and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

From: Lisa (self ascribed "Nancy-drewish International Businesslady of Mystery and Intrigue, just recently re-located in Osaka for a 3 year stint in a country where she neither knows anyone, or the language)

so, it's kind of refreshing to know that even though some things change, the crucial elements of oneself stay the same. for me, one example is my knack of involving the police in most of my soirees.

i decided to buy a sofa, which i figured would greatly improve my quality of life. hooray! no more squatting on my yoga mat in the corner! i managed to purchase a sofa, and arrange a delivery, with a gentlemen who spoke less english than i do japanese. picture it. anyway, friday was a holiday here, and i was reasonably sure my couch would be arriving between 9 and 12 friday morning. with that in mind, i was remarkably restrained in my thursday night activities and came home at the responsible hour of three or so, even remembering to set my alarm for ten to nine so i would have time to run around and clean up a bit before they go there.

with this in mind, the phone frightening me awake at 815 was a surprise. a surprise that landed my head into the ceiling above the loft, but, rising above the pain i quickly went down my little ladder and fell flat on my face, still a foot away from the phone. at this point, i almost burst into tears due to the pain in my foot and ankle (we'll come back to that) and answer the phone (literally on the 15th ring or so...). the gentleman on the other end and i then have a five minute conversation that exists almost only of us screaming "hai! sofa!" back and forth at one another. he hangs up. or i hang up on him. it is unclear in my mind. and i go to the bathroom. and hear suspicious noises outside my front door. sure enough, the phone call was to indicate that my sofa had indeed arrived...slightly early. i answer the doorbell and manage to fulfill every image of slothenly gaijin they have in mind...my hair is about five feet tall, i'm wearing bunny pajamas, and my apartment is an absolute tip.

anyway, after taking three doors off their hinges, they (2 deliverymen) determine that the balcony might be the way to go, and proceed to hoist my three seater couch up and over my balcony (i took pictures...there were times they were both off the ground...). success eventually, i went back to bed on my new couch, and awoke some hours later.

i was filled with alarm over two things...my impending housewarming party, and the state of my foot. i speculate i have broken some of those wierd bones on the top from the bruising and swelling, but being the martha stewart that i am i go shopping for snacks, liquor, wine glasses, and clean the entire house.

people arrive (seven of us at one point) at we proceed to have a civilized evening of snacks and drinks. doorbell rings at 11:00 pm. on friday. i'm expecting my friend brad, who has promised to deliver vermouth. instead, it is two of osaka's finest, in full riot gear. seriously. helmets and bullet proof vests. the only japanese speaker has retired, so we get nowhere until a 6'4" australian man helps me interpret (read "intimidate") them. we are, apparently, being too noisy and told to settle down. sigh. crappy neighbors. and i've only been here a month.