My Day...etc.
The "I LOVE JAPAN" Part:
Today, I went to get the re-entry permit that I've been putting off getting ever since I bought my ticket to Guam. I'd heard that it would take about an hour, maybe 2, to get, and though my memory of applying for my last one 3 years ago didn't seem to match that, I went ahead and allowed myself the recommended time, just in case it proved to be true. So after taking a very crowded bus down from my house to the indicated stop, I did something I haven't done in a long while: walked around looking for a place I'd never been to with a map in my hand. (I know, sounds like the sort of thing I should be doing a lot of over here, but you'd be surprised.) After a few minutes, I was approached by a security guard (well...actually he was something more akin to a parking garage attendant with a police-y hat) who asked if he could help me find where I was going. A half a word later, I was on my way to the 4th floor of the building that I'd already been standing in front of.
I love Japan, 1.
The woman at the information desk of the small Immigration Office was already speaking to someone, so upon seeing me and a group of three Spanish-speaking foreigners waltz into the office, one of the guys working beyond the counter (get this) lifted one of the "counter closed" curtains on a neighboring station and came to assist us. That's right. A line of two was enough to prompt another employee to drop what he was doing and come serve customers that were not his allocated responsibility.
I love Japan, 2.
With only another half-word out to explain what I was there for, I was presented with the appropriate form and instructions to get my application into the appropriate box. They then gave me a little map and explained that I had to go and buy a proof-of-purchase stamp at the little shop around the corner. The quirk of this is a very common Japanese happenstance: often, when buying something that is not an in-store product, one must declare that one intends to pay for something at Point A, go elsewhere (Point B) to pay for it and receive proof of having paid for it, and then return to pick up the item at Point A thereafter.
Japan is weird.
On the other hand, when you are directed by a Japanese person to a shop, counter, or other such location "around the corner," what always strikes me as awesome is the fact that it's always around the corner, in the most literal sense of the word. And if it isn't? They tell you. That is, if the shop is actually a block away, the Japanese will be straight with you and say "you have to walk a bit." And they'll give you a map. Or draw one. Or even sometimes go with you. Imagine that.
I love Japan, 3.
By the time I returned from the shop around the corner, stamp in hand, approximately 5 minutes had passed. I walked back through the door to see my number ready and waiting at the counter where I'd turned in my application. I walked up carefully, thinking something must've been wrong, but when I handed the lady my number, she handed me (get this)...MY RE-ENTRY PERMIT. That's right. The stupid little sticker that was supposed to "take an hour, maybe 2" to process took all of FIVE MINUTES.
I love Japan, 4.
The "RESOLUTION" Part:
I was talking to a friend of mine a few weeks ago about her experience in Suriname on the Peace Corps. At one point, we got to talking about her experience going through chocolate withdrawal. (Seriously.) "After about 3 months, I would've done anything, ANYTHING for a chocolate bar," she told me, and the wild flash of memory in her eyes prompted me to believe her.
Last Sunday, I went to Osaka with some friends. (I swear, this is all related, so just bear with me here. ;) In the evening, we found ourselves walking around the underground "Gourmet Museum" looking for a cake shop. (It was, incidentally, that same friend who was leading the cake hunt, but for the purposes of this story, it could've been anybody.) We passed up at least a dozen restaurants and cake shops before we found the perfect one to suit a craving that had, by then, swept through the group and touched every member...every member, that is, but me.
I had gone that day from 9-5 without anything more than a single piece of toast in my stomach. When 5:00 rolled around, of course, we all stopped in a nice little Italian restaurant and had a good meal, but the deficiency of noms in my stomach still only felt half-accommodated, even a few hours later, standing in front of the cake shop. So, very clearly put: they wanted cake; I didn't. But I went in anyway. Why? Because I've gotten so lazy down here in Kyoto that I've stopped paying attention to what I want vs. what I need. So I ended up spending $7 on a piece of blueberry tart that I not only didn't want, but actually didn't really enjoy.
The next night, when I was sitting in front of my computer watching a movie, I helped myself to a cookie, and as it went down, I actually felt how much I REALLY DIDN'T WANT the sugar. So I grabbed a post-it, wrote "NO SUGAR TODAY." on it, stuck it to the wall over my bed, and went to sleep.
Yesterday, I succeeded in eating none, not a piece, of the hoard of goodies I keep in my room. And it was really not easy. Especially considering the fact that I was home for most of the day doing next to nothing (the reason for which is another story entirely). Those little, "I'll just have one, ONE and I'll be good. One, and I'll be set!" moments came in constant waves, and the only thing that got me through was the fact that I know myself too well to believe me when I promise "just one."
So what does this have to do with anything? Well, after leaving the Immigration Office, I found myself facing 2 choices: go home, or stay out. Going home would mean facing the cookie hoard that I 'm determined to avoid for at least one more day. But staying out would mean spending money, which is just another thing I REALLY DON'T NEED TO BE DOING RIGHT NOW, between my trip to Okinawa last week and my upcoming vacation to Guam.
The Kamogawa River runs near the Immigration Office. Today, its banks were lined with flocks (yes, flocks) of Japanese hawks, white egrets, ducks, and pigeons. It was snowing earlier, but hasn't really been very cold. In fact, the sun is out now, and if you look to the north, you can see the snow still falling up that way.
Translation? Perfect day for a walk. ^_^
(Also, the continuation of my self-imposed sugar boycott.)
(PS: I just want to make it clear that by "sugar boycott," I mean sugar snacks: cookies, chocolates, cakes, candies...that stuff. Starbucks is no man's land, so the iced chai latte sitting next to me doesn't count. ;)
The "SO WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!" Part:
Normally, I start my blog updates with this section, but isn't it nice to put it off 'till a little later in the post? :)
The first semester of my year at Ritsumeikan University has ended, as of about 2 weeks ago. Like JET, it's a little hard to answer the "how was it" question. I almost feel like I should log that away into the same awkward silence category as "say something in Japanese!" or "if you had a million dollars, what would you do?" Why? Because my academic experience and my social experience have been polar opposites of each other for the last 6 months.
Academically speaking, I hated 90% of the way they teach Japanese at Rits. Now, I realize that it's both harsh and a little risky for me to write that here, but it's also so absolutely true that I can't actually think of anyone whose face I wouldn't say it to. In fact, at the end-of-semester "consultation," where the teachers asked us in one-on-one interviews what we thought of the class, I had quite a bit to say.
What did I hate so much? Well, how about the fact that I had 3 different teachers for one class, who rotaed throughout the week? Or the fact that the way they taught us kanji, which was both my main reason for joining the program in the first place AND the only teaching method they all seemed to agree on, was to throw a new list at us with every chapter and command us to learn them all on our own before the test? Or the fact that the listening class they put me in was WAY below my level from start to finish? Or the teachers' ridiculous idea that it would be a good thing to break our class of 15 up into small groups almost every class and have us "discuss what we think" about the theme of the chapter, which was usually something stupid and pointless? Do I sound bitter? Well, I am, a little. If I'd had the chance, I sincerely think I would've withdrawn from the upcoming semester and just rejoined the workforce.
I am, of course, willing to entertain the idea that this could all just be me. Maybe I've just been in Japan too long now to settle for the half-assed methods some people can throw at the newbies and get away with because the newbies don't know any better. Maybe I've just been out there too long, and as much as I loved studying here before, I just can't go home again.
On the bright side (yes, there is a bright side, I promise), living as a student in Kyoto is like doing a social 180 from JET life. I've made lots of foreign friends down here and met lots of great people that I get to see all the time. It's enough, in fact, to preserve my faith in university students as a whole, and to let myself keep believing that there may be a place for me on a university factulty someday. God willing, that'll be the only way I'll have to teach again. *crosses fingers*
The "KYOTO" Part:
Life in Kyoto started out really great, and continues to be great in many respects. I still love that there's a supermarket right around the corner (right around the corner ;) from my apartment, and a convenience store right down the street. I love shopping in the Kawaramachi district, seeing temple after temple from the bus anywhere I go, and walking along the Kamogawa River. I love the traditional flare and friendly people and silly little over priced touristy souvenirs that I can look at now and know I totally don't need. It's a nice place to live, very convenient, and really a much smaller city than I'd originally thought.
...But I'll be damned if there isn't a part of me that really, really just wants to move to Tokyo (or at least Osaka) when the year ends. :-/
During the school year, there really isn't a whole lot to report (which, paired with the immediate updating power of Facebook, has led to my long, LONG silence from lj). Daily life is me waking up in the morning, going to one or two classes, then coming home or, on Thursdays, going to Starbucks and studying for 3 or 4 hours. Weekends are occasionally going out to eat, seeing some festival, shopping, or studying with friends. Monday, it starts all over again. After 3 months of that EXACT routine, without a single deviation (for lack of a SINGLE 3-DAY WEEKEND or extra day off), I was really worn out. When the winter break rolled around, I spent most of that week in bed, only actually leaving the apartment twice to buy food around the corner.
[OMG, slight digression: I. Make. The most AMAZING Irish stew. Taught myself how to do it on New Year's Eve. The thing took about 4 hours, and...wow. Yea. Just had to share. ;]
New Year's Eve was spent with one of my housemates watching Kohaku. Kohaku is an annual TV event for which a slew of famous Japanese bands and singers get filtered into girl vs. boy teams and sing against each other in an American Idol-y fashion (complete with viewer voting). It ran from 7-11:45, and it was really pleasant to just sit and watch with a friend as we gorged ourselves and mocked the fashion sense of some of Japan's most beloved idols. A little before midnight, it started to snow. The excitement may not have been in the same league as last year, when I was tromping through Chiang Mai, Thailand getting exotic ant bites and watching mysterious lanterns floating through the air, but it was still a great new year. :)
The "HOUSEMATES" Part:
So, I'm living in a guesthouse that has 7 rooms, plus a communal living area, kitchen, shower, and pair of toilets. Every morning, I get up and elect to pretend my bus pass doesn't exist until I have committed to walking the 15 minutes down the road to the bus stop that takes me directly to the school. When I go shopping, my bus pass comes back into play for the stop right outside my place. Also, as I said earlier, there's a supermarket very nearby, as well as 2 bakeries, a convenience store, a sushi restaurant, and a shopping mall. The rent is cheap, and the internet is wireless. Now and then, when I get a gossip update or spend a fun day with my classmate friends, I kinda wish I was living in one of the just-off-campus apartment buildings with them. Then I remember my housemate situation, and that feeling goes away. :)
My neighbor across the hall is an annoying, tactless Japanese man who relies almost entirely on stereotypes to make his decisions about what foreigners are like. He's a show-off, knocks on my door to ask me stupid questions, and has the irritating habit of humming to himself late in the PM. But his obnoxiousness is directly proportional to how awesome most of my other housemates have been.
When I first moved in, the other rooms of the house were filled with Swedish, French, and German tenants. The night I arrived, the Taiwanese girlfriend of one of them was making everybody gyoza and takoyaki. In the months that followed, we had cooking nights featuring Swedish meatballs (O...M...G. You have not LIVED until you have tried Swedish meatballs!), Taiwanese nabe (pronounced "nah-bay"), tacos, and...something-that-was-supposed-to-be-but-wasn't-quite crepes. We had a beer-drinking party in the dark on the roof that lasted 'till 2am, and many-a-game night where I pulled out my Wii and we whiled away the hours kicking the crap out of each other on Soul Calibur. We went on outings to Nara and had karaoke nights. I taught them sumi-e; they reminded me how much I hate (and thoroughly suck at) poker.
One by one, they all had to leave Kyoto. The French was replaced with the British, the German for the Japanese, the Swedish for Thai, and so it continues. Their rooms were filled with new tenants--some assholes, some awesome. And this, I think, is what really makes the guesthouse worthwhile. Living here is a constant reminder of all the people who come and go through this country. I get to hear and see what they think of things not only local, but global, and the value of that kind of exposure is truly priceless.
(Also, I don't have to worry about never hearing from them again, because Facebook takes care of the networking thing for all of us nowadays! ;)
The "LAST" Part:
Ok, I've been sitting in Starbucks for a few hours now writing this thing by hand. My chai latte has long-since been reduced to ice water, and the sun has set outside. Kyoto is beautiful at night, but at this time of year, it's rather cold to walk home alone, and I think I'd better get on my way.
In the coming weeks, my plans are to write, to visit Guam, to study, and to sleep...not necessarily in that order. I imagine that, before school starts up again in April, I should have time to report on Guam after I get back (I'll be there from Feb 14-20th, btw). There will be pictures, I imagine. Many, many pictures. Should be an adventure. But first, tonight, I must face a challenge closer to home...actually, at home. Wish me luck, everyone, for I go forth to resist the sweets hoard! >:|
Today, I went to get the re-entry permit that I've been putting off getting ever since I bought my ticket to Guam. I'd heard that it would take about an hour, maybe 2, to get, and though my memory of applying for my last one 3 years ago didn't seem to match that, I went ahead and allowed myself the recommended time, just in case it proved to be true. So after taking a very crowded bus down from my house to the indicated stop, I did something I haven't done in a long while: walked around looking for a place I'd never been to with a map in my hand. (I know, sounds like the sort of thing I should be doing a lot of over here, but you'd be surprised.) After a few minutes, I was approached by a security guard (well...actually he was something more akin to a parking garage attendant with a police-y hat) who asked if he could help me find where I was going. A half a word later, I was on my way to the 4th floor of the building that I'd already been standing in front of.
I love Japan, 1.
The woman at the information desk of the small Immigration Office was already speaking to someone, so upon seeing me and a group of three Spanish-speaking foreigners waltz into the office, one of the guys working beyond the counter (get this) lifted one of the "counter closed" curtains on a neighboring station and came to assist us. That's right. A line of two was enough to prompt another employee to drop what he was doing and come serve customers that were not his allocated responsibility.
I love Japan, 2.
With only another half-word out to explain what I was there for, I was presented with the appropriate form and instructions to get my application into the appropriate box. They then gave me a little map and explained that I had to go and buy a proof-of-purchase stamp at the little shop around the corner. The quirk of this is a very common Japanese happenstance: often, when buying something that is not an in-store product, one must declare that one intends to pay for something at Point A, go elsewhere (Point B) to pay for it and receive proof of having paid for it, and then return to pick up the item at Point A thereafter.
Japan is weird.
On the other hand, when you are directed by a Japanese person to a shop, counter, or other such location "around the corner," what always strikes me as awesome is the fact that it's always around the corner, in the most literal sense of the word. And if it isn't? They tell you. That is, if the shop is actually a block away, the Japanese will be straight with you and say "you have to walk a bit." And they'll give you a map. Or draw one. Or even sometimes go with you. Imagine that.
I love Japan, 3.
By the time I returned from the shop around the corner, stamp in hand, approximately 5 minutes had passed. I walked back through the door to see my number ready and waiting at the counter where I'd turned in my application. I walked up carefully, thinking something must've been wrong, but when I handed the lady my number, she handed me (get this)...MY RE-ENTRY PERMIT. That's right. The stupid little sticker that was supposed to "take an hour, maybe 2" to process took all of FIVE MINUTES.
I love Japan, 4.
The "RESOLUTION" Part:
I was talking to a friend of mine a few weeks ago about her experience in Suriname on the Peace Corps. At one point, we got to talking about her experience going through chocolate withdrawal. (Seriously.) "After about 3 months, I would've done anything, ANYTHING for a chocolate bar," she told me, and the wild flash of memory in her eyes prompted me to believe her.
Last Sunday, I went to Osaka with some friends. (I swear, this is all related, so just bear with me here. ;) In the evening, we found ourselves walking around the underground "Gourmet Museum" looking for a cake shop. (It was, incidentally, that same friend who was leading the cake hunt, but for the purposes of this story, it could've been anybody.) We passed up at least a dozen restaurants and cake shops before we found the perfect one to suit a craving that had, by then, swept through the group and touched every member...every member, that is, but me.
I had gone that day from 9-5 without anything more than a single piece of toast in my stomach. When 5:00 rolled around, of course, we all stopped in a nice little Italian restaurant and had a good meal, but the deficiency of noms in my stomach still only felt half-accommodated, even a few hours later, standing in front of the cake shop. So, very clearly put: they wanted cake; I didn't. But I went in anyway. Why? Because I've gotten so lazy down here in Kyoto that I've stopped paying attention to what I want vs. what I need. So I ended up spending $7 on a piece of blueberry tart that I not only didn't want, but actually didn't really enjoy.
The next night, when I was sitting in front of my computer watching a movie, I helped myself to a cookie, and as it went down, I actually felt how much I REALLY DIDN'T WANT the sugar. So I grabbed a post-it, wrote "NO SUGAR TODAY." on it, stuck it to the wall over my bed, and went to sleep.
Yesterday, I succeeded in eating none, not a piece, of the hoard of goodies I keep in my room. And it was really not easy. Especially considering the fact that I was home for most of the day doing next to nothing (the reason for which is another story entirely). Those little, "I'll just have one, ONE and I'll be good. One, and I'll be set!" moments came in constant waves, and the only thing that got me through was the fact that I know myself too well to believe me when I promise "just one."
So what does this have to do with anything? Well, after leaving the Immigration Office, I found myself facing 2 choices: go home, or stay out. Going home would mean facing the cookie hoard that I 'm determined to avoid for at least one more day. But staying out would mean spending money, which is just another thing I REALLY DON'T NEED TO BE DOING RIGHT NOW, between my trip to Okinawa last week and my upcoming vacation to Guam.
The Kamogawa River runs near the Immigration Office. Today, its banks were lined with flocks (yes, flocks) of Japanese hawks, white egrets, ducks, and pigeons. It was snowing earlier, but hasn't really been very cold. In fact, the sun is out now, and if you look to the north, you can see the snow still falling up that way.
Translation? Perfect day for a walk. ^_^
(Also, the continuation of my self-imposed sugar boycott.)
(PS: I just want to make it clear that by "sugar boycott," I mean sugar snacks: cookies, chocolates, cakes, candies...that stuff. Starbucks is no man's land, so the iced chai latte sitting next to me doesn't count. ;)
The "SO WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!" Part:
Normally, I start my blog updates with this section, but isn't it nice to put it off 'till a little later in the post? :)
The first semester of my year at Ritsumeikan University has ended, as of about 2 weeks ago. Like JET, it's a little hard to answer the "how was it" question. I almost feel like I should log that away into the same awkward silence category as "say something in Japanese!" or "if you had a million dollars, what would you do?" Why? Because my academic experience and my social experience have been polar opposites of each other for the last 6 months.
Academically speaking, I hated 90% of the way they teach Japanese at Rits. Now, I realize that it's both harsh and a little risky for me to write that here, but it's also so absolutely true that I can't actually think of anyone whose face I wouldn't say it to. In fact, at the end-of-semester "consultation," where the teachers asked us in one-on-one interviews what we thought of the class, I had quite a bit to say.
What did I hate so much? Well, how about the fact that I had 3 different teachers for one class, who rotaed throughout the week? Or the fact that the way they taught us kanji, which was both my main reason for joining the program in the first place AND the only teaching method they all seemed to agree on, was to throw a new list at us with every chapter and command us to learn them all on our own before the test? Or the fact that the listening class they put me in was WAY below my level from start to finish? Or the teachers' ridiculous idea that it would be a good thing to break our class of 15 up into small groups almost every class and have us "discuss what we think" about the theme of the chapter, which was usually something stupid and pointless? Do I sound bitter? Well, I am, a little. If I'd had the chance, I sincerely think I would've withdrawn from the upcoming semester and just rejoined the workforce.
I am, of course, willing to entertain the idea that this could all just be me. Maybe I've just been in Japan too long now to settle for the half-assed methods some people can throw at the newbies and get away with because the newbies don't know any better. Maybe I've just been out there too long, and as much as I loved studying here before, I just can't go home again.
On the bright side (yes, there is a bright side, I promise), living as a student in Kyoto is like doing a social 180 from JET life. I've made lots of foreign friends down here and met lots of great people that I get to see all the time. It's enough, in fact, to preserve my faith in university students as a whole, and to let myself keep believing that there may be a place for me on a university factulty someday. God willing, that'll be the only way I'll have to teach again. *crosses fingers*
The "KYOTO" Part:
Life in Kyoto started out really great, and continues to be great in many respects. I still love that there's a supermarket right around the corner (right around the corner ;) from my apartment, and a convenience store right down the street. I love shopping in the Kawaramachi district, seeing temple after temple from the bus anywhere I go, and walking along the Kamogawa River. I love the traditional flare and friendly people and silly little over priced touristy souvenirs that I can look at now and know I totally don't need. It's a nice place to live, very convenient, and really a much smaller city than I'd originally thought.
...But I'll be damned if there isn't a part of me that really, really just wants to move to Tokyo (or at least Osaka) when the year ends. :-/
During the school year, there really isn't a whole lot to report (which, paired with the immediate updating power of Facebook, has led to my long, LONG silence from lj). Daily life is me waking up in the morning, going to one or two classes, then coming home or, on Thursdays, going to Starbucks and studying for 3 or 4 hours. Weekends are occasionally going out to eat, seeing some festival, shopping, or studying with friends. Monday, it starts all over again. After 3 months of that EXACT routine, without a single deviation (for lack of a SINGLE 3-DAY WEEKEND or extra day off), I was really worn out. When the winter break rolled around, I spent most of that week in bed, only actually leaving the apartment twice to buy food around the corner.
[OMG, slight digression: I. Make. The most AMAZING Irish stew. Taught myself how to do it on New Year's Eve. The thing took about 4 hours, and...wow. Yea. Just had to share. ;]
New Year's Eve was spent with one of my housemates watching Kohaku. Kohaku is an annual TV event for which a slew of famous Japanese bands and singers get filtered into girl vs. boy teams and sing against each other in an American Idol-y fashion (complete with viewer voting). It ran from 7-11:45, and it was really pleasant to just sit and watch with a friend as we gorged ourselves and mocked the fashion sense of some of Japan's most beloved idols. A little before midnight, it started to snow. The excitement may not have been in the same league as last year, when I was tromping through Chiang Mai, Thailand getting exotic ant bites and watching mysterious lanterns floating through the air, but it was still a great new year. :)
The "HOUSEMATES" Part:
So, I'm living in a guesthouse that has 7 rooms, plus a communal living area, kitchen, shower, and pair of toilets. Every morning, I get up and elect to pretend my bus pass doesn't exist until I have committed to walking the 15 minutes down the road to the bus stop that takes me directly to the school. When I go shopping, my bus pass comes back into play for the stop right outside my place. Also, as I said earlier, there's a supermarket very nearby, as well as 2 bakeries, a convenience store, a sushi restaurant, and a shopping mall. The rent is cheap, and the internet is wireless. Now and then, when I get a gossip update or spend a fun day with my classmate friends, I kinda wish I was living in one of the just-off-campus apartment buildings with them. Then I remember my housemate situation, and that feeling goes away. :)
My neighbor across the hall is an annoying, tactless Japanese man who relies almost entirely on stereotypes to make his decisions about what foreigners are like. He's a show-off, knocks on my door to ask me stupid questions, and has the irritating habit of humming to himself late in the PM. But his obnoxiousness is directly proportional to how awesome most of my other housemates have been.
When I first moved in, the other rooms of the house were filled with Swedish, French, and German tenants. The night I arrived, the Taiwanese girlfriend of one of them was making everybody gyoza and takoyaki. In the months that followed, we had cooking nights featuring Swedish meatballs (O...M...G. You have not LIVED until you have tried Swedish meatballs!), Taiwanese nabe (pronounced "nah-bay"), tacos, and...something-that-was-supposed-to-be-but-wasn't-quite crepes. We had a beer-drinking party in the dark on the roof that lasted 'till 2am, and many-a-game night where I pulled out my Wii and we whiled away the hours kicking the crap out of each other on Soul Calibur. We went on outings to Nara and had karaoke nights. I taught them sumi-e; they reminded me how much I hate (and thoroughly suck at) poker.
One by one, they all had to leave Kyoto. The French was replaced with the British, the German for the Japanese, the Swedish for Thai, and so it continues. Their rooms were filled with new tenants--some assholes, some awesome. And this, I think, is what really makes the guesthouse worthwhile. Living here is a constant reminder of all the people who come and go through this country. I get to hear and see what they think of things not only local, but global, and the value of that kind of exposure is truly priceless.
(Also, I don't have to worry about never hearing from them again, because Facebook takes care of the networking thing for all of us nowadays! ;)
The "LAST" Part:
Ok, I've been sitting in Starbucks for a few hours now writing this thing by hand. My chai latte has long-since been reduced to ice water, and the sun has set outside. Kyoto is beautiful at night, but at this time of year, it's rather cold to walk home alone, and I think I'd better get on my way.
In the coming weeks, my plans are to write, to visit Guam, to study, and to sleep...not necessarily in that order. I imagine that, before school starts up again in April, I should have time to report on Guam after I get back (I'll be there from Feb 14-20th, btw). There will be pictures, I imagine. Many, many pictures. Should be an adventure. But first, tonight, I must face a challenge closer to home...actually, at home. Wish me luck, everyone, for I go forth to resist the sweets hoard! >:|