I'm happy to say I've grown out of a "picky eater" phase which plagued more than a couple decades of my life; I think living in Japan has put a lid on that altogether.
Today, I ate jellyfish tentacles:
I've eaten plenty o' interesting things here, but this goes in the top 10. Along with octopus (straight up, with suction cups tentacles and all), asparagus mousse, and a variety of gelatinous deserts.
The jellyfish tasted kind of salty - and were slippery, crunchy and jelly all at the same time. Because food, after all, is not just about taste, but so much about texture.
Summers in Japan are... interesting. I can honestly say I'm appreciative of this time in my life where if I want to spend hours a day reading and watching DVDs, I can. Although I maintain a part time job, it becomes awfully difficult to work in solitude for more than a few hours each day. When people think of not having to work, I think visions of childhood summer vacations dance through their heads and they draw up feelings of a permanent long lazy weekend. Hammock naps, hiking in the afternoon and barbecues at night. But I don't think many people in their adult life (without children to tend to) understand what it would be like to permanently have nothing but time on your hands. What would you do with a permanent vacation where none of your family or friends from home were with you? This is not a "woe is me" blurb but rather one girl's perspective.If I'm not careful, I stay in my house for days and go without hearing a real human voice (although I have dreamy characters like Mr. Darcy, Chuck, Titus Pollo, Jacob Black, etc to keep me in very good company). So I purposefully do things like only get one book from the library at a time or get groceries that will last only a day or two - reserved actions that essentially force me to get out of the house. The fact that I have to calculate such maneuvers is a testament to feeling caged at times, but my hermit-like tendencies are no one's burden but my own. There are plenty of lovely people and opportunities around here and I take advantage of such things regularly. Its the "in between time" that makes time pass so slowly and yet so quickly. Its easier to question these feelings and actions in the hot muggy months of summer here - the kind where your movements are sluggish as your limbs try to slice through the heavy air. Enjoying the outdoors would ease the caginess, but its difficult when beads of sweat form upon opening my front door. It reminds me of a favorite line from comedian Kevin James:You know, when you're a fat guy you don't need a reason to sweat. Guys come up to me and go "Jeez... what have you been doing - jumping rope in the attic or something?"..."Umm, no... I peeled an orange about an hour ago, why?"Replace the fat guy stuff with "You know your living in Japan in the Summer when you don't need a reason to sweat..." Feelings are different in the Spring and the Fall when I can comfortably get back to long walks along the back roads and neighborhoods of Japan, exploring the differences... and appreciating the similarities.
