tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25988562940523155962012-01-11T21:42:18.496+09:00Emilynoreply@blogger.comBlogger3961100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-81123146795359758792012-01-11T21:39:00.000+09:002012-01-11T21:42:18.508+09:00

New single, “Kawatta Katachi no Ishi” out today! This is an interesting version with the backup instrumentals removed: 変わったかたちの石 歌詞 翻訳 英語 When did I pick up This odd shaped stone From the river of the village Where I was born? I put it beneath my window, And just left it. When asked, "What's with that?" I'd answer, "No reason." And yet We are washed away

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-88013856793731728652012-01-09T15:06:00.001+09:002012-01-09T15:06:51.645+09:00

I adore this shrine. If I had my way, I’d visit every week, and it was one of the main reasons I wanted to bring my mother to Kyoto. This is one of those thousand-word pictures. My camera has an “identify the face” function which comes in handy, but here I was more interesting in the headless statue of a fox. But my camera refused to focus on it. It

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-60371004515010363992012-01-09T14:20:00.001+09:002012-01-09T15:33:36.280+09:00

The real draw of Toji for me is the antique market held on the grounds the 21st of every month.

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-39588301579609623782012-01-08T21:52:00.000+09:002012-01-08T21:53:48.095+09:00

Tofuku-ji is a temple that makes me go “awww” right from the start. Its name is a portmanteau - or “name-squish” as my not-so-inner-fan-girl would say – of Todai-ji and Kofuku-ji in Nara.

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-60979240321413252422012-01-08T20:58:00.000+09:002012-01-08T22:33:46.211+09:00

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-6416084135269368402012-01-07T10:29:00.000+09:002012-01-07T10:30:07.026+09:00

There are lots of ways to visit places in Japan, and I’ve tried most of them at one time or another. From having a strict schedule and sticking to it to getting blissfully lost and happening upon secret gardens. And then there’s Otagi Nenbutsu-ji, where I tried to go every time I visited Kyoto for the past four years and never managed to find it. Every time I tried, I got one of the following

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-32483234547446482172012-01-07T09:00:00.001+09:002012-01-07T09:02:10.312+09:00

  “YOU. SHALL NOT. PASS.”

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-11430835748442242342011-12-04T17:28:00.001+09:002011-12-04T17:28:52.902+09:00

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-26243365790001745662011-11-14T21:51:00.000+09:002011-11-14T21:52:14.830+09:00

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-60999193768181693382011-11-12T20:20:00.001+09:002011-11-12T20:20:45.144+09:00

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-56699845774297383452011-11-03T18:49:00.001+09:002011-11-03T18:49:59.877+09:00

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-1104539499644308682011-10-21T23:55:00.000+09:002011-10-21T23:56:29.100+09:00

 

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-84765271740051271292011-10-01T21:52:00.001+09:002011-10-01T21:52:43.531+09:00

I recommend sticking around to hear this priest’s very lively speech:  I’m imagining some dramatic pigeon-mafia story going on here:

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-60550855821201108652011-09-23T17:28:00.000+09:002011-09-23T17:29:04.656+09:00

Here’s an inspiring story where individuals with autism find careers that are suited to their personalities. The company “nurtures these skills while forgiving the quirks that can make adults with autism unemployable: social awkwardness, poor eye contact, being easily overwhelmed.” “Traits that make great software testers — intense focus, comfort with repetition, memory for detail — also happen

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-75803019267325676052011-09-16T22:15:00.000+09:002011-09-16T22:29:33.803+09:00

In which the deer are cute but evil, Mama is covetous of brooms, I am covetous of rooftiles, and Buddah is bigger than the both of us.

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-72007572556106222312011-09-09T22:06:00.001+09:002011-09-09T22:06:33.552+09:00

In which I am a harsh tour guide, Heijo Palace is huge, lanterns are beautiful, and turtles and cormorants are smug:

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-24935536965009252392011-08-31T21:53:00.000+09:002011-08-31T21:54:28.712+09:00

At my mother’s request, this is a Highlights post of her summer visit, as a placeholder until I manage to make proper posts with all the rest of my pictures. Be warned, I got a new camera at the start of the summer, so there will be many.   First of all, we had a few days in the area where I live, checking out events such as the Tsunabi, or rope fireworks: and visited local artists such

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-64442262238534545002011-08-01T18:49:00.000+09:002011-08-01T18:50:18.870+09:00

A lesbian couple saved about forty people from the Norway shooting.   A kitten crawling inside a train caused huge delays.   An extremely narrow house is being planned in Poland.   This site (in Japanese, sorry) shows you what the weather was like for every day since 1961.   And various China news stories found lately: an Ikea rip-off, beauty products from dead prisoners,

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-60801975778002846442011-07-28T16:48:00.001+09:002011-07-28T16:48:35.629+09:00

I love Angela Aki for many reasons, not the least of which is because she speaks fluent English. Japanese music likes to throw random English words and phrases into their lyrics with little concern for actual pronunciation or sense. So it’s thrilling to listen to someone who actually can appreciate how powerful it is to properly combine two languages. I’m a long way from bilingual but already I

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-66357045830198860962011-07-24T13:33:00.001+09:002011-07-24T13:33:52.769+09:00

The sky of this island where I was born, I wonder how well I know it. The glittering stars, the flowing clouds, If I'm asked their names, I don't know. But more than anyone, more than anyone I know that in times of sorrow and joy, This is the sky I would look up to Over and over again. I don't know things that are only written in textbooks. The important things

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-17724644456088985912011-07-22T21:57:00.002+09:002011-07-24T13:34:28.932+09:00

なだそうそう 歌詞 英語 翻訳While turning the pages of an old album, I murmured, "Thank you." Year in and year out, I hold in my heart The person who encouraged me.On clear days and rainy alike, That smile comes to my mind. The memory is distant and faded, But on days I recall and search for traces, The tears flow.Praying on the first star Has become my habit.

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-53133980690094020742011-07-18T17:07:00.001+09:002011-07-18T17:07:51.486+09:00

The title refers to radio playlists, and songs played excessively in a day due to their popularity – like most of AKB48’s. 歌詞 英語 翻訳 I want you! I need you! I love you! The music that keeps playing inside my head in heavy rotation. Like popcorn bursting open, I scribble the words, "I like you" Your face and your voice, I can't contain my feelings anymore. If you say

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-69429750100275841482011-07-16T11:14:00.000+09:002011-07-16T11:15:31.663+09:00

宙船 歌詞 翻訳 英語 Row that boat forward, Row it with your own hands. Don’t give up the oars to those Who will rejoice when you’re gone. Where is that ship floating to now? Where does it keep dragging itself? When the water flows against it, The ship is challenged - the ship is damaged. All of the sailors are fleeing in terror, but Row that boat forward, Row it

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-47914082691114036902011-07-15T16:41:00.000+09:002011-07-16T16:41:28.761+09:00

本日未熟者 歌詞 英語 翻訳 Struggling and squirming - a day passes. Shouting and grumbling - a day passes. Disobeying and defying - a day passes. Struck and broken - a day passes. If I understand vaguely, Somehow I'm drawn down into temptation. If I refuse, turning over my palm, My enemy increases. And thus I am searching uncertainly for a kind person. Do I have

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-41549638921701890722011-07-09T08:55:00.000+09:002011-07-09T19:07:10.554+09:00

手紙 〜拝啓 十五の君へ〜 アンジェラ・アキ 歌詞 英語 翻訳 Dear you, The one who is reading this letter, I wonder what you're doing and where. For the fifteen-year-old me, There are seeds of pain I can't tell anyone. If I write a letter addressed to my future self, Surely I can speak my mind honestly. Now, I feel like I'm going to lose, Like I'm going to cry, like I'm going to disappear.

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-22815929820005157012011-07-02T17:01:00.001+09:002011-07-02T17:01:39.502+09:00

As the second-years are studying the “(person) calls (person/thing) (name)” format, we are teaching them about nicknames. I’m sure you can already guess, the results are hilarious since English nicknames are nonsensical even to native speakers. I remember being hugely confused in the third grade by a teacher, first name of Margaret, referring to herself as Peggy. As Flight of the Conchords would

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-35260840445542148352011-06-28T20:06:00.000+09:002011-06-28T20:08:28.944+09:00

In Japanese class the other day I had an example essay to read and answer questions about with the topic of “what is your purpose in life.” This is either very timely – as it’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately – or not timely at all – as it’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about for most of my life. And when I think about something a lot I mean it in the “sometimes I forget to

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-44063306785828466612011-06-19T07:45:00.000+09:002011-06-19T17:11:19.587+09:00

Three months later, there’s been an incredible amount of cleanup.   Even some of the giant boats that seemed impossible to move will be put back into use.   But as the hot weather increases and the rainy season arrives, it’s only going to get worse before it gets better.   And it begins: suicides resulting from the earthquake.

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-40004053392554665372011-06-15T07:47:00.000+09:002011-06-15T07:51:46.543+09:00

I have been spending all my free time lately being utterly charmed by White Collar. The fact that all the main actors are such pleasant people in interviews and despite their fame, manage to have really sweet family lives, only speeds the growth of this warm fuzzy feeling. You know you’re getting broody when that’s your criteria for celebrity crushes; are they cute with their kids? (Although now

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-65175832520274613562011-06-11T00:35:00.000+09:002011-06-11T00:37:07.295+09:00

I like to think of myself as being subtle and tasteful and other “ull” words, but sometimes I am just as susceptible(!) to blatant emotional(!!) manipulation as the next person. Especially in the area of TV programs, where my intellect drops to the lowest common denominator and I become notoriously easy to please (my goodness, I went through a Highlander phase, it doesn’t get much more shameful(!

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-24840310514517404382011-06-04T06:15:00.002+09:002011-06-04T13:57:04.467+09:00

Anonymous bloggers reveal bizarre some rules at their workplace. The earthquake shifted Japan so far that towns are now flooded at high tide. 20 things about Japanese men that mystify Japanese women And vice versa This day’s A Softer World strip is perfect. And Dr. Kevorkian has died...

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-33890730936251950892011-05-31T22:23:00.000+09:002011-05-31T22:27:46.581+09:00

After I’d acquired an interest in all things Japanese and before I actually came to the country, I would jump at the chance to get my hands on anything with a hint of it. Which is why I picked up “The Remains of the Day” by Kazuo Ishiguro. I soon realized that despite his name, he hasn’t lived in Japan since he was a child and is for all intents and purposes a British writer. Remains is even

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-45653479389340989502011-05-28T21:05:00.000+09:002011-05-28T21:06:05.200+09:00

I don’t think it’s the best idea to listen to what other people say about a country without a pinch of salt. Well, that could be said about anything – and I don’t just think so because I love salt and think therefore EVERYTHING should be taken with a pinch of it from media to medicine. There is a long list of “Things I heard about Japan before I came that I haven’t found to be true at all” and an

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-35481473247770141452011-05-21T13:09:00.002+09:002011-05-21T13:18:03.006+09:00

This song was written for me. I believe that quite firmly and literally.アンジェラ　アキ　エミリー　歌詞　英語　翻訳 Emily, purity is just a thing you will lose someday. It can't be recovered, so don't blame yourself. Some days not even the happiness of others will please you. Don't become trapped in self-loathing because of that. When kindness corners you, Your heart will fall down, down, down. Emily,

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-28765345094457089352011-05-18T18:27:00.000+09:002011-05-18T18:28:31.852+09:00

小坂明子 あなた 歌詞 英語 翻訳 If I should build a house, It'd be a small house. There'd be a big window and a small door, And a room with an old fireplace, Red roses and white pansies, A puppy and beside it - you, you, I want you there. That's my dream. My beloved you, Where are you now? Spread out on a blue carpet, A life full of fun and laughter

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-66581950472846469202011-05-17T18:13:00.000+09:002011-05-17T18:14:55.843+09:00

So last month I posted Flight of the Conchords performing “I’m not Crying” but it wasn’t until this month that I realized there is more where that comes from and, in fact, they actually have their own TV show. It’s like a New Zealand version of Mitchell and Webb’s Peep Show, except minus the most humiliating humor and plus randomly bursting into song. Which equals awesome. The duo consists of

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-68444662065606779982011-05-16T20:30:00.001+09:002011-06-03T07:37:24.528+09:00

Shirota Yuu, the half-Spanish actor I had an enormous crush on when I first came to Japan, is finally making his debut as a pop singer. Personally I prefer him in musical theater roles – he just seems to be perfectly suited for it, and when I saw him in Elizabeth it was as though all other actors were unnecessary. His voice in pop music just sounds like every other J-pop singer, redundant and a

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-55282133926497753622011-05-13T21:26:00.001+09:002011-05-14T16:43:17.284+09:00

One of the Japanese phrases that always strikes me as extremely apt is –gari, which indicates the hunting or gathering of something. It can be affixed to a variety of things that can be harvested: usagigari is rabbit-hunting, ichigogari is strawberry-picking, and so on. It seems to sum up the rather innocent point of view to food here. In English terms, hunting small animals is inherently violent

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-65098598229752057422011-05-05T12:12:00.002+09:002011-05-06T20:46:41.683+09:00

I went to see the final installment in the SP franchise yesterday. It was a tv show in late 2007, followed by a special episode and two films (or two films divided in two, I don’t know the difference). Though it’s commonly referred to by the simple initials SP (security police) the full title in Japanese is a mouthful: Keishicho keibibu keigoka daiyon-gakari - Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-1483779567049541612011-05-04T11:16:00.003+09:002011-05-04T12:35:43.419+09:00

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on. Because there’s always a random piano outdoors when you need one. But that aside… there’s not a single thing I can complain about in this scene. On a related note, the fictional Dalton Academy Warblers are actually performed (except for the lead vocal which, of course, is fandom's beloved Darren Criss) by

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-33829954192984478252011-04-30T23:15:00.001+09:002011-04-30T23:18:30.624+09:00

It’s a bit late to post this, as the cherry blossom season has pretty much wrapped up here. However, I just remembered today that I’d started to try translating this short story a couple of years ago. It caught my attention because it has one of the best opening lines ever. I quickly gave up in frustration because my comprehension level was still too low. It’s extremely rewarding to have tangible

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-12401198850917768872011-04-29T16:22:00.002+09:002011-04-30T16:27:26.235+09:00

Someone tears this body to pieces again. Located in the dead center of a dark forest, I am heading for the lake. I should still be on time. My heartbeat confirms it. How long? It's as though I lost consciousness. Beside the stillness, I am aware of sorrow flowing. I look for the source. Honestly, I'm weak. I'm still a tender color. I won't let you say I'm to blame.

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-37182293926696792702011-04-26T17:42:00.004+09:002011-04-26T17:59:18.632+09:00

Back then, we were always Running after something. Everything was filled with radiance. We were troubled and lost our way. This world is next door to paradise. Touch it with a fingertip and the wind slips through. Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Fantastipo, Painfully beautiful, A blooming flower that has never been seen. Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Fantastipo, Even

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-80628013285138288412011-04-25T18:01:00.001+09:002011-04-26T17:45:10.597+09:00

One of the members of the popular 1970s girl group Candies, Yoshiko Tanaka, died the other day of cancer. D: I like the group’s songs because they seem to come from some distant, more naïve time period: The First Storm of Spring The snow melts and becomes a flowing river. The rushes appear and start to sway Hey, it will be spring soon. Can’t you start to feel it? The breezes blow in,

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-25747725535476944372011-04-24T12:10:00.001+09:002011-05-04T12:20:36.345+09:00

That night, Yamato couldn’t sleep. Yuuri’s hand had been cold? Impossible... Images from the day he had met Yuuri until now flashed through his head. At a time when everything in Less-Than city had taken Yamato aback, Yuuri had been the boss. Having the only gun, she’d been in control. But Yuuri hadn’t been doing it only for herself. She’d used the deliveries she took to take care of the

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-1663893621825151312011-04-23T12:16:00.000+09:002011-04-24T12:16:53.043+09:00

It is my opinion that if you did a survey of the country most likely to commit cannibalism under the right circumstances, Japan would be at the top of the list. Now, I’m not saying that like it’s a bad thing, as though they have less respect for human dignity or more deviant appetites than any other country. I just think they have an incredible level of culinary curiosity and creativity, so that

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-43345627075277283612011-04-22T12:15:00.004+09:002011-04-25T19:11:42.315+09:00

The lovely thing about having a favorite artist with a birthday less than two weeks before your own, is that when he releases a new single on his special day it’s like it’s really a present especially for you. Lovely images from his hometown, Nara, as expected of the honorary cultural ambassador. Also, check out the hypnotic revamp of his website, and click on profile for another view of this

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-70256806639281874912011-04-21T12:14:00.000+09:002011-04-24T12:14:58.861+09:00

I like the sort of teachers who are able to tease their students, just a little. That sounds slightly cruel, but I mean the certain gentle, fond kind that’s impossible to explain but is unmistakable in action. And also universal – I adored the teachers who could do it to me through elementary, even in high school. They’re the ones I’ve stayed in contact with, the ones who – to be a total cliché –

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-69750677263042892972011-04-18T12:02:00.001+09:002011-04-23T00:05:30.132+09:00

This has nothing to do with Japan, and everything to do with all of my other interests. I’m currently watching my way through the filmography of Jesse Eisenberg – yes, even the ones with zombies and werewolves and marijuana users. The following interview demonstrates all the self-effacing humor, endearing awkwardness, and sheer intelligence that is at the heart of why I adore him:   “Clearly I

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-76568478808069882622011-04-04T15:09:00.001+09:002011-04-04T15:09:27.023+09:00

“I’m Making a Lasagna… for One.”

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-75963174951997371542011-04-03T20:32:00.000+09:002011-04-03T20:33:05.471+09:00

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-36108645691811827162011-04-02T19:56:00.005+09:002011-05-17T19:10:06.742+09:00

桜の栞-AKB48 As much as I mock AKB48, I do like this song. The soft breezes of spring Blow from somewhere, Changing the colors Of this path we often traveled. This is the season When both joy and sorrow pass by, As we begin to walk On a new road. The cherry blossom Is the bookmark of our farewell. Our friends’ faces as they wave Rise in our minds.

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-68742921709152893432011-04-01T21:57:00.001+09:002011-04-01T21:57:48.480+09:00

If I were only allowed to ever read from one genre of books again in my life, I would most likely choose fantasy. It’s the one that’s my automatic response when people make me select one, though honestly I’m more fond of specific authors or series than the vast umbrella coverage of an entire genre. But I’m willing to admit there is at least one element of fantasy that make it more likely to catch

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-61457176997315111462011-03-27T19:03:00.000+09:002011-03-28T14:22:46.612+09:00

I like music with a story, songs where the lyrics carry as much weight as the music, artists who don’t care if each album is accessible to new listeners because they have an over-arching vision like a secret love-letter to their long-time fans, who don’t care about being confined by rules of genre. Janelle Monáe is all that and more. From Kansas, at less than a year younger than me, her albums

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-71354820846861423782011-03-26T13:42:00.000+09:002011-03-27T19:14:05.110+09:00

Oh, Japanese TV. I can’t tell if the current program is a regularly scheduled one or an emergency, how-to-survive-disaster one. Two comedians enter a convenience store with two girl-group members. The latter pick out several items, and claim they are going to make lasagna. Their “ingredients” include: Hamburger bread: a flat roll with a whole patty baked into the middle. They detach the two

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-53753793898170478262011-03-19T19:37:00.000+09:002011-03-19T19:38:09.439+09:00

Japanese TV recently featured a robot that looked exactly like its creator: poke… poke… poke… The effect is like that of a man and his not-too-bright twin brother.   Another version: I like the “bored to death” face A lot of people think it’s creepy, but I find it rather adorable.

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-72803234103780720542011-03-17T22:06:00.001+09:002011-03-17T22:08:30.617+09:00

Considering the pros and cons of being an immigrant to Japan, it’s interesting to see how other countries are handling my peers.   Expats in Italy are required to prove basic language skills for their work visa. I would think it’s common sense to want to learn the language of the country you’re living in, and to respect the right of said country to verify that you have said skills. If Japan

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-85022087646832717022011-03-15T21:49:00.000+09:002011-03-15T21:53:33.914+09:00

Today is the third year anniversary of the day I came to Japan, though it’s hardly a time to be celebrating. I’m surprised to hear the discussion among other expatriates regarding whether or not they will leave the country. I am equally boggled to have friends and family at home ask me if I won’t do the same. I can vaguely understand their impulse – here there is disaster upon disaster,

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-76369382940317071942011-03-13T09:48:00.001+09:002011-03-13T09:48:14.145+09:00

I took the day off on Friday, March 11th, because I had to file an income tax return at the City Hall. More on that later, as it was an endeavor I’ve been dreading for months and it figures as soon as it was over with I’d have to have something else to panic about. Around noon I was walking between a road full of speeding trucks and a sharp drop into a muddy rice field, on a crumbling verge

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-61811746766660605492011-03-10T20:19:00.001+09:002011-03-10T20:19:25.615+09:00

Mika, on the other hand, I already like, so a capella covers of him are just frosting on the cake. “Why don’t you like me without making me try?”   The original, for the sake of reference: “How can I help it? How can I help it? How can I help what you think?” There are days when I listen to that because it’s just the sort of refrain I need to hear sometimes.

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-74431677944645520442011-03-05T18:20:00.000+09:002011-03-05T18:36:44.843+09:00

Like a lot of people, I have mixed feelings about Lady Gaga. Namely, the music is catchy but the lyrics are stupid, the videos are too sexual for my tastes but with an occasional pretty image - but University of Oregon’s a cappella group On the Rocks doing a cover of her Bad Romance? Is nothing but awesome. “I want your horror, I want your design.”

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-2932556404376012192011-03-04T19:54:00.001+09:002011-03-04T19:54:09.450+09:00

More Japanese men turn to homemaking.   Japanese take open-ended vacations overseas.   Number of people dying alone rises.

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-10200637977527633572011-02-19T21:14:00.000+09:002011-02-19T21:15:10.170+09:00

Correcting the short essay portion of tests is always slightly surreal. There invariably is a student who answers, “I’m fine thank you and you” no matter what the question is, as perhaps the only thing they are confident that they remember how to spell. This time, the question was, “What do you want to become?” and amid answers to do with the usual athletes, singers and policemen, there was the

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-80516023573712157652011-02-15T20:41:00.001+09:002011-02-15T20:41:47.804+09:00

I originally translated this for yesterday’s post, but then I ran it through my “ordinary-person” mental filter (Yes, I have one. Don’t most people? I would assume not, but then how do they act like it? I may not use it often – I may not even realize I need to use it which of course is the point – but if I can get just a hint of a niggle that “this is not-good” then I can try to stop, figure out

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-38465659574853078942011-02-14T18:43:00.001+09:002011-02-14T18:43:12.555+09:00

I seemed to have developed a tradition of translating a love song on Valentine’s Day. Well, I’m not sure if this is romantic, exactly, but it is hopeful and cheerful which in my world might as well be the same thing.   Someday the world we share will become irreplaceable. I promise now, with these hands I will support you until that is achieved. With strength, I am going. You

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-80748105953884209542011-02-12T21:58:00.000+09:002011-02-12T22:03:09.631+09:00

It’s strange the things one has to come to a foreign country to discover about one’s homeland. Thanks to the “Morning 10 Movie Festival" sponsored by Toho Cinemas, both foreigners and Japanese alike have the opportunity to watch cinematic classics from America, Europe, and more. Last year I got to see two of my favorites, The Great Escape and Laurence of Arabia in the big screen manner that they

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-69444669507091965102011-02-06T16:00:00.000+09:002011-02-06T16:01:44.350+09:00

If you ask me, harps are a greatly under-appreciated instrument in the world of modern music. It’s mainly found in classical, folk, or New-Age, and on the rare occasions when it’s in something more mainstream, it’s as a gimmick, briefly brought out for effect or affect – the Beatles’ “She’s Leaving Home” or the Cowsills’ Flower Girl song. So you can imagine my delight to discover Florence Welch

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-86240508610391638982011-02-05T13:27:00.000+09:002011-02-06T11:10:19.651+09:00

I came across the group the Noisettes lately, and liked their creativity and catchiness. We know we shouldn't do it, but we do it anyway   I’m fascinated by the small instrument the man is playing – it seems to be a pentatonic harp, and I’m kind of lusting after its tiny-compactness, after years of carrying around various harps that make my shoulders hurt. He gave me a penny for my

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-25549275066082115042011-02-03T21:08:00.001+09:002011-02-03T21:08:52.729+09:00

I love collecting Japanese idioms – you know the sort. At first you hear or read them and think, that’s ridiculous, but then you realize how exactly apt they are. How they plant the image in your mind even if you’ve never heard them before.   “He would fly away if you blew on him.” Someone inconsequential. “He’s no ordinary mouse.” Appearances are deceiving, someone you shouldn’t let down your

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-48390780730025807262011-02-01T22:06:00.000+09:002011-02-01T22:07:03.840+09:00

I went to see the Space Battleship Yamato movie this weekend. While I didn’t grow up on the original cartoon the way many Japanese did, I have had a fair amount of vague exposure. I can, for instance, hum the theme song. And as the live-action preview has been playing before every movie I’ve seen the past few months, I was pretty exited to see it. Thank you… Goodbye. I hope it gets released

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-60751817651938712282011-01-24T18:09:00.000+09:002011-01-24T18:10:44.965+09:00

First of all, to those reading Our Courage, I’m really sorry it’s taking so long! I meant to have it finished by the end of December, but was busy what with travelling home for the holidays. But don’t worry, I’m still working on it and we only have two chapters + a handful of pages to go.   Second of all, today is my one-thousandth day in Japan! I encountered the same problem counting this as I

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-34135724459580495242011-01-06T11:47:00.005+09:002011-02-08T22:42:31.140+09:00

In a corner of the marketplace, a banner had been hung with "Makuhara Area Temporary Government" spray-painted on it. Since they sucked at kanji, "temporary" was written in hiragana, but Makoto and Akira still looked at the banner with satisfaction. About twenty young people sat on the ground, and Takeru spoke to them with a calm expression. "Now the first meeting of the Makuhara Area Temporary

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-579200642378134342010-12-13T19:34:00.000+09:002010-12-13T19:35:09.904+09:00

Are you in the holiday mood yet? Hey, I’m in a country where their idea of Christmas dinner is Kentucky Fried Chicken – if I can work myself up to it then anyone can. I’m sure anyone who has had a pet and a tree can identify with this… Watch all the Simon’s Cat videos, actually, if you have free time – they’re all adorable. There’s also this one: I’m torn between wanting a white Christmas,

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-76331009474928628082010-12-12T21:51:00.000+09:002010-12-12T21:52:25.006+09:00

A long, long time ago, I was hired and scheduled to come over with the conversation school, Nova, but it went up in a big ball of flames a couple of months before my shipping date. I found my current company, and often feel lucky that I did since I love the actual school atmosphere so much more than that of a conversation school, I expect. I still keep tabs on my there-but-for-the-grace-of-god,

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-33643180812976563082010-12-06T20:47:00.002+09:002010-12-06T20:49:15.927+09:00

I’ve been doing a lot of reading the past few months, what with getting a Kindle and taking a slow train across the country over the summer and then with my computer breaking down so that I had a lonely internet-less couple of weeks. I decided I ought to put my Comparative Literature degree to good use by reviewing some of them, especially ones I felt strongly about (either positively or

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-30968939385730577792010-12-05T21:15:00.001+09:002010-12-19T23:36:56.507+09:00

“Welcome! It’s fine to look at anything, looking is free.” Makoto, Akira and Kiichi were hawking items in the marketplace. But Makoto was the only one with enthusiasm. The other two were entirely listless. Not to mention the three had been there since the morning but hadn’t sold a thing. It was only to be expected - among the goods they’d laid out, there was a broken globe, a broken desk

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-73866821747025111262010-12-04T23:24:00.001+09:002010-12-04T23:24:47.010+09:00

  Robert Webb has collected some theories of what makes people happiest. I approve of the poetry ÷ pee idea, at least at my current age. Writing a love poem to someone after you’ve only dated them a few weeks is doomed to fail, right? Well, unless you’re really lucky: “It kind of worked.” You married her, I’d call that definitely worked.   Also, some David Mitchell quotes, because really: "

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-88228029807602472762010-11-30T21:35:00.000+09:002010-12-03T21:36:29.415+09:00

So translating the novel was, as some of you know, my project for National Novel Writing Month, the challenge of which is to write 50,000 words of a novel in the month of November but which I reinterpreted as a translation, rather. Reader, I reached 50,219 on November 29th. I feel quite accomplished about that. But don’t worry, I’m not going to stop translating just because the primary goal

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-5368209871622888112010-11-29T19:41:00.000+09:002010-11-29T19:42:40.823+09:00

(Translator’s Note: In the novel so far, Yuuri has been disguising herself as a boy, both in her clothes and in her manner of speaking. Japanese doesn’t really use “he” and “she” the way English does – it might use “that person” in conversation, though usually it drops the pronoun altogether. Anyway, I’ve been being lazy so far and just translated all references to Yuuri as “she” regardless of

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-30323146441450231222010-11-28T18:31:00.001+09:002010-11-28T18:31:16.044+09:00

“Sorry I scared you.” They were in the village’s police box. Yamato sat in front of a heater burning bright red. It’d been impossible to resist, since a physical struggle was what he had to avoid. “There’s a young escaped prisoner carrying a gun, I got the message from headquarters.” As he spoke, the kind policeman went into the kitchen to make a nighttime meal. “What are you doing, dry

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-17648171023597656652010-11-27T18:32:00.000+09:002010-11-27T18:33:39.163+09:00

At the same time, Yamato had finally swum up to an ocean-side park. A group of out-of-season surfers, perhaps the same age as him, carried their boards while chatting cheerfully. Looking at their happy figures, Yamato took off the guard’s uniform and tossed it in a garbage can. He’d somehow made it ashore. Now all he had to do was buy some medicine and get  it back to Kiichi in Makuhara.

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-90127092187698599482010-11-25T19:21:00.000+09:002010-11-25T19:22:09.411+09:00

In the marketplace the next morning, after the delivery had finished without incident, the guards started to withdraw. A boy came up pulling a cart with a huge box on it - it was Mori. “What?” asked a guard, and Mori lifted the lid of the box. “The guy from yesterday. He died. So here.” Indeed, there was a body inside the box, wearing camouflage and with a gasmask covering the face.

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-53348226497520690122010-11-24T17:14:00.001+09:002010-11-24T17:14:52.402+09:00

The next day in the marketplace, Yamato approached the guard intently, without a moment’s hesitation. Unable to look at the suffering Kiichi, he’d spent the night wandering around Makuhara looking for medicine or alcohol. In the end he’d found nothing. “Why haven’t you brought any medicine?” Even though he’d asked only yesterday, the guard raised his gun at Yamato’s threatening attitude. But

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-42463089688992547462010-11-23T21:40:00.001+09:002010-11-27T20:22:12.060+09:00

Taking a break from the novel to recommend something to everyone.I grew up on a lot of British Comedy, the likes of Monty Python, Blackadder, Fry and Laurie. I used to have entire scenes from Red Dwarf memorized and would reel them off, much to the annoyance of everyone around me. Lately, of course, I’ve been watching nothing much but Japanese comedy, with the Daily Show and Colbert Report thrown

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-86539290207979828682010-11-22T23:39:00.001+09:002010-11-24T16:17:00.293+09:00

“Medicine?” It was time for the daily delivery. Yamato approached one of the guards. “How many times do I have to ask?” Kiichi’s injury was getting worse and worse. It wouldn’t heal. Yamato and Takeru had moved into the gym the night before, and had been unable to sleep nursing him through a high temperature. “There’s someone with an injury in here,” Yamato protested, stepping

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-24122801362870874052010-11-21T23:59:00.000+09:002010-11-26T18:11:58.915+09:00

Ryuu’s hideout. There was an atmosphere of irritable restlessness, and a stench of naked hatred and violence everywhere. Under the gang’s eyes brimming with hostility, Yuuri entered purposefully with Takeru gripping a steel pipe. Mori was in here... based on that information, the two of them had come. “Hey, this is dangerous. Shouldn’t we go back?” Takeru said in a small voice. The boys

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-83979750911652276142010-11-20T20:33:00.000+09:002010-11-21T00:34:00.638+09:00

The rain had stopped without them noticing. Kiichi was so exhausted he easily fell asleep. Yamato was making a barricade in the entrance of the gym. ...Those guys were definitely not going to get a hold of Kiichi again. He realized Makoto and Akira were standing before his eyes. For an instant, his body jerked away. But the two didn’t look like they were about to attack. Makoto said,

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-22539352627706282612010-11-19T11:21:00.000+09:002010-11-20T04:24:31.832+09:00

Back at the gym, Yamato desperately tended to Kiichi. He’d cleaned and wrapped his injury with a piece of cloth he’d gotten from Takeru’s stuff. He needed to bind up Kiichi’s thigh and stop the bleeding. All he’d said to Takeru was that Kiichi had been hurt. He didn’t want to worry him too much. ...Sorry, Takeru. We can have a long conversation later. Finally, despite the vague first-aid,

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-39248027135037660212010-11-18T21:50:00.000+09:002010-11-18T21:51:25.292+09:00

At the same time, Mori was hiding. He definitely didn’t want Ryuu and his gang to catch him. they were scary - nothing but scary. “Hiding’s no good.” Mori turned, startled. It was Kaoru. Mori’s body shook without thinking. But Kaoru looked the same as when they’d first met, the friendly eyes. “Running away is no good. Once they’ve got their eyes on you, no matter how many times you run

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-49013603311451435122010-11-17T21:47:00.001+09:002010-11-17T21:47:29.551+09:00

Yamato desperately pounded on the gate. “Open up! Someone’s injured!” Kiichi lay unconscious on the road. A pool of blood spread around him... “The bleeding won’t stop! Help him!” It seemed the injury was reported to Shibazaki. From the speakers could be heard the same solemn voice as always. “A medical unit will now enter. This is to help your injured friend. Uninvolved people,

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-8461053060222356002010-11-16T19:38:00.001+09:002010-11-16T19:38:57.829+09:00

“No wonder Yuuri got mad,” Kiichi muttered without looking up, sitting in the corner of the gym where he’d made a nest. He was writing something on a piece of wood with a magic marker. “I really don’t understand why,” said Yamato with a worried expression. “But Yuuri’s the same, and doesn’t understand why you say the things you do.” “I wonder...” Yamato shook his head. “But now that we

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-55575292436116225232010-11-14T22:03:00.000+09:002010-11-14T22:04:04.584+09:00

Winter had come to Makuhara. A chilly wind was blowing into Yamato and Takeru’s tent again tonight. Takeru wrapped himself up in every blanket he owned, but he still couldn’t stop shivering. Yamato huddled down in his sleeping bag like it was a cocoon. But it was still C-O-L-D. “We don’t have any disposable pocket heaters, do we?” Yamato finally asked, defeated. “None! And you know that

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-35216685112723291542010-11-13T23:44:00.000+09:002010-11-14T00:14:26.720+09:00

Something strange was taking place in the marketplace. One of the robberies that controlled the marketplace had begun. A group of boys lined up brandishing sticks. Beating up anyone, taking anything, the younger children could do nothing to resist. Watching this sad scene silently, biting her lip, was Yuuri. Out of the blue, a stone hit her shoulder. When she turned, there were a group

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-42421236247597560212010-11-11T22:08:00.001+09:002010-11-11T22:08:28.446+09:00

The next morning, while Takeru was brushing his teeth, Yuuri ran up with a strange expression. “Jogging? You’ve got a good pace going,” Takeru said lightly, but her pale face was serious. “Where’s Yamato?” “Oh, he’s gone to get food, since he’s the leader now.” As soon as she heard this, Yuuri started rummaging through Yamato’s bag. “What? What are you doing?” “My gun’s gone.”

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-32125325894976834522010-11-10T23:50:00.000+09:002010-11-10T23:51:47.189+09:00

Takeru and Yamato sat on the school’s front steps, watching the kids playing basketball. “Since when are you a teacher?” Yamato asked nastily. “Since when did you decide it’s better for everyone to play around outside?” Takeru protested. Yamato continued with an ‘of-course’ tone, “Isn’t it good if we just let them play?” “I can get them to study, or are you saying it’s better that they

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-27121085531232236292010-11-09T21:04:00.001+09:002010-11-09T21:04:24.389+09:00

With the chalk in one hand, Takeru faced the blackboard as he lectured. “Taiyo went to the mountain to gather acorns with his friends.” In the deserted school, in an empty classroom, about ten kids had gathered. Mori was among them. Takeru had forcibly brought them here and started an arithmetics class. “All together they gathered 84 acorns. There are seven friends. If they get along well

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-76096761775587553932010-11-08T20:11:00.000+09:002010-11-08T20:12:39.189+09:00

Night came. But Yamato wasn’t tired enough to sleep for some reason. Lots of things had happened today... but they’d been nothing but happy. Repairing his friendship with Kiichi, trading the car for the shoes, playing basketball with everyone... He was still filled with that pleasant excitement. Takeru was tossing and turning. “You can’t sleep?” Yamato asked. “I am sleeping.” “You

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-21149417525120099812010-11-07T23:29:00.000+09:002010-11-07T23:29:59.059+09:00

Early the next morning. In the morning mist, Takeru and Mori were waiting for the gate to open. “What’s his name?” Takeru asked, looking at Mori’s dog. “Riki.” “Did you name him?” “My sister did.” The night before, Takeru had attached a letter to Riki’s collar. It only had a few lines of necessary information. “Mori lives. He wants to see you.” “All right! We’re counting on

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-4771413434087612102010-11-06T21:55:00.001+09:002010-11-06T21:55:24.315+09:00

On the edge of the plaza, a disappointed Yamato wandered idly. Looking into the shadows of a container, he could see the barefoot boy from before eating the mackerel he’d stolen from Takeru. Yamato held out his bread to the frightened boy. “Eat this.” Without a word, the boy cautiously stretched out his hand. Yamato felt sad without knowing why. “What happened to your shoes?” “Taken.”

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2598856294052315596.post-71373628293853327852010-11-05T12:04:00.000+09:002010-11-06T02:05:11.770+09:00

Suzuko had recently added two new routines to every day. In the morning when she got to school, the very first thing was to look over at Yamato’s desk. In the evening before she slept, she called her cell phone that Yamato was carrying. It’d been a week and a half since he left Nagoya. She’d only been able to connect with him once. That was before he’d entered Makuhara. After that no matter

Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03651675507824175484noreply@blogger.com0