#199 - Foreshadowing

"Sometimes a greater force sees a need to remind you of an impending failure just in time to prevent it."

While searching for MP3s today, I came upon a website belonging to a student somewhere in Michigan. As I looked through the list of random anime/J-pop MP3s he had for download there, I noticed that he had a link for his Journal. The link led to a journal he kept on his trip to Japan for a summer business internship.

Since I'm going probably at the end of the next summer and I had little to do at the time, I scrolled through and read most of it. It's somewhat remarkable to note all the little things he pointed out, but more important was the way he pointed out that he had quite a bit of difficulty speaking conversational Japanese while he was there. This is because he was always taught most of the formal stuff, which is apparently not used very much (I recall his mention that hardly anyone he met used hanasu, for example, but favored ...shaberu, I believe. It's a form used to indicate speaking, one of those ones that can be changed with different endings and such to make different meanings. I could get into this, but I don't have it memorized, so it would just be me copying from the lessonbook.)

To read that he had difficulty speaking Japanese didn't surprise me that much until I discovered that he had, on his resume page, spent six semesters studying the language at school. Here is roughly where the sense of impending doom came to me.

Granted, this could mean a lot of things. He could have taken one or two classes and then studied his notes over the period of six semesters of time, or he could have spent six semesters teaching himself with books like I'm doing but didn't really spend a lot of time on it, or he actually had the classes, but since it's not his major they didn't get the full attention that he could have spared? I don't know. I don't immediately buy into the numbers.

In any case, it's left me with a severe case of doubt just thinking about it. If this guy went to college and spent as much time as he said he was studying, what chance do I have to learn to speak it in a year, maybe less, particularly given the current rate of effort? Sure, I can sweettalk it all I want - "I listen to music and watch Japanese stuff so I'm constantly having the language thrown at me," or "I read through such and such section of the book once again and now I know it."

But do I really know any of it? I would guess that I have a better understanding right now than most of the people I know, possibly even Dave, but would I be anywhere near ready to use it in conversation? And will I be able to figure it out by then?

The only real solution to this is to just keep at it, I suppose. Force myself to divulge more effort, and use all the resources availiable to me. If this means I have to harass Mimi to type romanized japanese just so it forces me to look up how to respond to her, that's still better than nothing. Unfortunately, I don't have any friends who speak the language well enough to really practice it (really, Dave's the only one who would be even close, and he's still learning too.).

I really want to continue learning it though. My concern is whether or not I'll have learned it well enough by this time next year to actually be able to survive in Japan.

Maybe I worry too much, though. I could be making more progress than I know, at least with the basics.

In any case, I just have to continue working at it, and if possible, start making myself work at it more.

The 200th entry is coming up and I'm not planning anything special for it. The idea was to make a new layout or incorporate the blog somewhere or something, but I don't foresee that happening. I have no idea how to design a new layout, and no urge to really try.

Who knows.

~Don

#198 - Dream

"Was it all just a dream? Or maybe a vision...?"

I really should have typed this when I first got up, but like most dreams, you lose a firm grasp on the specifics as soon as your eyes open anyway. It was one of those dreams that felt so real with the exception of the way time passed, I could have believed it was really happening. Even then, whilst dreaming it, it was difficult to discern from reality.

For some reason, I was at this sort of ranch in the middle of nowhere. To call it a ranch is certainly not an accurate term - while it's appearance was most definitely of a ranch compound or something on the outside, it was actually quite different. Some sort of desert entertainment center or something, maybe. There was an outside bar, and all sorts of other "entertaining" type things ( there may have even been a miniature golf course, but again, the memory of it is vague.) Originally, my memory wanted to say I was working there, but I felt the urge to say that I was sort of stranded. Perhaps working there to work off a debt.

Most of the faces escape me, but the other 'character' of the story was a girl who showed up, either to work or to visit. She had shoulder length blonde hair and dark eyes and a pretty face, and was clearly near my age although somewhat diminuitive in stature. I can't recall her name, or how we met, or to most extents even what we did (it wasn't sexual in nature), but I remember throughout the majority of the dream that I had an overwhelming sense of happiness, or elation. Clearly I was in love, and I know she was in love with me. That was probably why I felt so happy.

All sorts of other things happened that I wish I could remember, most of which were almost romantic cliches. And then, she passed away, and the remainder of that section of the dream was unbearably sad. I viewed it in third person, watching others speak about how I had changed, decaying into a silent and sad man who worked as quickly as ever but barely breathed out loud. Some time passed and I recalled someone saying "Him? Oh, he's been dead for several years. Not dead dead, mind you, but he might as well be."

And it just sort of trailed out. Afterwards though, I remember a sudden urge to change it, and the 'good' ending played out. More happiness and elation, particularly every time her face was there. It moved onward a bit more until I remember her hand with a ring on it, and then I finally woke up.

Bizarre. It almost plays out like a game. I wish the details were clearer, because there was definitely much more to it than I'm able to describe. It's been...well, awhile, since I've felt that feeling of total elation, and I do so hope that I'll experience it again.

But yes, it's definitely a bizarre dream too. She also died, at one point, and I might as well have at the point too.

It's very difficult, however, to determine the meaning of such things. I imagine I'll ponder on it some more today, as it's been in the back of my head no matter what I do.

~Don

#197 - Illness

"You can bang your head into the desk as many times as you want, but it's not going to clear your sinuses."

Tonight's one of those nights that I write just for the sake of writing something. I've been dealing with sickness all week and it's been a rather unpleasant ride whenever I'm home, but I've been strangely active and somehow ignoring it when I'm doing so. I guess this should serve as some kind of inspiration for the next time I'm sick and I complain about not being able to do anything. Nonetheless, it probably isn't very smart of me to do so much while I'm ill. The dizziness alone should have swayed me from driving; the other stuff accompanying it should have deterred me from trying to do anything more.

Nonetheless, I went out for something every day except Thursday, which seemed to be the highpoint of my illness. I went to bed relatively early Wednesday night and slept very late Thursday morning (we're talking 11 or 11:30 here), and after sitting at the PC and playing Dark Cloud for a couple of hours, I crawled out of the chair and back into bed, where I slept a few more hours until dinner. I had anticipated this to keep me up to the wee hours of the morning, but strangely I fell asleep around 12:30...and once again slept until roughly 10:30 this morning.

This worked out, as I did not have to be at work until noon. I stumbled around there for a few hours, and then took myself over to Matt's for a big game of wiffleball. Not a bright idea, but I actually did fairly well.

Tuesday night after coming home from Vince's house was when it really set in; needless to say I'm glad Vince ended up having something else to do that night, because I managed to get home before it really desecrated what was left of my senses. I hope to have another day like that with Vince and Charlie sometime before Charlie goes to school - particularly the playing Dance Dance Revolution part, or the gaming in general. Hopefully this year, we'll get down there to visit him.

This entry is straying already, so I'm going to take the easy road out. Besides, if I go off-track too much, I'll have to come up with a more generic title, and the bathroom's finally free so I have no more time to kill. Bands For Benefit is tomorrow in Westminster. Probably a bit late to "pimp" the event here, but I've been doing so elsewhere. Hardly anyone reads my blog anymore anyway unless I direct them to do so for some reason or another.

I kind of like having my anonymity back, in a sense. You don't update for awhile and people stop checking, and now I don't feel so embarrassed to write again. At least, for the moment. Too bad it never translates into more entries, though. Justine, you need to motivate me to do this whenever you update yours, at least.

~Don