Last week a couple of my friends from Fukui came down for a visit. It's kind of odd to think that I've been in Tokyo long enough to be considered a suitable tour guide.

It'd been a while since I spent that much uninterrupted time with the same people. In fact, the last time was an excruciating weekend trip with my then-girlfriend, her roommate, and her roommate's boyfriend to attend one of their friend's weddings. The girls finished pissed because no one made even the slightest effort to catch the garter. I finished pissed because I realized that if I had caught that garter I'd be looking forward to countless more weekends talking to smug assholes about their new SUVs and really great little end tables they'd bought in Santa Barbara. The only one who wasn't fuming was the other boyfriend. He'd had the good sense to feign sleep during the drive back.

This time was much better though. I'm not sure if it was the trip to the Gyoza Stadium, the world's biggest fresh fish market, or the near constant drinking.

Hell, maybe it was even the company. James, Caz, thanks for coming.