Freak posted this link on his Facebook, but I wanted to elaborate a little bit. I read Sandra Tsing-Loh's piece in the Atlantic about the demise of marriage a while ago. I was annoyed, but couldn't really put my finger on it. Sort of a low-level irked. Then found this article today that's basically a rebuttal. It's certainly funnier than Loh has ever been.

First off, I only know Sandra Tsing-Loh from KPCC, where she does the excruciating "Loh Down" segments. They're 60-second clips that I think are supposed to be a humorous take on science news. I say "I think" because 1) they're not funny, and 2) I don't learn anything sciencey from them.

A typical clip goes something like this:
"A new study shows that cats can control their owners by purring...
Interesting. I wonder how that works?

"Here's some random rambling about my own cat."
No! I wanted to hear about the study!

"... and that's just purr-fect." "This was brought to you by CalTech and KPCC."
ARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGG*headsteeringwheel*

Seriously. Every segment. Something probably interesting followed by tangentally related rambling, then a lame punch line. Not that I'm bitter. But one of the nice things about not having to commute too far is that odds are good that I'll miss her "science" segments.

So the other day, I heard her on regular-NPR (Noo!! It's spreading!!). Apparently, she's getting divorced, and wrote an article about it. *sigh* And showing the same insight and research she brings to KPCC every morning, she's decided that marriage must be an outdated and obsolete institution.

Good lord.

Number one. Call me old-fashioned, but airing your family's dirty laundry in The Atlantic is just tacky. (Loh class?)

That said, what's with the passive voice? Reading Loh's article, you'd get the impression that she had no control over the situation. I don't even know what happened, I just woke up one day I was divorced like oh my god. Excuse me? Divorce isn't something that just happens out of the blue, any more than getting married just happens.

Also, just because your marriage didn't work out like you'd hoped doesn't mean the institution itself is to blame. Marriage is a remarkably flexible construct. There are as many kinds of marriage as there are kinds of couples-- hell, even gay people are getting married now-- and somehow, it still works because each couple defines their own union. If you're not creative enough to think outside the Ozzie-and-Harriet mold, that's your problem. I wonder if she would whine about how educational policy because she didn't graduate on time?

It's a good thing Aaron Traister put it better than I can:

"I'm sick and tired of is divorced people speaking as though they are oracles from the future who know how the rest of our unions will turn out. All the marriage bashing going on out there feels like a way of shedding a certain amount of personal responsibility. By telling the world the institution is flawed, or that we've somehow outgrown it, nobody has to own up and admit that it was their interpretation of it that was screwed up."

Tags: rant

Ohh.. she knows where I sleep. Dammit!

( wet cat is always funny. )

Tags: wildlife

Where do I find a farmers market in North Hollywood? Biking distance would be ideal-- we live in the arse-end of NoHo by the airport. Anyone?

(I would go to the one in Hollywood, but the thought of trying to park down there on a Sunday makes me a little twitchy.)

the captain is: forkin' hot

More pictures! From Hiroshima:



And Nara...



And Kyoto:



And tomorrow we're home. Probably jet-lagged all to hell. If we're a little loopy, that's why. See you soon!

the captain is: tired

Ok, so I promised an update after Fuji.

After we gimped back to the fifth station, we changed into some dry clothes and hauled our carcasses back to the bus and the lovely Fuji-View hotel, which is everything that Fuji is not. The anti-Fuji.

No rain. No snow.
Cheerful staff.
Tasty food.
Warm beds.
On-site masseuse.

The staff was a little puzzled when we asked if they had laundry service, until we explained we were on Fuji and showed them our shopping bags of wet, festering clothes. They promptly showed us the washing machine downstairs. We had to do the wash ourselves, but hey-- free laundry. Even if we did have to use the Japanese dryer that doesn't actually "dry".

(Three hours to dry some jeans and tshirts. Coleman says this is common. Ok. I think it's a conspiracy to force people to save energy by just hanging things outside.)

Once our stuff was in the wash, we crashed out on the futons in our room. Futon has never felt so good. We oozed out of bed later to check on the laundry (still wet) and walk around the hotel. It seems that this particular hotel has been around since the war-- there were pictures of American GIs and their wives in the observation booth.

We checked on our laundry again (still wet) and went to go eat dinner. The hotel had a fancy restaurant attached, so since we cheaped out on our other accomodations, this was a good chance to live it up a little. Sort of.

After dinner, we went to the masseuse who rubbed some feeling back into our feets, and soaked in the onsen (hot spring) for a while. I also sat in the sauna until I was pretty sure I'd roasted all traces of pnuemonia out of my lungs. My legs almost didn't hurt afterward. :)

Bonus... we couldn't see Fuji from the Fuji-View hotel. Which was just fine with us.

I'm running out of time at the internet cafe, but we went to Osaka and Hiroshima next. The photos are here, but I haven't been able to caption them all yet. Getting to it...

Thanks for all the birthday wishes. :) I spent the day at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial, and then had okonomiyaki and sang karaoke with Mika and her friends. Hope everyone had a good Fourth and hope you all still have all your fingers.

Awwwwww... you guys are so sweet. You really shouldn't have, but it's just what I wanted. :)

>Palin to resign as governor of Alaska

Hoo boy. Where to even start. How about the bottom?

We got on a bus from Shinjuku station in Tokyo, which would take us to the fifth station of Fuji. As we approched the mountain, we could see clouds at the top, which made it look like it was wearing a big cloudy hat cocked to one side. Whimsical, but now that we were going to climb this thing, it was a little disturbing.

Some people will tell you that it's best to climb Fuji-san at night, so you can enjoy the sunrise from the top. Those people are on crack.

When we got to the station, there was a gift shop, a cheery song about how great Fuji is was playing on repeat. I'm trying to find it on the Internet to share the pain, but I don't know what it's called. (This song got stuck in my head. It's funny for about an hour, but then it starts mocking you by, oh, about hour six.) We tried to find a spot for my bag, but the lockers were *just* a little too small. Doh.* We tried to ask the gift-shop guy to watch it for 500￥, but he wasn't having it. Undeterred, we hid it on some stairs behind some boxes of souvenirs. Mondainai. (no problem.)

We got our walking stick, adjusted our lights, and we were off! See how happy we look?



That's not going to last.

As we ambled down the path to the first station, we got hit with a blast of wind. Not a light breeze-- this was like God herself giving you a shove in the back. Or the front. Or whatever direction you happened to be facing. The wind also brought a handful of volcanic grit straight into your eyes. Nice. Luckily, we had thought to bring masks. Mondainai.

Then Coleman's iPod froze. He had been looking all over Tokyo for replacement headphones so he wouldn't have to climb in silence, but now that he had headphones, the player was dead. Not that you could hear much through the wind, anyway.

As we got up to the first of the sixth stations, it started to sprinkle rain. We were prepared for this, and had thought to bring ponchos. Mondainai.

The rain got harder as we went on. Combined with the wind, it was actually raining sideways as we climbed over more boulders on the way up. On the up side, this meant no more flying grit.

On the down side, this meant that every surface of you that would have been merely gritty was wet instead. Also, every few minutes, we would hear the wind, and have to flatten ourselves against the rocks while the wind rocketed around us. Despite Coleman's insistence that "no one has ever been blown off the mountain," I was convinced that if we weren't getting blown off, then at least one of us would slide off and lose something/break something/die.

I lost track of the stations that we passed-- they were closed, or the guy inside would take one look at the people standing outside shaking, and tell us to move on. And then.. the boulders. No, it's not just switchbacks all the way to the top, there's some boulder climbing involved. It's challenging enough by itself, but in freezing rain, with wind blasting around you and your gloves shredded from the volcanic rocks and the shards of your bag flying in your face as you try to hold on to the god damn mountain... that would be a special circle of hell.

Around the one of the seventh stations, I sort of had a meltdown. See, I can deal with rain, cold, dark, wind, certain death, frostbite, but all of it at once? Not even I'm that tough. I knew this wouldn't be easy-- Coleman had described it as Mount Doom-- but it was more like Caradhras.**

After sniveling for a while in the bathroom--the station guy wouldn't let us into the station with the kerosene heater-- we finally got moving again after Coleman made a few good points. 1) we couldn't stay all night in the bathroom without freezing to death. 2) the start of the downward slope was only a few stations above us, and climbing up to chicken out there would be better than backtracking down all of the boulders we just climbed. 3) he was freezing his ass off and would you get yourself together, woman.

Once we started going, that's when we noticed the snow. FUCK.

I had had it on good authority from several sources that there would be hot soup and coffee at the top. For the last hour or so of climbing, the only reason I was moving forward is because the theoretical coffee at the top was closer than the coffee at the bottom.

Supoosedly, the mythical sunrise from the top of Fuji is supposed to make the whole climb worthwhile. We didn't get to see it. Instead, the inky black turned navy blue. Then twilighty. Then grey and windy and snowing. Fuck.

At the top of the mountain, there is a torii gate that lets you know you have only another 30-40 minutes to climb.. you're supposed to leave a coin in the cracks. I gave it a good whack with my stick. Fucking Fuji.

But we did make it to the top. After climbing overnight for seven hours, we finally, finally, finally, made it to the top, and... nothing. All of the stations were closed. No coffee. No soup. No heaters. Coleman slipped on the ice amid a volley of swearing that got lost on the howling wind. I just started crying again. We have audio of this-- the camera started recording when Coleman landed on it.

To make matters worse, the descending trail, which is a cakewalk compared to the ascent, was blocked off. Too much snow. AR$D'!&!)$''!!! We had to backtrack over the boulders *sob* and unclimb every step we just took to get off the mountain. What should have taken two hours took us four, since I kept slipping on the boulders and was petrified of breaking something. (It might have been better if I had broken something.. then we could take a helicopter down.)

Thankfully, the next stop was at the Fuji-View Hotel, which was everything that Fuji itself was not. Bonus: We couldn't see the "#D'&_!!! mountain while we recuperated. That will have to be the next post..

---------
* If anyone wants to get me a present for my next birthday, a giant backpack that can compress a few inches would be swell. Better than the wheelie suitcase.

** When the Nine tried to take the pass through the Misty Mountains, a storm blew up Mount Caradhras. Every time they tried to move forward, the mountain would dump more snow and wind and push them back. Eventually the party turned back and went through the mines of Moria. / nerd

I just about had a heart attack this afternoon. We have rail passes. Sort of. For the JR trains, they sell special passes for foreigners visiting Japan. Buy the pass, and you get admitted to all the JR trains. In theory, when you get to the station, you show your pass to the guy/gal in the booth, and they let you walk through the gate.

In practice, the station is busy, and the workers are bored, so no one bothers to look at the passes real closely. To this end, Coleman has become something of a forgery master. He takes an old pass, photoshops a new "inside" with a current date and pastes it into the folder. For the whole time we've been here, the rail people have barely glanced at them.

Fast forward to today. Today we went to pick up shinkansen tickets (you have to get special tickets for the bullet trains), and the lady at the counter asked to see our passes. And she actually looked at them. Put them side by side so it was obvious that they were both very different colors.

Ohshitohshitohshitohshit--

Then she handed us our bullet train tickets and told us to have a good day.

*faint*

I will never doubt the power of the gaijin pass again.

We're watching the feed for Ground Control live in Japan. Even though we're in the homeland of karaoke, gotta have the karaoke fix. ;)

I had something weird happen when I was looking for coffee at the convenience store. I was checking the cans in the cold section-- Cocoa latte, milk latte, something with mint, and oh my god I'm actually reading. YES! I'm also writing down the most common kanji that are everywhere so I can try and memorize them.

Today's activities were a trip to the Imperial Palace gardens. The emperor's palace is closed to the public, but there's a section of the gardens that are open for the rabble to walk through. Very pretty. It's like a slice of forest in the middle of a big city. Of course, there are pictures when we get back to the hotel.

After that, we got back on the train to Ebisu and the Yebisu beer museum. It's on the site of the old Sapporo beer factory, and has a bunch of memorabilia from when they started making beer there in the 1800s. I think I got the general gist of it, even though all of the signage was in kanji. Better yet, they have a tasting room, and for 500￥ (about $4USD) you can get a sample of four of their beers.

I have the best husband ever for letting me drag him all over Tokyo. Tomorrow, it's Harajuku for a haircut and general hanging out, and then it's on to Fuji-san.

Tags: travel
the captain is: good

More pictures! Now updated with Giant Gundam Goodness, plus Akihabara and Makiko. :D