This Week's Boring Surprise

AM

Least: At 10:37am, I once again found myself groaning at the thought of calling headquarters to learn of my shift for today. Although most Mondays usually ends in extreme boredem, there is always the chance of a horror shift with too many kids classes or an epic rail journey. Uncertainty is stressful, but it becomes boring very quickly despite the surprises.This week's boring surprise: Komyoike 3:45pm to 9:35pm.


Most:  Just after 5:24am, I unexpectedly got out of bed and took a whiff of the air outside to sample the weather. From our balcony I got a great view of the rising sun, which I thought appropriate given my current location. The sun dominated the urban sprawl and gave the usually boring concrete a pleasing orange glow. Next time I'll take a photo. Looking at todays astronomical forcasts I found that high noon with actually be at midday today and tomorrow's daylight will be two minutes shorter.

PM

Least: By 9:36pm, I was at the good end of a six hour stint underground. My tomb was also surrounded by a second-string shopping mall with muzak of muzak playing. It was like spending the afternoon in a cinema watching a movie about out-of-date wall postings. When I emerged from my burrow, the decaying concourse was dark and filled with dodgy looking loiterers.

Most: Sometime around 5:35pm, I began listening to the lamentations of a women in a loveless marriage. She had four teenage kids, a house deep in the country, a lazy spiteful husband and not many other options. Her marriage had been arranged and although she had serious doubts about her suitor, he and his mother, came to the woman's family home to ensure a yes vote. She enjoyed reading whilst lying on the floor, but lept to sit ladylike in a chair upon hearing her husband's footfalls. She said "I think he loves me". Interesting and very sad, and apparently not too uncommon.

The Perfect Peach?

AM

Least: Pretty close to 8:50am, I cut an equator around a too-large peach that I bought from a street seller a couple of days ago. Despite twisting firmly, the greenish flesh refused to part from the stone. The most disappointing aspect of this particular peach was that its complexion was perfect - not a scar nor a browning hollow - but its insides were watery and tart. The Japanese art of overpackaging is rife amongst supermarket fruits - particularly peaches. The foamish coverings give the impression that they are protecting something excellent, however it it merely make-up - mutton dressed as lamb. For a few thousand yen, you can buy your boss a box of twelve as part of the summer gifting process - I wouldn't bother.

Most: I rose this morning at about 8:20am with a strong urge to open Truman Capote's In Cold Blood and keep reading. There were simply not enough waking hours last night to complete it. The incredible clarity of the writing and the rhythm that switches between the victims and the criminals gives reading it movie like momentum. Over the years, I've picked the book up and never bothered to buy it, but the ten dollar Popular Penguin was too good an offer to refuse. I've no doubt that I will finish it by the end of PM tonight.

PM

Least: Sometime close to 4:00pm, the dread of going back to ECC drone-hood began bothering me. As dreads go, it's a pretty bland version - no preparation and not much mystery. In my attempt to make today drag on, I tried to make the least of my time today to little avail. I extended the cover of my sunburn through.


大きな地図で見る

Most: Just after 12:20pm, Rosie and I wheeled down to Namba for a bite. Instead of taking the increasingly uninteresting routes previously describe in this blog, we opted for some almost randomly chosen streets. Our bikes took us through the surprisingly hilly and windy area just north of Tezukayama and down through Tengachaya's less trafficked roads. What we saw was almost like another city with a completely different atmosphere. There were lots of people sitting around in the heat, old men wearing kimono-like duds, baffling small businesses, and the rubbery smell of bicycle recycling. For some reason it reminded us of Vietnam.

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Food note: At the Conveyor Sushi trough that we often haunt, a young girl and her Grandfather shared their sushi. As usual, the Grandfather spent much of his time scraping wasabi paste from otherwise delicious dishes. The most touching moment though, was when they shared a generous piece of whale bacon - the little girl ate the meat, the Grandfather chewed the fat. Nice.