My speech is about Japanese Cooking history. I researched about ohashi, bentou, kyuusu, tokkuri, and gohan (for this speech).

First, ohashi were brought to Japan from China in 500 AD. When they first appeared they were largely used by the nobility and made from bamboo. They are traditionally made of ivory, but now made from wood. Japanese eating ohashi are not made from metal since those are used in funeral services. Waribashi are disposable ohashi. They were introduced during the Meiji era. There are several types of waribashi, Koban, Genroku, Take, Maru and Rikyuu. Rikyuu were invented by Sen No Rikyuu, founder of the Chanoyu during the Edo period. The Rikyuu are largely used for sweets. Maru are used for special occasions such as festivals. Today there is a large tax on waribashi imported from China due to deforestation.

Bentou are said to originate in the 5th Century and made popular in the 16th by Nobunaga. Bentou were traditionally used by fishermen and hunters (among others) for meals during work. They consisted of rice, or rice mixed with potatoes or millet. Bentou boxes were originally leaves from oak, magnolia or bamboo. During the Edo period people began to bring bentou to social events. Most of these were Makunouchi bentou, small rice balls sprinkled with sesame seeds and a few side dishes. Many varieties of boxes were designed. Hangetsu, half moon, was invented by Sen No Rikyuu. Chabako, tea box, was used during tea ceremonies, Shokado was inspired by monk Shokado Shojo. The Shokado bentou are divided into four compartments, like his ink trays. During the Meiji era bentou became more popular . In 1885 eikiben were created to go with the new train system. Ekiben consisted of rice balls with umeboshi. Now they are used by many people and in restaurants as take out. There are 2-3 thousand different varieties. Many high class restaurants use bentou to serve Kaiseki Ryori, very high class food.

Now, there are two different types of teapots commonly used. Dobin is the largest and has a bamboo handle. Kyuusu are the second type. Kyuusu are used for sencha tea and were imported to Japan from China in the 17th century. They have a screen to keep the tea leaves in the pot. In the Kyuusu type there are three types. Tokonameware kyuusu are high quality pots made from terracotta. Yokode kyuusu are teapots with the handle on the side. Ushirode kyuusu have the handle in the back. Sake jugs are called Tokkuri and are used instead of the bottle. Sake was created out of rice for important ceremonies and today is often used to celebrate special occasions.

Rice was imported from China in the 2nd Century BC. Common rice used in Japan are Uruchimai and Genmai. Uruchimai developed in Japan as short grained rice. Genmai is less refined and can be used to make tea and noodles. Between the 8th and 12th centuries rice was established as a staple and eaten largely by the nobility. In the 13th century it was eaten by everyone. Evidence of rice cooking methods can be found as early as 500 BC.

Many different countries, such as China, have influence Japan's Cuisine. Therefore I find Japanese Culinary History very interesting.

Friday afternoon my husband, father in law, mother in law and I departed from my adopted hometown for a week long vacation. We were headed to Kansas first to see my mother in law's family. We passed through Eureka, St. Louis, Champagne, and many small towns like Pocahontas, who's claim to fame is an old mine. The first day was spent looking out the back passenger side window at the trees and hills, the likes I've not seen since I was a child moving across the country. Looking out at the sediment rocks carved for roadways brought to mind the many long trips my family took to find home after home. We got a room at a small hotel, the outside deceptive of the remodeled beauty of the rooms.

The next day after passing through Eldorado and Nevada I had my first taste of Sonic in the form of a chili cheese dog, those of you who remember the original Sonic cartoon will understand. I tried to let my mind remain as clear as possible. I would not let myself dwell on everything that's been stressing me out the past few months. My progress has been slow, but the persistence of some of my anxieties and depression triggers were trying their best to steal my attention away from the beauty flying past my window. Not too long after lunch we arrived in Iola, Kansas.

The reunion was hot and a bit humid. I met many people; I even got a cowboy hat tip from one of Joey’s uncles! I spent most of the time with Joey playing that tee peg game and walking by the lake. It wasn't as romantic as I wanted because I had to watch for a lot of duck and goose poop. The next day was the second half luncheon, over half the people from the night before weren't there. Joey left with his father and uncle to go golfing, leaving me alone with his mother and a bunch of people I didn't know. Luckily there were a lot of nice women there who weren’t shy about starting up a conversation. Unfortunately I was on nerve so much I felt like I was having a panic attack through most of it. But I think I can hide these things well enough.

We stayed at a relative's house, untouched by the floods that had just happened a few weeks before. I got sick one of the days because of the time difference. I'm used to eating lunch at noon and supper between five thirty and six thirty, but because my new uncle, father in law and husband had been golfing all afternoon we didn't eat until about nine. I was so weak and shaky, and since I was raised to be the best guest I can I was too polite to ask about a snack. We had steak marinated in something sweet, a baked potato and fresh, farm picked corn. I took one bite of the sweet steak and I wanted to vomit, my stomach was too empty for something sweet. I regret that I couldn't eat my steak; it was cooked exactly how I like it and the sauce was great. I ate the mild starches and finished off my meal upstairs in a spare bedroom eating Wheat Thins and watching the ceiling spin.

My mother in law, aunt (in law? I think that's how you say it), and I went through a lot of the towns that were hit by the flood, aside from I think it was Coffeeville. Apparently one of the oil wells wasn't shut off when the water came and so the town was covered in sewage and oil now. Many areas were still off limits and the reservoir was incredibly high. We went through a small subdivision where most of the houses had been condemned or torn down due to the damage. My aunt's former home was one of the ones now completely missing. A stop at the Russell Stover factory and outlet store rounded off our evening. I bought my family about nineteen dollars in sweets, most spent on my father's sugar-free chocolates.

A few more visits to relatives concluded my time in Iola, Kansas. On Wednesday we headed out for Okeene, Oklahoma. Oklahoma is a strange state to anyone not familiar with it. We passed swimming holes and ponds with red water, I thought at first that there was so much that the soil must be imbalanced with some weird mineral combination but wheat, hey, corn and cows seemed not to mind.

Now to say that it was hot is an incredible understatement. I had a terrible headache almost the entire time I was there but it was so interesting to drive up and down the farmlands, large patches of hey and wheat covered fields much different than I'm used to, and see where relatives used to live. Joey's grandfather had cattle on his farm, along with tomatoes, okra and a pear tree. The house was old, but full of so much history. The man of the house walked from room to room telling me and my mother in law stories of tornadoes, farming and traffic accidents due to wild sunflowers and overgrown weeds. A flood had happened in Okeene too, even reaching near the Grandpa Boeckman's house.

We visited more aunts and uncles, including one that shares facial features with Gary Senese, and even went bowling. The bowling alley was old and the only attraction for several towns so small if you blinked you’d miss them, but it had some really good food.

We visited a beautiful golf course in Watonga, Roman Nose national park. The view was incredible and there was an almost constant cooling breeze making the heat bearable. Fairview golf course was not as impressive but it was still nice, I saw quail!

Our trip was nearing its end on Saturday. We left Okeene for Inola to stay the night with relatives again. I met another aunt and uncle and played Skip-Bo, a game I haven't seen in more than seven years.

On Sunday I realized for the first time that Indiana is my home. We drove around to my immediate family dropping off gifts of chocolate and wind catchers before returning to our apartment. The trip was incredibly stressful due to meeting new people and being un-prepared for it mentally and emotionally I was glad to be home, but I still had a lot of fun and enjoyed spending time with my new extended family.

This is just a random rant of things that have been making my blood boil lately. I'm so tired of the loli anime, or moe as it's now being called. Shows like Moetan make me...nauseous. I've never been a fan of fan-service either, because it's a cheap gimmick that is used to make up for quality character designs and a wonderful plot line shows like that lack. They distract people from how horrible the show and concepts are by flashing them with panty shots and breasts so un-proportional that they'd cause back problems and have major sagging issues in the future.

When I think of shows like Moetan I think of only one thing: pedophile. I'm not saying that people who like the show or watch that genre are but when I see, essentially, children with their skirts flying over their heads and trying to act cute about it the only people I can think of who would like that sort of thing would be creeps who have a sick penchant for children.

Now there is a show called Azumanga Daioh that is being thrown into that mix and I do like that one. I find it to be funny, and charming, and if you notice there is a drought of panty shots and such in comparison to other shows in that new genre. I like it for the same reasons I like Yotsuba & (from the same guy): it's funny, simple, and clean.

Well, that’s it for now.

It's kinda funny. I'm supposed to have 10 pages of poetry for class written by the end of the semester and I already have 8! :-).

Death of god

My feet were aching
as I saw you approach
You were beautiful.
Syllables erupted from some
indescribable part of my
center, but stifled 
by fear and
propriety, my lips
refused to form.

We loved ever since. 
The perfection manifested
Many times into
sublime beauty,
a last breath to confess. 

The fire that escapes
my being burns nerves
now dead from the heat.
I love it, this wonderful being.
I don’t know if he 
looks like you,
you are beautiful.
But my vision is gone
and I can no longer
hear your words.

Quality Time

She looks up at me,
Through my eyes,
Through my bangs,
And with my lips says
She loves me.

He stares down at me,
I try to share his breath.
I press my ear to his chest,
To hear the hollow beating.

This unfathomable creature
Sitting on my lap
Is so small I can 
Almost not feel her.

He changes the channel
As I let the book slide
From my tiny
Insignificant
Hands.

Ok, just so everyone knows Death of god is a reference to the Japanese creation myth (found in Kojiki most recently for me) when Izanami (I think, its the female god) dies during the birth of her son.

Idiom

"The needle that breaks
Will be take out of the
Cushion" Mother says while
She places before me
Blackberries in juice
As the wind licks the
Shingles off the roof.
The clouds are gone 
From the howling voice
That bellows its protestations.

Regarding William

Minute are the differences between us
The world that separates us
 Is barren of life,
Nothing could ever live there.
Smolder in your ideals while
Preaching.
The choir is deaf that supports you
Absence of penis or a 
Wealth of melanin scares you 
Into a rant.
I am content to watch you
Twist in the wind.

Guardian

I ruined your dress,
I'm sorry.
Its beautiful crimson matched your
Perfect lips and the curl of your hair.
Now it is torn and soiled
From our long trek in filth.

You don't know who I am.
I don't deserve 
As winged, clear muse
As you.
Watching you dance
And hum to yourself,
So familiar in a place
You've never been, with 
Someone you've just met.

Ok, Guardian is actually a character poem for "In the Eyes of Sinn". A story I'm writing that can be found at www.fictionpress.com.

Here is the revised version of Exotic. It went through a Poetry workshop at school and so I decided to make it less ambiguous(as per classmate suggestions).

Exotic

The smells are enticing,
Entrancing, hypnotic to 
A nose with no 
Experience or familiarity

I can barely read the
Labels that line the shelves, but I want
To try.
I can, right?

I look at the products and
Plastered in large red letters are words like:
Thai seasoned, Asian flavored,
Spicy Mexican, none adequate to describe
What is behind the pictures
Of squinty men with rickshaws or
Over sized, bright sombreros 

The clerk sees me lick my lips at these
Succulent wonders inside deceitful packaging
And can only say
"They are too spicy for you."

"How dare you shut me out!
I want to taste, smell
Everything that makes them different.
Is this so much a crime?

"You see me in the others. 
But you are more blind than
They are,
Walking past the windows of 
Your store,
Refusing to come in.

"If they peek,
The giggle at your
Produce, nose upturned
And say their pallet's too refined.

"But I am not 
The passer-bys.
I want to break in
While they cleave to what it means 
To be Asian, Mexican, Black, man, woman
Or even human at all."

This desire stems from 
A life stewed in Peyote,
Jalapeño, and heavy cream.
But I don’t own any,
Nor can I taste the differences.

"You're a fraud in your own skin."
The clerk yells at me.
When I ask what it means 
Hypocritical spurts of acid are all I receive.

"Why won't you let me in!"
My eyes well in frustration.
What am I doing wrong?
How did I offend in trying to 
Experience, to fathom 
Uniqueness?

I'm shoved out of the store
To a crowd of gazes, sneering
At the mutt-like mixture that has
Failed to capture her flavors.
But I laugh at them,
And my seasonings 
That have been drowned in water.

I walk down the street
To my home,
Past restaurants that have
Banned me.

Even my taste buds are unwelcome to flavors I should know.
My tongue can't wrap
Around the dishes offered
And I feel as if I'll starve.
The proprietors stand in the doorway,
Accepting the regulars,
But shake their heads 
As I pass.

Salt is all I can taste
As I sit down to my meal
Of hot dogs and
Macaroni and cheese.

Amazing how much it changed, ne?