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Posts Tagged ‘元気な顔’

Enthusiasm

I’ve been told at times that I come on a little too strong.

My life philosophy has been, so far, that personal attachments are necessary.  Not only necessary, but integral to survival and life happiness.  The quality, and the personality, of people that you surround yourself with change who you are in both minute and astounding ways.  I crave these connections like Gustopher craves three square meals a day – once I decide there is a connection to be made there is next to nothing that could stop me from persuing that person, that friendship, that connection – no matter how fleeting it may become, or how painfully it might end.

It was with this same zest for connection [probably internally fueled by a desire to never, ever, be forgotten] that I met Monkeyface, my husband, at the tender age of fifteen, as well as twice more in ’04, resulting in a several month courtship dance with 楽良 and another whirli-gig friendship with Panda that ended as all carnival rides eventually do – in mayhem and death.

It probably does not help matters much that given the right circumstances, I am extremely gregarious.  I’ve been known to frolic about in public, handing candy to strangers, along with the reassurance that “it’s not poison, I promise! And it tastes delicious, too!” 

Basically, I’m terrifying.

I saw Monkeyface, once.  The first time, actually.  I skipped up to the counter in my Onii-san’s first workplace, bellowing for him to appear, as I had his dinner that he had mistakenly left at home and Dad was eyeing it – hungrily.  Onii was working the late shift, 6PM to midnight.  Instead of seeing his stark blonde hair appear from behind the counter, I was greeted instead by a boy with unkempt dark hair and a very confused look on his face.  Thrusting the meal at him, I said nothing more and flounced away, assured by the sandwich in his other hand that Onii’s lunch was safe, for at least a little while longer.  I met him again, this unkempt boy, several weeks later and immediately handed him a lei as I was entering my house and he and Onii were in the process of leaving.  Hours later, he returned with a Biggie fry [for me!] from Wendy’s, and the rest – as they say – was history.

Panda, too, was an instantaneous connection… And somehow, also, included food.  Jennmama and I met Panda by accident one pretty autumn evening; we were taking Japanese that semester and the entire department was having a get-together at a very delicious restaurant at the other side of town.  We decided we would definitely go; the food at least would be amazing and maybe our classroom would be a more welcoming place once we had met the kids sitting on the other side of the Great Divide.  Securing seats at a table in the corner, thereby able to eye the people entering the room suspiciously, we soon saw a familiar face flanked by several familiar-but-not-as-much faces. “ICHIBAN!” we shouted and waved our arms in the classic hurry-and-come-sit-with-us-before-the-smelly-kid-does fashion.  Ichiban then descended upon us with her herd from the other side of the classroom, including Panda.  We all had a great evening getting to know one another, complete with going out for ice cream afterwards.

A couple of weeks later, on All Saint’s Day, I shuffled into Japanese class as upset as I had been in years.  Duo, my hamster cohort and apartment mascot, had passed away the previous night due to way too many drunk college students, Halloween, and a fire alarm.  Panda called that evening, to ask if I was free.  We met at the park, and he handed me a bag of condolence Starbursts.  That was the start of an absolutely glorious friendship, this carnival ride of intense glee until we were rocketed off the end of the final, unfinished, roller coaster. 

I started off small, with these college friendships.  They began with notes, tucked under the windshield wipers of their cars.  Small gifts, tokens of affection, carted into class and left on desks.  The internets were watched ferociously, stalking like a silent predator through years and years of back entries and fastidious collection of instant message screen names.  For Panda, I spent an evening going through his personal blog, leaving a comment to every single entry spanning the past three or four years.

The final connection that I scared people to achieve would be that of 楽良.  楽良, my ichiban shinyuu and cohort.  We were so alike we terrified ourselves. 楽良 was the only Cool Kid sitting on our side of the Great Divide, and Jennmama and I had met her our first week of Japanese class.  Both being extremely intense individuals, but coming from insanely different ends of the spectrum in regards to life experience, we freaked ourselves out with how alike we were.  I invited her to my birthday party [happily she got to meet Duo before the demise!] where she brought re-inforcements because she was terrified of being alone with me and/or my friends.   It wasn’t until silly games of Assassin and Valentine’s Day picnics that we finally got past our similarities and were able to embrace the gooey, nugety soul twin inside of our friendship.  We were romancing each other, then, with tiny gifts of cookies, cakes, and notes of affection and budding adoration.

But I digress.

I can be frightening.  But on the inside, I am a puppy. Complete with wagging tail, playful bounces, and a partiality to chewing on things I shouldn’t.  I wish, one day, for people to realize that I exist in a vacuum.  Because I’m 顔, I would never poison you. Because I’m 顔, my cookies are full of love. Because I’m 顔, there is nothing deceitful or self-serving in my desire for friendship with you.  Because I’m 顔, I want to be friends with you simply because I think you’re awesome.  I just don’t know how to express myself in ways that aren’t me, that aren’t over-brimming with affectionate acts and cuddles, so forgive me, world, for being a little too over-enthusiastic.

So, what’s your favorite type of cookie? And won’t you come play with me?

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