For some reason I really want to play Halo 3 ODST.

So last weekend was my 3rd weekend in Japan, and it continued the statistically insignificant and not at all unexpected increase in awesomeness that occurred between the "omg-fuck-japan-i-want-to-go-home" first weekend in Japan, and the "yahhhhhh-SUMO" second weekend. This weekend will henceforth be known as "Nomihodai Karaoke".

This weekend started pretty well. I slept in, spent a few hours here at Tully's skyping my Boston-buds, and got to see my cat on skype. He looked pretty happy, when Syed wasn't yodelling him. Then I headed over to Atsugi city where my NTT-homies live. They've got "apartments" that are pretty much my dorm room plus a bathroom designed for a contortionist and a single-burner + sink kitchen area. In other words, its about a billion times better than my dorm. Fuck you guys.

So I cooked food for everyone. My Pasta Carbonara conjuring abilities are now known in the land of the rising sun. Even without pancetta or even real bacon I managed to impress. Sure, I didn't have a strainer and my sous-chef and I managed to both spill some pasta in the sink (who cares, its going back into boiling water. what could happen?), but I'd say it was pretty successful. After some awesome Japonois pastries provided by Thom, the good stuff happened.

I'm sure you've all heard of Karaoke. I'm sure you've all done it, and theres really not a whole lot to say about it. We sang some of the most embarrassing songs in existence (including favourite bands like Aqua, N'Sync, and more). I learned a few things about myself: One; that my peculiar vocal range allows me to sing the uber-low man's part in "Doctor Jones" as well as the ridiculously high girls part. But nothing in between. I've got to close that falsetto gap. Two; I know way too many emo songs by heart. I blame you Simon. Not that you're reading this. Everyone go check out simonallthetime.blogspot.com, it contains all of Simon's happy thoughts.

Anyway: Nomihodai. This is the Japanese word for "All you can drink". You pay 30 bucks each for the night (10pm to 5am) which pays for your private Karaoke room plus everything you can drink. This karaoke room has a phone in it, you pick up the phone, say the drink you want with a Japanese accent ("buraku rushiano", "sutaraburi dacuri"), the number you want (you'd better know the chinese number system for "vessels which contain liquids", note its chinese counting system + pai/bai/hai depending on the number) and "o kudasai". And BAM 2 seconds later the drink is in your hands, transported by a mysterious ninja-like man. There were 6 of us. We drank a LOT. Well technically there were closer to 5 of us. One unfortunate Japan-rookie much like myself drank himself sick in less than an hour. He spent the next 5 in the bathroom. Someone doesn't have very good nomihodai skills.

The rest of us were pooched by about 4am, we dragged Craig from his happy home in the karaoke bathroom and headed home. Nota bene guys, a nice thing about sleeping on the floor every night. Sleeping on someone elses floor is just as comfortable. Wait, is this a nice thing? I'm not sure, it could go both ways. Well we slept in, and made a genuine western breakfast in the morning. Pancakes and french toast, with real Canadian maple syrup.