hannah.ananas

Normal or normal?

I guess that whatever we are accustomed to having around us, ends up being what feels like “normal” to us. Like how my life never seems to feel very exciting or special – it has become my experience of “normal”, and therefore can’t seem exceedingly exciting or abnormal to me.

I regularly feel as though everyone can speak loads of languages, and so I’m nothing but average (or even below average) in that field. But who are my acquaintances? Well, we tend to end up spending time with people who, in some way or other, are quite similar to ourselves, do we not? It is no wonder, then, that I have so many friends who are bi- and multilingual, and who have not only visited but lived in at least one country other than their own. This isn’t to say, of course, that all of my friends meet this criteria. Certainly not. I just happen to have a lot of friends who do.

So, when I have a night like tonight, where my friends and I sound to an on-listener like we can’t seem to pick a language, as we constantly switch around between English (our one common language), French, and Japanese, I all too easily forget that this is not normal in the world. Sure, it is normal for me and for my life, but that doesn’t mean that everyone does it regularly. It doesn’t even mean that half the world could do it regularly, even if they wanted to do so.

Or perhaps they could. I think, nonetheless, that I severely underappreciate my language abilities, by subconsciously expecting that the people who most closely surround me are an average sample of the whole. What is normal for one person simply is what is around that person in life. And two people with closely aligned lives might find the same things as one another to be normal. So, of course the people who are out doing the same things I live to do, tend to see the world in a similar way to how I see it, and hold a subconscious standard of “normal” that is similar to my own. That’s why our paths cross in the first place – we’re all into* this particular kind of awesome.

Filing a room with awesome people doesn’t mean that they aren’t all still awesome, just because the standard in the room is about equal. It just means that you have an extra-awesome room that is full of a ton of awesome people.

I guess what I am aiming to say here is that, despite my feeling below-average and utterly “normal” and boring at times, I realize now that I am not viewing things outside of my nearest surroundings (so to speak), and that I realize that I am, in fact, awesome. And I’m proud and happy about that.

Peace, y’all. ❤
Post-a-day 2017

Killer Khan

Tonight, I met a sweet old man named Ozawa Masashi (Masashi Ozawa in the American style of names). He is a monstrous 195cm (6’5″), with an incredibly sweet and open demeanor, and he owns a restaurant in Tokyo, where we ended up tonight after dancing. As I commented on how massively huge this restaurant owner was compared to the average Japanese person, I was informed that he was, in fact, a retired wrestler. Sure enough, photos inside the restaurant tell a black and white story of this man’s wrestling adventures Stateside in the 80s, with matches against André the Giant and the likes. Killer Khan is the name, and wrestling was his sport.

We ate his food (delicious), tasted the hard-to-get sake (fabulous), and enjoyed his happy talk about just about anything (including the facts that his son is about 208cm and looks like him, his daughter is a martial arts champion in the US, and that he himself spent a year in Dallas about 22 years ago). He even showed us photos.

We watched a small bit of one of his matches, and it was amazing to see this man in action, back in his days of wrestling. He was even more of a monster in terms of size, and the other guy in the ring paled in comparison. Frankly, Killer Khan was the epitome of ‘scary wrestler man’.

And now, here he his, across the world from his wife and kids, running a restaurant in downtown Tokyo. I am 100% not a wrestling fan, however, I am definitely a fan of Ozawa Masashi, this happy, massive, sweet old man, who likely hunches from habit with such low Japanese doorways, and who just so happened to be part of a lethal show 30-ish years ago.

Post-a-day 2017

when you stop and smell the flowers

Tonight, I’m just not feelin’ it…, though I’ll write anyway, and just make it quick.
Walking home, I stopped to smell these flowers (despite the fact that it was near one AM already, and I was exhausted [still am, too]) I was passing. I read this thing on the inside of, I believe, a Dove chocolate wrapper, and it said, “Take time to smell the flowers.” Somehow, it translated to, ‘Take time to stop and smell the flowers,’ and has stuck with me as such ever since then. I make particular notice whenever I see flowers and feel as though I don’t have the time to stop, and I re-evaluate how I am living my life each time I see flowers and am reminded of this line (almost every time they look pretty).

So, tonight was no exception. I stopped and smelled these flowers, flowers I had yet to notice during he daytime. And, would you believe it? They smelled like popcorn. Buttery popcorn, though only lightly buttered, came in through my nostrils at every flower. They might even have been a sort of roses. White, popcorn roses. It was spectacular, and I don’t even particularly like the smell of buttery popcorn.

Post-a-day 2017

Uh-oh, Ramen

I feel a little bit like I was part of the film “Legally Blonde” tonight. Remember how Elle said that a sorority sister of hers threw up on a guy on their first date, and they ended up engaged/married? (It was something very similar to that, anyway.) Well, tonight, meeting up with a guy for the first time (outside of just seeing one another at work, and Maybe exchanging a word or two), something in that same category went down. In a sense, anyway… you can judge for yourself, if you think it really is in the same category of events.

We met up to go look at these really cool buildings, with artwork all on the sides of them, done by this one particular artist. As we were finishing up, we decided to go get some food together. We settled on ramen, as it is kind of the go-to food in Japan, and I’m usually okay eating it. However, for whatever reason, this ramen decided to disagree with me more than usual. Much more than usual, in fact.

As I explained that my typical US diet was one that included veggies, fruits, seeds, and nuts almost exclusively, and no meat, fish, or grains, my new acquaintance started apologizing to me. ‘No, no… it’s okay. Really. I’m used to it.’

Except that it kept getting worse as we walked around the neighborhood, headed for the riverbank. When we reached the riverbank, I had to lie down on the ground, my stomach was is such a miserable state. After another minute or two, I suddenly changed my mind on the offer of a bathroom, and said that I needed one asap. Hurry, please! I thought, as I focused on breathing deeply, he continuously asked me if I was alright, and little pebbles (from my lying on the ground) shoved their ways lower and lower down my pant legs.

We finally made it to the grocery store. I told him to shop a while, we both chuckled, and I practically ran to the bathrooms. I tell you, I almost cried while in there, so bad was the pain in my stomach. I have no idea what was in that ramen, but it was one of the worst things I’ve had to eat since living here (in terms of effects on my body).

And, of course, I had to have this happen while spending time with this new guy. Good thing I’m not too big on looking good and first impressions being amazing or anything. This was just plain ridiculous. However, he had an amazing attitude about the whole thing. And that’s how it reminded me of Legally Blonde. Rather than push us apart, it felt as though my mini illness actually brought us together – we made it through the hardship together, you know?
Anyway, that’s that. And it might have even been a date (according to my Japanese girlfriends). 😛
Post-a-day 2017

my kind of friends

I miss having friends like myself. Life is just so much more exciting when they’re around.

Tonight, I found out that a friend was on his way home on the train. I knew his route, so far as trains were concerned, and his final station was a small one, with only one exit. So, even though we have plans to meet tomorrow evening, I thought I’d surprise him tonight. I got two different types of tea (green and milk), cold from the store, and headed to his station. Based on where he was when he had last mentioned to me that he was on his way home, I would be just in time to meet him, and I might possibly beat him by a good ten minutes to his station.

I was already on the first train he could have taken home, and he didn’t seem to be on that one. So, once I arrived to his station, I checked out the exit options – yes, there is only one – and then found a place to settle down and read on the platform.

Almost an hour later, I am on my way home, still carrying both teas. He didn’t show. I don’t know what happened, and I likely won’t ever know, because we don’t entirely speak the same language. And I think I really don’t mind so much that he didn’t show. It’s more just that the whole thing made me miss my especially close friends, the ones who would have known that I was waiting at the station for them, simply because I had asked where they were beforehand.

The thing is, I don’t do well with packing. I’m not sure what is in the way of it for me, but I almost always seem to resist packing. I so desperately want to get myself packed up, and like right now, right now. But I’ve been unsuccessful in doing that for the past three-ish weeks already.

The worst part of it this time is that it is stressing me out extremely, and I still can’t seem to get over whatever it is, and just pack. So instead, I get to be stressed and to think of all hear things I miss and of all the things that drive me nuts here.

That’s all I have to say about that right now.
Post-a-day 2017

Adding to the Bucket List?

“It’s not ON my bucket list.”

“Well, then add it right now.”

We laugh. I consider, and then accept. We all take a photo or video or two, and then Richard asks, “Who’s first?”

“I am,” I say.

“Okay, are you ready?”

“No, but go ahead anyway.”

As the suction cups grabbed hold of my tongue’s taste buds, I reacted with small and sudden shudders, but kept calm and chewed away. Thank you, God, for allowing me the gift that is my life, such that I be granted this experience. Thank you for the gift of this animal, and thank you for the camaraderie and friendship that its life has developed within this group of people with me now. The taste and texture were quite acceptable, and the only movement I noticed was due to the fact that it kept grabbing my tongue in different spots, somewhat sporadically, with it’s tiny suction cups. And then the live squid was no longer live, and it went into my stomach.

Only one other person (I believe) had the suction cups grab at his tongue, but most everyone tried a bit of this wriggling, writhing squid that somehow reminded me of maggots – a fact I happened to mention aloud just as we were about to begin tasting.

So, that was a fun thing to add to and then check off of my bucket list. The mental one, anyway. I actually have a written one here at home. It’s rather in-depth, I think, and I only occasionally have anything to add to it, as I spent so much time initially thinking things through as I began the list in the first place. Anyway, straying from the topic…

Another thing that I suppose I unintentionally added to and then checked off of my bucket list was changing clothes.

We were doing a little tour around town (Seoul, South Korea), and that was the reason for the squid in the market. Before we arrived to the market, however, I found that I much needed to lose my pants and to switch to my shorts. We were walking outdoors and in the sunlight a bit more than I had expected. However, I had prepared by putting my shorts at the very top of my bag, for easy access.

My being who and how I am, and thinking as I do, I had already considered various ways for me to change into shorts, should the need arise. Therefore, as we were going through the subway station, I announced to a girlfriend that I needed to change into my shorts, and what did she think? We were easily on the same wavelength, and she lent me her sweater that she’d been wearing around her waist. I tied her sweater around the back, and my own around the front, making a sort of two-toned skirt-type garment.

Standing in front of two of our guys, – and I must say that it seemed to me that they were rather unaware of the events unfolding directly in front of them – I calmly and quickly defrocked my lower half (shoes included), handed the pants to the girlfriend, slid up my shorts, and slipped on my shoes. It was a beautiful and near-flawless performance on both our parts, the girlfriend’s and mine. Essentially, it was just about perfect. The only thing that could have improved the matter, would have been someone’s noticing that I had been in pants before, but was in shorts the rest of the day. However, it was still worth the fun for the two of us, despite no one else’s having noticed anything… at all. 😛

Anyway, this feels to be poorly expressed, but I feel myself to be in a somewhat poorly state – think extreme exhaustion. Therefore, I accept this story-telling as it is. I hope you still enjoyed it, despite my feelings of its being utterly insufficient. Peace and love. Beware of squid suction cups, and go do something fun and crazy for yourself this week.

Post-a-day 2017

How to go home

I feel like I am going insane right now abouts. I was talking with a new acquaintance today, and I came to saying that I think I am afraid of going back home to the US, after I’ve gone through so much development and transformation as I have this past year (with all the depression and life experiences and all here).

I really think that I am afraid of being myself as I know myself to be now. Or rather, … well… I’m afraid of being myself and being rejected, unwanted. However, I think I already deal with that in the first place, and I have for a good chunk of my life. So, that’s nothing new, then. Therefore, I can keep that same concern as always, and just be myself anyway. This way, I am fulfilled in who and how I am, and the people who do love me get to love me for who I truly am.
Sounds good to me. Let’s do this, banana.
Post-a-day 2017

What’s my type??

People always seem to ask me my type. Possibly, this is more of a recent thing, as it is one of the top questions Japanese high school students ask, and I don’t really remember having considered the question’s answer more than once or twice before this past year. Nonetheless, it has been on my mind for quite some time now.

The deal is that I have never really known a type for my own interests. I find attractive to be attractive. Period. However, I have been recently distinguishing even further the difference between being attracted to someone and that of wanting to be with someone. On this distinguishing inquiry, I have at last found one definite common factor between men when I instantly find attractive, and with whom I always want to develop a relationship of some sort (even just a friendship), and often actively pursue. That factor? Being tall. It’s not that I don’t find men I average height to be attractive – I definitely do find them quite attractive on a regular basis. However, I tend to have a quite strong desire at least to be around handsome men who are also tall. I have found shorts men to be handsomer than taller men, and yet the taller attractive guy always holds my attention much better.
Just something I discovered/noticed this weekend.
Post-a-day 2017

Dance breakthroughs

Tonight, I had a breakthrough. Rather than be embarrassed and feel like a lazy fool, I took on a pointedly new mentality, and I did an amazing job dancing in contest. I was so comfortable and pleased with the dances afterward (including after watching the videos), that I realized how I didn’t even mind how we placed in the final ranking.

It was and still is a wonderful feeling. I competed in a level that joined my level and the level above me, – which is usually the case – and I was incredibly happy with my dances.

However, it is 7:27am, so I’ll go to bed and to sleep now. Sweet dreams, all. I’ll count sheep in my sleep, now that I’ve been to the sheep cafe.
Post-a-day 2017

Still Awake at 6am

I’m sitting on the bathroom floor, eating bagel-shaped bread (that is not a bagel), stretching, occasionally gulping water, and writing this. My two roommates are asleep already, it is 6:05am, and I have spent the past many hours dancing.

The ballroom sort of closed around 4:30, but I was having such a great time dancing, I didn’t want the music and dancing to stop. Plus, I hadn’t gotten to dance with one friend who was still there, and I had been wanting to dance with him since I’d first seen him at the dance event earlier tonight. So the DJ – he also happens to be the event director – said that just the friend and I would be dancing, and everyone else would watch (seeing as the ballroom was closing and all), and announced us as though we were a couple in a competition from earlier tonight.

For whatever reason, everyone, as they gathered around in the floor, ended up encircling us, and stretching out their legs so that they formed a very large star around us on the floor. As we danced, they clapped along and cheered us on. When we finished, everyone agreed that another couple needed to dance, now that we had started this whole contest idea. The DJ, glorious in his will to be ever-spontaneous in order to suit the current situation, allowed and rolled with the idea.

So, another couple danced, and we cheered them on. And we went through all five couples sitting on the floor, plus the one girl who had been recording, over to the side. One of the other girls and I traded off dancing with her, since the DJ declared that he had to remain DJing. (Cough-cough, though really I enjoyed getting to lead in his place.)

We didn’t do an all-skate at the end (where all the couple dance one song together). Most everyone was too tired. But that’s okay. We had an amazing Superstar dance contest in the middle of a human star, and that’s more than fine with me. 😛
Post-a-day 2017