Break in the New Year

My sister gave this to the Guy as a Christmas present. You get three guesses what it is.

It's a new year, and the old one ended -- for our little family at least -- well. There is a quality of isolation about staying with my mother, one which I mention every year; now that the Guy has seeded my mother's house with a dial-up account and a computer, there is some limited access available to us if we're really desperate enough.

On the other hand, the habits of gathering our news from the TV and radio are not available to us. Mom doesn't have cable. It's the weirdest thing.

We have no Christmas traditions in the Hirata household, or at least -- none that have survived to this date. Christmas eve was celebrated at our favorite Seattle-area sushi restaurant, Taka Sushi in Lynnwood. Among other attractions (the crispy rice sushi, which isn't made with cereal as its name suggests, but is actually deep-fried and delicious) they have a toilet imported from Japan with its very own arm-rest control panel.

A toilet with a control panel. Every time I walk into the restaurant, either my sister or my mother demands I go visit the bathroom.

I came back to the dinner table and found my sister putting down one of my pills. "This one tastes sweet," she told the Guy.

It was my cholesterol medication, a little pink pill, and it was curiously shiny. So was my diabetes medication, a longer, larger oblong white pill. Mom and the Guy stared at them, then exchanged glances. Then they looked at me.

"Sweet?" I echoed. I sat down and picked up my diabetes pill. It was damp. "You've been tasting my medication?!"

"I was curious," Sako said.

I turned on the responsible adults in the party. "And you didn't stop her?!"

My husband looked sheepish. Mom blinked, as though the idea hadn't even occurred to her. "We didn't know she was going to do it," the Guy said, lamely. "By the time we did--"

Any ideas what it is yet? Here. I'll give you a bigger hint.

New Years resolutions have never been a great success for me. Well, let's face it. I have the self-discipline of termite droppings. Nonetheless, I persevere. For your entertainment and edification below: My 2005 New Year's Resolutions.

I'm taking bets on how long I'll take to break them.

1. Make sure the kitchen sink is clean every night. Okay. Trivial stuff. I have to start small -- and if you see the number of dishes we go through each night, you'd realize that this is no small task. The Japanese like many dishes. My Mom insists that having many dishes on the table 'makes the meal taste better.' My personal opinion is that having lots of dishes on the table turns the night's dishwasher's food to ashes in her mouth.

2. Write a minimum of one journal entry per week. Always excepting unforeseen circumstances and Acts of God.

3. Finish the Book of Lilith. That story I was writing for Nanowrimo? I should really finish that. It was starting to get interesting, for one thing, and looking at it two months later, I'm actually not tempted to delete the entire thing. This is an accomplishment insofar as I'm concerned.

4. Get our personal finances in order. Big goal there. I've bought a book, even. Personal Finance for Dummies. Catchy title. Now all I have to do is open the damn thing.

5. Take my first Aikido test. Next step up for me: White Belt! (Hm. That doesn't sound half so impressive as I thought it would.) Taking my first test means that I'll have to go to Aikido on a regular basis. Exercise Good. I've abandoned the thought of trying to reduce my weight; I never seem to be able to make those goals. On the other hand, being more fit should help me burn more calories which should help me lower my blood sugar. It's all good.

6. Measure my blood sugar regularly. Having a real problem with this resolution already. For one thing ... I seem to have lost my glucose monitor. Really should find that. Unpacking can be so confusing.
   

As it turned out, Whole Foods would have been an excellent place to take the Guy's friend. It's interesting watching how different people react to a new country, whether as a tourist or as an immigrant; my mother's family is duly astonished by tourist places, as though they have been given instructions before leaving the motherland: Space Needle, Pike Place, Seattle Underground, Monorail. Go. And if they do not have their list checked off before they leave the country, harsh spankings will be had when they attempt to re-enter Japan.

The Guy's friend betrayed little interest in the landmarks of the city. On the other hand, he did take pictures of the following:

• Freeways.
  
• Suburbs.
  
• Construction.
  
• Skyscrapers.
  
• Fire escapes.
  
• Arcades.
  
• Police cars.
  
• Fire stations.
  
• Costco's meat section.
  

The Guy's friend was fascinated by Costco. "I can't believe how much stuff is here. Look at all this meat!" He was entranced by central air (heating). He was fixated on fire escapes that actually let people get out of burning buildings.

("You don't have those in England?"

"They prefer to let people die," explained the Guy. "Then they won't bother the National Health.")

We wandered through Seattle and spent about an hour in Gameworks so the two guys could play arcades. The Guy took movies. We went to the Cheesecake Factory.

He was blown away by Costco. He would've been floored by Whole Foods.

"Costco?" I asked the Guy, later.

"I admit it," he said. "I wanted to show him how England's basically a shithole."

Think you know what Sako got the Guy?

You don't. Believe me.

Give up?

A rubber ducky toilet seat.

Yeah. We don't get it either.