oh, the shame

well, i can't believe it, but in a little over a week i'm going back to the land of the rising sun - except this time, i'm going to attend college in tokyo for a semester instead of high school in kobe for an academic year.

i'm fucking terrified. i don't know why, exactly. but if i had to guess, i'd say it's because last time, my host family kicked me out two weeks before i was scheduled to switch host families anyway - and to make matters worse, my teacher (who was the one who broke the news to me, not my host family) wouldn't tell me why, wouldn't tell me what i had done. i felt so shitty that i'd lie in bed at night and look out the window and wish i were dead.

but that's just a guess.

to boost my self-confidence, i've been telling myself that it'll be totally different this time around. and it probably will be. to be honest, i don't see how it couldn't be. first of all, i have 3 more years of life experience under my belt. i've done extensive reading on the subject of homestays in japan. my japanese language ability has improved significantly.

and i have a purse. last time, i didn't end up buying a purse because i didn't trust myself to pick out one that was fashionable enough by kobe standards. it never would've occurred to me in a million years that ANY PURSE IS MORE FASHIONABLE THAN A PLASTIC BAG.

in kobe, women wouldn't be caught dead in a pair of baggy sweatpants with "SEXY" emblazoned across the ass in hot pink lettering and hot pink crocs to match, their hair swept up into a messy up-do. no, in kobe, women take pride in the way they look, and strut down the street in stilettos with designer handbags on their arms. and here i am in a fucking megaman t-shirt i got for free from a friend who worked at gamestop, my shoulder-length hair parted down the middle just like every other forgettable girl i went to high school with, MY WALLET AND MY TRAIN PASSES AND MY ELECTRONIC DICTIONARY IN A RATTY PLASTIC BAG THAT I REUSED DAILY. i know god doesn't exist, because if he did, he would've struck me down on the spot for the inexcusable sin of looking like a bag lady in a city as posh as kobe.