Crap man, this happened two weekends ago, and I'm just getting to it now. I thought I'd be less busy after Japanese class, but that hasn't happened yet.
Carla and I jetted off to Vancouver on the 25th of August. It seems that you have to apply for your Japanese working holiday visa in person. You also have to make up a resume and write an essay and plan out a detailed itinerary. For my Australian working holiday visa, I applied over the internet. Easy as. Basically, I just had to prove that I had enough money to get there and back and they were like "She'll be right, mate."
So we went to Vancouver to apply in person. Also to visit with Carla's brother, my friend Eric and my newly transported to Vancouver friend Nate. The Visa application was a joke, I have no idea why it had to be in person. We basically handed the clerk our stuff, he confirmed a few details and that was that.
That's okay though, that just gave us more time to bum around Vancouver. We did some shopping and a lot of eating. There is so much freaking sushi in Vancouver it boggles my mind. My mind is still somewhat boggled, actually.
Caught up with everyone: Eric is still studying. He is never not going to be a student. Darren is about finished his degree. And Nate is involved in some citywide water gun assassination thing. {UPDATE: Nate hurt his neck or somesuch and had to drop out. His roommate is still in the running, even managed to avoid an assassination attempt. Go roommate whose name I forget, possibly John!}
But the Visa thing and the visiting of people weren't the only reasons we head out to the coast. No, we had other business further south. Down there in the Americas. The first ever Penny Arcade Expo. How often does a person ever get to attend the first annual of anything? How could we not go?
Actually, when it was first announced, we had no plans on going. I liked the thought behind it, but the pot was not all that sweet. But then those fuckers just kept adding cool shit. The musical acts are what did it for Carla, Halo 2 was just icing on the Carrot Cake. The playable demos were the milk poured over the cut up carrot cake. Lack of funds and desperate need of what funds were left for our Japan sojourn be damned!
So we hopped on a Greyhound bus and headed for sunny Seattle. It seems the god damn west coast has stolen all the prarie's good weather. I got more of a tan in Seattle and Vancouver than at the cabin. That ain't right. But back to the bus: we were a bit worried about crossing the border. Not because of our side business of being drug mules, but because we had to surrender our Passports to the Japanese consulate. I was okay cuz I always carry my birth certificate with me. For when I doubt my own existence. But Carla left hers at home. Would we make across the border to the land of milk, honey and free healthcare?
Yeah. With no problem whatsoever. We checked into our hostel: the Green tortoise. Seemed nice enough. Looked like a hostel. After dumping our crap, we poked around the neighbourhood. Saw Pike's Market. Big. Lots of people. Smelled of fish. Didn't buy anything. Except for Peroshkies. Which aren't perogies. They're Russian pastries. Pretty okay, but the apple cinnamon roll was the highlight of the snack.
Also bought some international junk food. Marzipan tastes like... Crap I forget what I thought it tasted like. That'll teach me for waiting two weeks before writing shit up. It tasted like some kind of liqueur. And I forget the names of the other stuff we tried. One was like wine gums, but much chewier, not an improvement. The other was a plain chocolate bar with a great slogan "NOT for GIRLS" I let Carla try it, just because I don't like being told what to do by packaging, which is also why I only ever lather once. Repeat my ass.
Our hostel had a free dinner: all you can eat baked potatoes and mashed potatoes and broccoli soup and some sort of rice. All really good. Best broccoli soup I've ever had, and I'm not trying to damn it with faint praise, it just kind of works out that way. Some nice girls sat at our table before, during, and after our meal. There was an American girl whose name escapes me who was going hiking and camping up North. Then there were two Japanese girls Misako from Tokyo and Misa from Osaka. I get the impression that there is a rivalry between those two cities. So we talked about various things, stuff to do in Japan, how much work sucks, how much traveling rocks, and so on.
Then this... Not a man, but no longer a boy asked if he could sit with us. Sometimes being nice polite Canadians bites you in the ass. This was one of those times. I don't have a brain for names, so I also forget this kid's name. He's nineteen, took a little Japanese in high school (but doesn't remember as much as he thinks he does), draws, enjoys improvisational acting and photo taking. He was keen to show off his new camera, but had problems getting out of the packaging. I think maybe he was trying to dazzle us all with his worldliness, and his renaissance man-itude. But none of us were, we were to polite to ask him to leave, but none of us were enjoying the conversation with him in it. Luckily: free beer. They had tapped a keg at the reception desk, so we all bolted for the brew. Thank god the legal drinking age in the states is so stupidly high. It felt weird being carded tough, it's been so damn long. I didn't usually get carded when I was underage. Not like my friend Trev who gets cracked all the time, usually by people at least half a decade younger than him. Oh how we mock him.
Misako seemed to be a little ticked that she had to show I.D. She really wanted to drink. There was almost a rumble. Luckily cooler heads prevailed. Heads cooled by beers. The Green tortoise was turning out to be a pretty cool hostel. Except for that guy. He found us out on the patio and talked at us some more. He asked the Japanese girls who their favourite Sumo wrestler was. (for those of you who don't know: Sumo isn't all that popular in Japan, especially with younger girls). He then asked them if they've ever wanted to kill a boyfriend. Because boyfriends cheat, although he would never cheat on them. The talkative, non hint-taking jerk drove us away from our free beer. That takes talent and determination. We went to bed early. Fucking jerk.
So ends part 1...
Join me for the somewhat exciting middle part and boring conclusion!!!
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