4/30

Recap of the day:

Hit the Lambda house in around the noon time to see people and say what's up. Unexpectedly they are getting drunk and partying, but who else should be there than Cass. Of course if he's there then nothing will be quiet. Despite that, it was nice to say what's up to everyone, even if I did only stop by for less than an hour. Don't want to overstay the welcome.

Next, head to the dentist to check out my toothache. It doesn't appear to be a cavity, but rather that my teeth are shifting around to their natural state that my braces had fixed and I had failed to maintain by wearing retainers. The source of the pain seems to be because instead of my teeth fitting nicely with each other, they are crashing into each other leading to nerve pains. It may be because I grind my teeth while sleeping, but a more likely source might be from things like Coachella and the illicit festivities I took part in which led to more chewing. In any case, I received some special tooth paste and hopefully it'll mend the pain rather than having to go to some other drastic measure.

My phone being functional but severely outdated, I had to wait and keep messing with the thing to get a data signal. I noticed on the map that there was the Museum of Jurassic Technology was nearby so I decided to check it out since it's always been a source of interest. I walked in and was able to take a peak at since it was my first time there and I didn't really know what the deal was. Even though it was only a quick glance through the place I was intrigued by everything I saw. It was a weird cross section of what looked like fake fossils and records, strange tools and instruments, and other displays that looked vaguely mythical or occult. I'm intuitive interest was right and I'll have to make a trip there sometime. Probably by myself.

By now it was around 4pm and I hit up Lansing to chill for a little bit before picking up Dad from the airport. We walked her crazy ass dog for a little bit then head to Backhouse so she could grub even though I was saving myself for a big dinner at Foo Foo Tei - the best ramen spot, if you ask me. We updated each on what was new with our lives, her relationship troubles, and whatnot. I feel like our personalities are polar opposite from each other and she can be overbearing sometimes because of her sheer energy and bubbliness which may be borderline ditzy, but I enjoy spending time and talking to her nonetheless. I don't feel as judged by her as I do by other people despite me still being me. Our hang out was cut short because my Dad's flight landed early.

The pick up went smoothly with no trouble. I've gotten pretty used to picking people up from LAX now even if it still a massive clusterfuck most of the time. Everyone in Japan seems fine from what he tells me, but it's hard to know how much he's actually telling me. Dad would rather talk about the straight facts and physicality of things rather than talking about how people seemed to be feeling or how he's feeling. Maybe that's just a Japanese / Asian thing though. Who knows.

Dinner at Foo Foo Tei was good as always. Head chef and jolly fat man Murakami-san joined us  to eat this time. Dad was real sparse on the details about what he did in Japan and his stop over in Korea to get his new Japanese passport stamped, but it was interesting trying to listen to what him and Murakami were talking about. Hard because I can only get glimpses of what he was talking about it. While waiting for our table, Dad took a cigarette from Murakami and smoked it right in front of me. I've seen him smoke before in the shadows, but I think this was the first time that he smoked right there in front of me. I only caught some parts of the conversation because 1. my Japanese is awful and 2. it has half hushed. I suspect it had to do something with meeting some girls in Korea or something, but I couldn't be too sure. That's the first place my mind wanders to when thinking of him. I never felt him to be the most faithful to Mom. That line of thinking only got more interesting when Murakami started talking about my next Mom being Korean and how Koreans are very good at Japanese. Then, I think, because his hand was forced, Dad showed me an email from a Korean girl who had written to him in good Japanese. Shit, I could hardly read half of it, but why would he have such a thing when he said he was only there for one day? And that's nothing to say of Murakami-san's constant jabs. It's not too hard to put two and two together and it would only confirm suspicions that I've had my whole life. If it was true, part of me would feel angry, but why? I mean beyond the obvious, but what does it really matter? Mom is gone and he's still alive. What's wrong with him living out life to the fullest while he can? Maybe because of all this shit he's done in the past, but in the end it's not like my upbringing was particularly awful or traumatic. He's not a saint and I shouldn't expect him to be. The thought hurts nonetheless. In a disappointing way, not necessarily in a filled with anger sort of way.

-end