kyoto is teeming with anthropologists, or it seems that way anyway when you're surrounded by them and in such culturally steeped environs. it was indescribably rejuvenating to play the art fag accessory to the anthropology of art post-doc at the willy ronis photography exhibit at the kyoto museum of contemporary art yesterday afternoon, but the conversation at dinner was even more enlightening. it would seem that no one paid enough forethought to my negotiable property holdings and that no effort of charm on my part could ever have won over someone so society minded as the subject of tuesday night's fancy. you see, i don't have any pigs. not one. and no amount of clever conversation can increase my value in the eyes of a certain set without it's ultimately being underwritten by livestock.
the girlfriend wanted chickens, and so i obliged. damn. i'm as bad as he is.
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