Glory glory, hallelujah

Dear Osaka,

I don’t like you. I’m quite vocal about that, actually. It seems every time I visit you I get lost within a 3-minute radius of where I need to be and am 40 minutes late to a doctor’s appointment, or I buy the wrong $150 train ticket and can’t get it refunded, or end up in a puddle of tears for one of various reasons.

But not today. I managed to catch the only train from here that would get me to you in time for a fingerprinting appointment at the US Consulate; I input the address in my phone’s GPS (freakin’ lifesaver WHEN it’s right), and it told me the wrong way to go and I got on the wrong train; I figured it out in time to only be 8 minutes late to my appointment; and they still let me in. And I did the fingerprints. And I met the Consul and got his business card in case I have questions about Central Asia (where his previous and upcoming posts were/are) or the Foreign Service.

Today, when I needed you most, you didn’t fail me. I appreciate it, Osaka. Maybe I won’t badmouth you so much now.

Of course, when I tried to find the post office after that I was sent three different directions and finally gave up. But I’ll send the stuff tomorrow, so don’t sweat it. You still lead me to find the vegetarian Indian place I’d forgotten the location of, and helped me not miss the train back (barely).

Kudos, Osaka. I don’t hate you quite as much anymore. And that’s quite a feat.



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