French Fries

I had better eat them before they get cold.

That opening line stared at me in envy while I ate. It was, after all, facing me on the screen of my netbook. Aside from successfully ordering food just now, I feel little today has been accomplished. I’ve recently dealt with a bit of rejection from people who really don’t know me, but find themselves in positions that allow them to critique and reprimand me. In the most recent case, it was hypocritical.

Not every post in this blog will be pleasant.

Earlier today, I was at “work.” I sometimes feel that using that word in relation to my employment leads people to believe that I actually have a profession right now. So, in the quotes it goes. Anyway, I personally work on the basis that people earn respect and trust. Somewhere along the line, however, both my PS (Performance Supervisor) and the people over at Matador U (part of Matador Travel) felt that neither respect nor trust were necessary when critiquing me. It’s as if they’re too busy to get to know me, but not too busy to tell me off.

As you may know, I’m taking an online writing course to improve what some believe is a talent. Every week, there is an opportunity to post a piece of work for critique, and in one week’s time, receive feedback from an editor or two. I submitted one such piece from this blog that was written earlier this summer about the P2C adventure in Kentucky I was a part of. The feedback I got was that it wasn’t marketable, and that he (one editor) didn’t feel he could give me anything to work with because it wasn’t something I could sell. Another editor said the same. To them, I say:

<< I realize that posting either rant about Matador or Rachel doesn't do me any good now that I've written them, so here instead is a sentence to say that it's irrelevant. >>

So, on my way home, I’m thinking about these things, and how, despite the enthusiasm I try to carry for being somewhere new and challenging, my spirits were being brought down by people so truly insignificant to my life as a whole. “Screw it. I’m not going to let her ruin my night.” And so, I didn’t. But, as luck would have it, about that time my tired started to hiss. Yup, I popped my front tire on who knows what, but it was a rough bump with two sharp edges (I got two holes very close to each other, like I hit a *really* well-placed staple).

“Are you serious?” I asked/yelled aloud. Yup, it was serious alright. So, to a halt I came in 30 or so feet. I’ve never had a flat front tire (but I have had several flat rear tires; four in the past three years now that I think about it). I walked the bike across the street to a well-lit gas station. Lately I’ve not been carrying my pump. Guess what I didn’t have on me? Guess who’s also got a type of valve that no one but a cyclist would recognize? Yup, that’s me. But at least one thing went well; I did have the pump on me. :D

So, I rolled… err… walked up, and very roughly asked if I could use the overhead light to repair my flat (read: when the attendant asked me what I wanted, I gestured to the light and then back to my flat tire, pinching it to demonstrate my situation). These two guys at the station were so nice, offering me water to find the hole in the inner tube, holding it while I repaired it, and then waiting as I pumped it back up. They even made attempts at conversing with me. It was so good to meet nice people after a day like today. Such customer service (especially for someone who wasn’t buying anything!) is unheard of back home.

Anyway, after repairing the flat, I made my way towards home, ready to put the day behind me. “You know what? I’m going to get a little comfort food. I don’t ever eat there, but where’s a McDonald’s when you need one?” Apparently, it’s right around the corner. So, that’s where I am now; writing from the netbook I brought for “work” today but never used. For a while during my writing tonight, I felt like I could tone the world out and pretend I was somewhere familiar. An oddly-light version of “Danny Boy” was playing in the background, and I was in a fast food joint.

I can’t say that I miss home in the way that most people would; I don’t miss the high taxes, riced-out Civics, my last job, or the egocentric general disinclination towards learning about people around the world (though that attitude exists here a great deal, too). However, I do miss not being constantly challenged like I am here. Sure, family is far away, but for the most part, since I didn’t really see most of them while I was in town, the frequency with which I see them doesn’t appear to have changed yet. It does suck to not be able to hang with my friends, or see my grandfather, however. I hope he’s doing well, and I think about him very often.

To conclude the post, perhaps what I’m expressing is hyper-sensitivity to criticism based on the already higher stress of being new to Japan? Is it of any ironic value that tomorrow I am giving a presentation on culture shock, and my definition is that it’s a form of stress?

Take care, and soon I shall put up several more (positive) entries. Also, I’ve opened a Flickr account so I can share my photos with those not on Facebook. Good night.

(long) Addendum: After leaving McDonald's, I knew my headlight's battery was about dead. "Hmm... that can't be good," I calmly said to myself. I was a good distance away from my apartment. Now, I had to make decisions on when to use the light, and when I could afford to ride in the dark. There were really no long stretches where I could afford to not use the light, so timing came down to traffic. Sometimes if I had a long straight, I would stop for a minute to rest so that I could sprint on the bike, using as little battery as possible. Like any good Boy Scout, I was prepared: I had my charger with me. But, like an idiot, I didn't charge it while at "work."

Oh well. Eventually, the light got pretty dim. At that time, I wasn't sure if I could be seen, because I couldn't see the light illuminating the street. I took the sidewalk when there was traffic. But, along the way, I crossed a mechanic's garage. WAIT!! What was that?! No, no, no... that surely wasn't 6 Nissan Skyline GT-Rs parked there. ... But it was.

For those that don't know, the Skyline is a highly-tunable car from Nissan produced from 1957 to the present in various incarnations from luxury sedan to high-performance coupe (the GT-R), incorporating such advanced ideas as four-wheel steering as early as 1989. Until the past three years, it wasn't sold in the US as the Skyline GT-R (it was brought over as an Infinity G35 in 2001, but that's not the same as the sportier GT-R), and was a major "lust" car for tuners and enthusiasts alike. So, to see a lot of them, all cleanly-kept, with a laundry list of modifications, was something I had to stop for.

As luck would have it, another gaijin (foreigner) who owned an R32 (1989 to 1991 model years) was there, too, talking in fluent Japanese to the owner. So, I took a few photos (Yay for having my camera with me!) and a video or two after stopping to talk shop and cars with the guys for over two hours. By this time, it was closing on 23:20, and I had left "work" at 18:00. I got home by 00:05, and promptly passed out.

So, the day that would otherwise have been not good turned out to be pretty sweet. The end.

Flickr Address: Click Here

These photos are the same as on Facebook, but for those that don't use it, or who aren't my friend (yet).