The Body Pillow Chronicles: Week 1

If you are a casual acquaintance, a Facebook friend, or simply an unfortunate individual on my mother’s “my daughter does cool things too” email list, you are probably aware by now that I am currently residing in Oh My God Why is it So Cold Here, Japan. Otherwise known as, Guys, Insulation is a Thing That Happened A While Ago. Or more commonly, Kyoto. 

Proof I am in fact here. Because where else would this happen?

Today, I asked my Chinese housemate about the word “insulation,” to which he replied, “That word does not exist in the Chinese language.” Two words: UNTAPPED MARKET. Also, ENGLISH DICTIONARY. Get on that. 

Alternately, one thing that America should get on (specifically my college, but after they decide to go above 0.5-ply toilet paper) are heated toilet seats. It’s like heated car seats, but makes more sense because “covering up” in cold weather and “going to the bathroom” are mutually exclusive (if someone can contest this theory I will love them forever).

My general feelings for dorm toilet paper.

 The toilet seats are heated here, and have a plethora of amazing options such as “toilet music” and a bidet function (which I will never try but feel classier just knowing about), thus I have decided I will now travel entirely by heated toilet-Gundam. Do not question my logic. I am convinced these toilets are much more advanced than American smart-phones.  

Liz Lemon, are you familiar with moe relationships? Because James Franco can keep his body pillow, "it's complicated" for me and this heated toilet seat.

Speaking of which, I still need to go to a Ward Office here to let them know that I am an alien, and am, in fact, residing in their country. I would also like them to take me to their leader and give me my Alien Registration Certificate so I can go buy an expensive prepaid phone and stop acting like I’m living in 1995. Perhaps then I can buy a phone with heated toilet functionality. A girl can dream.

She cannot, however, go to the park near her house because although “Kyoto is very safe,” children’s parks become the domain of thieves and perverts when night falls. Or so my apartment manager tells me. 

Indeed.

Important words to know for daily usage:

"hanakuso" - formed with the words for "nose" and "shit," this charming word translates to "snot." Or more delicately, "nasal discharge."

"dorobo" - burglar, thief. As in, "don't go to that park, it is full of dorobo" or more recently, my Sensei's reaction to me borrowing a cup from the cafeteria. 

Thanks, Japan. 

Here, Let Me Google That For You

 

Hey lovelies, I know it’s been a while, but I have Internet access and that shit is distracting.  I would show you a screen shot of the amount of tabs I have open but I’m lazy and that’s sort of weird, so no.

Speaking of weird, I inexplicably have a Twitter, and let me just say – some bizarre stuff happens on Twitter. Kanye West, mostly. But specifically, I am now being followed by someone with the username “Cat_Owners”. I have no idea why these things happen to me.

Someone actually took the time to make this.

The worst part about Twitter is that if I venture beyond the cozy circle of comedians, sci-fi writers, and accounts for random Internet memes (even though the account for Big Ben just says “gong,” I still think we’ve made a palpable connection) that I’ve created for myself, NO ONE CAN SPELL. When half of the trending hashtags manage to be both racist and misspelled, all I want to do is curl up in a little ball and have Big Ben hold me. #thingsblackfolkscarredof was both scary and scarring.

So majestic.

The spelling thing is unendingly frustrating, and unfortunately not sequestered in the quasi-dead space of Twitter. No, my friends, despite that little dotted red line kindly provided by your advanced and new-fangled Internet browser-contraption, words like “wierd,” “experiance,” and “relevent” are a staple of the average Facebook newsfeed perusal (I hope you all appreciate these examples because I’ve had to auto-correct them back to these mangled states at least three times each – see how easy it is to spell things correctly, people?). 

This is serious business.

When I encounter these atrocities, for the most part, my eye simply twitches a little and I go on with my day. But what REALLY irks me is when the word-mangler in question misspells something, and then, as if this makes it all better, puts a cute little  “(sp?)” after said offender. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU DO YOU NOT SEE THE GOOGLE SEARCH BAR IN THE UPPER RIGHT HAND OF YOUR BROWSER?

I don't know why people think I'm an angry person.

Alternately, apparently “daiquiri” is in the top 100 most often misspelled words which is both entirely understandably and weirdly frequent for a word like daiquiri.

They never buy a girl mozzarella sticks.