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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in polly's LiveJournal:

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Thursday, April 5th, 2007
8:39 pm
how low can you go

well, at least i might stand a chance with angelina after all
Wednesday, February 28th, 2007
8:38 pm
heath ledger or jake gyllenhaal?
Tuesday, February 27th, 2007
10:05 am
Dear Mr. Jarvis Cocker,

I think - and have thought for quite a long time - I am in love with you. Do you think you might consider falling in love with me too?


p.s. nice glasses
Friday, February 23rd, 2007
3:10 pm
books 3
6. extremely loud and incredibly close - jonathan safran foer

I don't know what to think about this. He's not a genius, but it often feels close. I feel that it's often easier to write from the perspective of a child or an old person, because one can be simpler, more direct, in a fashion that would sound cheesy from adults. It made me cry.
Tuesday, February 20th, 2007
12:25 pm
books 2
5. the possessed by dostoyevsky
Thursday, February 8th, 2007
1:22 pm
Thursday, January 18th, 2007
1:00 pm
an email from reiko, in japan. she's not very good at english.

Already you take a sleep. Good news for me,plusother person,maybe ? Its glass is blue,but all blue OK?NO! One company make or detect blue. Thats blue show toappetite decline. Ofcouse at once order its glass. That glass have quieteffect of nerve. Im veryglad lisson that news. This report is finish.
Wednesday, January 17th, 2007
7:09 pm
wot i read
As a year which is gearing itself up to offer much writing and studying and babysitting and being in kent, and little employment or anything considered worthwhile by the world, i hope it is also going to include a huge amount of BOOKS! Especially if i'm going to get on to this masters course in Japanese Literature. So, i'm going to do the book thing. So, this year, so far:

1. The Italian Girl - Iris Murdoch
2. Fear and Trembling - Amelie Nothomb
3. Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
Saturday, January 13th, 2007
11:07 pm
so many people are so boring.

what everyone tells you about love: it makes the world shine. what noone tells you about separation: it makes the world just crap.
Friday, January 12th, 2007
10:14 am
Last night, I was dancing around the kitchen to Regina Spektor with max in my arms, and when i was jiggling about, he started moving his arm up and down just like he was dancing to drum and bass. It was right cute.
Monday, August 7th, 2006
11:04 am
I am in vienna. It is beautiful. That is all.
Monday, March 13th, 2006
9:19 am
from now on this journal is friends only. if you would like to be added as a friend, please leave a comment below.
Thursday, March 2nd, 2006
8:47 am
oh japan.

Every week, it seems, in some way or another, I run up against the japanese belief that watermelons are vegetables. This is simultaneously disturbing and reassuring - disturbing because it seems so entirely fucked up as to render the possibility of rational speculation on the matter futile. And reassuring, because in a country that believes this, nothing should surprise me anymore. A licence for putting my difficulties not down to me, but to japan.

Some more wisdom gained from the textbooks which i teach:

whales go in groups and sing, "Bee, Bee, Bee"

even a door can be a barrier. some doors are too narrow for wheelchairs. Some doors have handles that are hard to turn.
Tom: Are there any other barriers people face?
Mukami: Sure, there must be. Let's find one.
Ken: And find a way to remove it.

I have a problem. This T-shirt is dirty.

Tom: What is the dog doing?
Kumi: The dog is studying. His name is Petros. THe woman is his teacher. He's a student at a school for service dogs.

Imagine repeating these over and over in a superloud voice, to be mimicked by the intonationless drone of 30 bored school kids. And then, during normal conversation, someone says a catch word - korea, mysterious, landmines - and all ready to spring to my lips is the sentence: 'whales are also mysterious.'

But then, the fantabulousness of just being around these children who are always giddy - who panic, and hide their test marks, and whisper in the corridor like they are making drug deals. who react to the tiniest nuances of behaviour; and yet have no idea they are doing so. I've thought for a long time that one of the most bullshit things ever said is Picasso's I wish I could draw like a child. my childhood was rarely ecstatic, and mostly fraught. but i think childhood is one of those things which is greener on the other side of the adolescent fence. Just being around - that is enough.

Current Mood: contemplative
Wednesday, March 1st, 2006
9:58 am
i'm going to have to call the whole thing off
I'm sorry. The wedding was a LIE, although the responses I got in some sense made me wish it was true, or at least made me wonder what it would be to make that decision - whether i ever ever could. Safe to say, I think, that NO is the answer. However much i want the dress, i don't have the chutzpah.

explanation: i lost a bet, or rather failed to solve a riddle, and that was my punishment. (I still haven't solved the fucking thing). The three day silence was also dictated.

It's funny, that even despite that, i still feel guilty for lying. So, I offer some choice treats in return.

at school, we were studying comparitives with the second years, and each had to make their own quiz about themselves: 'I am taller than my father - true or false?' 'I can play baseball better than my sister'. After getting me to spell 'secret' on the board, one kid then wrote 'hiroyuki is secret gay - true or false'. when i doubled over, he said, in japanese: 'oh, so you understand what 'gay' means then?'

while george was visiting, i scraped my nextdoor neighbours car whilst getting out of our unmanoeuvrably small driveway, and didnt notice. much trauma ensued, mainly because she's a surly bitch with enough passive-aggression to inspire a whole shelf full of self-help books. so i ended up at the police station with george, her, and paul as translator. it was not one fragment short of ridiculous - i had to pose for photos in front of both cars' injuries. and then, on the way home, paul told me this, that id missed during the conversation in japanese - that the policeman had been talking about how, if bitchroid from hell wanted, i could be arrested for HIT AND RUN.

I got a message from a random on myspace that read: nietzche (sic). so you believe in nothing? ahhh these are the moments of such intense feelings of intellectual snobbery that I live for.

fede is staying on sado, we are living like lords and buying out the wine selection at the local supermarket. my 3rd year babies are graduating soon :( which means that I won't see some of my favourite children after next week. if i make it through the graduation ceremony, with its pink roses and songs of pure fromage, without lapsing into full-bellied sobs, I shall be doing well.
Sunday, February 26th, 2006
1:39 pm
sometimes... ah! how to explain. I'm no longer the fearful, shell-like thing who sobbed into her hand next to the departure gates. I'm brave, and I have always seen the off-white dress, the second hand victorian underwear dress with the low neck. And so, after the third bottle of cheap french merlot I am getting married to a japanese man i just met.

next sunday.
Tuesday, February 21st, 2006
5:54 pm
the sun has touched the mornings with little blue fingers; in turn, the mornings reach out to me and alight with a spring. trees are once again autumn colours. colours!the mountains have just a frosting of sugar snow. “february is the coldest month”, the eliot-inspired harbingers whispered. they lied.

my brother has been and gone, leaving in his wake a smattering of teenage hearts and tears. I took him to school for three days; on the last, when we left, we had a movie scene worth of schoolgirls hanging out the windows and shouting i love you george.we didn’t do all that much, but it felt wonderful - hungover whispered deepnesses in warm beds; remembering, remembering. being a translator for the first time. a jolt, switching train tracks onto the one where other people are there to be dealt with, where bad moods affect people other than you.

else - i had dinner last night with my glassmaker friend, the only japanese person I know who has been divorced. for divorced, read fucked over. more food and wine than I thought possible: tagliatelle squirming around in mounds of creamy wood mushrooms, chicken nestling under tomatoey lentils. Rich red wine echoing around in our conversations; she likes me, I like her.

this morning I feel good, hopeful again, maybe just the alcohol in my bloodstream, maybe not. I’ve been feeling really aimless - not miserable, exactly, but just robbed of purpose, forgetting why I’m here. I pray it isn’t going to get cold again; I need to start walking, shake off the winter coat in my mind, my body. march, I’ve decided, I’m going to write, really try and produce somethings, because I haven’t for ages. ever, really. I cry on the phone to alex and he is far nicer to me than I deserve.

saturday, a scottish ceilidh that cam and caroline put on. feeling a bit awkward and hot and overdressed. the artist boy was there, with his thai girlfriend, who looked boring and boring. not even very pretty; and she was drinking the guinness. she asked me if I was scottish too, and I said no I’m english. the end. i can be a horror sometimes. later, a remarkable conversation between me and daniel:

d - so I guess that was H’s girlfriend at the ceilidh.
p - you don’t guess, you know. yeah I know. she seemed like a sullen bitch
d - woah. I thought she seemed nice.
p - oh really? I didn’t actually talk to her.

he asked for my email, anyway.

my japanese is getting better, but its never enough. I still don’t know if I like japan, but I’m not worried about it at the moment. resolving in this moment not to worry any more.

p - don’t worry any more
p - that’s ridiculous.
p - don’t worry.
1:02 pm
hand, the;
nails tiny as ever -
like shells, he said, once,
as if it was obvious -
and jagged, and cut.
flecked. blue chalk
pretends to be a bruise;
red pen cameos amongst real scars.
i got excited last night
and scribbled the name of a film:
foreign shapes in black,
amongst the lines and pinks
and painful lookings.
suddenly, tracing the flakes
and bits falling off,
and colours all unhealthy,
i know how it feels to be old.
Thursday, February 9th, 2006
4:21 pm
totoro is more popular than koizumi
today's headlines:

Polly taught her first ever lesson alone today. Sources report that it was a moderate success.

It now appears that even if I had wanted to stay in my job, I couldn't - Niigata prefecture have no money and are not employing any more ALTs, probably. So I did one of the philosophy tricks - making a 'free' choice to go which wasn't so free after all... (not strictly true, i could have stayed on sado but id have to be employed by "sado city" and thus move apartments, schools etc.)

People who annotate books are nearly always stupid - or so scientists have told us for a long time. But the comments in this Henry James I'm reading really take the biscuit. My favourite so far - although not the most stupid - is "she is really beastly".

Tomorrow, Polly is set to travel to tokyo to collect her younger brother. The young man will arrive into Narita Airport on Saturday at 09.01 a.m. local time.

Today's sleep forecast is much the same as the last few days: stormy and inconsistent with a lashing of bad dreams and stomach cramps. Despite this, mood coverage is on the up.
Monday, February 6th, 2006
6:37 pm
whinge whinge whinge
Maybe it's SADS... I don't know. A 12-hour roundtrip day for a job that I don't care about and the kids are just serially rude. I'm feeling so irritated and upset most of the time; I come home now and i can't decide whether to sleep or drink or throw myself at the wall. I do try to be positive, but it's hard when the hollow of my chest and the back of my head each contain a grey battleground, with all the unpleasant emotions fighting for predominance over one another. All I want to do is moan. BLAH.
Friday, February 3rd, 2006
8:51 am
Morning is just a few lilac cracks in the curtains. Meanwhile, this is a subdued heaven: sleeping unpenerated by carcrash burglar ejaculation dreams, or the shrill bell of the alarm; my cushion which forms a makeshift bedstead falling and cocooning my head; lazily waking up making weak tea; debbie harry giving me little trembles of excitement; knowing all i have to do today is read henry james, go to the handicapped school, eat sushi and drink beer.

whatever you do, take pride.
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