The Before

In the week before JET-MIP started, my parents came up with the idea that we should take a trip up the Eastern US and end up in Maine for a wedding. And so on June 28th, we left town and headed North. My very own East Coast Odyssey...

Here I am the morning we left. Sleep deprived and glamorous. 

First, we went here.

You probably can't tell, but this is Canton, Ohio. Also known as where I resided from ages 7-9. If I'm not mistaken (and I could be), I hadn't actually been back to the city of Canton since the day we left. The last picture was of the sign for a mall we used to shop at. We ate dinner at a restaurant right next to it. We met a friend we hadn't seen in 8 or 9 years.Walking around was kind of nostalgic in a hard to describe way, cause suddenly I was that little girl with a long braid and light up sneakers again. 

Our brief tour of Northeastern Ohio concluded the next morning with breakfast with my Aunt Me, who my dad says is "half crazy" (Don't worry Aunt Me, I still love you!). But that's probably why she's so much fun. We ran back down to Ravenna (one of the many towns in Northeastern Ohio my people hail from) and saw my dad's high school principle and his wife. There's some of the sweetest old folks I've ever met. 

And then, we went here. 

 This is Lake Chautauqua. Or in the words of Aunt Me "a little slice of heaven!"  It was pretty spectacular. Those delightful senior citizens you're looking at are Uncle Chuck and Aunt Rosie. It's their lake-house. They rock, particularly because Uncle Chuck took me out on a jet-ski. 

After that, we went here.

Thanks for the photos, Mother!

This is Rangeley, Maine, as you might have inferred from the sign. It has a population of about 1000. It rained basically the whole time we were there. We had to switch cabins after the first night because the rental agency said we had wifi when they actually meant "Sometimes you can hook off the neighbors!" But then they moved us to a bigger cabin, with wifi. And I got my own room, which was a step up from the futon I slept on in the first cabin. That was nice. Mom never got to accomplish her mission to see a moose. That sucked. 

Finally, we went here. 

Thanks again for the photos I'm stealing, Mother!

This is Naples, Maine. We went to a wedding. I met quite possibly the cutest dog ever. His name is Mr. Moby Man. He weighs three pounds and wears a tux. He should be king of the world. 

Also, the wedding itself was awesome. Mom got to see one of her best college buddies after 30 years. There were chickens walking around observing everything. That was pretty cool. And we cheered and we clapped and we danced in the driveway. 

Do you Believe in Magic?

"How the he** are you going to Japan?" That's what's typically asked of me when I tell people I'm going. (Actually, more often when my mother tells people I'm going. I would of been fine telling about three people about the trip and then hopping on the plane. But that's a different story..) So, this is how.
I was chosen through the JET-MIP (Japan Exchange and Teaching-Memorial Invitation Program) for this trip. The short of it all is that the Memorial Invitation Program was set up in memory of two American assistant English teachers who were killed in the earthquake and tsunami of March 11th, 2011 that struck the Tohoku region of Japan. They were lively, amazing, VERY YOUNG people who did not deserve to die. But they did and life goes on. And this program is one of the ways life was able to go on.
The long of it all can be read right here- http://www.jflalc.org/jle-jet-mip.html
"How were you selected?" That's the next question I get. Since I don't really want to have to explain it to anyone else- here's how. First, I wrote an essay. Actually, first I had to be convinced to apply. "Cmon, would one of you please apply? Just to say you did? Please?" That's something along the lines of what my Japanese teacher said while trying to convince my class to apply for the program. After four other solid "No!"s, (Excuses ranged from "I"m already going to Japan!" to "I'll be in boot camp!") I begrudgingly held out my hand and said "Fine. I"ll do it." The very definition of on a whim.
Anyway, back to the essay. For the first stage of the application process, we had to write an essay on two topics, "How will you use Japanese in your future studies and career?" and "How can the region of Tohoku rebuild its tourism economy?" (Or something like that, I don't honestly remember the exact wording and it's one in the morning, so I don't care to look it up.) I am a somewhat decentish writer. It's one of my few strengths. With ungodly amounts of help from my English major Japanese Teacher, I got the essay written in the week until the deadline fairly easily.
Never the less, I was still pretty floored when I got the email that I made first cut, because I may be a somewhat decentish writer, but there are hundreds of other REALLY AWESOME teenage writers who also happen to be Japanese language students. I told my mother, "You have nothing to worry about. There's no way I'll make second cut." I may have been wrong about that part...
The reason I knew I wouldn't make second cut was because second cut involved an interview over Skype in both English and Japanese. And if you know me, you know I am horridly socially screwy and blunt and rude and don't know the meaning of making a good impression.. Also, my Japanese oral skills suck. That and my slightly strange twang of a Southern accent make me sound like a five year old on some kind of God only knows what street drug when I speak Japanese.
So, Gade Sensei (my Japanese teacher) and I prepped nonstop during the week I had in-between finding out I made first cut and the interview. I thought I might be kind of just possibly ready. Yeah, just like I was ready to drive a car. (Ask any member of my family if you don't get that joke.)
 Interview day came around and the interview was a rolling wreck on freaking wheels. The computer's  connection went out about twenty times because our school's wifi sucks and I ended up having to finish the interview on Gade Sensei's phone. Since cell reception sucks quite possibly worse than the wifi in our village, I blabbered something akin to random strings of words in Japanese and didn't understand a damn thing they said. I was done. I was sure.
On second cut day, I spent half of it checking my email waiting for the rejection letter just so I could tell everyone to stop mentioning it cause it wasn't happening. Around eight-thirty I went into my email for one of the last times and there was this message saying they were pleased to inform me that I had been selected... And holy crap it wasn't a rejection letter!
I ran downstairs. My mother and my unbiological might as well be aunt were sitting on the couch. I looked at my mom. "Uh, Mama..." I stuttered off. 
"You're going to Japan!"
Okay, not quite magic. But close enough.