The holidays as sport

You know when you go to a Holiday Party where you don't know a lot of people, maybe it's your brother's coworkers, or your wife's bridge club, and you end up talking to a lot of interesting people, because you alone didn't know to avoid them? And on the one hand, it's kind of annoying to see people snicker next to the punch bowl while you listen to the most lengthy stories about cat sweaters and why Lithuania deserves induction into the EU Hall of Fame, but on the other, you get to monopolize the talk in the car ride home, for a change.
If you go to enough of these parties, or you don't have any stable friends so you're always meeting new people, you get to where you can sort and file everyone into types within minutes. Not that it's hard; people certainly aren't trying to trick you.

See if you can finish these opening sentences:
A. "My friends, Bob and Jean, they're just over there, do you know them? They said, Marge, you'll never get that cat to wear..."
B. "I've done a lot of traveling in my time. I've gone up and down the pyramids a couple times, and I owned a postcard shop on the Eiffel Tower, or Tour de France, as they call it. Man, I love Europe. The one problem I got is, they won't let...."

How'd you do? Are you party-ready? Or just a party-hearty?

The one type I left out, as astute readers probably guessed, is the new-age/health-food/crystals person. They are usually classifiable within this broad category, unless you're at a new age party, and then you may have to pull out the old Kingdom Phylum Division Class Order etc. etc.

Personally, I enjoy hearing stories of miraculous recoveries with simple regimens from the heart. Massage is a good way to do this, I hear. Massage is reported to release not only aching, trapped muscles, but the torment and joy of aching, trapped emotions. I've heard of people laughing, crying, and singing while they receive massages, especially if it's on an area that doesn't get touched often, like your cranial sacrum or your duodenum. . I met one couple who told me that during a dual-massage on their calf, they quite unconsciously proposed and accepted each other's hand in marriage! Figuring out what had happened when they came to in a small drive-thru chapel was the easy part, they told me. Explaining it to their spouses took more imagination.

One time after such a party where I had met not one but four massage adherents, I was so moved by the testimony that I immediately went home and vigorously massaged my solar plexus. I lay quietly in the darkened room and opened myself up to whatever visions or feelings my subconscious might send me. What happened is the following:
Two women stand around a wooden table. They look unhappy, and their dress is 19th century. Cut to a tall man, like a Mafioso, talking to a smaller man, perhaps Danny DeVito? The taller man says, "We didn't come here to Liverpool."

Obviously understanding this sending was far beyond me, so I wrote it down carefully on a piece of paper, folded it up, and put in my wallet. My wallet was soon after stolen, so I wrote it down again and put it in my new wallet. Now, when I go to parties and meet new people, I make sure to pull out my wrinkled, badly faded paper and read from it as from a tablet of stone. Then I ask my listener if they have any advice? Any insight? But I don't pause for them to answer, of course, because this really isn't about them.

Answers: A. a sweater B. Lithuania into the EU Hall of Fame

All systems go-to GO!

So, once again my job puts me in a position where I'm supposed to help people. I like helping people, I like being the go-to person, especially when I'm able to solve some anxious dilemna with a simple well-placed phone call.
Really though, there's two reasons why I, or any other secretary/assistant/wise-ass, in your department is so good at what they do:
1) They get a lot of experience. You can flatter yourself into believeing you're the first one to ask that question (i.e., "How do I get a pomegranete out of the fax machine?"), but you're probably not.
2) They learn from their experience. *Especially good assistants take notes.

Some people might be tempted to add a 3) They're not whiny, but I don't think that's true 100% of the time.

Let's try a sample office scenario.
Mary has traveled to John's office to get a security badge created. This badge is so important that without it, she can't even make copies. Mary waited for John to send it to her for two weeks before someone told her she needed to go get it herself.

John: Did you bring the paperwork?
Mary: I thought you had it.
John: I don't.
Mary: I sent it to you last week.
John: I never saw it. You can't get this without the paperwork.
Mary: I need to get this now.
John: You can't do it without the paperwork.
Mary: Okay, I'll come back later.
[pause]
Assistant: Could she just fill it out again, here? Since she's already here?
[pause]
John: Yes, that would work.
Mary: Oh, I'll do that then.

Man, assistants really are swell. It's too bad Secretary's Day only comes once a year!

In Vietnam!*

Erin, Companion and Koala get off the plane and are greeted by the hot, muggy air of Vietnam-at-any-time. Of course, coming from the biting cold of the Land-Without-Logical-Heating, it’s really like the county’s come to give them a big hug. It could also be the koala tightening its grip.
They make their way through the airport and give up the koala at customs, not without some gleefulness.
When they get outside the airport, having already become millionaires at the exchange counter, they find a long line of helpful, scrupulous taxi drivers waiting for their favor.
It takes some time to find a driver who will give them a cheap fare and allow them to enter his cab drenched in koala spit, but they are soon speeding away towards Hanoi.
What a city! The entire city teems with life, and all the population is out bustling about.

Then, they all go get avocado shakes which are really delicious even though you might not think so.

The banner reads : Welcome! Erin, Companion, $$!

*I’ve never been to Vietnam, so this part is really, really made up.
**I think that instead of this, I’m going to go buy an ice-cream and eat it. Cheers!

Vacation Schmacation

As some of you may know, Erin is on vacation in Vietnam.
Now, I know Erin, and I know she would like nothing better than to tell us what's going on during her vacation - but she doesn't have a computer! And maybe she doesn't actually like dealing with the hassle of uploading all those awesome pictures she makes and dealing with Blogger's unenthusiastic image editor. Maybe, I'm just throwing stuff out here.
The good news is, Erin and I can communicate telepathically. So, while she's in Vietnam, I'll be reading her thoughts and then making up stuff to type here! Sounds good, eh? I could post her photos, too, but I can't upload from my mind.

Day 1: Leaving Japan!
Erin and Companion go to Narita, excited for their trip to Vietnam! Yeah!
They're flying AirChina, because it's cheap, and because they do all announcements in 10 different languages, all equally hesitant and mumbled, so that you miss the last 15 minutes of whatever movie you chose.
They approach the counter and check-in, only to find that new passport regulations require all passengers to only travel with people of the same nationality! Erin and Companion are not of the same nationality by blood! Customs is very sorry, but you two will have to go on separate flights and stay in separate hotels. Unless....
Unless what?
Unless you are covered by this very special law from 40 years ago that would absolve you of all this. Let me check. You are not. ....But maybe there is another way.
Another way?
Yes, you must agree to wear this koala for the duration of your flight.
Koala?
Koala. Ahem, excuse me, koara.
The whole flight?
Including layovers.
Well, okay. If it means we can travel together.

Erin straps on the koala and takes her seat on the plane(Really, no straps are necessary - koalas have claws). The flight attendants notice the koala and add a safety lecture in koalese before take-off, before landing, and during every stimulating moment in a movie.
Erin, Companion, and koala layover in Taipei, the worst layover airport in Asia. They're trying to save some money, so they don't plan on buying lunch, but the koala gets hungry and starts keening, so they buy him a small Coke and a bag of chips. Total cost: ￥1700.

They wait 7 hours, the longest an airport is allowed to make you layover before it counts as work and they have to pay you, and then they board their flight to Vietnam. This flight is short and to the point, interrupted only by the koala whimpering when he gets airplane-ears. Erin gives him some gum to release the pressure, which helps, but then he gets it in his fur and creates a real mess and sticks himself to the seat. There are no scissors on the plane, of course, and no peanut butter either, so the staff uses fish oil and hotdogs to try and grease the gum out. Naturally, this doesn't work, and only results in an oily, stinky, angry, and resentful koala that has gas from too many hotdogs. And is still sticking to everything. A move to flush the koala down the john is narrowly defeated.

Next time: In Vietnam!

Why I get paid more than anyone else

I didn't have any actual work to do for a decent chunk of my day today, so I thought I'd make a graph of my pay rate at my coffeehouse job.

So, the first one shows how my Total Received Pay Rate (including tips) varries with the number of hours per shift. Notice it loosely follows a correlation path.

Then I thought, how do I represent the fact that the night shift earns significantly less money than the day shift? So the second graph shows night/vs day, after being adujusted for hours worked per shift.

('night' and 'day' are mislabeled - they should be reversed)

I like to think I learned a lot about Excel in making these.

Then I thought I'd read Japanese stuff about my industry online; studying, as it were.

Some gems:

ユニバーサルデザイン：性差、年齢、障害などの特性にかかわらず多くの人が快適に使用でき、豊かで充実した体験が得られる物や場所のデザイン、サービス。

So, what they're saying is, you won't have a problem with this whatever-it-is even if you have 'gender difference.' Which sounds like you're either intersex or transgender. But what they mean is, if you're 'not male'. Wouldn't it be easier to just say that?

otoko no kata de wa nai kanashimi nado.

Next, take 多様化したニーズとそれに応えるクルマの関係 and mistranslate it and what do you get?

Diversified knees!

That'll keep you rolling for HOURS.

Finally, I'm in love with エルゴインデックス. First you think it's dirty, then you think ergo? Then you realize it's just hard to say. So many levels!

Characters I Have Created:

The following is a list of characters created by me:

**DO NOT STEAL**

1. Underwater Spaceman (2007)

2. Naked Abraham Linclon (2004, with Sarah Jackson)

3. Pantless Winston Churchill (2004, with Sarah Jackson)

4. Flightsuit-too-tight Amelia Airhart (2004, with Sarah Jackson)

5. Nympho-Grand-Canyon-with-a-thing-for-Keita-Hosaka (2004, with Sarah Jackson)

6. Scary Mummy (2005)

7. Frankenrock (2005)

9. Little Bald Guy with Lobster Claw for Hand (1991)

10. Sock-eating Frog man (1986)

11. Canadian Vampire (2007)

12. Erin Stapler Hands (just now... when I realised my office has two staplers)

13. Intertia Man (2000)

14. Princess Smurfette (1984)

15. Cork Screw Tail Monsters that Hatch out of Eggs at the Grocery Store (1997)

YAY!!! WE ARE EMPLOYED!!!

In honor of both erin and elisabeth begining real, actually for real, jobs this month, here is an image of famous kabuki guy trying to catch a chicken!

You and I need different things

Today was my first day at my new job at an undisclosed Japanese company (just remembered I did actually sign a confidentiality agreement - whoops).
Of course, I have no idea how to do my job, which involves lots of forms and lots of acronyms. So many acronyms, do these people use any full words?

But luckily my Japanese predecessor made a list of company-specific acronyms. There were some obvious-once-you-see-it, and no-way-I'd-ever-get-that ones:
D/H: Door handle
CCT: Cyclic corrosion test

But a few stuck out:
Sliders: Used to describe White Castle hamburgers
KFC: Kentucky Fried Chicken
Hou/reng/sou: spinach

Maybe I reconsider my application

Since I'm interviewing for a job at a - surprise! - Japanese company tomorrow, I thought I'd share some of the highlights of my previous experiences in the Japanese workforce.
Words that were originally said in English are in bold .

Perverted Coworker: Eli, what word in Saga dialect has had the most resonance for you?
Me: Wha-?
Perverted Coworker:
Me: Uh, a word that resonates with me... nothing comes to mind.
Perverted Coworker: And I went to such difficulty to teach you!
Me: Uh..... I like "just do it." (「よかろうもん」)
Mr. K: Just do it?
Me: (to Perverted Coworker) What word most resonates with you in English?
Perverted Coworker: I love you.
Rebel Coworker and others: Eeewww.
Rebel Coworker: Fuck you.
Me: (blushing) What??
Rebel Coworker: Nothing.
Mr. K who always whispers so I can't understand him: sdkd dkdiei djdie?
Me: What?
Mr. K: Will you marry me?
Me: What?
Mr. K: Will you marry me?
Me: What?
Perverted Coworker: Eli, there's no according to taste.

A phone conversation with a very important boss.

Boss: Thank you for translating the slogan for the Saga National High School Athletic Meet. However, about your suggestion, "Break your own record!," it has the word "break" in it. We feel this is negative.
Me: Well, yes, break can be negative, but it's positive in English.
Boss: We feel this is negative.
Me: Okay, Exceed? Surpass? Overcome?
Boss: People don't know these words.
Me: ....Who is this translation for, Japanese people or English speakers?*(*Yes, I know Japanese people can be English speakers, but not in this case).
Boss: Japanese people.
Me: Well then, what about Do Better Than Your Best?
Boss: I like it! Do Your Better Best!
Me: No no, Do Better Than Your Best. There's a word between Better and Best.
Boss: Do Your Better Than Best!
Me: Uh, no, Do Better Than Your Best.
Boss: Do Better Than Your?
Me: For the love of..

Never in America!!

So my friend Sarah and I have this manzai (Japanese comedy) group and sometimes we take our show on the road without even realizing! But anyway, part of our "persona" is that when people ask us where we are from (which people do every ten seconds in Japan) we won't tell them WHICH country, and hilarity ensues as they continue to ask. So.... anyway, we are in Shibuya, and we want to go to Mr. Donuts so we hit up a police box (aka: directions box).

Sarah: is there a mr. donuts around here?
big cop: oh... no there isn't! but there is an "and on and" that's a new donut shop that's a step above mr. donuts.
Sarah: oh, sure, where is that?
big cop: (points at map and gives directions)
little cop: (loosely points at the map and softly repeats what big cop said)
Sarah: great, thanks.
big cop: hey, your japanese is really good? Where are you from?
(Sarah and I look at each other... the perfect chance to do our act!)
Sarah: from.... gaikoku... (foreign country)
big cop: but from which COUNTRY?
me: from a country in gaikoku.
Sarah: we're both from the same country.
big cop: ok, so where is the country that you come from?
me: it's..... abroad.
little cop (in english): where country?
me (in english): foreign country.
(little cop and big cop look at each other)
little cop: what does "foreign country" mean?
big cop: i think it means "gaikoku"
(they both laugh)
big cop: where are you from?
sarah: from a foreign country.
big cop: but what is the NAME of that country?
(we both think "crap!")
sarah: it's that country.... that country that's abroad...
(cops laugh)
Sarah: actually, we have a comedy group!
big cop: wow!!! are you on TV?
Sarah: no... unfortunately.
little cop: what is your groups name?
Sarah and me: gaijin dantai! (foreigner group)

So..... we:
a. asked cops where a donut shop was
b. when asked, refused to tell the cops where we come from