Man Titties and a Mantis

In an effort to ward off the man boobies and premature middle age paunch that my genetics are inclined to provide, I joined a gym this week! Located but a brief 4 to 5 minute walk from the apartment and actually on my route to my school, this gym is the pinnacle of convenience. Surprisingly, is has both machines AND free weights, a rare commodity in Japan. It is owned by an older couple who speak in a really strong Oita dialect but they seem to like foreigners so don't mind repeating their sentences several times for me. The members are also pretty groovy dudes. In fact, I have already been taken under wing by a gym regular who has decided that he wants me to become big. To document my progress under his tutelage, I'm going to post before and after pictures on my blog. The picture you see above is what I Iook like now: little and whimpy. However, my new trainer says that in three months time I will basically triple the amount of weight I am able lift and will not look like such a sissy. We shall see, I guess.This whole not being a sissy thing will be a big change for me as over the years I have perfected it into a finely tuned science. I was disappointed, however, that he does not call me grasshopper like the monks called David Carradine in the "Kung Fu" TV series. Maybe next week though...

In other interesting news, I saw another one of Oita's giant bugs!!! Coming home the other night there was an enormous praying mantis in the stairwell. I wanted to take a close-up picture but was afraid that it would attack me, bite me, or karate kick my ass (it is a Japanese praying mantis after all) and so I kept a safe distance. Although I took the picture from afar it did not like the flash at all and started storming up the stairs after me. I narrowIy escaped and yet live to tell my tale. Anyhow, the point of this story is that the bugs here are big and ugly and I am not to keen on the idea of finding one awaiting me on my pillow or in my closet so from now on the windows remain shut.

And one last thing. Last night my supervisor and his wife came over for dinner. We made them a meal of the international variety, namely, we served them hamburgers, french fries, and brownies. It was the only traditional American meal we could think up. Not to flout our own work, but (there is always a but isn't there?), it was absolutely amazing. In my humble opinion, they were lucky to been invited to a feast of such quality. They stayed and talked for a long time and it was indeed good time. Anyhow...

IMPEACH BUSH!