Who is This Insanely Talented Writer???

Remind me never to read someone's blog who is insanely more talented at writing than I am.

I tend to view writing as a way to communicate events, facts, or interesting stories to myself, for reflection, or to others, for sharing and maintaining connections. I like punctuation. I like grammar and the feel of a well-written sentence. I don't find much satisfaction in stream-of-consciousness writing. I mostly fail to comprehend the purpose of recording ephemeral emotions and confessing passing passions. It's easy to convince myself that writing of this kind is pointless self-indulgence. Then... I read someone's blog who knows how to do it right, and my logic instantly falls away.
Perhaps it is because of my isolation here that my blog has taken such a impersonal, almost formal tone. I just think I ought to relax it a little. Herein lies the problem: when am I ever relaxed in Japan?
I went to the hot springs again last night to relieve some tension from my tight shoulders after another long day in school. I sat in the classroom-sized, steaming hottub, while five Japanese ladies shot glances at me, casually chatting with one another. Not one said a word to me the entire time. Not one responded to my smile, my 'konbanwa'('good evening').
People tend to lean towards one extreme. Usually, it's the children who stare, until I wave to them and they realize I'm alive and human. They sometimes wave back, but mostly they just look away, their curious brains searching for the next oddity. The adults, in general, always notice me, but always ignore me. This leads to me feeling quite isolated nearly every time I go out by myself whether I'm at the grocery store, the mall, a restaurant, etc. I blame myself for this; I rather blindly entered a country without knowing the language and took up residence, actually requested residence, in the suburbs of a relatively unknown city on a relatively unknown island. I brought isolation upon myself, big time. However, I blame the Japanese too. Many of such people present themselves to be supremely sensitive to the needs of others, yet they push away my needs with a cold heart.
My solution to the present challenge is to continue to breathe and to recall the wonder of being alive. My solution is also to be proud that I am here, and that I am different. I am normal in many places, but I am not normal here in Japan. I happily sign autographs after every elementary school class. Amazingly enough, I can use chopsticks proficiently. I make sure that I eat very openly, so everyone can notice and pay me a compliment on my skills. I laugh wholeheartedly when, while giving my 52nd self-introduction class, the students, for the 52nd time, mock my pronunciation of the word 'Colorado' and giggle when I tell them the names of my family members, including Jason(the one with the hockey mask) and Rebecca(which sounds like the word 'silly' in Japanese). I am different, and because I'm American, that makes me special. Because I'm in Japan, that makes me an undeniable distraction.The other solution is to think of my job, selling English to Japanese kids, and of course, the kids themselves, who make life in school bareable and humorous.

Ah, forget the above reminder. We all need a little dose of inspiration from time to time, and we can all be insane in our own little way. ; )