True stories of the unemployed (and of future dead people).

One thing that I do love about being in Japan now, which will probably be surprising, is that in some greater-scheme-of-things way, I am actually saving money. For a long, long time, I have heard about how incredibly expensive it is to live in Japan, yet somehow things are really working out in my favor despite that ostensible fact.
The biggest reason for this is the currency conversion rate right now, which is totally and completely in my favor. It works out so that about 100 bucks here costs me 80 bucks in American dollars, and leads to a sort of amazing mentality where everything seems to be on sale. Even better, sometimes I use my magical american-dollar-having powers to buy things that are already on sale anyway! Thus, I get to have the magic feeling of buying something for 1000 yen that's marked down to 500, with the knowledge that that 500 yen is actually costing me only $4. So sweet, this feeling is.
Also I am no longer living in a goddamned ant-infested grad student craphole (though I suppose this place is nothing special), and the advantage of that is that my rent has been cut nearly in half. So completely worth sharing a shower room with 7 other people for that, I kid you not. If only the wireless signal would boost enough that I wasn't constantly running on a Very Low connection, I would be so self-satisfied right now I'd be whistling.

Also some things not related to me saving money happened, such as me being led to the local city library and checking out many fantastic books, and me spilling red wine on my carpet only to have it all magically come out hours later after I poured a bunch of club soda onto the stains. On my windowsill now there are two little fat avocados ripening, and I am drinking some tea and have a fat belly full of rice and veggies and tofu digesting. Good things, all.

It is a lovely change of mood, because while walking home from school today, I was nearly convinced that I might be dying. I had a strange headache and felt very dizzy, enough that I was worried about falling over. It took me awhile to figure out that I probably hadn't taken my meds in the last two days (I have been constantly running late for class) and that was the likely culprit of my sickness. So, to pass the time as I wobbled home, I thought of a few things I would like to happen if I were to die in Japan, or young, or really ever.

#1 Someone should tell my mom I am sorry I died on her, and also that she should be nicer and listen to my sisters more often hereafter.
#2 I'd rather my advisor was contacted first, before my mom & family, so someone with a nice voice who knew me could break the news to them instead of some official person.
#3 There can be a funeral, but no burying me in a cemetery. Also, no letting my mom pick out my last outfit without advice from someone who knows how I like to dress. For instance, the black jersey dress I have now and the blue-purpley short-sleeved sweater thing would work fine. Also, don't let whoever does my embalming and shit make me look like a clown.
#4 After the funeral, I'd like to be cremated, except I don't know where I'd want the ashes dumped. I am probably going to spend the next few days deciding this.
#5 Someone has to immediately delete all my internet profiles. I'll be damned if my shitty-ass myspace profile survives me in death.
#6 Friends and family can have whatever of my shit they want. Please don't throw away any books or music; giving it away to a library or something is cool if no one wants it. But I'd kind of rather the clothes were burned than end up at Goodwill.


...Is this particularly morbid? Or pretentious? After all, I'm probably not going to die for awhile, and I don't have that much good shit that I can imagine people wanting to take overall. I just don't like to think of someone wearing dead me's favorite hoodie. Or having some lame-o priest from my family's church saying things about the 'afterlife'. Or my mom and stepdad sticking some crystal whatevers into my coffin before they haul me off to get stuck in the ground where all the other dead people get stuck in the ground. At least let me be stuck somewhere pretty.