There's something bizarre about this price.

It's Golden Week in Japan and there are a lot of fesivals going on. I don't know much about the significance of what's in them, and much like Japanese food, neither do the Japanese people I've talked to. It seems to be another excuse to drink heavily in the middle of the day...but this time with streamers and kimonos. I'm sure there is much much more to it than that, but I have yet to figure it out. I'll keep you posted.

In the meantime, I met up with the girls today: Tracey, Crystelle (the accent goes on the second syllable and she's not afraid to tell you), Megan and Karen. We all went to a cafe and tawked, which was really nice. It was also a bit bizarre and I found myself quiet most of the time. Especially when we got to the Reality Shows. It's strange. Many of my friends in San Francisco bawk at Reality Shows (save the occasional Survivor) and pride themselves in killing televisions. Now, don't get me wrong. I have strong opinions about the mass media, the lies they tell, the images they portray and the stories they don't cover. What's my point...well, it was an odd experience to be around people who get so excited about "reality tv". They know all of the shows. It was also a little strange to them, for me to be the only American in the joint *and* the one who wasn't in the know. If I were in the states and didn't know about "The Wall", eyebrows raise. I'm in Koriyama and didn't know about the Donald Trump be-my-assistant-or-somthing show, and jaws dropped. Well, I guess you just can't please everyone and who wants to anyway. (When our background music turned to a techno version of the Price is Right theme song, my eyebrows raised and I think my jaw dropped a little.) Then the conversation turned to Guchi, Coach, and names of men I can't remember. Again...I was pretty quiet.

The rest of the afternoon, Tracey and I went "antiquing". We drove a long while down a windy road. I truly wonder how she ever found this place! There were ancient Japanese pipes, vintage jewlery, clothes and shoes, furniture, kimonos, zippos you name it. Everytime I looked at a piece, I wondered about its history and how it got there in that ole' junkyard in the middle of nowhere. Maybe I just inherited my papa's gene that gravitates to garage sales. Anyway, I can't wait to go back.