On New Year’s Eve, we watched Kohaku, the annual “live” music competition on TV. (I use quotation marks because some of those groups were obviously not singing live, but I suppose they could have been throwing their voices ventriloquist style.) There is a white team, for male artists, and a red team, for female artists, though there is some weird give and take to account for the ever prevalent new-half transgender talent and just to shake things up a bit.
Luckily, my kids haven’t realized it’s girls against boys yet or there would have been a war of the sexes right in my living room. They were both on the white team for Sports Day this year, so they were cheering for the white team.
I didn’t know half of the performers, perhaps because I spent the latter half of 2014 switching between the 19th century with a series of books about Robert E Lee and his family and the 18th century with the Outlander series. Notes to self: next time you decide to start a civil war sign up Robert E Lee’s wife for a general. If you are ever in need of medical care and must go see Claire, bring earplugs so you don’t have to listen to how advanced society was in the 1940s.
At some point the children went to bed, and I spent the rest of the evening Facebooking snarky comments about Kohaku.
It was great. :)
New Year’s Day. HRH went jogging as soon as he got up. All good for him, but we were supposed to be at his parents at 8 and woke up at 7. Which was a bit of a lie-in. Anyway, I had to do the laundry and the kid-readying and lots of crap before we left. Meanwhile, he came home and took a shower, thus occupying our one bathroom when three other people needed to get in it. At 8:05 his parents called, wondering where we were, and he told them I wasn’t ready yet.
We had the normal nasty osechi for breakfast, then settled into a day of not doing anything. It snowed, which made it kind of worse because it was cold and wet outside but not sticking.
POS BIL has been shooting his mouth off for days and days now. He vacillates between being quite gentle and friendly with the kids, to teasing them in a mean way and making mean comments. He also seems to be the only person on earth who is immune to my death stare. So, yeah. That’s problematic.
HRH has been itching and itching to go somewhere for days now; the man cannot stay at home, but it is crowded everywhere (as you would expect when an entire populous nation takes the same five days off.) Plus there is this whole issue with Me Too having a phobia of the New Year’s dancing dragon things, which are quite literally in every shopping center and public space this time of year. We barely made it home a few weeks ago when we came across at least a hundred of them practicing in an open area in front of the station.
Today, I finally relented and we went to the shrine. Or actually it’s a Buddhist temple thing right next to a shrine, cover all your bases in one convenient space- type of place. The kids bought their fortunes (sho-kichi, or little luck, for both of them,) and they came in these cute little wooden containers. People had placed these everywhere on the temple grounds, so we had a nice sort of hide-and-seek looking for them.
Tonight, it’s more listening to BIL shoot his mouth off.
Wish me luck, people.