I didn't mean to take quite so long between entries, but these last two weeks've been a roller-coaster of highs and lows, both real and psychological. I'm celebrating a lot of anniversaries in the next 30 days, and even accounting for my usual negativity, I don't have a lot to show for any of them.

Regular readers have already noticed that I am not, in fact, coming home next month as I'd originally envisioned. I've just signed on for another year at Nova, though whether I remain here for twelve more months or twelve more weeks depends largely on my experiences over the spring and summer seasons. The great irony of it all, for me, is that I honestly can't tell whether I'm extending my stay here because I'm having an okay time, or because I'm absolutely miserable.

What I mean is, am I staying here because I can see light at the end of the tunnel, or because I don't want to come home feeling like a complete failure?

I'm not fishing for sympathy here. I had a modest number of goals behind my decision to move to Japan, and I've met none of them. They were, in no particular order:

• Learn to speak Japanese well enough to hold a conversation.


• Make friends in a foreign land.


• Maybe date some Japanese girls.


• See and experience the vast cultural treasures this country has to offer.


• Recapture my enjoyment of being alive.

I'm not trying to be melodramatic with that last one. You all know the feeling I'm talking about. It's that sense that life can still be magical, that even if each moment can't be perfect, that it's all going to turn out all right in the end. The last time I had that feeling was at a party in 1998. The weather was warm, we all jumped on Rachel's trampoline, cats dashed in and out of the house through the sliding glass door. I developed a painful crush on a girl from New York, and Robert taught me to play the didgeridoo.

I've had plenty of great experiences since then, but that day, six years ago, was the last time I was genuinely happy. No, I'm not exaggerating. Why do you think I still remember it?

Anyway, I thought I'd be able to find that feeling again by hurling myself into the great unknown, or at least that I'd be able to gauge where I'd gone astray. Instead, all I've learned is that my actions are driven more by fear than by ambition, and that most people dislike me instinctively.

Which hasn't helped.

But, as they say, when life gives you lemons, you take digital snapshots of them and make them into desktop pictures, then upload them to your blog.

I can't remember who said that. Aristotle, I think.

Four new photos have been added to the Desktops page, Tokyo section. They are reproduced below, with commentary.

This picture is a direct result of my carrying my camera everywhere I go. I've always liked the entrance to this concrete atrium near my house, but a stray shaft of sunlight turned it into a serene tableau of hard angles.

I might as well admit it. I'm obsessed with this walkway connected to Ikebukuro station. I've taken over 60 pictures of it, and I'm going to keep at it until I get it right. Until then, here's one of the the more dramatic ones. No happy accident, I saw the bus coming and raced into position so I could capture it blurring across the frame.

Surprisingly, this photo was not taken during my day at the Hanami party, but in the playground in front of my apartment, which lies under the shade of two huge cherry trees. To be honest, I didn't even know they were cherry trees until they exploded with pink blossoms one night last month, which was a pretty cool way to find out. This photo was specifically shot to be a desktop picture.

Of all the photos I've taken, this one is my current favorite. I'm not sure I know why.