I know I painted a pretty bleak picture in my last entry, but if my self-assessment seemed unduly harsh, keep in mind that it was my birthday last Sunday. It seemed appropriate to spend at a day or two reflecting.

I did receive couple of presents, actually. My parents were sympathetic to my computer sob-story and bought me the new G4 Powerbook I'd been pining for. It's as slick a machine as I expected, and I plan to start doing some animation work as soon as I can get my hands on the software. (Unfortunately, I still need to figure out a way to transfer money into my Washington Mutual account, as that's the only way I can make online purchases.)

Due to the 16-hour time difference, I received no happy-birthday e-mails on the day in question, but since then a few have come in, and they helped take the edge off the loneliness. You have my heartfelt thanks, guys.

I'm afraid I have to disappoint everyone who asked "Did you do anything fun to celebrate?" I spent my birthday working at Nova, and in the evening I headed over to Shibuya to shop for a carpet. Whee.

Things did eventually end on a high note, though. Last night, Naoko, one of my private students, unexpectedly handed me a mysterious black box. Inside was a stunning incense gift set called Yume No Yume (The Dream of Dreams). I'd forgotten I'd even mentioned my birthday to her, but clearly I struck Naoko as someone in dire need of some incense. "Please lose your stress by using it," she said.

Let's hope I do.

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.

At Henry's insistence, I finally made a return trip to Mickey House, the gaijin bar/conversation lounge in nearby Takadanobaba. (Now that I live in Ikebukuro, I'm perpetually amazed at the teleporter-like speed of the Tokyo train system—travelling the two stops to 'Baba takes, at best, five minutes.)

Last time, I wrote about being creeped out by the frat-boy backpackers hitting on college girls. This time was far, far worse. The entire population of the bar seemed to consist of paunchy, 40-something English guys smoking unfiltered cigarettes and trading their latest indignities about life in Japan. As a matter of fact, and I swear this is true, about an hour after I arrived, a trio of backpackers walked in, glanced around, and walked out. It was that lame.

As for myself, I already spend 35 hours a week making awkward small-talk, so I mainly just listened and nodded. Speaking would have been painful anyway; I didn't have much of a voice left after all that secondhand smoke.

So, ordinarily, the thing to do would be to find a better conversation lounge, but alas, Mickey House is the only one of its kind. I don't know what the young people here do to mingle with gaijin, but unless they enjoy listening to what an ordeal it is to find a decent plate of fish & chips, it ain't the same thing as what I did last night.

Any other suggestions? Henry? Anyone?

I'm not made of money over here, obviously. Due to the strength of the American dollar compared to the yen, my salary, when converted to my home currency, is considerably smaller than that of my Canadian and Australian coworkers. That's presumably why I see so few Americans working at Nova, but so many American tourists.

For the curious, my monthly paycheck is about $2500 U.S., after taxes. Rent takes out $700, and food takes out about $900. My phone, water and electricity bills cost me another $200, and miscellaneous expenses like razor blades and garbage bags account for $100 or so. So I basically have about $600 left over each month, which thus far has been going entirely to furniture. But with the purchase of a rug and a ceiling lamp next month, I'll basically be in the clear, and ready to start saving for my retirement.

Ha! I'm joking, or course—if I cared about saving money, I'd still be a UI engineer in San Francisco. Instead, I'm in the process of figuring out what I need most, now that I have chairs to sit on and, coming soon, light to read by.

It's not a hard question to figure out, actually. I need the same thing I've always needed: a faster Mac. The rickety iBook I bought last year was a strategic decision. I wanted a low-end machine so I wouldn't be tempted to spend all my time playing video games and fooling around in Photoshop. The plan was that I'd be forced to spend all my free time making friends and hanging out. It only took me six months to spot the fatal flaw in this plan: I completely suck at making friends.

Self-pity aside, I've been devoting more and more of my free time to the project I mentioned back in October, and I've reached the point where, having completed the screenplay, character designs and some preliminary storyboards, I'm ready to do some more computer-intensive tasks like 3D modeling and sceneplanning. And my 500Mhz G3 processor just ain't gonna cut it. So I've been trying to figure out a way for my little paycheck to make itself useful. The problem is, I keep upping the ante in ridiculous ways. Here's a helpful breakdown of how my thought process sabotages my every ambition:

Hmm. I could try to convince one of my San Francisco friends to visit the storage place where I've got my G4 Cube, pull it out and mail it to me. The shipping would probably cost about $300, plus whatever it would take to bribe them to do it.

But that's a huge potential hassle for my friend, and what if the shipping wound up costing way more than I expected?

Besides, for only $400 more, I could just buy a round-trip ticket to S.F.! Take a vacation! Visit my friends, and bring back my Cube as a carry-on!

Hmm. But I'd still need to buy a monitor for the Cube, so this idea isn't as cheap as it seems. Not to mention that it's one more bulky item to ship back when I'm done here.

On the other hand, for another $400, I could buy a refurbished 867Mhz G4 Powerbook 12"! It's smaller and lighter than my current iBook, plus it has a longer battery life and a CD burner!

Hmm. But 867Mhz isn't even as fast as my three-year-old Cube, and with 3D animation, every Mhz counts.

Ah, but for $400 more, I could get the refurbished 1Ghz Powerbook 12", which has a DVD burner...

Er, ahem. Of course, a $1500 computer would take me three months to save up for, so it doesn't really solve my immediate problem. Back to the drawing board.

Hell, if I had that much money, I could get that $1900 projection TV I've had my eye on...