Sometimes I feel like my cup is overflowing, like I'm learning so many new things it's hard to remember the things I already know, and there's still so much left to learn that I couldn't possibly hold it all. The Japanese language has felt like this since the beginning, and now I have naginata.

For three hours a day, we stretch, do quiet walking, practice the choreographed moves, put on the armor, spar. I have to admit I find it hard to practice two days in a row. What's the point? I think when I wake up. It's going to be just the same as yesterday. This thought crosses my mind sometimes before one of my twice-weekly language lessons, too. But most of the time it is somehow different, somehow I have gotten better since yesterday and I feel good. And sometimes I remember how much there is left to learn, how I am at the very bottom of the learning pile and then I want to snap my naginata in half, throw my Japanese dictionary in the trash, say "Sumimasen! I don't know who I was kidding!"

Instead I note the small markers of improvement when I can. On the train, I listen to the announcements and remember when it was all a Peanuts-like garble. I decipher the kanji of various teachers' names on the shoe lockers at school and feel a thrill. ("I totally know where Ueda-sensei's outdoor shoes are!") I hit a girl's armored shin with the naginata, yell, "Sune!" at the top of my lungs and know I'm happy to be doing it. Even if it takes me ten more years to actually do it right.

Note: I ate the blossom when I finished the sake. It was good, flowery and peppery, much better than Sakura Kit Kat. That flower-eating crone might be on to something....

Platinum Cats is part of of the Chocolat New York series, which has brought Japan such hits as Feel Safari, Feel Envy and Blonde Cats. Like Feel Safari, the chocolate paddles are neatly packaged in a faux wallet (silver basket-weave pattern), but unlike Feel Safari, the candy is actually good. I bought Platinum Cats for the flavor, Milk & Salt, described as, "Rich milk chocolate featuring a blend of caramel flavor and French salt." (Blonde Cats, because it was Bitter & Vanilla flavor and therefore had little potential for horror, just did not interest me.) The thin paddles of chocolate snap in half easily, but instead of crumbling unpleasantly in the mouth like Feel Safari, they are creamy with a full flavor, I think because of the salt. They are also very blue, but in a nice way, like Easter M&Ms.

The back of the box illustrates a piece of the candy snapping in half with a "pakin!" sound. The Japanese language has an overwhelming number of words to describe texture, many of them fun and onomatopoetic. Pocky candy, for example, is named after the Japanese term for something breaking with a snap: pokipoki. Other vivid words I like are baribari (crackle), fuwafuwa (fluffy) and pakupaku taberu (to munch -- taberu means to eat). When I hear fuwafuwa, I just feel like stuffing my mouth with cotton candy.

Thanks to Platinum Cats, I haven't completely written off this candy series, though after exploring the themes of envy, safari and blonde-haired cats in New York, I really don't know where the people of Fujiya can go from here.

A non-platinum cat I befriended at a shrine yesterday.

In the game of "Can You Eat Japanese Food?", umeboshi and natto are in the final leg of the gauntlet, the two Japanese tastes thought least likely to appeal to tongues raised on Campbell's Chicken Noodle and Quaker oatmeal. If you admit to enjoying either, you are immediately handed a crown, scepter and Miss-America-style ribbon emblazoned with the words "CAN EAT JAPANESE FOOD." If you admit to liking both, you are additionally given a set of bejeweled chopsticks.

I hate natto (fermented soybeans that smell like dirty socks and have the disturbing texture of mucus). But I love umeboshi (pickled plums-which-are-actually-apricots-but-everyone-calls-them-plums with a bracingly sour bite). So i decided to try some ume gummies, partly because the package is so cute and perfect for spring, and partly because I wanted to see just how far, exactly, I "CAN EAT JAPANESE FOOD."

I'm pleased to report my ribbon is intact. These candies have a refreshing herbal taste, neither too sour nor too sweet. I didn't think they tasted at all like umeboshi at first; the only thing I thought of was yukari, the mixture of salt and dried red shiso leaves sometimes sprinkled on rice. I was convinced I had discovered some kind of hoax perpetrated by the Lotte candy company on the unsuspecting gummy-eating public, until I remembered umeboshi are made using red shiso leaves, which are what turn the fruits pink. So much for my undercover food detective work.

I also learned a new texture word: buruburu, quivering. The fact that the idea of quivering food appeals to me should qualify me for those bejeweled chopsticks despite my multiple failures in the natto corner, don't you think?

A response to the question, "What is something special about you?" from one female student: "My body is soft."

In a report about her family which will be sent to the host student in Australia she will be staying with this summer, another student noted the name, birthday and hobbies of each of her family members. For her two cats, she wrote, "Birthdate: unknown. I found them."

Creepy Kid, no longer a student of mine, has unfortunately developed a renewed interest in the English Club, which means I still have to see him several times a week. He always has to leave the meetings early, and feels the need to explain this to me every time before he leaves. Because his English is horrendous, it always takes a good five to ten minutes for him to make this explanation, an extremely loooong five to ten minutes inevitably punctuated with him covering his face with his hands a lot and whispering to himself in Japanese what he is trying to say in English. From what I can gather, he has to meet with someone about his "horse." Yeah, I don't that's right either.

The new English teacher at my school, a sweet woman in her 50s, pronounced herself "enchanted" by my English and invited me to a sushi party she and her friends are having. I agreed to go. How could I say no to a bunch of older Japanese ladies, self-professed gurume (gourmet) women who love to eat, who are hiring a professional sushi chef to prepare lunch for them in nearby Tarui, which also happens to be home to Guruman Bakery, the best bakery for miles around?

I bought Ayamurasaki because it was so murasaki -- purple. A shockingly purple dessert in Japan nearly always involves some form of satsumaimo, Japanese yam, and this candy is indeed a mixture of yam and white chocolate. I never really considered potato-type vegetables as good dessert eatin' before, but as with my torrid relationship with sweet beans, much has changed since I got here. Although my favorite way to eat satsumaimo is steamed plain, preferably by a craggy old man operating a pushcart outside a tourist attraction somewhere, I also find them irresistible in little pies and pastries. I think what I like best is also what I like about azuki beans: the texture, which is smooth yet substantial, and somehow meaty.

Ayamurasaki doesn't satisfy this craving, but the satsumaimo flavor is unmistakable. It's creamy and slightly yammy and very sweet, so sweet it is impossible for me to eat more than one at a time. But the box is pretty. And it's purple. It would probably make a nice gift for that person in your life who loves purple -- you know who I mean. She is most likely either under the age of 6 or over the age of 50. If the latter, she's always sporting a new purple accessory or zipping around town in her purple car with the personalized license plate that says "LDYPRPL."* She'd probably appreciate the elegance of the packaging, since purple processed foods are almost always directed toward her younger compatriot. Even the word, murasaki, sounds more refined than "purple," which somehow manages to sound similar to both "burp" and "pimple." Maybe she'll adopt murasaki as her own.

But I guess it's impossible to fit "LDYMURASKI" on a license plate and "LDYMRSK" just looks like "Lady Mrs. K," so that might not work after all.

*I really knew a woman who had this license plate. She used to come in once a week to the coffee bar where I worked. I never saw her dressed in anything but a purple sweatsuit.

Something special about you: I tend to fall in love in short time.
Future job: merry Anjali.
Something you would like to ask Anjali: A beautiful face and great hair.

While I'm pretty sick of the attention I'm getting from the new first-year boys (hearing "love Anjali!" is only funny the first couple times), I have to admit getting compliments about my "great heair" from the first-year girls put a spring in my step. Compliments from girls mean so much more. Especially if they're about hair and most especially if they come at a time when I'm growing out my bangs.

...Ah, vanity.

I know I have been bad about posting lately. It's true that last week's Candy Friday was actually posted on Saturday. And this week hasn't seen a Candy Friday at all. But I can explain. I've been hard at work on my brand new food blog, you see, and haven't had time even for candy.

So take a look at Delicious Coma in all its shiny newness. I'll still be posting all non-food thoughts (as well as Candy Friday) here. But as 90% of my thoughts lately revolve around food, I suspect Delicious Coma might be getting more of the action for awhile. Just to let you know.