One of my best friends, Josh, came over to my neck of the woods last night. He left bustling Tokyo for a night in the middle of the inaka, just past the miles of rice fields. It was a way good call.
My life is so much more enjoyable after his visit that it's even a little difficult to express. I mean, I love going into Tokyo and going to weird bars and strange clubs and things; it's all well and good and fun. But, somewhere inside of me is a 12-year-old boy who really enjoys the prospect of a sleepover. We played Nintendo games, argued about Nietzsche, argued about fashion (and the reason I refuse to enjoy or participate in it), and then to top it all off, we drunkdialed and pranked places all over America. Some of our friends, some of our nemeses, former workplaces and I even called Noam Chomsky's office! His secretary said she was shocked that I thought I could just call and get a direct line without an appointment. I suppose, in sober-mind, it was a bit much to ask or expect.
But, then I woke up at 5 pm. And my stomach hurts. And, though I was planning on going out with Josh to Tokyo tonight, I called it off, because I can't do much besides watching tv or reading today. But, oh, what a night!
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