Day 4, Fuji from the Shinkansen

Oh those dire times, back in July 2008, when Madam, your blog mistress, with misgivings and many protestations of 寂しくなるだろうよ (I will miss you) was required to move back to the United States. Farewell, sake friends and sumo tournaments and my unbelievable Japanese teacher with her weekly regional treats and her tart ironic glance at her countrymen…

So, I embraced the moment and sought a new name for this blog. What fun, I would continue the blog in America, and Ambrose Bierce would be my standard-bearer. The blog was renamed!

A year-and-a-half goes by and I’m buying too much sake and reading back issues of Kyō no Ryōri (Today’s Cooking). I’m wondering why American bathtubs are so shallow and useless except for washing a sweater, where can a gal get a proper soak? I got nothing for a blog.

Sei Shonagon is fucking laughing at me. She’s in her layered silks and writing about how this fool arrived at court begging for scraps, singing bawdy songs. Nope, it was Sei’s bag all along. I may be located in Washington, D.C., but a piece of my is still in Japan.

I want to explore sake and Japanese culture, or what scraps I can find in the Washington, D.C. area. Of course, I may meander off topic. After all, I’m eating a white pizza while drinking a lovely junmai ginjo right this moment.

Therefore, the blog goes back to its maiden name, “You, madam, are no Sei Shonagon,” and there it shall remain.

I think.

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