Six days until I head home for the holidays and with a certain academic time-suck over, the preparation has begun. Today I will brave the crowds at K’ntetsu and Loft in search of things worthy of my loved ones and start working on little pre-flight errands. The pants I bought last month were an anomaly; they fit in the waist and leg but were too long. In Japan, usually it’s the other way around. Nonetheless, they must be hemmed. I must also research a suitable lunch spot in Tokyo because we could only get tickets from Kansai International to Tokyo at 8 in the morning, leaving us with 10 hours until our flight from Tokyo to New York leaves. We: Sean and I. Sean went home to Ireland for the summer and felt it was overkill to head back again so soon. Since he didn’t relish the idea of puttering around town alone while I and our other friends were gone, I invited him to come to the U.S. with me. He agreed. It will be his first time a) venturing to that side of the Atlantic b) meeting my friends and family c) spending Christmas apart from his and d) visiting a real Irish pub. Stay tuned for The Spastic New Yorker and the Cranky Corker Do America.
This morning, I mused over a Facebook status update if bringing home traditional Japanese sweets would be a waste of time. Gluey rice mochi puffs stuffed with red beans, cookies stuffed with sweet potatoes, battered-and-fried maple leaves, green tea cakes stuffed with more red beans, sweet bean jelly; oh, yeah, that’s the stuff non-Japanese people love. No offense to anko-lovers; I just can’t get into the stuff and neither, I’m sure, can my family. Last year’s harmless-looking maple cookies received only tepid appreciation. Thus, Eba wonders if bringing home traditional Japanese sweets would be a waste of time.
My mother’s response to my status update:
“well, yes, in spite of the fact that we are not conosseurs in japanese’sweets, we are on a sugar diet. Thanks for the thought.”