Bowing to my Spider Overlords

Today the boy came back into the house after giving me a sweet kiss and leaving, he'd forgotten his other girlfriend, his laptop.

"There is a huge spider out there. You have to see it."

There's no way of missing it.

While I can admire this creatures size and the amazing spotting on it's belly, I cannot bring myself to walk by it, rendered defenseless by the dirty clothes filling my arms, to laundry room. I can wash my clothes later.

Full House

I've been a lousy blogger lately. Here's what I wrote for the OCC RWA Blog

Perhaps it's the cold given to me by a recent house guest, but I'm feeling a low on both Pop and Culture, so this month's post will follow suit.

Last night I was relaxing in bed and enjoying the premier of season two of Heroes (there's the pop culture part!) when a news spot comes on and a woman starts talking about this house that has been sitting on the shoulder of the 101 for over a week, complete with footage.

"Hey-" I start even as the boyfriend's eyes widen.

"That's our house!" He says.

Back to the beginning. I'm at my writing spot waiting for the words to pour forth when this horrible jackhammer noise starts up. It sounds like it's right outside my window but it's actually across the street. They're finally getting rid of the house that has had the notice of demolition sign up since we moved into our apartment three years ago. Soon we'll have 'affordable' condos there instead.

Only, despite some very vigorous jackhammering and other intrusive construction noises, the house doesn't actually appear to be getting demolished. Then one day, when I pull on my sweater and decide to take one of those clarifying walks, when I stop short in front of my apartment. There is a house parked across the street. I pull out my cell phone and take a picture.



Then retreat back into my apartment, not prepared to deal with the kind of world where a house is parked across the street. Later I peer out long enough to see that it's gone, and figure that's the end of the madness.

But when I join my boyfriend in the car that night to go out for dinner, we see the house, now down the block and parked at the end of the cul-d-sac, two police cars parked outside. We try not to stare, but it's hard not to. We're almost disappointed when we get back and the police are gone, though the house is still there.

And it stays there for at least a week and a half. Prompting various guests to greet me with: "You know there's a house parked down the street from you, right?" And a series of jokes about real estate and the new neighbors.

It goes on long enough that we have almost forgotten about it until we're in the car again, miles from home. The traffic report drones on underneath our conversation, but during a pause in conversation I hear a warning about the 101. Traffic is jammed for miles, and has been for hours, thanks to a house lodged in a freeway underpass. Startled, I ask the boy if he's heard that and then have to repeat the whole story to him.

"Think that's our house?"

"How many houses can there be moving around Los Angeles on any given day?" He asks.

Sure enough, the house was no longer down the street. I looked online to see if there are any pictures, but traffic in LA isn't a big enough story. A week later though, after I see the spot on the news, I can find dozens of pictures that confirm that it is my house (okay, the one from across the street) lodged underneath the freeway. I can understand the distinction, a house in the middle of a residential street for a week is nothing to write home about, sticking out into 101 for too long and the LA Times will take notice.

For more information on this strange debacle, just google "house 101 Freeway".

The Results of A Crafternoon

The cat is one of my favorite gifts that Tech Support's mother has given me. The red bib is something I've seen all over Japan and been wanting to make, my mum helped me.




Aunt Kitty made this, and it outclasses all the other magnets on my refrigerator. Unfortunately my camera phone cannot take good closeups.

I want to finish posting about Japan, but I think I shall mix it in with other posts from now on.

Endless Summer

Originally Friday, July 27th

I dragged Tech Support out of bed early on Friday to hike up a mountain with me. We went over to the train station to get our passes with my mother then left her behind as we took the bus to Nanzenji.

We walked past the main temple with intent and started up the mountain path. I led us past the point we'd gotten to before and only a short while later we came to a big split in the paths and stared with confusion at the map, entirely in Japanese. Some nice men pointed in one direction and said "Daimon", and since they appeared convinced that was the way we should go I was happy to follow their direction.



Also, I realized only a few minutes later that Daimon was the name of a rather famous mountain in Kyoto.



Then we walked, and walked, and walked. My ability to read Kanji just good enough that I was able to keep us heading towards Daimon anytime there was a split in the path. Most of the way trees obscured our view, but there were a few breaks.



We worked well as a team. One of us would fade at a time, saying something like, "well, I can go a little further but we've got to stop soon" and as soon as they were ready to give up the other would say "No, I see some blue, there is a beautiful view just up ahead."





This went on for almost two hours.



Finally I was just about ready to expire but Tech Support wanted to jog ahead further. I told him I'd walk slowly behind him and we'd meet up at some point. I followed after him, and after just a few minutes he disappeared from sight. I came to a split in the road and worried he might not know which way to go, but went in the directions I was fairly certain he'd gone.

And I walked, and walked. I worried again that he'd gone a different way at the split, but knew it was far more likely he'd forgotten about time altogether. I pressed on, panting like a dog after a rather steep incline, and only worried when I got to an even bigger fork in the road. From the map it looked like something ahead was worth getting to, but first you had to go up a rather step incline.

I climbed up. Another fork, this time no signs to help you. I looked both ways. I mumbled Tech Support's name loudly, then, worried, I started back down again. He would find me when I headed back.

I paused at the bottom to look at the map one more time, and that's when I heard my name. Tech Support was at the top of the hill, and so pleased to see me. I followed after him and after a few minutes, we saw our view.



Pictures can't do it justice, we saw all of Kyoto. At once. We could see the station, where our Ryokan was, the tiny orange gate that was the massive Tori for the Heian Shrine, everything.



We sat down for a moment. Another couple was there, and older Japanese one, she was trying to talk to JR about something she'd lost on the train and was having trouble getting reception up the mountain.



Tech Support and I had run out of water, poor planning on our part, and were already dreading a bit of the downhill. While the slope was hard on our knees, we only took about an hour, half the time it took to get up, to get back down. But by the time I recognized things as being down by the base I was terrifically thirsty. It was hard not to run through the temple to the soda machines.





We caught the bus back to Kyoto station and then walked over to our Ryokan where we showered and rolled around on our futons, groaning. Tech Support got some laundry together and went down the street. I went over to visit him but the heat was so bad that even walking on the street was difficult.


(Probably my favorite shot from the trip.)

I left him with the laundry and wandered around just a tiny bit more, taking refuge in the air conditioned crafts store, then going back to meet with everyone at the Ryokan.

We had Okonomiyaki at the train station, a fun experience that involved cooking our own crazy pancake-type-thing on our table. Then went across town to Gion where we got our own booth and Karaoke'd for a few hours. Lil Bro's tempo was off but his voice surprisingly like Bob Dylan's, J-Po made everything into heavy metal, and I was totally unable to carry a tune.







Karaoke is always deceptively fun. I think an hour is enough time to sing with friends, then suddenly almost two hours have gone by and it's time to get back to the Ryokan before curfew.