Usually on a Sunday, since it's my one day off each week, I like to do as little as possible, or at least as little as I'm allowed to get away with doing. More often than not, of course, I'm allowed to get away with very little when it comes to doing very little. I have had to become quite expert at gauging where mrs bln is likely to be at any one time and am usually now able to find myself in an entirely different location at the appropriate moment. Sometimes I slip up and mistime her movements and before I know it I'm standing there listening to long and complicated instructions about taking curtains down or some such thing, so I need to keep my wits about me at all times.

Which can be quite tiring, really.

Anyway, this last Sunday I had already been presented with a fait accompli as one of the kindergartens where I teach had asked me to come in for a couple of hours to give some special classes in front of the parents, so any thoughts about having a nice lazy Sunday were already out of the window.

The idea was then mooted that, since I was going to be getting up early anyway, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea for me to make up the bunk beds that the kids had been clamouring for since gawd knows when. Actually, even though it did sound a bit like physical exertion, I could see the positive side because getting the kids out of our bed and into their own would leave mrs bln and myself in the unusual position of actually sleeping together, a scenario for which all sorts of possibilities came to mind.

And so, early Sunday morning I found myself jumping around with 40 five year olds in front of a crowd of proud mums and dads. A couple of things I can say about that is that Japanese mums smile at me a lot and Japanese dads smile at me very little and that my version of the 'Hokey Cokey' (or Pokey if you're that way inclined) has, as its final verse, 'You put your bottom in...your bottom out..you put your bottom in and you shake it all about...' and I'd just like to say that knowing there were all those mothers in attendance, I put in some extra special shaking it all about at that point...

You'd have been proud of me.

Then, true to my word (oh all right, I hadn't been able to think of a cunning plan to get out of it) I made the girls their bunk bed. I could tell you a story about the carpenter's blood rushing through my veins and the hours of good honest toil it took to build them their bed but in truth it all slotted together with no problems at all and I had it up in about 40 minutes. Hannah was delighted, especially since she discovered that by jumping off the top of her new bed, onto ours below, she was able to get sufficient bounce to almost make it back all the way up again. Maya, at only two and a half, was delighted to find that she could get up to the top on her own but not so delighted to discover that she couldn't get back down. This didn't however prevent her from conveniently forgetting this fact during the course of the day and when I found myself trudging wearily back upstairs to rescue her for the 600th time, we had to have words about it...

You may recall that I've blogged in the past about the fact that conversations in my house tend not to be too wide ranging and diverse. I've learned not to suddenly try out new topics of conversation on mrs bln as they tend to throw her off balance somewhat and most of my life at home is predicated on the monumental effort of preventing that at all costs. So we were headed for familiar territory when I asked her late morning what we might be enjoying for lunch that day. This is familiar territory because such a question can, apparently, have only two possible answers, cha-han (fried rice) or yaki-soba (fried noodles). I have learned, to my cost, not to make ANY kind of comment regarding these Sunday dining arrangements and it was with no surprise (I actually mouthed the words along with her) that I learned that we were to be having cha-han for lunch.

"Oh, that sounds good," I said, "but what with all that jumping around at the kindergarten and making bunk beds, I'm pretty ravenous actually, so how about something a little more, substantial shall we say, and why not (since we're about it) something, oh I don't know, that might do exciting things to our tastebuds too..?"

This turned out to be a pretty cunning ploy all on its own since she is unused to me claiming hunger before mealtimes (lack of hunger being a well used ruse to avoid fried rice and noodles in the past) and she looked worryingly off balance for a moment before pulling herself together and uttering the joyful words

"Well, there's nothing else to eat in the house so if you don't want cha-han, let's go to Mos Burger then...

Later that afternoon, well sated by our substantial and tastebud exciting cheeseburgers and onion rings, we set off for a local discount electrical store to look for a new telly, since our old one had recently given up the ghost after 10 years of faithful disservice. She who must be obeyed had decided that we had a budget of 80000 yen, which proved to be ample unless we started hankering after one of those High Definition jobs, which we didn't. In the end, we were able to find a quite satisfactory 28 inch wide screen affair for only 40000 yen, reduced from 160000 yen because it was a two year old model...

Since we'd only spent half of our budget and were feeling very pleased with ourselves, I thought I'd chance my luck and see if I could persuade her to agree to getting a dvd player while we were there, on the spot as it were. I knew of course that this half hearted suggestion would meet with the standard 'money's not for spending, it's for holding on to' retort, so you can imagine the almost uncontrollable rush of excitement that swept through me when she thought for a moment and then said,

"OK"

I wasn't going to give her time to exercise the woman's prerogative and quickly raced round to have a look at their selection, managing to find a very reasonably priced (12000 yen) Sony model.

Still basking in the warm afterglow of getting my wishes granted twice on the same day, I drove back home. Noticing mrs bln smiling, I asked her what was amusing her so much. She explained that because the salesman in the shop had a shaved head too, seeing the two of us standing next to each other was almost more amusement than she could bear and she'd been so moved that she'd agreed to my request, even though clearly we had no need for a dvd player.

Well that's what she said, but personally I think that she'd been thinking about the possibilities of us being together in the same bed again and had come over all flustered or something...

For the first time, or at least the first time that I've been aware of, I've been losing subscribers. Seven of 'em have jumped ship this last week and while it wouldn't really be true to say that I'm unduly worried about it, I have been wondering why.

Personally, I've never unsubscribed from anyone but that may be because I almost never subscribe until I've been reading for a while and although there have been times that I have disagreed violently (but in a quietly self contained kind of way) with something I've read in my SIR, what interested me in the first place keeps me coming back for more.

It could also be that (as you all know) I am so attuned to my inner Pooh that I'd never even remember to unsubscribe. I'm still subscribed to Shortpants, for example, who disappeared in a blaze of silence about 16 years ago. I know I ought to unsub, since the space his name takes up could be replaced with someone more, let's say, extant, but it always slips my mind and besides, there's always the sentimental and nostalgic pleasure of seeing his name there.

I'm not suggesting for a moment that any of you should feel obliged (ha!) to remain subscribed to me for any reasons, sentimental or otherwise; I'm just curious what precipitated this mass exodus. Seven people can be called 'a mass', can't they?

I wonder if it's because I don't post so regularly any more or if, instead of the wild free for all of the Wotsits days, you now have little to keep you amused. Or maybe it was because I told you about having a wank on the balcony in my last post. I imagine that some people might not find that thought as amusing as I did.

Anyway, they've gone, which is excellent news for the rest of you because there's now more of me to go round.

And to show my appreciation for those that remain, here's a little quiz for you:

Here are some of the bloggers that I enjoy. Unfortunately, they've gone and got themselves all in a muddle and I can't remember who they are. Can you help me sort them all out?

Moans in heat

Rub bald Len

Rather nude

Man ogre

Gathered deer smut

Erodes youth hero

Lush life miaow

************************

Finally, because I know how stressful your lives are, why not try bln's stress test. This is an excellent though simple test that's surprisingly effective at indicating whether you have too much stress in your life.

It's a picture of two dolphins. They will appear completely normal when viewed by a stress-free individual. Unfortunately, the test is not accurate enough to pick up mild stress levels.

It's quite simple. If there is anything that appears different about the dolphins, (ignore the slight colour differences) it is often an indication of potential stress related problems. Differences, if any, may also indicate the source of your stress.

Directions:
Sit upright and viewing the screen head-on, take a deep breath, exhale and then click on the blue ball and look directly at the picture that appears. If there is anything out of the ordinary then you should consider taking things a little easier....

Since coming back from Hawaii I've found it almost impossible to shake a deep sense of tiredness that goes well beyond simple jetlag; a tiredness that to be honest I took out there with me hoping to get rid of in the first place...

I'll admit to feeling a certain pressure to at least write something about the trip and as the days have passed and I've failed to do anything constructive, the pressure has grown so I'm just going to get this over with and move on to other things.

What can I say about the trip? That international travel with small children in tow is exhausting. That a 5 day holiday including flights from Japan to Hawaii is far from relaxing. That Waikiki is so full of Japanese and caters so much to them as to make it seem as though I hardly left Japan in the first place. That the cost of living there is ridiculously expensive. That it proved impossible for me to find a simple bar outside of the hotel and for my in laws to go more than two days without wanting to go to a Japanese restaurant. That, regardless of the fact that there may have been a convention going on at the time, I am not, have never been and never intend to be an orthodontist, so please don't ask me again. That I will never get used to paying $20 for a fucking sandwich, even if it comes with a mountain of potato chips on the side and neither will I ever get used to having to tip 15% of the price of everything that is brought to me. That the highlight of the trip was the book that the ineffably concupiscent DiDi lent me for the journey (Because They Wanted To by Mary Gaitskill) and that the closest I came to any kind of sexual shenanigans was having a wank on the balcony one evening when everyone else had gone to bed.

I am sure that the islands have plenty to offer but I didn't find any of it in Waikiki and, with apologies to those of you that live there, I'll close by saying that once was enough.

I can't tell you how good it feels to get all that off my chest.



Especially the balcony bit...