One Month in a Day

Kitchen: Huntington Beach, California

For the past several years I've always gone to Nobby's (Yoshinobu's nickname) for Thanksgiving. A group of my friends always gather there and a lot of good food and drink are to be had. This year was no different.

There was quite a bit of food, but I made sure to pace myself. There was kalbee, sushi and curry for your atypical Thanksgiving entrees. And then there was the turkey.

Mind you, this was no ordinary turkey. This was a unbelievably delicious turkey. Charles had perfected the art of cooking turkey. Everyone who ate it can attest to that. While not a secret recipe by any means, it was still an effective one. I can honestly say that I had the most delicious turkey I have ever had on this day.

Unemployed for seven months now and barely surviving from unemployment check to check. I am thankful for having the friends that I have - without them I would be unable to smile. For one reason or another, my friends are my family.

"One Month in a Day" is now two years old.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Tape Rack: Costa Mesa, California

I was told that there was 1400 hours of miniDV footage to go through. The number sounds like a lot, but it still doesn't daunt me. Then again, I'm not the only intern.

I started an internship this month with Roadtrip Productions - they are an independent unit responsible for the PBS show "Roadtrip Nation"; a show where a group of students travel cross-country, interview what they feel to be successful individuals and find out what makes them (and themselves) tick.

The concept is intriguing to me because I find myself and others stuck in that loop. While college students are trying to wise up, I'm in my mid twenties doing the same thing.

Logging and viewing documentary footage can be tedious or fascinating, depending on what is logged. The interviews that students have conducted are, so far, inspiring and reflective. Young and old people from all walks of life. It feels very natural to watch a lot of the footage. And with more tapes logged, its easier to find myself "knowing" the students as they interview one individual after another.

With the JLPT (language exam) and this unpaid internship, I am busier than I have usually been. I'm still broke (this is not an understatement), but am working with the options that I have. Being at Roadtrip Productions is definitely an inspiring fit.

Dinner Table: Downey, California

I'm not quite sure what possessed me to decide on taking an exam, but it must have been for a good reason. Mid-month, I thought about my love of (and experiences with) Japan. Both good and bad. Even though my Japanese was passable, I never took the Japanese Language Proficiency Test (aka JLPT, aka Nihongo Nouryoku Shiken).

Everyone who knew me said Level 4 (the most difficult being Level 1) was too easy. So I notched my signup to Level 3. "Upper Beginner".

I started studying. In three months... on December... I will take the test. It would be nice to pass, especially after the studying to come.

Dinner: Downey, California

In August, my friend Steve invited me and his other friends to go deep sea fishing in Dana Point. I accepted.

I hadn't been on a boat since I used to go camping with my dads friend and his family. I was a young kid at the time and going on a boat was not a problem.

Unfortunately, I got horribly sea sick this time around, even after taking some dramamine (for the motion sickness). It was a rough ride, but I managed to muster the energy to catch a fish - probably the first real fish I have ever caught in my entire life.

Although a small milestone on the "things I want to do before I die" checklist, it was a milestone nonetheless. It was honestly hard to tell if it tasted any better than fish I usually have, but it was nice knowing that I didn't end up empty handed after we set out to sea.

Restaurant: Costa Mesa, California

Nine years ago I was Christine's penpal on America Online, when it was one of the few services (alongside Compuserv, Prodigy and other such networks) that preceeded broadband and standard internet service providers. Keeping in touch waned after awhile, as many things do when growing up.

In July, Christine was working in the summer at a law firm not far from my locale. It's been a good seven or eight years since we last met. We managed to meet up for her lunch hour. And since I was still unemployed, my "flexible" schedule was understated.

It was great catching up with her, and almost surreal. How many people do you get back in touch with or see in-person after almost a decade? Sometimes I think it was more impacting to me than her: post-college she is working hard to move up in her profession, while I'm still a mid-twenties nomad soul struggling to get hired some place.

Good times, but also a short time. It started a month of contemplation... about friends who I couldn't even get a hold of weeks later, only for them to disappear. At the time I couldn't understand it. But lately, everything has come together.

While other people use e-mail as a tool to maintain contact or do work, I've always used it to keep in touch with even the farthest of friends. And in many ways I've invested myself into that. Sometimes equivalent to a phone call, e-mail was the only way I could even consider hearing back from people.

I figured that others friends, especially others who are committed (have significant others, etc), they can afford not to keep in touch with others. Life has moved them along. Sooner or later, we fall out of the scope of someone for perfectly normal reasons... though at first we might want to know why, especially when we're lonely. Am I right, or just a little too introspective?

In recent months I've come to an understanding and I let go of certain things, as friends have let go of keeping in touch with me. People move on, life moves along, and we just have to work with the flow of things. I didn't expect to meet up with Christine, not in years. But it was nice that she took the time out to meet again and chat over some lunch. I was opening a time capsule for moments at a time.

Meeting friends you haven't met in ages can be a bittersweet experience: sometimes you want to realize (once more) the last great thought you had of someone, only to find that it is just a memory.

Home Kitchen: Fountain Valley, California

I returned from my trip to Japan, unemployed.... but motivated to look for work. It was also time to take advantage of the time I had to wrap up loose ends and work on my creativity.

Mat turned 30 this month. I went forth to get a Macintosh computer. I was back in Downey. It was difficult returning to what I was hoping to leave once and for all. I don't mean that in a truly offensive sense: for a long time I have been trying to find myself while being independent. But I couldn't (and still can't) afford to live on my own. So I am home.

One afternoon, a week prior to my ex-girlfriend's (Linda's) birthday, she dropped me an email asking me if I had any plans for that afternoon - apparently it was going to be the longest day of summer.

We ended up going to Huntington Beach. Just an hour before we met up, I decided to buy her a dozen red roses.

We ate at Ruby's at the end of the boardwalk, had a good conversation and left quite pleased with the day.

Linda is an exception to the stereotype of an ex girlfriend. We have been through quite a bit in our time together but still manage to keep in touch on an almost daily basis. Although we have our differences and have moved on with our lives, we are still quite close.

I take comfort in knowing that we love each other, not so much relationship-wise, but as two people who have known each other for quite some time, working through even the toughest of personal times.

These are the sort of friendships or relationships that I will always cherish: those that survive the weather and struggles of life and time.

Happy Birthday, Linda.

Yakyuudori: Kitakyushu City, Fukuoka, Japan

When I left Japan in July of 2003, I told Koichi that I would come back to visit. On the second week of May, I took a shinkansen (bullet train) from Tokyo to Kitakyushu and fulfilled that promise.

May was a month in Japan, and I made the most of it: I visited Sendai, Tokyo, Nagoya, Aichi, Kyoto, Kitakyushu, Oita and probably a few other tiny spots that I can't recall. It was a time to visit my friends who were on their last (or extended) terms on the JET program as well as a chance to say hi to all of my friends native to Japan.

I took many pictures, took many drinks and found new inspiration. I also began shooting my next video.

Japan is always very special to me and that's very difficult to articulate to friends who don't quite understand. I was finally able to explain to them why just a few months ago, but I find it best to keep that revelation to myself and those close to me.

The first night I arrived in Kitakyushu, I left my bags at Dion's and we went in the evening to visit Yakyuudori, the old yakitoriya (yakitori shop/establishment) that I frequented all too often. Koichi and Kondo saw me, surprised and elated. Some regulars dropped their jaw - apparently they remembered me too. It was great to be back.

The first night I believe I drank almost an entire container of Umeshu - plum wine. The following day was met, naturally, with a hangover. If you tell a local "futsukayoida" the next day, they will laugh at you. It translates to "hangover".

For one week I was in Kitakyushu, at Yakyuudori almost every night. It was time travel, a return to moments in the past that were very meaningful to me.

As I was eating and drinking he told me to look at the ceiling in a corner of the shop. I could see a box and a book. It was an illustrated history of baseball book that I sent him when I was living in Encinitas a few years back, along with the original Priority Mail box that I sent it in. Safe to say I was grinning when I saw it there.

I should send Koichi some photos that I took in May. It's nice to know that some of my memories have other homes.

Shabu Shabu Restaurant: Los Angeles, California

Clay, Mat, Jen, Brian and I went out to have shabu shabu before my next big trip. One could call it a vacation. I wanted to call it my next inspirational journey.

We had beef and chicken (with vegetables of course) and later drank at a bar down the street that used to be called Muse but was completely redone. There we had soju (Korean rice wine) served in what almost seemed like flower vases... At the very least a nice buzz was to be had by all.

My time with Rockstar San Diego was over. It was time to search for something new...

Sky: Long Beach, California

I was sitting with Ayreen for the first time in real life at an oceanside breakfast/bar called Schooner or Later. Very cute name.

I'm not quite sure how I was finding time off work but I wanted to make sure that I didn't overwhelm myself with stress like I did the year prior on Red Dead Revolver. So there I was with a rum coke and an omelette. There, we chatted about ambitions, my plans for the next few months and so on.

I looked at that vapor trail and it reminded me of something. It also foreshadowed a trip to come...

Backyard: Fullerton, California

Mat's parties are one of those things you just end up going to because you get to see your friends. In fact, it was the only time I've been able to gather with friends from outside San Diego.

Work was intense. Much overtime, little rest (or recovery time for that matter).

I cannot recall much from this month. Except that there was a party I went to and that work was ramping up even more...

Priestly and Faraday: Carlsbad, California

I was sitting at my desk, starting my morning off as usual. My co-worker kept his eyes on his CRT monitor and mentioned the simple passing of time.

"January's over," he said.

"Where'd it go?" I asked sarcastically. We both knew the answer quite well.

Apartment Complex: Downey, California

On weekends, when I have the chance, I return to Downey. My parents live here. Some friends aren't quite sure where it is. I tell them it's where the 105 and 605 freeways meet. That's usually enough for a local to figure out the location.

The car I drove for ten years overheated to death. Something in the engine had literally disintegrated and oil was constantly leaking into the radiator. I scrambled to find a used car and was fortunate enough to find a great one in several days time. A disaster, somewhat averted. It was a headache not unlike the turbulent month previous.

2004 was an uphill-downhill-uphill tour. Towards New Year's Eve I decided that the year had been one of the worst I ever went through. It was supposed to get better. However, because of my many errs and ways, things didn't turn out right. Crap happens, as one might say.

I've evolved more in another year's time. Just not the way I expected to. I hope that the next year brings better days.

Guest Bedroom: Downey, California

Back in the United States. Back in California. I found myself and my laptop at my old bedroom, which was converted to a computer room slash guest bedroom since I'd packed up and left it two months ago. I was sending emails to friends, co-workers, just to catch up to [what little] I missed while I was gone. I was explaining myself and my reasons to them. I wasn't going to be around Downey for long.

By the first week of November I was staying in the den of a friend's apartment, trying to figure out bits and pieces of the life I just left in Japan. Things may have been so different had I not sprained or strained my upper back, had I not worked those hours. It's embarassing to admit that I even went and returned, but it's also something that simply happened... maybe for a reason. Maybe not. I was trying to figure my life out.

Telecommuting. Telecommunicating. By mid-November I was back at the job I supposedly left behind. It could have been necessity: I returned from Japan with no money after spending my way there and back. My return may have also been wishful thinking: perhaps I could progress further at my former job. Who was I kidding? I needed to work. You have to take what you can when there's very little, or nothing, left.

November was confusing, crushing, busy and difficult. It also marked one year of this small project I call One Month In a Day.

Apartment Building: Kawaguchi City, Saitama Prefecture, Japan

In less than three weeks, the Japan I once knew and hoped to experience again had turned upside down. The teaching work was overwhelming, and I had sprained my back before I even moved into my apartment, just one week after arriving in the country. My spirits were crushed when the first week of November kicked in.

It had been just two weeks. I was on the phone with the head office of my employer. I gave sudden notice that I was quitting.

"...What's wrong? Just tell me, [lay it down]."

I came to an ultimately honest realization and answered.

"I made a big mistake."

Perhaps I wasn't meant to be a teacher. Maybe I fooled myself all along and only now I realized the truth. I loved Japan - I lived there for one year. This time I was ready to leave with weeks. What happened?

I moved myself and two suitcases from my apartment in Yokohama to a friend's place in Warabi, north of Tokyo. Once I got there I looked at the size of the apartment complex. It reminded me of Kanada Kodan, the name of my old apartment in Kitakyushu.

In fact, my friend's floorplan was laid out exactly the same. So, I thought, this is what Japanese goverment-housing looks like. I did remember thinking to myself that I might have lived in lower-income housing some two years ago. Though I didn't realize that it was actually true until I was told about it this time around.

My friend took me in without hesitation, without asking any questions. I explained myself and my situation anyway prior to giving her the phone call.

I stayed for a week and left Japan on the 25th, one month since arriving. I left, in a sense, running away. There is a guilt that stays with me because of the school and the staff that accomodated my arrival. All of them were so friendly and helpful. But it was far beyond what I could handle and I realized that the job was not for me. My sudden and shocking departure was evidence of that.

Many of my friends told me to "at least enjoy Japan before you leave". They know I have a heart for the place: to leave bitter would be rotten. For the week that I was housed I visited friends in the area, walked around my favorite districts and absorbed the atmosphere that was Tokyo. It was an inspiring but shocking week for me. My sprained back kept me worried.

I returned to California, jet-lagged and disoriented. October was one of the most difficult months of the year. Strange and true.

Suburb: Omiya Ward, Saitama Prefecture, Japan

On the 24th I arrived in Japan along with a dozen others. Not long after our arrival, we took the Narita Express to Nippori Station. Our destination was Omiya, a city north/morthwest of Tokyo.

For one week we stayed at a training house. After training, we were all to disperse to our individual schools. We were going to be full-time english conversation teachers throughout the east Japan area.