Fresh Fish

I went to dinner with some coworkers last night. We ordered a plate of sashimi and on the plate was a fish that had seconds before been alive and well, but who now sat on our plate skinned and carved up into sashimi. We were told not to put our finger in the fish's mouth, because it was still "alive". Low and behold the fish kept opening and closing his mouth, and would even constrict its head and tail if we touched it. Talk about fresh fish!

There's something awkward about looking at a fish who seems alive, and who's being used as a platter on which is served carefully slices of his own meat. I think to myself that I'm sure glad that's not me. But he was delicious.

An Ode to Rachel

Before coming home to LA, we had Shelley's youngest sister Rachel out for a month-long visit. She just graduated from high school and sacrificed some of her last summer at home with friends to be with us. To say we were ecstatic to have her here for a month is an understatement.

Anthon of course glommed onto Rachel, claiming her as his and referring to her as, "my Rachel". He'd say, "I need my Rachel" and "Where is my Rachel?"

As you can see from the pictures below and in the corresponding gallery of Rachel-centric pictures, we kept busy while she was here. We tested her food limits - she even tried sushi - and took her all around the Tokyo area. She got up close and personal with the local women, though we couldn't quite get her to buy a cosplay outfit (like the one below) to wear on the plane home. And, like Shelley, fell for the wiley charms and sugary lips of the Buddah.

Thanks for coming all the way out to see us, Rachel. Good luck at the Y.