When I opened my weblog for comments last July, I knew I'd get some stupid ones and feared I'd take a lot of criticism. Happily for me, the comments I get on fresh posts are generally positive.
But on older posts, ones that people have found via Googling, I get some extremely strange notes. I thought I'd leave them in situ just for kicks. But really, what's the point? Today I went through and culled out some of the lamest ones. Oddly enough, they centered around 3 posts.
Rebuilding Afghanistan had seven comments with weirdness like "We wish you a merry Christmas" and "hello, buddeee." Beginner's playground? A message drop for spies? I don't know. They are all gone now.
Nipponjin with Scissors collected 21 lengthy "comments" from Pakistani scissors manufacturers soliciting my business. And the post I made about this blog spam received a spam itself. Pffft.
Here's the one that irks me most. i-mode penetration gets frequent notes complaining that the reader thinks the site is useless, he can't find what he's are looking for, etc. One included 43 exclamation points to back up his frustration!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Oh, I can't compete.)
Why does everyone hate that post? Because it mentions Japan's population and most of these commentators are misguided schoolchildren. One said I was wrong and she thought the population of Japan was 8 million. Maybe she confused Tokyo with Japan, but greater Tokyo has more than 12 million. Another even suggested that I update the population numbers for 2003. I guess she doesn't realise that Japan takes a census, but not annually.
Hey kids, get a clue--this is a weblog, not a valid source of information for your school reports. Check out the CIA World Factbook.
[Addendum, 9:39 am. As if on cue! To my July 6, 2001 post about resting in bed with my laptop, I just received this rather unusual comment: "I don't mean to be too forward, but hearing you talk about your fat rolls turns me on. Fat is so sexy. Tell me more please?" Should I delete this one or keep it? I'll let you decide...]
I'm not sure if it counts as work or a labor of love, but this week I set up a Moveable Type weblog for my father. He's a stained glass artist outside Philadephia, PA. 
Since I can't really have a pajama party to finish Hello, Tokyo, I will resort to method number 2 (take that as you will) for getting this project finished: fear of public humiliation.
And the solution? Plan a pajama party where all the guests come ready to work on a project of the hostess' choosing (which would, of course, be one of my unfinished projects!). Divide everyone into teams and set them a task. Maybe it would be "create the title frames for the video" or "edit the soundtrack." Something that could reasonably be accomplished before everyone falls asleep. Before going to bed, we'd put all the pieces together to complete the project.
Spotted in Kanda: nostalgic advertising. The coffee shop doesn't seem to be there anymore but the sign lives on. 
Cartesian Coordinates is four minute film class project I shot and edited in 1997 on 8mm.
The cookbooks weren't the only precious things in the box we shipped. We've reunited our CD collection.
Surprisingly, there are only three CDs that we have duplicates of: G.Love & Special Sauce, Red Hot + Rio, and Squirrel Nut Zippers' Hot!. Free to a good home, just ask.
Tucked inside a box shipped back from the US, two cookbooks. In honor of this windfall, I present a recipe from "Cooking Thai Food in American Kitchens" by Malulee Pinsuvana. I've never made anything from this 1976 cookbook, but I bought it in Thailand and it's in Thai and English, so how bad can it be?
It's hard to believe, but I've been living in Japan for long enough to have my gaikokujintourokusho, foreigner registration card, expire. Today I went to have it renewed. That's a once-every-five-years event. I feel like a long-time resident now...getting there, anyway.
I am happily saying goodbye to the bad photo circa 1998 from when my hair was growing out and I had to pull it back to keep it out of my eyes. 
I couldn't resist these pantyhose when I saw them in the store. They are enriched with amino acid and vitamin C. We dressed up to go out to dinner tonight and I slipped them on.




Shopping for fabric makes my head spin. 



The Nippon Ham Fighters lost tonight. But it wasn't due to a lack of cheering by us.
But let's be totally honest. Baseball in Japan is not about the game. It's about the Beer Girls. These hard-working hotties run up and down the aisles in satin shorts selling beer, whiskey and confections.
After the Ham Fighters' pathetic showing, we decided they must be the Chicago Cubs of the Japan league (or whatever the Japanese baseball consortium calls itself) and we had to have shirts. Here, John and I are modelling our new baseball jerseys. We've almost managed to get close enough for the shirts to spell out "Nippon Ham" across us.
Here's me working with my new sewing machine! 
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