4 years

Yup, I'm shamelessly advertising that today is our 4 year anniversary. Just a couple of quick scanned pics to show you how happy we once were.....ha! Just kiddin'.

Every anniversary, Mike has made it our tradition to watch our wedding DVD that my cousin so generously put together for us. It covers just about everything during the ceremony and a little after as well. Coincidentally, it's also my parents anniversary, so April 26th has a lot of meaning to it. We aren't really planning on doing too much. Mike's going to take us out to a restaurant this weekend that he heard about. He and I are trying to explain to Josh about the significance of this day. He doesn't quite get it. He thinks that we are getting married... However, he really enjoys looking at our wedding pictures.

Several days before our wedding in the Sacramento Valley it had been raining and raining. We had some dear friends from the east coast come out to California (for the first time) and were greeted by rain storms. We were very fortunate, we chose to have the ceremony outside in my grandparents backyard. This is a backyard that was created specifically for wedding ceremonies (and has been rented out as such) complete with dual descending staircases. During that time my grandmother was religiously checking the weather reports. She warned the groomsmen that they may have to be moving furniture to the garage if we had to switch the ceremony to indoors. Folks were comforting me by saying, "Well, hon it's good luck in Chinese tradition if it rains on your wedding day." I who was in complete bridezilla mode, poo pooed that.

The night before, I completed fell apart into a puddle of mush and my maid of honor had to coddle me until I fell asleep. The morning of, we were awoken by the warm California sunshine... WHEW! I drove off to the salon to get primped and prepped. The rest of the pre-wedding stuff is a blur. I remember getting pictures and walking down the steps. Mike was shaking like a leaf during the vows and had to ask the dreaded, "Uh, can you repeat that?" to the justice of the peace.

The wedding was at around 11:00AM, and the reception was one that will go down in the history books. The location couldn't have been better, since there was no time limit on our reception. Our east coast friends stayed behind for a looooonnnng time (about 8:00PM which we wouldn't have had it any other way) and my grandparents ended up ordering pizza for us all.

It's gone by fast, but there have also been so many other things that have happened. My siblings are almost all grown up. The day of our wedding, my stepbrother was to be confirmed and he will now be enlisting in the Navy in a couple of months. My 2 youngest sisters (who were about 9 & 10 when we got married) are almost in high school. My maid of honor is now married with kids and almost all of Mike's groomsmen are married with kids as well.

Time really does fly when you're having fun.

The One that Got Away

This is a story about a boy who loves baseball and idolizes his father. It's also a story about a father who idolizes baseball and loves his son.

On a warm June morning in the early to mid 1980s, this particular boy was awoken by his father very early. It was to be a very busy day. First, a two hour drive from their home in Richmond, VA, up to the nation's capital, Washington, D.C. They were going to see a baseball game; but not just any game - the annual Old Timers' Classic game.

The ride from their home to RFK Stadium was fairly ordinary, but in the mind of an eager young baseball fan, excited to be going on a road trip with his dad, fairly ordinary was perfectly exciting. Upon entering the stadium, the boy's senses were in high alert. The smell of hot dogs and popcorn, the sound of the crowds and the Cracker Jack vendors, the taste of the "small" Coca-cola that the boy gripped with all his might for fear of spilling even the smallest drop; were just subtle reminders that the day was no ordinary day.

Prior to the onset of the game, the players' names were announced for the fans to enjoy and reminisce. At the time, the boy didn't recognize the names of Mickey Mantle, Joe DiMaggio, Hank Aaron, and Brooks Robinson; but he knew they must be pretty significant players if those thousands of excited spectators drove all that way to get a glimpse.

To warm up, some of the players began hitting balls over the fences to the fans beyond the outfield wall. After watching a few series of this unusual batting practice, the boy saw one high flying ball heading his way. Excited and a bit nervous, the boy just sat frozen watching the ball inch closer and closer. Just in the nick of time, a strong hand pulled the ball down from the boy's line of fire. From out of the eclipse of the hand, the boy noticed his dad's smiling face. His dad had caught the ball! Anxious to get a closer look, the boy pleaded with his father to let him hold onto it during the game. With a slight resistance in his voice, and a growing bruise in his catching hand, the father ultimately agreed.

Within minutes, triumph turned to tragedy. While observing, spinning, and lightly tossing the ball from hand to hand, the boy accidentally released the ball from his sweaty palms to the ground below. After just one lone bounce, the boy noticed another hand, an unfamiliar hand, grab the ball and pick it up. A stranger. A stranger no more than one row in front of the boy and his father.

The father asked the stranger for the ball back, explaining that his son had inadvertently dropped it while admiring the new treasure. The stranger, a cold and evil man, refused, saying something along the familiar lines of, "Finders keepers, losers weepers". And weeping doesn't begin to describe the next few hours. The boy, confused and angry at the stranger before him, began to cry desperately. In fact, and without exaggeration, the boy cried for the entire nine innings of the game. Everyone in the crowd around the boy and his father sympathized, except the evil stranger, who refused to even glance back their way after denying the boy the rights to his lost ball.

For the next twenty or so years, the boy continued to visit both major and minor league baseball stadiums, hoping for one more chance to catch "the ball that got away", to no avail. One time, he got close, getting his hand on a foul ball at Qualcomm Stadium in San Diego, former home of the Padres. But the ball hit his hand hard and then bounced off to an observant fan a few rows below. That ball hurt. First, it was hit hard and without much arc, so the smack on his hand left a throbbing bruise. Secondly, it made the boy aware of the pain his father must have experienced when catching that ill fated Old Timers' ball a few decades prior.

What became of the stranger in this story, well... no one knows. Eventually, I imagine he'll get some face-to-face time with his Maker and may have a little explaining to do about what compelled him to steal a ball from a little kid at that baseball game. But, until then, the old man may have very easily forgotten the entire event ever took place.

The boy's father still tells the story as if it happened yesterday; with clarity, humor, and a tone of fading (albeit slowly) resentment towards the old stranger a row down from them. The story is a legend - a modern day version of an old classic novel - except unlike Hemingway's uncatchable fish, the father tells the tale of "The Ball that Once Was".

The boy in the story has since grown up and become a man himself; and now has a son of his own. Just today, they went on a train ride to see their local minor league team, the Shonan Searex of Yokosuka, Japan. And today, the boy finally got a game ball. As the game-worn ball touched down in his hands, the boy immediately thought back to those decades ago at the Old Timers' game with his own father. And having learned his lesson years before, he tucked the ball immediately away into a backpack for safe keeping.

I mentioned at the beginning of this post that this story was about a boy who loves baseball and idolizes his father. And that it's also a story about a father who idolizes baseball and loves his son. Both of those guys are one and the same... me. But I also feel compelled to add one more. It's also a story of a grown man, who on one otherwise wonderful day was a very sad boy, and who now understands and appreciates what his dad went through on that day so many years ago.

Although the ball that I got tonight is no redemption for the one I let slip through my young little fingers more than twenty years ago, it did feel really good to finally leave the ballpark with one. Dad, out of respect for you and the story that has become a legend in our family, I did give the ball to Josh, just as you did for me, and you'll be happy to know that this one made its way home safely.

Harajuku

Once in a while, the daycare on the military base opens up on Saturdays to give parents a break for the day or evening. Mike and I decided to take advantage. We dropped Josh off at the CDC (Child Development Center) while we took a day trip up to Harajuku. I've been wanting to check out Harajuku for quite some time now, but we're always worried about lugging around a stroller and an impatient toddler in the middle of one of the trendiest areas in Tokyo. We found out today that Harajuku is fairly child-friendly. In fact, I think I may want to go back there on a weekday with Josh now that I know how to get there. I did do a lot of looking into Harajuku before going there.

I've discovered some very helpful websites along the way. Tokyo-Yokohama/Gourmet Navigator gave me some great ideas on places to eat that are Gaijin friendly. They have listings of restaurants in areas of Yokohama and Tokyo that have English translated menus and/or English speaking staff. The listings also included some organic options. I also stumbled upon an awesome blog that included some good links as far as shopping goes: Fashion is Spinach

Besides the fashion spinach site, she also has a Betsy Goes to China site. This woman has been all over Asia and, although it is very much fashion/chick writing, the pictures are very cool.

After checking out some sites, we stopped at Harvester for lunch. Although I had higher hopes for where we were going to stop for food, this ended up being really good. Harvester's specialty is its roasted chicken, which is excellent. Mike and I got chicken, fries and 2 Kirins for about 2000 yen. It's hard to miss right outside of Harajuku Station headed towards Omotesando.

After lunch we stopped at several famous tourist shops. Oriental Bazaar carries Yukatas, vintage obis, tea sets, fans, and other fun things to take back home after vacations. We also stepped into Kiddyland, which is a very fun 5 story toy shop, much like a Yoshida/Toy shop. Mike and I invested in a completely frivolous toy. It's a "Humping Dog" USB plug in, that basically looks like its name implies. It's a little beagle dog with an attached USB plug, and when you plug it in, it looks like it's, well... you get the picture!

As I've mentioned before I'm much more interested in current Japan rather than past Japan. There is something interesting about the Japanese pop-culture. Something that is very popular here in Japan and also in the States is LeSportSac. It's an American handbag company. They recently came out with a new Tokidoki print. Despite the name and looks, this design was actually created by an Italian designer. However, since I've set eyes on it, I was in love. The print that I wanted for a while had been discontinued and hard to come by. Well luckily for me, we found the bag that I wanted at the LeSportSac store in Harajuku. Am I a complete sucker for trends? Well, maybe, but this bag is REALLY so KAWAI!! I now have this Tokidoki bag that I can't keep my eyes off of. Mike even admitted that it is really cool and while coming home on the train he said there was a young Japanese woman that couldn't take her eyes off of the "LeSportSac" shopping bag that he was carrying (with the Tokidoki bag inside). LeSportSac seems to be much more popular here than in the States. However, I really appreciate the bold colorful prints. I usually where pretty basic shirts and pants so, it's nice to now have an accessory that kind of pops out.

Even if we hadn't found my "dream bag", this would have been an excellent afternoon. It's rare that us "country folk" from Yokosuka get a chance to visit the big city and do some people watching.

Phallus Parade

Spring has definitely sprung here in central Japan. The cherry blossoms (sakura) are out in full force, more and more women are wearing their traditional yukatas, and large pink penises have been spotted strolling through the streets of Kawasaki, Japan, just south of Tokyo.

This past Sunday, April 1, the people of Kawasaki and neighboring areas got together for the annual Kanamara Matsuri, or "Festival of the Steel Phallus" (click the link to read the history). And, like many other like-minded gaijin and Nihon-jin, we joined in the festivities. Our friend, Julie, was kind enough to watch Josh for the day while we hopped the train for the matsuri. A friend of ours from San Diego, Karthik, recently accepted a job here in Yokosuka, and he willingly accepted our invitation to join us at the festival.

I can honestly say, without a shadow of a doubt, that this festival was like nothing that I've ever seen before. Upon arrival, it didn't look much different than any other festival. When we first entered beneath the large torii gate at the front of the shrine, we were met by vendors selling all kinds of yummy foods, so we quickly grabbed some yaki-soba, some yakitori and some beer. After satisfying our hunger, we started to walk around and that's when it got... well... interesting.

The first thing we noticed was a group of people with large daikon radishes and large, sharp knives. We quickly realized that the knives were being used to carve "manly" shapes out of the daikons. Adjacent to the daikon shapers sat two 8 to 10 foot long wooden penises, which people proceeded to ride like mechanical bulls. Vendors in this area weren't selling lunch, they were selling handkerchiefs, tapestries, and artwork; all with sexual themes. One vendor was even selling hard candies (like lollipops), shaped to resemble the genitals of both men and women.

But around the final corner was the granddaddy of all sights... the large pink penis portable shrine (mikoshi). Actually, there were three portable shrines at the event, but the pink one really stood out in the crowd. As we arrived in this area, the shinto priests were starting their prayers in front of the mikoshis. After going through the traditions, the mikoshis were released from the resting points and carried through the streets of Kawasaki.

It was really great experiencing this matsuri. I was very surprised to see the number of children that were in attendance and participating, too. Typically, many Japanese people tend to be a little more reserved than Westerners (in my humble opinion). I've heard stories about how some Japanese have known people socially for years, but still do not call them "friend" or even hug them, etc. But at this event, people of all races, genders, and ages were hanging out together, laughing, and having a very merry time. Perhaps we all had a little spring fever, perhaps it was the subject matter of the festival... whatever it was, it was definitely priceless.

Our photos are posted in the Gallery, dated 04/06/2007. However, be forewarned that the events I described above are photographed in detail and some might find them to be "adult content".

Chick Entry

Just to warn readers, this is definitely a "chick" themed blog entry (unless you are a man and like to shop and cook... nothing is wrong with that let me emphasize).

Despite some of the raunchy customer service that I received during my month long stay in the States, I did get some serious shopping done. I got some nice black pants and several pairs of jeans. Because I was so tired of the customer service and not being able to get what I wanted, I went to the only place in America where customer service and awesome selection still exists, Nordstrom's. Yes, to many women, Nordstrom's is the shopping hub. I had gone to about 10-20 stores in search of some jeans that fit me right and honestly, I wasn't in the mood to settle for an "OK" pair of jeans. I wanted a pair of jeans that felt comfortable and looked great, and I was willing to pay for it. Some of our readers may also be readers of our favorite mommy blog, gingersmom. Several weeks ago, she wrote a little ditty on NYDJ (Not Your Daughters Jeans). I tried them on and fell in love. Every woman who is a mom and is tired of having muffin top needs to try a pair of these on. However, at $98 a pop I could only justify buying one pair. I did find a couple other brands that were lower in price and still didn't make my butt look like some sort of flattened bubble. Jag brand and the Nordstrom brand Caslon were great and cost a little less. My Caslon jeans only cost about $68.

As all men who are reading roll their eyes, let me continue... (I warned you guys). Besides, clothing, I also bought several food items that I couldn't find here. I was overjoyed to go into one store and see a whole quarter of an aisle dedicated to olives. I mailed food items back to our house and just received a box a couple days ago containing the Arborio rice I had purchased. I had never tried cooking Risotto before, so I was excited to try once I received the correct rice in the mail. In Nigella Lawson's, Nigella Bites cook book, she has a recipe for Lemon Risotto. After making it tonight, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. Let me assure readers that this is by no means health food, but man, this was some of the best comfort food I had ever had. Please click on my cooking site if you're interested in the recipe.

Now that I have the cooking and shopping through my system, let me talk about some of my culture shock experiences. There are the typical things that most people list about everything seeming bigger and farther apart in the States compared to Japan. The bigger part I expected but the farther apart aspect was a little surprising. Everything just seemed far away. I could no longer just walk to the grocery store but had to drive 10 minutes to get there. I felt closed up a lot of the time. Another difference was watching how parents hovered over their children. I understand that because of sicko weirdos, it's something that more folks need to do there but it seemed very extreme to me.

Knowing the language was both good and bad. I could navigate much easier being able to read and talk to people. But because I heard everything, I also noticed the bad. It seemed as though everyone had an opinion on how to raise children (and I'm not talking about comments that I received. Just in general). For instance, if a child fell on the playground, instead of the nearest parent trying to aid, many times they would shake their head and say to themselves, "why isn't their parent here?" It seemed like a sense of looking out for "number one" instead of the community as a whole.

I think what made the trip very good was just being able to be home. In my opinion, I don't think that I could ever stay in Japan forever because I would never feel at home. I would always feel like an outsider. Many westerners may disagree, but again just my opinion. It was the little things and big things alike that made it so enjoyable. The big was seeing family and friends that we hadn't seen in years. The little was being able to read the back of a cooking package, being able to talk to someone on the street, read the newspaper, oh yes, and the commercials!! I never thought I would enjoy commercials so much. There is so much to say and that is why I think that it will be coming in little spurts along the way. I say again, stay tuned.