Post Haste

Three weeks ago, I visited my sister for her baby shower.  It was a lovely time had by all.  When I returned to Cville, I realized that I had left my keys under my sister's guest bed.

Now, the pre-Japan me would not have made such a mistake.  My mantra before leaving for any location was always, "Phone, wallet, keys."  Keys were valuable - I never left them behind.

In Japan, I didn't carry keys per se.  I had a wallet that allowed me to attach my two keys - apartment and lab - to two little chains that zipped up inside its main pocket.  It was quite convenient and so, in Japan, my mantra before leaving any place became, "Phone, wallet."  But since my phone was only operable as a clock and a camera, I often would get along just fine with "wallet".

You can imagine, then, how easy it was for me to make a mistake when I got home.  I put those keys under the bed, hoping to keep them out of the confusion that is helping Baby to get dressed and ended up leaving them behind, even though I checked the room at least twice.

As soon as I returned to Cville, I realized my mistake and called my sister.  She promised to send them right away.  "Will you be okay without your keys?"

"Sure," I said cheerfully.  "I can survive for a few days without them."

My sister went out the day after and sent out my keys.  A week and a half later, they got sent back to her.

She sent them out again.  Two days later, they were sent back to her again.

She sent them out a third time.  Third time's a charm, right? This time, the postman lost them in his effort to return them to her.  My sister had to go the post office and call them several times to track them down again.

When they finally got them officially sent off, it was Saturday afternoon.  When did I receive them?

Monday afternoon - the same afternoon that Hurricane Sandy hit the East Coast, the same afternoon that all of Cville shut down and boarded themselves in anticipation of the storm of the century.  Only one business day after they were sent.

It turns out, a person can survive without their keys for longer than a few days.  Well played, life.  Well played.

I also have another adventure to add to the other about my experiences with the postal system (although this is my first domestic mishap).

This picture was taken on my walk to work today.  A lot of the leaves were blown off by the storm.


In other news, I played this song on repeat yesterday although I don't know why.  I also can't figure out what the title or the song means.  Google translates it as "Woman Daejeon Small power"  by Evan Yo.  (I mean, who knew before this song that Daejeon actually means "Big (rice) field"?)

My thoughts about it:
(1) It sounds very "Chinese" in the melody and beat.
(2) How does Evan Yo looks the exact same as he did when he was 19?  (He's now 25)
(3) Evan Yo really reminds me of Atsuto Uchida.  It's as though one of my favorite soccer players can sing and dance.  Or is it as though one of my favorite singers can play soccer?
(4) The girl in the video panics over a cockroach.  Yesterday, I found a spider curled up in bed next to me and I didn't even flinch.  I simply shooed him away and went to sleep.
(5) Yeah, not understanding the title or main line of the song really does put a damper on what I can comment on.

And yet, I'm still playing it on repeat.  Is it addictive to anyone else?

My Pretty

Real conversation the other day with friends:

Friend 1: Hey, are you going to prepare for trick-or-treaters?
Me: I don't know; should I?  Do you think they'd come?
Friend 2: It's always good to be prepared so make sure you buy candy at least.
Friend 1: Yes, and be sure to put your porch light on.  And maybe, since you live in a basement apartment, you should put something Halloween-ey on your steps to lure children down to your door.
<pause>
Friend 1: You know, when you think about it, Halloween is a pretty creepy holiday.


Another thought: In the fairy tales, all the witches are shown as women who own lots of cats and lure children to their doors with promises of candy and cookies.

But you know what else that description perfectly fits?

Old maids.  Yep, that's right.  Old maids are notorious for getting a few cats themselves to keep themselves company.  And sometimes, yes, old maids even use sweets to bribe children.  (Let's be honest; parents sometimes use sweets to bribe their children)

Do you see the problem with this stereotype then? Do you realize how hard it is to get the kids at church to like me if their storybooks are telling them that I am the woman who wants to take them home and put them in my soup?

Maybe that would explain why the little girls in church today kept giving me strange looks.

Joy in the Morning

It's going to be a good day.  

I can just feel it.  

Indian Summer

Overheard today:
Person 1: You really can't beat this weather lately, right?
Person 2: Yes, it's just so beautiful.
Person 3: Isn't this what we would call an 'Indian summer'?

Turns out, the phrase "Indian summer" has been in usage for over two centuries in America but it's origin is unknown.  The earliest uses of it in writing treat is a commonly understood term.

When I was a young elementary school student, I remember using that term but I didn't really know what part of autumn it referred to.  In my elementary school head, I defined "Indian summer" as "that time of year when you have to wear sweaters and coats to walk to school in the morning and when you only need a short-sleeved shirt to walk home.

It's that time of year. Bring on the layers.


In other etymology, did you know that "jerry-rigged" and "jury-rigged" are words that sound similar but have completely opposite meaning?  Jerry-rigged means shoddy craftsmanship.  Jury-rigged means ingenious temporary fix.

Also, why are "farther" and "further" so hard to use properly?  Ever since I have started making an effort to use them correctly, I find myself choosing the wrong one, almost consistently.  Then today, I saw a Ford commercial and the tagline was "Ford: Go further."  My first thought was, "Shouldn't that be 'farther'"?


Also:
Coworker: I thought of you earlier.
Me: Really?  Why?
Coworker: Bob was telling some visitor about the jets on the scramjets and said they would allow us to travel to Japan in 45 minutes.
Me: Ah, yes, the connection to Japan.
Coworker: You mean, boyfriend in Japan.
Me: Hahaha.  That would definitely benefit an intercontinental relationship.
Coworker: "Honey, I'll be home in an hour.  Keep the sushi warm."
Another coworker: So, this is why you're in this field!
Me: Haha, yes!  Scramjet technology needs to happen NOW.


And to add to this random post, here is a video of me singing in Japanese.  Headlight as performed by Monkey Majik.

More of Autumn

Living in a basement has its downsides.  But one upside is this: whenever I leave my house in the morning, bracing myself for a cold day, I find, instead, a nice warm day awaiting me.  It's a welcome and pleasant surprise and good motivation to leave my cold apartment.

Stumble

Yesterday, I substituted as a visiting teacher for my new friend in my ward, who happens to be Japanese.  Last time, we visited her, she prayed in Japanese and so this time I asked her if she could teach me to pray in Japanese.  She brought me a sheet of phrases already printed out that she had previously used in some Japanese lessons for a church activity.  We quickly reviewed the grammar associated with the basic phrases.

Then...

VT companion: So, you're going to give the prayer in Japanese right?
Me: Wait, what?
VT companion: Sure!  Why not?
Me: <gulp>  I, uh, wanted to practice.  What if I did it next time?
Friend: That's ok too.
Me: <deep breath> Ok, I'll do it now.

Everyone bowed their heads and I started in on my first prayer in Japanese.  It was painfully slow and extremely hard (which thinking back, is pretty funny, considering that I was practically just reading from the paper in front of me) A number of times, I had to stop and ask my friend how to say something in Japanese.  At the end, everyone raised their heads.  My Japanese friend smiled at me and reached for a tissue and then wiped away tears that started streaming down her cheeks.  "Thank you," she said between her tears.  "That was a very powerful prayer."

When I took Welsh in college, I learned that even though Welsh people all spoke English (so much so that Welsh became a dead language although it is now reviving), when it came to religion, they preferred to hear and learn things in native Welsh.  They called it their "heart language".

I think things strike us deeper in our heart language than in other languages. Somehow, my stumbled little halting attempt in her language was enough to touch her heart in ways that fluent eloquence in mine never will.

Friday Fun

Can we get a hip-hip-hooray for cleaning out the wind tunnel on a Friday?  Yep, that's right.  I don't know if life gets better than spending a beautiful autumn day wearing a gas mask and getting myself covered in iodine while listening to One Ok Rock.

No, really, I'm being serious.  There's something satisfying about doing physical work.

Good thing I feel that way since I have an entire apartment in need of a good thorough cleaning.  While eating breakfast, I marveled that people live in houses and keep them clean.  So many rooms...

On another unrelated note, here are some pictures I took on the way in to work today.