So here's my Friday evening. I come home, I check lj and email, I sit down and read ten pages of Kureishi and my daily chapter of 3K and another chapter in タブーの漢字学 (The Study of Taboo'd kanji) (which informs me that Robert van Gulik's name is of course pronounced Hulik as I should have known from the parallel of van Gogh, but I've always said it with a hard G. Katakana has its uses.) And then I do my 45 minutes of hanzi old and new, and then I yawn and have a bath and go to bed without, again, looking at my DVD of Shounen Onmyouji. It naturally puzzles me that there are people on this earth who have to deliberately seek out works by POC. Otakudom has its uses as well.
I then dream that my guarantor in Japan has arranged an introduction to a family that teaches [trad Japanese art] and I take the train to Kyoto with *my* family (abbreviated to teenaged younger sister, older brother and aunt, none of whom are themselves but my aunt because Aunt Helen was a generic aunt) and Kyoto is all green and colour-saturated gardens with very blue skies and the family house I'm going to for my interview is large and traditional and dark, looking out on the vista of brilliant green lawn and huge trees but my good black dress is a thigh high mini, which I hadn't realized when I packed it, and I don't know where to sit and I'm not sure of my Japanese and I know I'm not making a good impression on the assembled black-clad cousins and uncles. One of the relatives is a Chinese woman from Hong Kong who speaks fluent English, which helps; but my guarantor tells me, back in our plush carpeted hotel, that I habitually show too much on my face and so they can't take me as a student.
Can't think what the application of this is. But noteworthy that I'm a teenager in this dream, because normally I'm about 35. Your dreams don't age as you do, just FTR.