeks. I now really needed to sneeze.

Japanese border control has nothing on America. Maybe they felt the health inspectors were enough to scare off future tourists. Everyone was friendly, they all spoke English and the only question I was asked at customs was how long was I staying for. I guess two large suitcases for one week would look a little odd passing through the 'nothing to declare' barrier... Nice, cheerful, calm. Okay, they win. I was freaked out.

To get out to where I was staying, I had to catch an express train into Tokyo, followed by a subway and then a bus. Probability of success? I was estimating about 2%. However, it honestly was the easiest thing in the world. The trains and buses all had electronic signs that told you in Japanese and English where the next stop was and the subways are colour coded.

Then I had dinner and discovered the restaurant had whole rack of different types of loose tea you could make up in your own individual tea pot. Also, that "はし (hashi)" means chopsticks. Hello Japan, we're rolling.

An ode to packing

Straight from the Alanis Morissette Lyric Generator. I think it's going to be a hit.

"I Think"

I think boxes are really a huge problem
I think duct tapes is too much on my mind
I think bubble wrap has got a lot to do with why the world sucks
But what can you do?

Like a cardboard rain, beating down on me
Like a a moving truck line, which won't let go of my brain
Like a cuboid ass, it is in my head
Blame it on packing
Blame it on packing
Blame it on packing

I think containers are gonna drive us all crazy
And breakables make me feel like a child
I think suitcases will eventually be the downfall of civilization
But what can you do?  I said what can you do?

Like a cardboard rain, beating down on me
Like a a moving truck line, which won't let go of my brain
Like a cuboid ass, it is in my head
Blame it on packing
Blame it on packing
Blame it on packing

Like a cardboard rain, beating down on me
Like a cuboid smile, cruel and cold
Like a moving truck's ass, it is in my head
Blame it on packing
Blame it on packing
Blame it on packing

I think my favourite line is "I think bubble wrap has got a lot to do with why the world sucks". Moving trucks arrive tomorrow. It's going to be a long night....

Car Tales

You step out of your car, swing the door shut and then hit the button on your key chain to hear the reassuring "beeb beeb" of the locks swinging into place. Perhaps you double click that same button to hear a long "baaarb" of the car double locking itself. You glance back. Windows shut, sun roof down. Safe as houses.

So how long do you reckon it'd take someone to break in? Well, okay, there's a limit to what protection you could have against a sledgehammer. But such devices are unwieldy, make more noise than your car alarm and tend to look a little ... well, it's hard to pretend you're using one to drop little 5 year old Susie off at school.

Supposing now that you're the one contemplating the sledge hammer. Or perhaps one of your friends has helpfully suggested it because you've just locked your keys inside the car. There they are, sparkling up at you from the passenger seat.

Fortunately for you, you have AAA cover and one call later and there's a rescue mission underway. A man in a truck finally shows up and you bite your finger nails anxiously. Will he need to tow it to a garage? Will the door need to be broken? Is knocking out the window really the only way?

Or will it take 5 seconds, leave the car completely undamaged and you feeling pleased the keys are in your hand but somewhat disturbed by exactly how easy that was?

Apparently the trick involves a tool that looks like a wire coat hanger and one that looks like trowel for setting tiles.

(For the record, it was not me who locked my self out of my vehicle. Nope, I was the one helpfully suggesting the sledgehammer). 

Firefox will tell you ALL what I'm doing

How are you reading this?

Oddly, I have no idea. You might be reading this post on my original blogger blog, girl & kat. Alternatively, this entry might have appeared on your facebook newsfeed as I set up my "notes" to grab new posts from blogger. Some of you may even be scanning through this on LiveJournal, which blogger excitedly emails when it accumulates a new entry. This revelation inevitably leads to the next question:

Why do you have three identical blogs?

See, I've been considering this all day and came to two profound conclusions: (1) This question has no sensible answer, (2) and yet ... I still need all three. I don't like the set-up of facebook's notes to use that as my only blog. Blogger is prettier, I had it first and anyway, that silhouette I drew is just plain cool. LiveJournal is a recent accumulation which I set up to twiddle with role playing. Since I had the account, it seemed silly not to put something up there. So I got blogger to send across the posts it had.

But it's still not enough.

One of the faintly dissatisfactory things about the above arrangement is that my post looses all its formatting and html links when it's emailed across to LJ. I can fix it quickly, but it does mean I have to log onto both blogger and LJ for the post to display nicely on both. This is clunky and really, I'm all about the one button click.

So hello from ScribeFire, a firefox add-on that allows you to edit multiple blogs at once. This should post to both LJ and blogger and keep all my formatting and add-ins. The only thing it doesn't do is allow me to select my LJ userpic but, meh, none of the other blog editors I procrastinated looking at researched did either.

In case any facebook or twitter users are reading this and smugly thinking, 'ah ha! At least she updates her status directly in our programs.' No, you're both wrong. I use firefox to update twitter that then updates my fb status. Hmm, now I think on it, I wonder if firefox can program for me to. How about packing?

Good grief, could such excessive electronic geekiness be topped?

Actually, yes, I suspect it could. I, at least, have to be at a computer. iPhone users, you know who you are...

Frost in May

It is a gorgeous mid-May morning. The sun sparkles off Jenny Lake in the Grand Tetons, reflecting the clear blue sky as temperatures soar into the 70s. Walkers in t-shirts amble off along the lake side's "must-do" walk, picnics in their backpacks.

I am:

(a) Sunbathing by the lake.
(b) Sauntering along the path, idly looking for the park's population of moose.
(c) Inching along a snow laden precipice a mile along said path, trying not to sink thigh deep into the snow drift.

... you only picked (c) because no one would make that up, didn't you?

It's the strangest thing. The snow falls so thick and deep in the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone that the resulting drifts take forever to melt. You start off strolling down a sun-baked trail, regretting not packing your flip flops, turn the corner and boom! You're scrambling over thickly compacted snow that stretches for miles. It's how I imagine riding on the Knight Bus must be like. I contemplated this as I inched along a single-person track along side a near-vertical drop to the gushing waterfalls below.

Despite the ... hellishly unnatural weather ... hydro-challenged nature of the walk, the view of the falls at the end of the trail was spectacular. I also saw a beaver, three marmots, a moose, ospreys and a bald eagle teaching its chick to fly. All of which, it must be said, handled the snow rather better than me. God bless all creatures... and indeed my sturdy water-proof walking boots.