There’s nothing quite like a comic convention. The nearly constant buzz of conversation, occasional shouts and frequent squeaks as people recognize their favorite characters walking around outside of their stories. I’ve just gotten back from Nan Desu Kan, one of the Midwest’s biggest anime conventions, and as usual, it was an adventure. Read the rest of this entry
Hello, friends! It has been a while since I’ve put up a new post, so I thought it was high time I fix that. As usual, I certainly have too many projects going all at once (I have heard that the first step is acceptance). But I’ll be updating my blog more regularly, so stay tuned for that! Read the rest of this entry
One question that virtually every book lover gets asked is the inevitable, “What is your favorite book?” As if it were possible to choose only one book, in the entire universe of books, in all of the galaxies of genre, among all of the stars of narratives. And for those of us who collect books, we know this is a silly question, because why would we need bookshelves if only one book was important to us?
Another spring break has come and gone, and it’s gone by in the usual fashion, filled up to the brim with projects and gardening. My mother makes a tradition of going out to see her mother whenever she can break away during spring break, and, having the time, I decided to join her for the drive and visit.
Now the spring break trip isn’t for kicking up our feet and catching z’s. In our family, that simply isn’t done! Spring break at Grandma’s house means recovering the garden in the backyard—taming bushes, decimating weeds, severing roots, and other necessities in places where gardens will actually take over if you don’t pay attention to them. I suspect it’s rain that causes this. Read the rest of this entry
My love of video games started early, when I would watch my older brother play for a few hours at a time, who was an entertainment of his own with snarky running commentary and priceless reactions. Once, he nearly toppled out of his chair with surprise when his character opened a chest and a spider jumped out at his face. Remembering it now still makes me smile.
While my time for playing games has diminished significantly over the years, I still pick one up from time to time and sneak in some adventuring. I’ve played some great games, such as Journey, Uncharted, and the bizarre quirk that is Katamari, but lately I’ve had one on my mind that I wanted to write about. Last fall, I played Dragon Age: Inquisition from Bioware, which won the Game of the Year. It was such an engrossing experience to play, and I thought I might try to capture some of that sparkle with words. Read the rest of this entry
Close to this time a year ago, I posted about the senbazuru, or one thousand cranes, that my sister and I folded together. I thought it might be a good time, then (better late than never, right?), to post the pictures of the cranes strung together. They have long since taken flight back to Japan, but I have some photographs to remember them by.
It is the week of Thanksgiving, which means many things to many people. For some, it is a dreaded week of hectic schedules, preparations, and stressful social events. For some, it’s packed with school activities and projects, the promise of a few days off being the carrot at the end of the stick. For others, it’s a time to look forward to, to remember blessings, and to gather with family and friends. For still others, this week means none of those things, and some much sadder things besides. Read the rest of this entry
From time to time, I get blindsided by nostalgia. This isn’t the warm fuzzies or softly sighing kind of nostalgia, but the ambushed and left in a tizzy on the curb type. I blame part of this on the way that memories are stored in an intricate web of sight, sound, and sensation. It’s remarkable what can trigger a memory—a phrase, a word, or a picture. A certain period of time or even a moment can be piled up into a mental closet and stuffed behind a door. Once it’s away, it might stay there, undisturbed for quite a while. But then you hear a snatch of music that fits into that door’s lock like a key, and before you know it, you’re buried in the avalanche that came cascading out of the closet. Read the rest of this entry
A few days ago, I was talking with an acquaintance who remarked that she had once been asked if she was British. Her voice is distinctly American with a broad Midwestern tone, and she, naturally, was confused by the question. A mystery, indeed. But this set me to thinking about my own experiences with “mistaken identity.”
Sometimes, I think that the person I was two and a half years ago is a simply a dream. The summer of that year, I walked along lush forest roads embroidered with wildflowers, sat on the edge of the pier over a shimmering lake, spoke a new language, and wandered among crowds of millions. I loved living in Japan, but with two and a half years of graduate school between me and that summer, it seems more dreamlike all the time.