Daikon Head

I'm on an A-Z movie list spree, and the other night the lottery fell on "H."

I have a strange infatuation with Miyazaki Hayao films- they're reminiscent of my sojourn to Japan, totoro's and all. "Howl's Moving Castle" had many of the themes common to other Miyazaki films, like redemption, Victorian clothing, and wonderous air balloons (so far they're up one against Ferrari).

But a hopping scarecrow with a turnip for a head? That won me for sure.

My family is not a bunch that takes to anime so well, and understandably so: with Dragonball Z and Power Rangers (they're fake enough for the category) as their only contact with the industry- in fact, with Japanese pop culture in general besides cuddly Godzilla or run-ins on my humble collection of J-Pop- I'm in no position to boo and point my finger of Kamehameha destruction.

I still remember a time when Katri dressed up in rag-tag fashion and spiked her hair and called herself "Dragonball Z." I still get teased for my love affair with Pokemon that turned salty like soy sauce. I still adore Pikachu. I still crave tonkatsu and donburi, tsukemono and the occasional natto. I still love my kawaiimono (Rilakkuma's lounging in the closet).

I still embody #58 of Stuff White People Like, with a few exceptions:

I had sushi at Furusato's in Waikiki yesterday. That was better sushi than the stuff I could afford in the big J, and

I don't have much of a desire to teach English over there. I did it for free, and I don't need to do it again.

But yeah, I do kind of ruin it for everyone else.

Forks

One step is followed by step followed by another toward someplace I ought to go.

Then I come across a fork in the road- two paths diverged, or three- and comes the decision to be made: left, or right, or straight?

Only, if I could only travel all three- just to walk and see what lies yonder that rock, hill, nook, cranny, tree.

But to plod along then backtrack is no way to go- forks lead to forks of forks. There's only one of me, and one of my destination-to-be, and one of a one-of-a-kind life- not three.

Besides, my feet are sore.

Left, right, or straight?

Onward it is then,

and I step-
followed by step followed by step

followed by choice.

Chopsticks... check!

rice... check!
sour-kraut... potent!
creative juice... where's 7/11 when you need it?

If I were an anthropology major, I would do a study on the migration from facebook to blogspot. I appreciate the former's services, but couldn't resist the personalization. Gmail gets another A+ for their ninja theme.
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Now begins the feast. I'm Jokke, and I will be your server today. I won't bore you with the usual introductory material- you're here to eat.