I remember writing about autumn-blooming flowers. Now I'm seeing the late-late-autumn flowers, the winter flowers. The tsubaki and the other brilliant fuchsia and white flowers that I cannot name. And the weather is icy-cool, and windy, and the palm trees blow and rattle. And it snowed for the first time this winter yesterday; random, splattery gobbets of snow that didn't stick and didn't stay... I was so dazed with fatigue that I hardly noticed them. I regret that now. I should have at least tried to catch one on my tongue.

We walked through the snow as we were leaving the bowling alley. Alex, Melissa, Jenna and I had two games in the bustling Dia Lanes that is across the street from my apartment. I finally managed to break 90; my final score was 110... hooray for me! My bedroom (actually, my only room) faces the plain white wall of the bowling alley, and at night it sounds like thunder; once I got used to the sound, it became oddly comforting. On the other side of the apartment building, there are train tracks. I am blanketed by sound from all sides, all hours of the day. I woke up at 5am a couple of weeks ago, and in the stillness, I could hear my left neighbor singing (which he always does) and my right neighbor rustling paper. Yes, rustling paper. On the other side of the wall by my head.

My apartment has seemed more and more like a sad little squirrel's nest as time has gone by. I used to think that I wanted to live in a van and drive across the continent of North America. Maybe I still do. But the live in a van part has lost some of its appeal. Maybe the right van would be bigger than my apartment, though. And when I stepped out of the van, the scenery would be different every time. Not just the quick and narrow street that separates me from the white wall of the bowling alley. And I bet you that a van would have more than one range in the kitchenette.

I said I was dazed and fatigued yesterday; with good reason. I mistakenly believed that with most of my co-workers out of the country for vacation, I would revel in the lull and do things like vacuum and organize and write letters and shop for delayed Christmas gifts. I would hermit myself away and read the Dhammapada again. I would draw and paint. I would go to bed early and rise early. I would live out all of my best intentions, get a good start on my New Year's resolutions.

Ha!

Reality-check. I seem to be an inherently social animal. I love my time alone, but I am easily swayed and distracted by a phone-call or text message promising a good time. I worked the last two shifts after Christmas and before this holiday like a robot; I used what little energy I had to try and appear alert and eager for my students. After my shift on the 27th ended, Jenna, Melissa and I caught a brief second wind, borne of the promise of a full week off. No Nova. No explaining what "what's new" means to lower-level students every forty minutes. No obsessive upper-level students wanting detailed explanations of nonsensical English idioms. "'It's a piece of cake'? But how can that mean 'it's easy'? What about cake is easy? And 'The cat has my tongue?' Why? What if I have the cat's tongue? Is it the same?" (If you have a 'cat's tongue' in Japan, it means that you can't handle really hot food. I know better than to ask for an explanation.)

I digress. We went for a drink in a little cafe-bar that is dark and sparse but comfortable, and mural led in a decidedly Rap-1992 style. We went home. I went to bed early. A good beginning, or so I thought. The next day broke clear and bright, and my good intentions went out the window with a text-message from Satoshi; or did I send the first one? Anyway, we had a fabulous afternoon of coffee and yammering about everything in all directions and window shopping. I sank a bundle on a beautiful watch; an early birthday-gift to myself. It's one of those ones that never needs to be wound as long as you are wearing it; perpetual motion. It's gold with a turquoise face. I love it. Satoshi tried on an alligator-strapped watch with an enormous face that had a price tag equal to that of a new car; my stomach spun at the sight of it. I can't imagine owning something that entails such a high degree of responsibility. But mi-e needs are big in Japan. Mi-e (as I understand it) is that it's the look of a thing (or a person) that is most important. So young women will often go hungry for the sake of a designer handbag, identical to every other designer handbag of every other woman that works in her office.

Further digression. I bought my brother a fuzzy frog-suit for Christmas (you'll love it, dude) and Satoshi and I rounded off our day in the Puri-Kura (print club) booths, getting ridiculous stickers made with me peeking out of a toilet and stars exploding out of our heads. Standard fare. I made my way home, fully expecting to vacuum and hermit and read and paint, when I got a message from my old friend Shin, aka Shrine Boy, whom I had not seen for 8 months. Did I have time? Could I meet him for his last party of 2006? I met him at 'our' shrine and we biked many chilly blocks to his apartment; which was astoundingly smaller than mine. When I saw it, I wasn't surprised that the 'party' was only going to be him and me. He's a sweetheart, a little brother of a guy, only 20 years old and impossibly good-natured and full of idealism. We drank beer and ate pizza and watched Japanese comedy shows. I tried to explain the lyrics of a James Blunt song to him; he also loves the Backstreet Boys and Daniel Powter. He was drunk after one can of beer. I decided to go as he was rubbing his eyes and yawning like a three-year old; he biked me to a point where I recognized my surroundings. As I thanked him for the pizza and took my leave, my phone rang. Another friend. Where was I? Could I come out for a drink? Like, now?

Long story short, I went to sleep at about 6:30 am. I woke up at 8am, long enough to text message an apology and a cancellation to my private student. Again at 9 am to take my mom's phone call. Again at noon to get up, and go bowling. After bowling, after glancing nonchalantly at the falling snow, I announced that I was going home for a nap.

I woke up 17 hours later. That brings us to today. Today I made a list, and stuck to it, sort of. Maybe my hermity resolutions are a little too strict, after all. I better ought to stick with my friend's father's favorite saying: "Everything in moderation, including moderation".

Happy New Year.