It's still better than $5 in a freshly laundered pair of jeans, or even change in the couch cushions...

I wrote this god-knows-when.  I think last time my mom was visiting, as I vaguely recall the moment and I picture her sitting at our dining table.  Saying, with some effort (and this below is what I just discovered in my drafts with no further explanation):

Booger-y.
BURRgury.

I love to find these forgotten treasures.

And, in case you were wondering, she was trying to say Bulgaria.

Occam of the future

Last night I was scraping off the label from a new metal spatchula when my mom says to me, "Where did you find the one sided laser?"

I looked at the razor in my hand and started laughing.

First date-night

Last night, John and I left the frijolito with my mom for a quick date and caught the second half of a jazz show at Cafe Stritch.  It was the first time to leave him in the care of someone and I definitely felt some pangs of separation anxiety as we drove away from the house, but he was fast asleep when we left plus we planned to be back before any needs arose, plus my mom is great with him, plus there are cell phones... and I know it's important to enjoy some time just John and me.

The show was fantastic and we got home with plenty of time before the baby's next feeding.  And though I knew nothing had gone wrong because we had not received any frantic calls from my mom, I was very anxious to know how the first babysitting had gone.

We opened the door, my mom popped around the corner and I asked how it'd gone.  

My mom looked really excited to let us know:

"NOT A BEEP!!"

Like a five-dollar bill you found in your jeans pocket

Prompted by Bobby Jay of the salivation-enducing-encyclopedic-cooking-adventure-blog  Bobby Jay on Food, I logged in to my mctm account to flesh out the notes I have been keeping on the various things small and large which my crazy tokyo mother has been up to.  In my drafts I found an untitled entry I'd written presumably last fall when my mom was here to visit.  My guess is this is something she said to me without the realization that shifting from first to second person is not as smooth as most 'first to second' shifts, be it violin fingerings, car gears, or ballet positions.  I'm sure it cracked me up and I typed it in to a new entry verbatim to preserve the moment with the intent to write something up later.  I clearly never did, but finding it with zero context was kind of amazing.

Here is what I found:

tell them that your mother is here bothering me.

I love it.

Just like every cowboy sings his sad song

Last time we were here, John made an infusion of Jim Beam, Aperol and sansho from my mom's backyard.  It sat untouched for the past nearly two years, and when John got here one of the first things he did was to pull it out and filter it.  The Jim Beam bottle was literally covered in dust which tells you how much of a drinker my mother is.  "I didn't even know that was HERE!" my mom exclaimed. 

Sansho leaves are something I've found nearly impossible to procure in the US, even at Japanese or other specialty grocers.  When I was living here in 2007/8, I made a very delicious panna cotta using the leaves as an edible, slightly lemony, slightly peppery garnish.  

As a side story, when I'd made this dessert, my mom was astonished at the lightness of the flavor.  "Let's eat this every day!" she said.  

"Do you know how much heavy cream goes in to each serving?" I asked her.  Then I told her.  

"Well, maybe let's not eat this every day," she sighed.

But back to my story.  We are considering taking some of my mom's sansho back to the US.  "It's a very strong bush," she told us as we looked out in the yard.  "It's the one right there, with the thons."

I love it.  As cute as tish.  She's been out of the US for 15 years now and it's taking its toll on her English.  Much to my glee. 

We are not translators, not by a long shot!

I have found myself in a position where I am having to attempt to translate some of the photo captions from my picasa site. It is inordinately difficult. My mom and I struggled through a few, agreeing and disagreeing on the Japanese or the English or both. Talk about vexation! We were not even speaking a language by the time we took a break. These words actually passed my mom's lips: "Like I’m always looking for a new word kind of way." Wha? Meaning is completely up for grabs. I'm sure that's not English either, but I'm beyond caring right now.
We arrived at the photo of the girl with her cell phone down the back of her pants. The caption, "From this girl, I learned the best place to store your cell phone is your butt-crack," seemed straight forward enough, so I was typing the Japanese as my mom quickly and easily dictated her translation because she, too, thought it should be a breeze. Oh, how wrong we were.

Here is her Japanese translation retranslated back into English:
"From this girl, I learned the best place to store your cell phone is your butt-hole."

I almost laughed out my lung.

First victim of the Japanese Ninja Widow

This morning I got some kind of insect bite. I did not see it, so I don't know what it was. But it wasn't a mosquito. Or, if it was a mosquito, it was a mosquito on steroids. It swelled up at the location at first (pictured), but now my whole arm is slightly bloated. It's been nearly 6 hours but the effects are not gone. In fact, I am having some trouble typing since my arm is sore and my brain isn't functioning to its highest capacity. I think I might have a slight temperature and was mentioning this to my mom. "It's possible, you know," she told me. "Because of the venon." It was cute. Steve asked me if it was a black widow. I don't think so. He suggested grey widow. Maybe that was what it was. My mom said she thought it was something invisible since I didn't see it. Clear widow? or maybe it was just that I didn't see it. So, I guess it was a ninja widow.

mctm's Crazy Kyoto Friend

This is Ryohei:


He's probably one of the few people I can say are weirder than my mom. Really. He was impressed that I can play Rock, Paper, Scissors with my feet. Apparently, that makes me super Japanese. "Funny, you don't look like a Japanese!" - this was his catch phrase all weekend. He gives my mom a harder time than I do, probably. They went to the US around the same time and I guess went to Yale together. We talked about how tough the TOEFL test is nowadays and they both mused that they probably would have flunked it if they had had to take such a test and would have never been able to go to college in the States at all. That's probably true.

Anyway, he was telling stories about traveling through the US on a bus in the 60's. This was one of the best stories. He was on tour and his group had stopped at a Howard Johnson's or something somewhere in the Midwest for dinner. "The waitress was staring, you know, because probably she had never seen a Japanese before," Ryohei tells us. "When she came over to take our order, I said, 'I'll have spaghetti.' Then the waitress said to me, 'We don't have that kind of tea here. We don't serve Chinese tea.' You know, because I pronounced it like the Japanese do, spaghe'TI, instead of spagheddy." My mom practically had a conniption. For me, I thought it was as sad as it was funny.

Y.E.S. - Yoko's English? Subversive.

She had joined in on my skype chat with my dad and step-mom. After greetings, she informed them, "Nami is dreading summer in Japan."
Now, it's mid-August. As far as I can tell, we are in the middle of summer in Japan! The linguist in me can't let this slide by unnoticed.
"Dread is about a future occurrence. I can't dread summer. It is summer. You're using the word wrong."
"No, I'm not. I've always used it like that."
"I'm sure you have. But, dread is like about trepidation about something that hasn't happened yet."
"Well, whatever then. Nami hates summer in Japan."

I can't say she's wrong. The constant cry of cicadas are like some audio form of waterboarding to me. It's true that I had just asked her when all the cicadas will die. I'm sick of their screaming. She told this to my dad and Deborah, but she said locusts. I corrected her, but she claimed that it's the same difference. It SO isn't, but she was just confused because I guess "17-year locusts" are cicadas. Whoever invented that name was deliberately trying to stir up future Japanese mother/ Half-Japanese daughter disagreements, I just know it.

Anyway, later we continued our discussion about 'dread' v 'hate' - I can't help that I've become something of a vocabulary Nazi. "Do you really use the word 'dread' like the word 'hate'?" I asked my mom.
"No," she answered. "They don't mean the same thing."
"True," I agreed. "I'm telling you that 'dread' is always about something in the future."
She replied, "I always thought it was when you were worried about something that's gonna happen."
**Long pause as we gaze at each other like high noon (somewhere a tumbleweed is rolling by).
"EXACTLY! Going to happen! Something in the future! You just said it yourself! You knew all along!" She starts laughing like crazy.
"I'm going to go have a cigarette," she announces before she steps out. I don't think it's that she's trying to make me look like the grammar police. I think she just likes riling me up. Argh.

(phrasal verb) - preposition = cute

We are going to Okinawa in November, so I bought a new swimsuit. I bought it on-line after a few discouraging attempts to find one in a store here. Japanese swim wear is either ugly or a billion dollars. Yen. Whatever. Luckily, an on-line store where I'd previously bought a swimsuit was having a sale. Since I knew my size, I went ahead and bought one. It is due to arrive any day now. My mom was shocked at my purchase; she conveyed this to me by remarking, "But, how can you buy one without even trying?" I explained that even using the internet takes a little effort, but of course that wasn't what she meant and I knew it. She's too fun to tease sometimes.

mchjd post 9: Will I ever grow up?

I had a student today, a woman a little younger than my mom but contrarily very proper and polite; a most agreeable student. Today's lesson covered things you might need to know should you need to visit a doctor, with phrases like "the flu" or "food poisoning." Naturally, the word "diarrhea" was also in the text book, but I am enough of a professional at this point that I didn't even crack a smile. Not to say I didn't want to but, proudly, I repressed the juvenile urge to giggle. What happened next made this valiant effort worthless, though.

You see, she had trouble with the word's enunciation. The first time, she said DI-a-rrhe-a. So I corrected her. "The stress is on the third syllable," I said in a teacherly way. di-a-RRHE-a
I felt proud that I was keeping it professional.

Then there was a dialog between a doctor and patient. Of course the writers of this text book couldn't give the patient the flu. Nooo, it had to be food poisoning. At this point, I'm still holding it together, but when my student gets to the line in question, she makes the same error, "I have DIarrhea." So I remind her, "It's diaRRHEa." I'm still holding up.

Here, she begins to chant to get the correct pronunciation firmly into her brain. I'm used to this behavior from students - repetition really does help - but all of a sudden I'm aware that she's saying, "I have diaRRHEa. I have diaRRHEa" over and over again and the second grader in me comes flying out full-force. Tears of laughter begin welling up in my eyes and I can't breathe. She looks concerned and asks me if she's said something wrong. I shake my head 'no' and force myself to think of something-anything!-else. But it's too late; I'm laughing and no longer feeling any pride, but rather that I'm going to get fired if I can't pull myself together. The rest of the lesson was me reminding myself not to remember this incident, forgetting it, then wondering what it was I was trying to not remember, remembering it again and having to quell any hysterics. It was this pattern over and over again, but I managed to survive the remainder of the lesson without incident, though I don't know that 'teaching' accurately describes what I was able to do in those 20 minutes.

Generational gap defined, much to her chagrin

I was vaguely partaking in a conversation my mom and one of her former students, Jun chan, were having this morning, when I heard a word I was not familiar with.
"What's ohbehjin," I asked.
"It's what you are," my mom said. A brilliant definition that clarified close to nothing for me.
A giggle escaped my lips. "I don't know what that means."
So she clarified. "Da white people."
I swear to god she said 'da' and not 'the;' I was laughing so hard. But Jun chan didn't agree with this explanation. My mom said that the characters that make up the word come from the words "Europe" and "America" to which Jun chan agreed, but she said that while elderly people might still think that means 'white,' the younger generation may not be so narrow in their interpretation.

As for me, I was just recovering from my loss of control over my mom's 'da white people' comment when the words 'elderly people' passed Jun chan's lips. Of course I had a total relapse. My mom didn't scowl, though. She just laughed. I'm kind of glad that that scowl is reserved only for the disparaging comments that I make. Kinda makes me feel special.

If the shoe fits...

I noticed a pair of unfamiliar grandma-like sandals in our genkan-entryway and thought maybe there was someone here. So I asked my mom, but she said no and why do I ask. "Because there are a pair of old granny shoes in the genkan that I've never seen before."
"Oh, those are mine," she tells me.
"Those granny shoes?" I ask.
"Yes, I thought I'd start wearing them from now...," she responds.
I thought about it for a minute.
"Because you're getting old or because it's getting warm?"
She laughed so I thought she was going to say, "Both" but she didn't say anything at all. Sometimes her actions are super CB*

* Yay! Footnote number 2
cho bimyo means 'very hard to tell' - I recently read an article about this kind of Japanese that they are calling KY-style Japanese. I want to bring it to the US because if it's possible to make something that already is kind of meaningless to me even more meaningless while somehow retaining some significance, then I'LL DO IT.

'mfa≠job steve' has it right: Yoko you so crazy

Last night my mom was talking about this kind of light, orchestral music that is not really classical but not really pop and as such is extremely popular among many Japanese. She couldn't remember the name of the composer and so started to try and describe the music to me. She didn't even make it through one sentence.
Y: It's really soupy...
N: You mean, sappy...
Y: No, SOUPY. You know, light and not really very serious, sentimental.
N: Yes. Sappy. Cheesy.
Y: Soupy.
N: I don't understand. You are telling me that the music has the quality of soup? I have no idea what that means. I think you are using the wrong word.
Y: No, I've used it for years and no one has said anything before.
N: That's probably because they thought you were meaning 'sappy.' But, please, explain to me exactly how music can have the quality of soup, and what that means to you.
Y: (laughing) Well... (long pause)
N: (laughing) You don't even know, do you!
Y: Yes I do! It's nice and it's sort of runny...

She couldn't get any further than this though which told me enough, not that I would have heard her over my cackling. I can't really give her any grief since I'm sure there are a million things I know how to use but probably couldn't give a definition if my life depended on it. Actually, I've discovered I have this problem with many idioms. I guess adjectives are to Yoko what idioms are to me.

those little throw away moments

"If I see it, I want to stop it." This declaration was made with gusto today as we drove to the cemetery. What heinous offense is my mom so against? Nothing. She was telling me about a little farmers' market kind of place and, while I had a good laugh, it was just a case of pronoun/adverb confusion: it, there, whatever. These are the little moments that don't get shared but happen daily, sometimes hourly. Let me tell you, the scowling abounds each and every time.

The moral here is that the whole is more than the sum of its parts and you'll just have to experience her yourself someday to fully appreciate what I get to enjoy every day.

Sincerely, move over

Okay, so this one really was an accident, but until I figured it out I thought it was totally the most brilliant and hilarious thing to happen in a while.

I proof read a recommendation letter my mom had written correcting the engrish as I went along then this is how it closed.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
bla bla, it is my great pleasure to recommend bla bla.

I am,

Yoko M------
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
I feel sketched about putting full names on the internet. Call me paranoid. Anyway, it wasn't meant to be a closing but for a brief few minutes I was hopeful. 'Sincerely'? Overused. 'Best'? Impersonal! 'Best wishes'? LAME! 'May I always live to serve you and your crown'? Too monarchical! *sigh* All I want is something simple but not boring! Ah, yes. I think I'll just use the good ol' 'I am.' Simple, straightforward, honest.

EXACTLY.

To the LIMIT!

In the kitchen, she noted: "I was going to buy more eggs at the store today! I used them for the cakes. We're down to none."

The new name of fear

We just finished watching "The Silence of the Lambs," me for the nth time, but my mother for the first time. It was, as it always is, a very intense experience. My mom asked me if Jodie Foster was the same person that was in the movie "As Good as it Gets" but I said no, that was Helen Hunt.
"Oh, that's right," she said. "And I always forget the name of that actor...what was the name of the guy who played Lester?"
"Who?"
"The doctor in the movie we just saw. Dr. Lester?"

Fear has a new name, and it is Hannibal Lester.

It's a good thing my mom never worked for Hollywood in that capacity. Somehow Hannibal Lester just doesn't have the power to strike anything but glee into my heart.

"It was good to hear you"

Latest quote from mctm's email. This was sent, naturally, after we had spoken on the phone. I can hear her now, telling me, "I meant it literally." Which I'm sure she did.

All you mctm fans out there, fear not! She is coming home tomorrow so we can hope for more things like this happening in person. Although I did have to comment that I don't know why these kinds of things still make me smile. I mean, she is the product of this crazy culture that not only has a TV station called BS (devotees will remember) but feels no sense of irony that the news brief of said channel is called "BS News" and that the commentator begins every edition with the words, "Now I will give you the BS News" (of course in Japanese).

Condonlences received

My mom just emailed me condolences about my toe. Here is the excerpt from her email: "Sorry about your toe. How did you stab it."
I might as well have stabbed it for how much it bled. Also, the period was part of her sentence. CUTE!