Current mood:	weird
Current music:	キセキ--GReeeeN

Beer Break
So, having safely returned from Japan, I find myself in a complete surreal state of mind.

That first semester was an extravaganza of Japanese speaking, karaokeing, alcoholic dementia, getting a handjob, getting hit by a car, taking off my pants at inappropriate times with disturbing frequency, and just flat-out fun. Words would do poor service in any attempt on my part to articulate what a great time I had. Obviously, as is typical of the weirdo in me, my main goals were to make a load of Japanese friends and make strides in the language I have studied maniacally for the past five years. Both of these goals were accomplished, but because I am returning next semester, are still in progress and so I choose to write about something else instead.

The program I studied under, JSP, provided me with an experience I hadn't really known before in Japan. Of course I had spent a lot of time there before, but not with a daily routine and lifestyle I was forced to adapt to. As a result, even though my priority was to get involved as much as possible with Japanese people, a lot of camaraderie was formed between the JSP students. It's a strange feeling, waking up in my own bed and knowing I can't just walk out the door to the lounge and see everyone I've been hanging out with for four months. I can't go on a beer run, go to karaoke, or just BS around with what have turned into some of the closest friends I've had. I was a total mess when I left for Japan, but a group of people like this is what got me on track. So I'm very grateful for the experience.

Part of the problem, of course, is the basis of reverse culture shock. I myself as a person have changed, but things back home have stayed exactly the same. This is what makes my return so frustrating--I went through a gigantic experience that I can't possibly communicate to anyone. Of course people will say "How was Japan? Tell me all about it!" But all they really want you to say is "It was good." They'll tolerate maybe a story or two, but for the most part no one really cares. I don't blame them, quite frankly, because there's no way they could completely appreciate what I wanted to say unless they shared that experience. The past four months were fantastic, but the experience can't be rekindled, relived, or revisited in any capacity, that in itself is saddening. However, I have a hell of a lot of memories, most of em good, and it's reassuring to know that I have those to count on. So I know I look like a giant emo pussy in this post, but I think I'll be ok. Something that was really imporant to me just ended and now I am regrouping, that's normal. America is strange right now for me, but things will all work out pretty well soon. I just wanted to take a minute to remember the feelings that have made me so happy these last few months. Good times.

Oh yeah, now I can eat tacos.

Anyway, expect a few stories here, because if I write em well enough you'll listen. The next couple posts will be detailed accounts of the Steven Gets a Handjob and Possibly STD and Steven Gets Hit by a Car stories. They are quite hilarious, quite simply because nothing on even a relative level of normality can happen to me.