A friend of mine lives here in a very old apartment with no appliances whatsoever, and a semi-outhouse for a bathroom. There is no actual bath or shower. He's got newspaper out there instead of tp, not that he can't afford it but maybe to retain a rustic quality? I went to try out this hole-in-the-dirt toilet, and the already-torn piece of newspaper waiting to be used had a headline that read: George Bush Will Unite Nation for Real This Time, as if it had been written by a ten year old. The apartment itself is in a very shantytown area of this little city, apparently an area that escaped some bombing way back, and so is still in the style of dirt alleyway upon dirt alleyway, so that people's homes are only accessible by foot.

For my upcoming long journey, I thought it would be best to pack as lightly as possible, except for the guitar I am learning how to play, so I went to the 100 yen shop (truly an amazing place, seriously) and bought the tiniest, lightest journal I could find, planning to write in very small letters during my travels. Last week I got a Christmas package from my mom, in which I found the coolest, and also the heaviest, journal I have ever gotten, with a card saying, I thought you might like to keep a log of your journey home. It must weigh over two pounds, but I've decided, or rather it has been decided, that it will come with me. Why not?

I dreamt I was was on site in Petaluma at the making of Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds, only they hadn't started filming yet, but there was a particularly dangerous crow with a Japanese name, walking with determination on a riverbank. It wasn't scary though.