I hope you'll forgive me.
I hope the people of Japan forgive me.
I hope Amos forgives me, as we go around and I ask him to read everything.
I'm sitting here, and I do have so much to tell you: Amos' birthday weekend (awesome), hiking Mt. Yoro (so fun), hanami and sakura season (beautiful), my feelings on roles in marriage being an expat wife (complicated), on being here, sans my career (conflicted), on joining Twitter (wtf... so confused). I haven't even shown you our remote control toilet or our bathtub that you can fill up from the kitchen (I know!), and, for that, I sincerely apologize.
Sometimes I get overwhelmed, being here, with so much going on. I am blown away by the beauty of this country and so thankful and grateful for all that I get to experience while I'm here. I mean, you guys, I LIVE IN JAPAN. Holy hell, is that cool or what? I loved taking the train up and hiking a mountain this weekend that had botany like nothing I'd ever seen, then coming down and eating rice balls covered in miso before catching the train home. It's as if amazing, wonderful, exciting things are continually flowing, no rushing, towards me. Do this! Experience that! Now this! Make time for this... and that! I am, and constantly remind myself to be, very, very grateful. Profoundly grateful. I want to share all of this wonderfulness with you, and I seem to always have a list of things that I need to write about (that's why my draft folder has 15 as
There's another side that I want to share as well. It's a side that's harder to write, to put down in words. It deals with cultural values, and stereotypes, and what I thought my life would look like and what my life does look like and deeply held beliefs. I can't share it with you yet because I haven't successfully sussed out my feelings on it. But it's there, it's real, and it's complicated. Hopefully, if the writing gods are willing, I can share it with you one day. I'm working it out in my journal and doing my best to get it out in the open. I truly believe that things in the open are more real and infinitely less scary and less powerful then they are when they are alone in your soul.
This weekend was Amos' birthday and, if I do say so myself, we did a damn fine job of saying goodbye to 28 and hello to 29. We smoked Cuban cigars, ate tuna poke and hamburgers and egg sandwiches and Nachos (not all at the same time, thankfully). We drank whisky and caught up on Mad Men; we hiked Mt. Yoro and saw bonsai trees and met delightful older Japanese folk who take hiking lunches more seriously than anyone else I've ever met, complete with stoves, blankets, and beer for a day hike, and for that, they will hold a special place in my heart. His birthday gifts included a 3D dinosaur card, wishing him a Happy Birthday in Hiragana, which, thankfully, he can read.
We're extending the birthday weekend a day and having a nice dinner at home tonight, drinking a bottle of wine we got at his last birthday, when we were on Whidby Island, and he was running a half marathon and I was talking him into walking around Langley and wine tasting. Today is technically his birthday is the States, so it feels only right to celebrate it one more night.
You guys, this weekend was so good. Exploring a country with my new husband has to be one of the best things life has thrown my way. Turns out I really like him. I want to share the beauty of our life here and the funny stories that come our way (like, instead of explaining where we're from, we just say, Se-at-tle ... like Ichiro! because then every Japanese person instantly knows where we live and is so excited that THEIR guy is our cultural touchstone.) I want to share the flip side, like how, for as excited as I am about Fridays (Amos gets to come home and plaayyyyyy), Mondays are a far lonelier beast. Mondays I miss my husband and I miss my career, and I miss my life back home, and I wish there was a reason I have to bound out of bed because I HAVE THINGS TO DO. Because, as lovely as this place is, it's not the home-home-home that I find back in the States. I don't mean to whine or bitch, my life is really good and I wouldn't change it in a heartbeat, but for every ying there's a yang and for every good there is an equal and opposite bad. That's what I've found to be true in the world, a hippie dippy take on the laws of thermodynamics (yea, I took science class in college.) Doesn't mean you should stop doing what you do, just means you should be grateful and remember that neither the good moments, or the bad, last forever. Both are important; both are real, and the sum of the two, I guess, is what we call life. If I might be so bold to take a stab at defining life for you this morning.
Happy Monday, my friends. Or, perhaps more accurately, happy and not happy Monday, all rolled into one.