Chikage sings happy birthday to herself on her second birthday.
happy 2nd birthday tonchan!
R1011910
Originally uploaded by renfield
Miri catered and Yuika and friends came over to celebrate Tonchan's 2nd birthday.
swing!
swing!
Originally uploaded by renfield
Me and the Ton took a little walkabout; went up to the Robot SlidePark at The Hills and goofed off for a bit before heading home through the backstreets of Moto Azabu. Stopped at this little local park and for the first time she was into the swing...for about 30 seconds. Much preferred the slide, though on her second ride down she launched off the end and landed flat on her butt. Minor crying ensued but she's tough as nails so I brushed her off and carried her home.
subway
subway
Originally uploaded by renfield
After the AIS X-Mas party we got on the subway and headed over to the ANA Hotel for a big buffet lunch.
the shrine
Her Royal Tonchaliscious is quite particular about going to bed. In order to properly enter the blissful state of sleep, the appropriate sacrificial offerings must be made to the Sandman and the Night Gods. Arrayed upon the shrine (otherwise known as the window sill above the futon) there must be: several pieces of gum in their dedicated Small Bowl, a plastic bottle of Calpis®, and a glass of water. Optionally, depending on the mood of the deities and the alignment of the heavenly bodies in the night sky, there may also be required any or all of the following: some cookies, chocolate bread, juice carton, a small apple.
Only when the Sandman and his Darkly Servants are appeased with such offerings will Her Majesty The Tonchanator enter into peaceful slumber (assuming that mom arranges the appropriate blankets just so whilst delivering the appropriate belly and/or back patting. Dad need not bother; any attempts at getting within 30 centimeters of the Gateway to Slumber will be forcefully repulsed and accompanied by a now-standard "No Papa! Mo iyada! No Touching! Bye-bye!")
nice dinner
Had the lawyers take us out for dinner. Nice place in Omotesando; stylish interior, excellent menu (seafood, imported and domestic beef), English-speaking staff, apparently excellent wine selection...and the place was absolutely dead empty on a Thursday night.
Bodes not well for economy in general and the expat community in particular.
Slide!...Where you going?
Slide!...Where you going?
Originally uploaded by renfield
On the slide at Arisugawa Park...and then, off she goes!
new clothes
new clothes
Originally uploaded by renfield
Got some new clothes at Muji in Yurakucho. The Tonchalizer will ONLY wear clothes that have buttons on them, so she got a couple shirts and this fly-fly polka-dot hoody, which she refused to take off. She also got a sporty pair of pajamas and some socks (buttons on the pajamas, no buttons on the socks.)
Oh and the lego do NOT belong back in the lego box; they belong scattered all over the floor. This appears to be the same theory as applies to the colored pencils. And the DVDs. And the stickers.
balloon
balloon
Originally uploaded by renfield
Taking a walk and Tonchabeast declared that we MUST RIDE THE BUS! So we did, and went to Ginza. As soon as we got near Familia she then declared that she MUST HAVE BALLOON! So we went downstairs and got her a balloon. This time I managed to not let it go and tied it firmly to the bag once she got sick of holding it.
apples from baba
apples from baba
Originally uploaded by renfield
Big box of apples and Kiwi fruit from Grandma. Tonchan did not like the Kiwi fruit and demanded that they were immediately removed from the box. Don't think she liked the scratchy, hairy skin.
the racist
Had an interesting experience at cutting practice in the Kudanshita Dojo this evening. I arrived about 8:30, changed out, and hit the floor to practice and help teach. The first class ended about 10ish I think, then the second class started. Mostly the same folks; a few went home, a couple new people joined.
One of the guys, whom I shall call Racist Ass ("RA"), was cutting on the center stand and not succeeding too well. It was quite obvious what he was doing wrong, so after several minutes of struggling and not seeming to understand what he was doing incorrectly, I approached him and give him a word of advice, as is both my tendency and my responsibility, being the senior ranked instructor on the floor. He casually waved off my advice in a way I considered fairly rude, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt; many people would rather struggle through figuring it out themselves. So I stepped back and let him whack away. Elvis mentioned to me that this was the racist guy who doesn't like advice from non-Japanese, and I recalled being told about the kid.
I've been living in arguably the single-most homogeneous and xenophobic country the world has ever seen for nearly 15 years, so I wasn't too frazzled by him.
Later in class, Elvis was cutting and RA walked right behind him, to the other side of the room, and started putting bits of cuttings into a trash bag. That was just plain dangerous and stupid, and I immediately confronted him.
The setup: he was squatting on the floor, scooping small bits of trash into a bag. I was standing in front of him. It is also important to note that I outrank him, significantly. This is important not because I like to throw my call-me-sensei weight around (in fact this is the first time I have ever done so), but because while it is perfectly acceptable for me to speak to him using both informal and casual language, it is completely unacceptable for him to use anything other than formal, polite language when addressing me directly, on the dojo floor, during practice, and not having any personal (aka friend) relationship whatsoever. (Even Elvis knows to address me, in Japanese, in the dojo, during training, with the correct formal polite Japanese, though he can call me his beotch if he speaks English.)
In fact, in accordance with proper old-school tradition (like if we were at the main Honbu Dojo, or if Gosoke were around), he would be required to sit formally in seiza when I addressed him.
me: "Heah, you can't just walk behind someone like that when they're cutting, it's dangerous."
RA: [doesn't look up from his trashbag] "I checked that it was safe."
me: "You what? Who are you? A shihan? Some kinda expert?"
RA: "Shihan..."[chuckles, still looking down]
me: "Yo, do me the courtesy of LOOKING at me when I address you, huh?"
RA: [looks up at me with the best evil-eye he can muster]
me: "Are you listening to me?"
RA: "I hear you."
RA: "I hear you."
me: "Wise-ass, I asked if you are LISTENING to me, or do you just hear the sounds I am making?"
RA: "Yeah, I'm listening."
me: "Get changed and leave. And I don't ever want to see your face again. Leave. NOW."
At this point Moriya-san and Sakaguchi-san also chimed in and told him to get changed and go home. Sadly, my feeble English translation does not even begin to describe the utter contempt and smugness practically steaming off of RA.
The funny thing is, though the racism generally pisses me off, what really got me was his blatant disregard for both safety and the fundamental respect system inherent in Japanese martial arts.
Maybe he felt only a Japanese person can properly convey the finer nuance of Japanese martial arts, maybe he just don't like the White Man; I don't know and don't care. And I find it sad that he will never, ever learn a single thing about any legitimate Japanese martial art, ever. For his attitude is the absolute embodiment of everything that the arts do not stand for.
On the surface a traditional Japanese martial art appears to prize and favor appearance, formal etiquette, and show over substance. But the fact is: it does not matter how old you are, what sex you are, what country you come from, what color your skin is, what gods you worship, how much money is in your bank account or who signs your checks or anything. All that matters is what you have achieved in the art; the art, and your accomplishment in it is everything.
So I find it generally sad that this kid, who probably thinks he's some purist Japanese national with great pride in His Country and His People and His Traditional Arts, simply and fundamentally does not understand the first thing about what makes Japanese martial arts so wonderful.
But even beyond all that, I don't care if you are the emporer himself; you do something that I consider dangerous in my practice when we're swinging live blades, and you don't listen to me when I call you on it, you are out. End of discussion.
bag head tonchan
bag head tonchan
Originally uploaded by renfield
Child puts bag on head. Child runs mad about the room. Child giggles hysterically. If she's still doing this when she's 14, we got problems.
weekly update
This week I spent most of my time at work...sniffling and coughing. Luckily for those around me, my throat hurt so much that by Wednesday I had basically lost my voice. I also managed to leave before 11pm TWO night this week. The other nights I technically left work really, really early in the morning.
The Tonchabeast has been in fine form in the mornings. This morning for breakfast she soup stock powder. In a bowl. Licking it off a spoon. I think she eventually had some udon or something, but anyway there is a fine line between really-cute two-year old and does-she-has-mental-defects? two-year old. I mean, she's not even two yet, so how smart can she really be? Never mind that Chinese kid I saw on youtube who can solve a rubik's cube faster than I can...that don't count.
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