Confessions Part II

Some of the best nights of my life are the ones when I’m in bed before 10 pm. 

Others are when I’m out late dancing like a (completely sober) drunk.

With the exception of pudding, I have not cooked rice since I came to Japan. 

Those gooey brownies that earn compliments and marriage proposals come from a box.  
  

It's not uncommon for me to fantasize about smuggling a small Japanese child in my suitcase home. They're just so darn cute!

I’m convinced that, due to a combination of curiosity and carelessness, I have accidentally walked more kilometers of Japanese countryside than I have purposefully jogged or run.

Contrary to popular belief, I am not an interesting person. I am an average person open to interesting situations.

I didn't bother to learn "bad" Japanese words because I don't want them slipping out at inopportune times and I prefer to remain blissfully ignorant when they are directed at me.  

Sometimes I smile and nod even though I don’t understand. Other times, I smile and nod even though I do.

I don't know which is more heartbreaking; the fact that I haven't been to church since Christmas Eve or the fact that I haven't missed it.

Inappropriate interactions with males over fifty or under twenty don’t phase me.* It’s the entirely appropriate exchanges with locals of a similar age that leave me tongue-tied.

We met once, he asked me to go to dinner, but we never did. It’s probably for the best. Falling in love now would be extremely inconvenient.  

I rarely remember April Fools’, but when I do, I make it count. 

The number of books I have read and relished over the last two years can be counted on one hand. Two, if I'm generous. 

*If the latter don’t know better now, one can hope they will one day. If the former haven’t grown out of it yet, nothing one young female foreigner can do or say will expedite the process.