The Kanji Guys made it all worth it. They were so cute showing off new kanjis they had learned. They had wall after wall of offerings in multiple topic areas: it was an encyclopedia of ways people see themselves. Maybe not an encyclopedia , more a compendium. A person’s Kanji is like a personalized license plate. It has to fit just right.

Although speaking of that I was horrified when I heard the Boston Marathon bombers had one that said terrorist, “TRRRST” or what? I’d like to see how it was spelled.

So of course, I HAD to read them all, so I was in the Kangi place a while. I finally asked for one they didn’t have. I looked it up on my phone. That was six months ago and I can’t remember what it was. It was probably Reiki Master.

Or it could have been my little slogan, “Got Reiki?” I also like “Reiki be … Reiki do.”

With the Southern California sun in my eyes and the ocean breeze in my hair, who knows what I might have been thinking. As I recall I had just gotten my green card and I was blissed out on Venice Beach. Life was good. The Kanji was disappointing.

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