The conversion to Yen got me yesterday. I thought I took out around 15 bucks from the ATM. Turns out I took out 150. And I finally made it out into town. It's a whole different world out there, not just the one that Grandma claims as different either. Needless to say there was a HUGE language barrier. I am at the counter of a fast-food joint showing 5 fingers, "number five???". She just points at the menu. OK. I give up. I point and laugh. Japanese girls are laughing at me from the right side of the building. I feel like an infant. I cannot function as an adult. I just throw some money down, take my food and run away.

I will post some pictures this week. It's unreal out here. Good photo-opportunities, though it's not paradise. It actually feels like the ghetto in New Orleans, only everything is miniature. The carwash outside base was shorter than I was. Oh, and the little shops, they sell hip-hop knock-off clothes. Don't they know I'm searching for something 'unamerican'? If I wanted a Yankees hat, I'd beat up 50 Cent and take it. I want a lime-green t-shirt that has Kanji letters that for all I can tell, spell "1/2 off Fuji-film at the ready-mart." That's hot!