Believe it or not, there are only 11 days left before I board a plane and head to Japan for a year. At this point, I'm less excited and more completely and utterly terrified of leaving everyone and everything I know behind. Last night I spotted some people walking down the street, scrunching through magnolia leaves on the sidewalk, and hearing the sound of the leaves under their shoes made me realize how much I am going to miss the familiar foliage of L.A.

I'm getting nostalgic for plants. I think you see the point I'm at right now.

I'll be living in the lovely city of Ogaki (famed for its abundant groundwater and connection to the poet Basho), teaching tenth through twelfth graders at Ogaki Commercial High School. It sounds like a great situation, as far as JET placements go: I'm close to a big city, I won't need a car, the English teachers at my school actually speak English and I'm getting a big apartment for about $60/month. (Yes, that's sixty dollars. The apartment is subsidized by the government.) Still, I'm terrified. Occasionally excited, but mostly terrified.

And then there's the matter of leaving my boyfriend, Captain Tenderheart. Yesterday we went to Neptune's Net, a little fish shack in Malibu, for my belated birthday celebration. (Our first attempt was thwarted by his attack of the stomach flu two weeks ago. He made it as far as Zuma Beach, where he lay uncomfortably on the blanket in the sun, jacket buttoned up, shoes on, looking like a miserable little potato baking in the sun, before we had to turn back.) We ate the best fried fish and shrimp with yummy, extra-horseradish-y cocktail sauce, then went to Leo Carrillo Beach, my favorite beach from childhood because it has the coolest tidepools. Captain Tenderheart held a hermit crab for the first time, then dropped it when he was suddenly and inexplicably creeped out. (The crab survived unscathed). It was foggy. There was no traffic on the PCH. I was wearing my new pink coat. A perfect, lovely day.

I don't want to leave.

(But I do. But I don't)