i have discovered the first kind help-line people on the planet... these people were really nice and they sell phonecards for 4 cents a minute to japan... i know this is a rather large yawn of a post, but i got to talk on the phone to myboyfriend for four hours for 20 bucks... and that ain't bad folks! the excitement doesnt stop!

in other news, i have come officially committed to another year in japan. that means i will be 25 when i get back, if indeed i return to the states... weird. i am not musing about age, only that thinking in this context gives me some perspective on how quickly the time has passed... i still run around blowing bubbles for heaven's sake, i dunno what constitutes "growing up" but i sure dont seem to have a grasp on it...

and in a non-sequitor speaking of which, my pal jeremy got a text message on his cell phone from a lovely japanese girl he met at a party. it read, and i quote

"Let's grow up together. The more we grow, the more we suck!"

After a heated debate on what the implications were, if any, on that one, i am asking for yer take on it as we arent' sure if it's a sexual innuendo or some punk-pseudo-intellectual nonsense....

I find that there's not one, but MANY people who remember "Jem."
Now, I never owned a Jem doll, because I was often too shy to ask for things I wanted as a child. I had Dawn dolls, which were also pretty darn cool.
But nothing really compares to Jem, the Holograms, and the Misfits.

I'm moving soon and am thinking of getting a mobile phone and skipping the land line.

Anybody doing this? Thoughts/suggestions? Good/bad experiences with mobile companies?

Outside the building, there is a bird feeder. It's 18 degrees outside, and a confused, bright red cardinal was feeding. There was also a small cohort of pidgeons present. It made me think about how blown away I was last night by this passage in, Infinite Jest, wherein DFW describes a young James Incandenza speaking with his increasingly inebriated father in a communal garage beside their 3,900 lb Montclair. His father is lecturing him about objectivity, the sport of tennis, and control over his own body -- haranguing him, really. The father rips open balls to demonstrate their object-ness. The whiff of stale air is like a "rubber hell"

I wonder how many bright red cardinals had to be ripped open and sniffed before their maleness became an objective truth. The pidgeons are really restless. City pidgeons are ungainly and fat; they're also fearless. You can trample past them with a Great Dane or a Pit Bull on a leash, and they won't give you a second thought. But in flocks, they're nervous, and bolt easily. Mass hysteria for birds.

These ungainly, fat birds take off like rockets. Faster than a Dodge tomahawk, they're gone.

I wonder if the same principle holds for fat women. I mean, individually, on the sidewalk, You can trample past them with a Great Dane or a Pit Bull on a leash, and they won't give you a second thought - hell more likely than not, they'll get in your way.

But maybe in flocks, they're nervous, and bolt easily. It's hard to tell. Chicago's sidewalks are so narrow, that you very rarely see plump women in more than twos or threes.

I just wonder. I wonder how fast can a fat woman really run?