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Gettin' Shit Done
Well, aside from the averted disaster that I related yesterday, the last two days have actually gone very well despite the fact that I've been sleeping badly and waking up far too early (indeed, I think this has actually helped me get stuff done.)
I woke up early yesterday, mailed my last two boxes, went to my favorite cafe for the last time. Did some shopping for the things people had asked for - and actually found some of them (I'll be looking for the rest tomorrow). Came home, messed around with my laundry. Made a round trip to my hotel - which took 5 hours - to drop off one of my two suitcases. Bopped out again to go to Akihabara one last time. Discovered that a really good gift for a friend would be available today, so I went back today. Ha. Did a lot of "lasts," especially in regards to my favorite foods and my favorite places. I wasn't sad, though, which surprised me. I'm saying "また明日", not "さよなら". It's the only way to explain I can think of: in Japanese, good bye is "see ya tomorrow," or "see ya!" If you say "sayonara," you mean good bye forever. It's kind of like the difference between "bye!" and "farewell" in English. And I don't feel like I'm saying farewell, which is keeping me from feeling too sad.
What was best about yesterday, though - and what I originally was going to write about until the mitigated passport disaster - was language. Because yesterday, and I think for the last week or so, Japanese just "clicked," and it's been WONDERFUL. Oh, I don't understand everything, not at all, but at least I now understand the things I should have been able to understand from the beginning. All along, I've been afraid to ask even simple questions because I never could understand the answers - I knew the words, but I couldn't catch them. Yesterday, I realized I was asking the questions, and I was understanding the answers. Or at least the explanations! So, for example, I asked the ticket lady: ヒルトンを知っていますか？ (do you know the Hilton Hotel?) and she exclaimed that I must be looking for the bus - which I was - and then explained where it was. I didn't understand a word, so she tried again: 東口、住友ビルの前に. And I understood! Oh, the East exit by the Sumitomo building, I echo her in Japanese, and she nodded cheerfully, and I found the fricken bus stop. I couldn't have done that a month ago, I'd not have followed what she said no matter how hard I tried. And that wasn't the only time, it happened like 4 times at different places and on different topics - including an entire conversation with a man at Sensoji. It's continued today, too. I'm SO happy, though it seems like a kick in the teeth that this happens just before I leave. Still, I have grand plans - and not terribly time consuming grand plans - to try not to lose what I've gained, which involves doing the things I've been doing here: watching unsubtitled TV and reading manga. :)
Anyway, today has gone pretty well as well. I woke up far to early, cleaned my apartment til it shone in preparation for my move out inspection tomorrow morning, and then headed out. My apartment cleaning went faster than I had feared, and this was wonderful, since it meant I had time to go to Tsukiji. It's only the fourth time I've been, and I really wanted to again, because I've never had such good Tuna sushi any where else. 14 pieces of the best sushi I've ever eaten, and because I went at lunch it cost me 13 dollars. Most of it was tuna, though I also had a little salmon and 2 tamago ones, which I used to think were a silly waste of time but which I've come to rather like. It was heaven.
Then, I went back to my apartment, gathered up my computer and my other suitcase, and came to check in to my hotel. On the train - which is an hour+ ride to Narita - I met three very nice people, a man, his girlfriend, and his son, who were from Australia (the boy was SO cute...only 17 though, sigh...) and had a very friendly chat about stuff with them. Got to the hotel, got my room, discovered I'd blistered my hand pulling the damn suitcase, stuffed my face at a very good, rather expensive buffet, and contemplated something that the Australian's had mentioned. Which is why when I finish typing this, I'm going to repack my bags and throw away a bunch of my clothing. Easy come, easy go; it all came from Goodwill anyway, and I'm sick of these bags killing me; they'll be heavy enough even if I do this. And I'll have fun replacing stuff.
Anyway, the internet costs by the minute, so I should stop. Tomorrow will be my last day in Tokyo, starting with a very early rising to get to my move out inspection in time. Oh, and I'm probably not going to write tonight, so no Hogwarts. I just really don't feel like it.
So I believe I mentioned that I was quite unhappy with how things had gone the last couple entries. In that spirit, today, after I finished the afore mentioned repacking project, I decided to delete the last two days worth of entries and start over from right after the Headmaster's speech. I'm MUCH happier with it this time, so I won't be reverting. :)
Nobody moved, not a sound was heard. The Headmaster was dead. Hogwarts was about to be attacked. Palucid Nox was revealed the villain, not that any one had ever really believed him to be anything but. Action had to come from somewhere, but there didn’t seem a ready source; the Headmaster sat down in his seat at the staff table, but the other teachers all watched him, riveted, and didn’t stir. It was like hypnosis, and we all suffered from it, capitaved, stunned, horrified.
Professor Lindelthwaite, on the other hand, seemed to be just about the only person in the hall utterly unaffected. I wondered if she’d even heard what he’d said. No, I thought, that was unfair; the stooped little divination teacher was going to die tonight. My eyes filled with tears which weren’t deterred by the utter absurdity of the little teacher humming cheerfully as she headed towards the doors. “Well,” she twittered, “I’m going to set up the portal in the southwest tower. It will take me, oh, about 3 hours I expect, be ready to go then, dreadful things will happen if some of you can’t make it through, and I don’t expect I’m strong enough to hold it open for more than, say, about 5 minutes.” She paused thoughtfully before stating the number as if chatting over tea. A tear slipped down my cheek. “Well, no use putting it off!” And she walked out of the room.
As if it was a cue, the shuddering bangs of the Great Hall doors closing behind her seemed to break the spell that had kept us all so still. Professor Lestrange stood up, smoothed her robes, and spoke with utter confidence. “Prefects, which of you intend to stay?” Marcus and I stood up, neither checking with the other, neither hesitating. Both of the Gryffindor Prefects rose as well, and one of the Slyherin’s. That left only three. Professor Lestrange nodded. “Very well. Stein, Rubins, Ullery,” she called off the three prefects who had not risen, “please get the students who do not wish to stay organized. She eyed the Gryffindor table as if disgusted, and then pointed, apparently at random. “You,” the student in question, who I didn’t know, looked astonished. “You are now a prefect. You will get your house in order with the rest. Everyone will meet at the Southwest Tower in one hour. If you run in to any difficulties, deal with them or forget about them, because there is no time.”
As soon as she finished, and the bustle began, Professor Tremens’ and Professor Patronius took up positions on either end of the staff table, and a few students pushed towards them through the throng of those heading towards the exit. It seemed a pitifully small number, heading towards one or the other, towards the sky defense force or the anti-Werewolf army, and I felt numb, utterly numb. How ever could we succeed? The attack, in two hours, and the defense need hold for another hour after that so that Professor Lindelthwaite could complete her gateway, and even if every of-age student in the school volunteered, we’d still not have an army of more than 40. As it was, I thought it looked more like half that number. The others were choosing to flee; with the odds that we faced, who could blame them? And the Headmaster was dead! Tears flowed down my cheeks.
Without saying a word, Marcus took my hand. For long moments, neither of us moved from where we had risen at Lestrange’s words. Finally, he spoke softly. “You could still go. I wish you would.”
I turned to him and smiled, tear tracks down my cheeks. “Hogwarts is my home; I won’t let the Headmasters’ killers defile it. And I’m Head Girl. Those students are my – are our – responsibility. We can’t let anything happen to them. And you’re being terribly unfair – I haven’t tried to ask you to leave, for all that I wish with all my heart to know that you are not in danger.”
He sighed. “I suppose that’s true. If you will forgive me, I will not ask again.”
“And if I won’t forgive you?”
“I still won’t ask again.” We smiled dopily at each other, and I laughed. “Where do you think to defend?” He asked when the moment had passed.
“Certainly against the army,” I replied without hesitation. “I’m a complete buffoon with spells, and I’ve no potions that will be of any use against a zeppelin. I fear I never saw much purpose in exploding potions; generally, if they exploded, it meant I’d done something wrong.” I tried to smile about it, but now talk of the battle was too sobering, and I fear I must have looked rather dreadful, for his face clouded with concern.
“I feared you would say that,” he sounded worried, as well. “Given my own abilities, and the weapon which you so obligingly gave me, and that I have experience in that department, I thought I’d take to the skies.”
“I thought you might.”
“Say the word,” he took my hand, and looked in my eyes with honest intensity, “and I will stay by your side.”
“No,” I shook my head. More tears fell. “It makes more sense for you to tackle the zeppelins, and me the werewolves. That’s where we each can do the most good.” He hung his head, and I took my hand from his and went over to Professor Patronius. He had assembled a small group of students; three 5th years I didn’t know, along with Caius Serence, the huge Deletrious Grindlewald, Celestine and, I was surprised to see, Lycia. No one else seemed to be moving his way.
“Glad to have you onboard, Ms. Prince,” he said by with of greeting.
“Is this all of us?” I asked. I felt a little faint. Nine of us versus an army of werewolves! We were all going to die, I thought gloomily, before quashing such fancies. They could do no good, and much harm. We would apparate from harm. We would hold for one hour, and then we would flee. I couldn’t imagine how we’d hold for a minute.
“Looks that way,” the Professor made an attempt at good heartedness, but it failed and instead he just sounded determined. “We’ll give it a few more minutes, then we’ll start our plan.”
I nodded and went to stand with the others. I was about to greet Lycia and Celestine when I noticed that amidst all the activity in the hall, one figure hadn’t moved. The Headmaster still sat at his seat at the staff table, his hands folded before him. His eyes were a million miles away; I wondered what he saw. “I’ll be right back,” I smiled weakly at my friends, and they nodded without a hint of a return smile, and I walked over to Headmaster Nigellus.
“Are…” I swallowed. What an absurd question! And yet… “Are you alright sir? As alright as you could be? Do you need any help?”
“What?” he started. His eyes looked slightly filmed over, in the way of one recently dead. “Oh, Ms. Prince. No, I’m quite alright. I’m simply considering the defense of the castle. Most of the defenses are within the walls, not without, so they will be what holds if the students outside are forced to flee.” I felt vaguely comforted that he did not suggest we would die, only that we would be driven from our posts. “Are you staying, Ms. Prince?” I heard the hints of that concern for my welfare that he had shockingly demonstrated at Christmas.
“I am, sir.”
“Are you quite sure you are alright to do so? Professor Tremens’ mentioned to me that you’d had an injury at the Greenhouse?”
I marveled at the teachers’ ability to share information with each other despite the utter lack of any time when such knowledge could have been communicated. “I’m quite well,” I replied, trying to sound hearty. I didn’t feel well, in truth, but it was of no consequence.
He nodded. “I am sorry. You have had several injuries this semester. It has been unfair for you to have to bear so much responsibility.” He shadow of something I didn’t understand flickered over his face. It looked like guilt, a huge weight of guilt. And suddenly, I understood.
“Sir,” I spoke hesitatingly. It felt somehow inappropriate to acknowledge what I had seen, to call attention to it, and yet I couldn’t escape the feeling that I had to assuage what I thought had caused it. “I have heard – from a couple of sources – that those things which attacked in October came from the dungeons, from experiments that were being done, necromancy, the dark arts.” He was looking at me, and now I couldn’t figure out his thoughts at all. I pressed on. “I know that you would never do anything you didn’t think was for the best of the school, for the safety of the students. I have always believed in you, sir. You are the greatest potions master I’ve ever known of, and my mentor, and I know you’d never do such a thing without good reasons.” There were tears in my eyes again. “Thank you, sir.”
Phineas Nigellus looked at me as if he’d never seen me before. And then, to my amazement, he smiled. “Thank you, Ms. Prince. It has been a honor to teach you. I’m sure you will do well.”
I smiled back. There was nothing else to say.
I woke up early yesterday, mailed my last two boxes, went to my favorite cafe for the last time. Did some shopping for the things people had asked for - and actually found some of them (I'll be looking for the rest tomorrow). Came home, messed around with my laundry. Made a round trip to my hotel - which took 5 hours - to drop off one of my two suitcases. Bopped out again to go to Akihabara one last time. Discovered that a really good gift for a friend would be available today, so I went back today. Ha. Did a lot of "lasts," especially in regards to my favorite foods and my favorite places. I wasn't sad, though, which surprised me. I'm saying "また明日", not "さよなら". It's the only way to explain I can think of: in Japanese, good bye is "see ya tomorrow," or "see ya!" If you say "sayonara," you mean good bye forever. It's kind of like the difference between "bye!" and "farewell" in English. And I don't feel like I'm saying farewell, which is keeping me from feeling too sad.
What was best about yesterday, though - and what I originally was going to write about until the mitigated passport disaster - was language. Because yesterday, and I think for the last week or so, Japanese just "clicked," and it's been WONDERFUL. Oh, I don't understand everything, not at all, but at least I now understand the things I should have been able to understand from the beginning. All along, I've been afraid to ask even simple questions because I never could understand the answers - I knew the words, but I couldn't catch them. Yesterday, I realized I was asking the questions, and I was understanding the answers. Or at least the explanations! So, for example, I asked the ticket lady: ヒルトンを知っていますか？ (do you know the Hilton Hotel?) and she exclaimed that I must be looking for the bus - which I was - and then explained where it was. I didn't understand a word, so she tried again: 東口、住友ビルの前に. And I understood! Oh, the East exit by the Sumitomo building, I echo her in Japanese, and she nodded cheerfully, and I found the fricken bus stop. I couldn't have done that a month ago, I'd not have followed what she said no matter how hard I tried. And that wasn't the only time, it happened like 4 times at different places and on different topics - including an entire conversation with a man at Sensoji. It's continued today, too. I'm SO happy, though it seems like a kick in the teeth that this happens just before I leave. Still, I have grand plans - and not terribly time consuming grand plans - to try not to lose what I've gained, which involves doing the things I've been doing here: watching unsubtitled TV and reading manga. :)
Anyway, today has gone pretty well as well. I woke up far to early, cleaned my apartment til it shone in preparation for my move out inspection tomorrow morning, and then headed out. My apartment cleaning went faster than I had feared, and this was wonderful, since it meant I had time to go to Tsukiji. It's only the fourth time I've been, and I really wanted to again, because I've never had such good Tuna sushi any where else. 14 pieces of the best sushi I've ever eaten, and because I went at lunch it cost me 13 dollars. Most of it was tuna, though I also had a little salmon and 2 tamago ones, which I used to think were a silly waste of time but which I've come to rather like. It was heaven.
Then, I went back to my apartment, gathered up my computer and my other suitcase, and came to check in to my hotel. On the train - which is an hour+ ride to Narita - I met three very nice people, a man, his girlfriend, and his son, who were from Australia (the boy was SO cute...only 17 though, sigh...) and had a very friendly chat about stuff with them. Got to the hotel, got my room, discovered I'd blistered my hand pulling the damn suitcase, stuffed my face at a very good, rather expensive buffet, and contemplated something that the Australian's had mentioned. Which is why when I finish typing this, I'm going to repack my bags and throw away a bunch of my clothing. Easy come, easy go; it all came from Goodwill anyway, and I'm sick of these bags killing me; they'll be heavy enough even if I do this. And I'll have fun replacing stuff.
Anyway, the internet costs by the minute, so I should stop. Tomorrow will be my last day in Tokyo, starting with a very early rising to get to my move out inspection in time. Oh, and I'm probably not going to write tonight, so no Hogwarts. I just really don't feel like it.
So I believe I mentioned that I was quite unhappy with how things had gone the last couple entries. In that spirit, today, after I finished the afore mentioned repacking project, I decided to delete the last two days worth of entries and start over from right after the Headmaster's speech. I'm MUCH happier with it this time, so I won't be reverting. :)
Nobody moved, not a sound was heard. The Headmaster was dead. Hogwarts was about to be attacked. Palucid Nox was revealed the villain, not that any one had ever really believed him to be anything but. Action had to come from somewhere, but there didn’t seem a ready source; the Headmaster sat down in his seat at the staff table, but the other teachers all watched him, riveted, and didn’t stir. It was like hypnosis, and we all suffered from it, capitaved, stunned, horrified.
Professor Lindelthwaite, on the other hand, seemed to be just about the only person in the hall utterly unaffected. I wondered if she’d even heard what he’d said. No, I thought, that was unfair; the stooped little divination teacher was going to die tonight. My eyes filled with tears which weren’t deterred by the utter absurdity of the little teacher humming cheerfully as she headed towards the doors. “Well,” she twittered, “I’m going to set up the portal in the southwest tower. It will take me, oh, about 3 hours I expect, be ready to go then, dreadful things will happen if some of you can’t make it through, and I don’t expect I’m strong enough to hold it open for more than, say, about 5 minutes.” She paused thoughtfully before stating the number as if chatting over tea. A tear slipped down my cheek. “Well, no use putting it off!” And she walked out of the room.
As if it was a cue, the shuddering bangs of the Great Hall doors closing behind her seemed to break the spell that had kept us all so still. Professor Lestrange stood up, smoothed her robes, and spoke with utter confidence. “Prefects, which of you intend to stay?” Marcus and I stood up, neither checking with the other, neither hesitating. Both of the Gryffindor Prefects rose as well, and one of the Slyherin’s. That left only three. Professor Lestrange nodded. “Very well. Stein, Rubins, Ullery,” she called off the three prefects who had not risen, “please get the students who do not wish to stay organized. She eyed the Gryffindor table as if disgusted, and then pointed, apparently at random. “You,” the student in question, who I didn’t know, looked astonished. “You are now a prefect. You will get your house in order with the rest. Everyone will meet at the Southwest Tower in one hour. If you run in to any difficulties, deal with them or forget about them, because there is no time.”
As soon as she finished, and the bustle began, Professor Tremens’ and Professor Patronius took up positions on either end of the staff table, and a few students pushed towards them through the throng of those heading towards the exit. It seemed a pitifully small number, heading towards one or the other, towards the sky defense force or the anti-Werewolf army, and I felt numb, utterly numb. How ever could we succeed? The attack, in two hours, and the defense need hold for another hour after that so that Professor Lindelthwaite could complete her gateway, and even if every of-age student in the school volunteered, we’d still not have an army of more than 40. As it was, I thought it looked more like half that number. The others were choosing to flee; with the odds that we faced, who could blame them? And the Headmaster was dead! Tears flowed down my cheeks.
Without saying a word, Marcus took my hand. For long moments, neither of us moved from where we had risen at Lestrange’s words. Finally, he spoke softly. “You could still go. I wish you would.”
I turned to him and smiled, tear tracks down my cheeks. “Hogwarts is my home; I won’t let the Headmasters’ killers defile it. And I’m Head Girl. Those students are my – are our – responsibility. We can’t let anything happen to them. And you’re being terribly unfair – I haven’t tried to ask you to leave, for all that I wish with all my heart to know that you are not in danger.”
He sighed. “I suppose that’s true. If you will forgive me, I will not ask again.”
“And if I won’t forgive you?”
“I still won’t ask again.” We smiled dopily at each other, and I laughed. “Where do you think to defend?” He asked when the moment had passed.
“Certainly against the army,” I replied without hesitation. “I’m a complete buffoon with spells, and I’ve no potions that will be of any use against a zeppelin. I fear I never saw much purpose in exploding potions; generally, if they exploded, it meant I’d done something wrong.” I tried to smile about it, but now talk of the battle was too sobering, and I fear I must have looked rather dreadful, for his face clouded with concern.
“I feared you would say that,” he sounded worried, as well. “Given my own abilities, and the weapon which you so obligingly gave me, and that I have experience in that department, I thought I’d take to the skies.”
“I thought you might.”
“Say the word,” he took my hand, and looked in my eyes with honest intensity, “and I will stay by your side.”
“No,” I shook my head. More tears fell. “It makes more sense for you to tackle the zeppelins, and me the werewolves. That’s where we each can do the most good.” He hung his head, and I took my hand from his and went over to Professor Patronius. He had assembled a small group of students; three 5th years I didn’t know, along with Caius Serence, the huge Deletrious Grindlewald, Celestine and, I was surprised to see, Lycia. No one else seemed to be moving his way.
“Glad to have you onboard, Ms. Prince,” he said by with of greeting.
“Is this all of us?” I asked. I felt a little faint. Nine of us versus an army of werewolves! We were all going to die, I thought gloomily, before quashing such fancies. They could do no good, and much harm. We would apparate from harm. We would hold for one hour, and then we would flee. I couldn’t imagine how we’d hold for a minute.
“Looks that way,” the Professor made an attempt at good heartedness, but it failed and instead he just sounded determined. “We’ll give it a few more minutes, then we’ll start our plan.”
I nodded and went to stand with the others. I was about to greet Lycia and Celestine when I noticed that amidst all the activity in the hall, one figure hadn’t moved. The Headmaster still sat at his seat at the staff table, his hands folded before him. His eyes were a million miles away; I wondered what he saw. “I’ll be right back,” I smiled weakly at my friends, and they nodded without a hint of a return smile, and I walked over to Headmaster Nigellus.
“Are…” I swallowed. What an absurd question! And yet… “Are you alright sir? As alright as you could be? Do you need any help?”
“What?” he started. His eyes looked slightly filmed over, in the way of one recently dead. “Oh, Ms. Prince. No, I’m quite alright. I’m simply considering the defense of the castle. Most of the defenses are within the walls, not without, so they will be what holds if the students outside are forced to flee.” I felt vaguely comforted that he did not suggest we would die, only that we would be driven from our posts. “Are you staying, Ms. Prince?” I heard the hints of that concern for my welfare that he had shockingly demonstrated at Christmas.
“I am, sir.”
“Are you quite sure you are alright to do so? Professor Tremens’ mentioned to me that you’d had an injury at the Greenhouse?”
I marveled at the teachers’ ability to share information with each other despite the utter lack of any time when such knowledge could have been communicated. “I’m quite well,” I replied, trying to sound hearty. I didn’t feel well, in truth, but it was of no consequence.
He nodded. “I am sorry. You have had several injuries this semester. It has been unfair for you to have to bear so much responsibility.” He shadow of something I didn’t understand flickered over his face. It looked like guilt, a huge weight of guilt. And suddenly, I understood.
“Sir,” I spoke hesitatingly. It felt somehow inappropriate to acknowledge what I had seen, to call attention to it, and yet I couldn’t escape the feeling that I had to assuage what I thought had caused it. “I have heard – from a couple of sources – that those things which attacked in October came from the dungeons, from experiments that were being done, necromancy, the dark arts.” He was looking at me, and now I couldn’t figure out his thoughts at all. I pressed on. “I know that you would never do anything you didn’t think was for the best of the school, for the safety of the students. I have always believed in you, sir. You are the greatest potions master I’ve ever known of, and my mentor, and I know you’d never do such a thing without good reasons.” There were tears in my eyes again. “Thank you, sir.”
Phineas Nigellus looked at me as if he’d never seen me before. And then, to my amazement, he smiled. “Thank you, Ms. Prince. It has been a honor to teach you. I’m sure you will do well.”
I smiled back. There was nothing else to say.
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(I heard that definition of sayounara before myself, but I've discovered that it's not quite accurate, as the teachers at my school say "sayounara" to me as I leave every day. Basically, as I understand it, sayounara implies that the next time you meet you will have "turned a page in your life." So, if you think you're turning pages every day, you can say sayounara every day, but most people don't see their lives that way. Anyway, there's some trivia for when you come back to Japan. ^_~
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じゃあ、ね！