I was never any good at keeping a journal, there were always massive gaps, and besides, living in a boarding house led to unreasonable levels of paranoia about secrets being leaked of who hated who or who kissed which boys at the Guilford Social. I've always been atrocious at doing things on time - assignments, articles, bills, hair appointments, rubbish collections, JPLT applications (the most recent example, and now, crying shame, I don't get to sit the Japanese Language Proficiency Exam), which more often than not leads to outrageous lies and bare-faced bluffing. Fortunately I don't get called out all that often, which, not only does it make me smug, but because I am one of those people who responds to guilt (yes, congratulations Mum), I then feel badly about taking advantage of the situation. Until the next time.
This is my final year in Japan. At the latest, I will be leaving this fine country on August 31st, 2008. I am aware, now, more than ever, of the things that I do that I will unlikely have the chance to repeat again. So once more, I will attempt to capture these experiences in words, and in words that will again trigger the nuances of this crazy Japanese life once I have left. These are the things that I fear I will forget and become lost, even though it is these small insignificances that seem to merely fill in the gaps between the crazy and the serene.
This means, dear reader, that I will be spewing forth blog posts about next to nothing, interspersed with a "I went here and it was marvellous, look at my photos". Which, granted, will be more entertaining than nothing at all. Welcome to yet further impossible juxtapositions, as I try to write more frequently without turning it into another late assignment.
Ono Matsuri 19 August 2007.
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