Blog time.
So what up? How we all feeling? What it doo-doo?
This week, my blog is gonna be more personal. Yes, I do already share the most embarassing, intimate stories about myself anyway; but this blog will be personal in the “I’m having a party with my mind and you are crashing that party” sense. Got it? Here we go.
Man. I really hope I buried that body deep enough. Where the dogs won’t smell it. Or I could’ve buried a dead dog on top of the body. Ya know, so when the cop dog starts barking, and the police start digging, they’re like, “Oh, it’s just a dead dog. Bad dog, Ricky.”
Hold up. Maybe we won’t go that deep into my head. Can we start over??
Five months. 150 days. I haven’t seen my significant other in 150 days. That’s like… soooooo long. Too make matters worse, she’s in another country! Hell, she’s in another continent! How am I supposed to have phone sex when it’s 1.49 per minute on these international calls!?
I suppose I could go visit her. Visit her in her natural habitat, the mighty “Coco-Colombia de Cucaracha.” Is going back there the right call? I am wanted by local authorities. Is it worth risking it? For The Queen™, it’s always worth it. (*Flashes cheesy grin, double thumbs up*)
Being apart from somebody you care about teaches you things. You learn how to value the other person, and you realize how often you’ve taken them for granted. And those little pissy arguments? No, those don’t serve any purpose. So I don’t think we’ll be fighting anymore when we reunite.
Just kidding, she’s a Colombian female; those women are all fucking psychos. (*Cheesier grin, triple thumbs up*)
In the world of all things Japan (my second biggest passion), I’m currently trying to decide which translation project I should undertake next. Not too long ago, I translated a “public speaking self-help” book, from English to Japanese. It was my first time translating an entire book. I learned something: getting a book done is an exhaustive project. You wake up one day and you’re like, “Oh my god, I have THREE chapters to get done today,” and then you go into the garage and start the car with the garage door closed and swallow huge clouds of carbon monoxide fumes hoping to end it all but then your mom comes home and she’s got Kraft Macaroni Pokemon Shapes and you decide to carry on living another day on this Earth and you turn the car off and go upstairs into your room and wait for your macaroni and your door opens and your dad walks in and fucks you in the ass.
… (*clears throat*)
I guess what I’m saying is, translating is stressful. So I don’t know if I will take another project or lay low. Four months from now, I am taking the Japanese Language Proficiency Test (JLPT) anyways. The most important test I will ever take. And if I fail, I have to wait a whole year to try again. Them shits only come once a year! The test is five levels: N1-N5. Passing the N5 test (lowest level) denotes that you can write up to 100 of those crazy written symbols known as 漢字 (kanji). These are letters borrowed from the Chinese alphabet. They look like this:
That is just two symbols. And no, I wasn’t calling you stupid. Are you the one that can speak Japanese? Wait, no that’s ME. Sorry. Yeah, I was calling you stupid. N1 is the most difficult test. That’s the one I’ll be taking. To pass this test, I will have to be able to read and write 250 kanji. Isn’t that nuts?? Know what’s even more nuts? That I left out a zero from the real number. To pass the N1, I’ll have to have memorized 2,500 kanji! (*Commits seppuku*)
Oh, and the reason I need to pass this test? I will need this certificate before they’ll even so much as glance at my resume at the place I have dreamt of working since I was in the prenatal stage. You know where I wanna work at, right? The best company ever:
In leisure news: I’m hyping pretty hard for a concert coming up in less than a week. It’s called “North Coast Music Festival”. It takes place in a park in Chicago. They tout it as, “summer’s last stand”. Bitch, summer ain’t ending! (Please don’t jinx it, guys.) Some good acts are playing, bands like Tycho and (gasp) The Chemical Brothers. Have you heard of those guys? They are responsible for one of the greatest music videos ever:
I have a very specific formula—a “10 Commandments for Enjoying Concerts” list that I abide by, every time I go to a show. I’ll share it with you guys if you are interested.
Well, that about does my
time this week. Join me next week for another edition of Explicit Exploits. Go study some kanji. And then get some tattooed on your body. Who cares what it means. Just pick the pretty ones. Always a winning formula.
