Valentine’s day fast approaches, at least for those who care about such things. I personally think it’s great gimmick, along the lines of “Hey, let’s make ANOTHER day where people will have to get stuff for each other, and we can make money selling cards and candies.”

Not that I have anything against the idea of exchanging gifts, mind you. I just don’t like it when someone/some entity tells me that i ought to do it. Even when it might be beneficial or a nice thing to do. Take, for example, my situation yesterday at a supermarket. It was crazy busy, for whatever reason, and a throng of shoppers were clogging the checkout lanes. I only needed a pack of noodles, and there I was, eyeing the long lines of people with a mountain of groceries. You’d think there was a hurricane imminent.

While lost in my own thought about the weather, the economy and the exchange rate, this random girl addresses me.

“Hey!”
I blink at her puzzled. Is she talking to me? I formulate the only reasonable reply.
“What?”
She points at my pack of noodles and says “Put it here.” Gesturing to a spot in front of her. Again I say,
“What?”
She seemed a little exasperated, and says “Since you only have one thing, you can go in front.”

Generally, I would think it’s a nice gesture to your fellow shopper to allow them to go in front of you when the other guy’s carrying only a few items, but I suppose what kind of upset me was her attitude and an air of smug superiority. What, just because you happened to be in a spot in front of me, you think you can dictate where I stand in the line? Couldn’t she be a little more polite in offering me a space in front of her?

I suppose that’s the way I feel about Valentine’s day or even Christmas, for that matter. Yes, it’s nice to give gifts and receive them, but if it comes at a cost of a pushy girl telling you where to put your groceries, or, in this case, card companies and department stores telling you that you need to buy presents, I’d rather do without.

But, most people don’t feel this way, and they see Valentine’s day as a festive day to get some fattening stuff for their sweetheart.

In Takashimaya department store in Tokyo, there is a shop called “Q-pot” that sells chocolate jewelry for the V-day. We’re talking about rings and… uh, chocolate tiaras.

from Spluch

There’s just something about being in japan that turns me from a sedate, normally healthy(well, not mentally) person into a nicotine craving maniac. Is it just me? Or is it the fact that the japanese streets are littered with cigarette vending machines with uncountable variety of coffin nails? Or, perhaps, unlike everything in japan, for whatever reason, a pack of smokes is cheaper than dirt.

I have a conferssion to make. Sometimes, picking a cigarette to buy is like choosing candy. They all look so good and delicious! And i became hopelessly addicted to (coincidentally) cigarettes called “hope”.

It only comes 10 sticks to a box, and short ones at that. But boy howdy, are they potent. If you aren’t man enough to smoke the regular ones(in blue box,) get yourself “lights” in red boxes. I suppose i’m not much of a friend, as i picked up a carton at the FA SO LA narita duty free to distribute to my friends. “yo, mang, it’s nice to see you. Here, i’ve picked up a few boxes of life-shortener for you!”

Hope, with its 10 per pack, is perfect for a neurotic nicotine junky like me. See, my guilt conscience goes into an overdrive whenever i dig around in my pocket for some coinage to stuff into a vending machine.

“Yeah, this is it. Last pack of smokes i’ll ever buy. After i finish this pack, i will exercise, stop eating takoyaki, and ride the bicycle instead of the 5 minute train ride. Hm, i wonder if the bicycle even works anymore? Will old ladies laugh at me for riding the bike holding an umbrella? Yeah, anyway, this is the last pack.”

I have this conversation with myself everytime i’m at a vending machine. The whole time thuggish japanese kids are behind me, tapping their foot impatiently.

My favorite brand used to be “7-stars”. Damn, these were delicious pack of fags. I think there were also “REVO” version, although i can’t remember for sure anymore. The thing that made me quit cold puffing, temporarily, anyway, was the fact that one afternoon after i’d bought a pack, and smoked maybe two or three, i got sick.

It’s just a common variety cold, mind you, but damn it all, if it wasn’t the most vicious viral ass kicking i’ve ever received. At night i’d shiver so much the bed would move a few inches, and in the morning, i’d feel like someone was punching me from inside out.

I went to the clinic, of course. And described to the “doctor” (i think he was… he was wearing a white coat) that i think i have some kind of voodoo cold and i felt like, well, dying. He does what doctors do, that is, depress my tongue with his used up stick from his popsicle, nods his head gravely and says,

“Influenza.”

Really? So this is how i go out? Influenza? Didn’t like, couple of billion people die from some kind of influenza epidemic? Little did i know in my ignorance that what americans call “flu” is just short for “influenza”. Damn, i wasted all that anxiety for nothing.

Well, he did prescribe some suspicious cocaine-looking powder, and some other sundry drugs. Not really able to understand the kanji, i just swallowed a handful. Take that, virus.

Anyway, back to the cigarettes.

So now i’ve kicked the nasty habit, and instead, have moved onto a better form of nicotine delivery vehicle, namely, nicorettes. These babies rock. You can chew them anytime, even next to a newborn baby, and at most people suspect you of having a nice minty breath. And, if you put it in your crack pipe and smoke it, man… the high is indescribable. Okay, not really.

To those of you needing to curb your barbaric habit, here’s a device that puts your cancer sticks under a lock down, opening only after a prescribed time has elapsed. A nice way to dole out your tar and carbon monoxide, eh, guv’nor? The website even says it’s a great way to ration out snacks like chocolate and crystal meth, as a diet tool, you see.

from konna

覚

Kun-yomi: おぼ（える、さ（ます）、さ（める）
[obo-eru, sa-masu, sa-meru]

On-yomi: カク [kaku]

覚える: [oboeru] to remember or to memorize

目覚まし時計- めざましどけい [me za mashi do kei] an alarm clock
感覚- かんかく [kan kaku]: sense, or a sensation

an ultra man mezamashi dokei