It is 4:29 A.M., and I am staring at the color bars on the television screen. It is dark in the house. I may be only seven years old, but I already know how to toggle the mute button to keep my parents asleep down the hall.

The clock ticks to 4:30 in the kitchen. I clench the remote tightly in my stubby fist. I pause, rapt, in mid-breath as the screen flickers and the color bars disappear. Magic. I press mute "off."

"FIGHTING EVIL BY MOONLIGHT, WINNING LOOOOOVE BY DAYLIGHT! NEVER-- "

I quickly turn the volume down to a near-silent hush. I mourn having to do this, but no matter. I know the song by heart. I sing along quietly and scoot closer to the tantalizing candy-colored glow. Sailor Moon, my idol, dances in a sea of sparkles and high-pitched squeals. I love her huge glistening eyes, her glamorous nails and lipstick, her long, flowing pigtails.

My middle name means "moon," you know. Mahina, Serena. We were meant to be.



I didn't know at the time that Sailor Moon was anime. I didn't even know she wasn't an American cartoon. When my father, eventually commander of U.S. Army Reserves Japan, returned from joint exercises with Sailor Moon dolls packaged in boxes covered with strange, illegible characters, I still did not understand. To my kindergarten mind, it made perfect sense that a show in the U.S. would have toys being sold in Japan. I think I assumed that they watched the same programs over there as we do over here. For me, at least, it may have been partially true. Growing up in Hawaii I saw a lot of old programs straight from Japan that probably never aired on the mainland. My brother and I danced to the Kikaida and Kamen Rider theme songs, and fell asleep in the evening watching Abarenbo Shogun in our mother's lap.

I never really got into American cartoons. I couldn't handle Nickelodeon's booger jokes. Ren and Stimpy was just gross, and Scooby Doo was a second choice for a slow day. Sailor Moon was like a breath of fresh air with its underlying plot and developed characters. Despite the repetitive formula of individual episodes, I liked the feeling that the show was going somewhere. Plus, Sailor Scouts had super powers. All the other super heros on air were boys. Ew, cooties!



Like all young love, my infatuation with Sailor Moon eventually faded. I watched the first two seasons, but American networks took too long putting the next season on air. By the time Sailor Moon S was showing, I was in the midst of an affair with Digimon and Dragon Ball Z. Outlaw Star soon stole my heart on Toonami, and then I was banned from watching TV on weekdays.

Anime, as a term, didn't make it into my consciousness until 8th grade. I savor the day I found a friend reading a copy of InuYasha outside Home Ec and I couldn't decide if the title character was a boy or a girl. TV was banned, but the internet was easy access. There I found a wealth of media, and anime was the lowest, ripest fruit. IRC, Bittorrent...alt-tab. Of course I was doing homework. Really? The network connection was slow? I wonder why. It couldn't be the gigantic media file secretly downloading behind my half-typed English essay, could it?



I've been hooked on anime since kindergarten, even if I didn't know it. A real anime crack-baby. Sailor Moon, my first taste, will always be treasured in memory and the name of my teddy bear-- permanently branded "Lita" after Sailor Jupiter. Before I learned the term it was all I wanted to watch. At twenty, I show no signs of disenchantment. I'm looking forward to another eighty years of stolen moments with sparkly eyes and vivid, glowing colors.