subway snoozing

So I am absolutely convinced that while some Japanese have some sort of innate alarm clock that causes them to arise at their station...



...the rest of them snooze for several stations past their destination.

And then they're suddenly at the end of the line, drool coming out the side of their mouth, wondering where they are...

...and where they may have been drooling for the past 16 stations.

NOTE: Because a few of you have asked - the sleeping woman does not know the two she's taking a snooze on. They got on after me, and the sleeping woman was already out when I got on. The women being drooled on did not appear to be amused. :)

feelin' crunky

So yesterday I went downtown to meet Jess for lunch. However, in the elevator on the way down to meet me, Jess got invited to lunch by one of the firm's partners, and when the partner found out I was there, I was invited.

So there I was, tricked out in my tourist garb - capri jeans, a t-shirt, my messenger bag full of maps, granola bars, and water - going to the 502nd floor of some fancy building to eat lunch with the lawyers (awk-ward). It was actually a fabulous lunch, and the partner spoke excellent English. Thank goodness I can use chopsticks (pretty well). And thank goodness I already love Japanese food. I think he was surprised at what I was happy to put away.

Anyway, so after lunch, we bowed and thanked our sensei, and then he told the two of us to "now go on a date." :) So Jess and I walked over to Lawson's and picked up a few drinks as we were utterly parched (they usually serve tea with meals, and even when we ask for water, it never seems to arrive) and I needed (as usual) a chocolate treat.

So I chose a bag of Crunky. Why? Simple: (1) It's called Crunky, can it get any more Japanenglish? (2) It's description is simple and beautifully Japanese: "popjoy."

The good news is that I have added it to my Japanese treats and foods I am going to DIE without when I return to the States. (If you're wondering, it's like bite sized KitKats, but more chocolate.)

P.S. My Japanese kneewrap/strap seemed to work pretty well this morning. I made it a half hour before my knee requested that we walk home. So we did. And I couldn't be happier.

knee jerk reaction

Today's been a hard day for me. And I blame it on my knee.

You see, I've been running around the Imperial Palace, which is an incredibly beautiful run, and a good hard run at that with its ups and downs (plus, I'm getting this great tan). I love it.

So my Achilles seems to be faring fine, but now my old knee injury decided to flare up with a vengeance. And I didn't bring my kneestrap (I haven't had issues with my knee in over a year, so I decided I wouldn't need it). Now, I realize that my body is quite rundown from years of running, but I simply love it. It's mine. And until recently, I've always been able to do it wherever and whenever I want. It's such a great feeling to just hit the pavement - at home or in different parts of the world. It's a part of me and a part of home that I've always been able to count on.

So my knee started killing me after my run on Friday. And not being able to work out or find a gym that is in the vicinity and doesn't cost as much as a couple pair of Dr. Martens is nigh unto impossible. These Japanese don't need gyms - their tiny little figures are trimmed down over ages of walking everywhere (the women in tall, uncomfortable shoes no less).

So I had a breakdown. I just want a kneestrap folks. I think I just want the ease of knowing where to get it, how much it will be. I want to be able to hit the pavement. Instead, I'm just a foreigner in a strange land with a busted up knee. I suppose I just feel pretty isolated, isolated from my kneestrap and isolated from home.

However, after some searching today, I've got:

We'll give it a try.

flaming

Yes, I am standing next to Tokyo's famous golden turd.

Enough said.

Okay, it's supposed to be a beer glass with a "flame" coming out of it? Right...

bulky tourists

So today we went to one of Tokyo's premier tourist attractions: COSTCO.

Lest you think we had something akin to an American experience, let me assure you that this was not a walk down memory aisle. This Costco is six stories tall. And you ride a sloped moving sidewalk with your cart down each floor. (The carts lock at a specific angle so they don't slide.)

We were able to pick up some U.S. familiar foods, as well as some other goods. And it was a serious war. This is unlike any Costco I've ever been to - Japanese ninjas on every side warring for the best slab of meat, the most boxes of donuts (almost everyone had at least one box - in fact, some came just to buy a single box of donuts).

And our friend tells us that they love to come and watch the Americans shop because we buy so much. (Oh, what do you mean? Like our giant tub of Skippy? We really need that for the next four weeks? Um, yes.) They come for the oddities; we come for REAL FOOD IN HUGE PROPORTIONS.

So it with great pleasure that we can now cook our own (massive) dinners.

We also stopped at a regular grocery store for a few more goods, which I found much more enjoyable. Lots of Japanese products (I'm hoping that what I thought was shampoo really is, and that my hair doesn't turn blue or something), but less Japanese sparring. :)

The strange thing is, that for the first time, we were actually a bit homesick, homesick for the real Costco, the familiar. We miss you Costco.

And Diet 7Up.

And soft bed.

Special thanks to the Wests for taxiing us around and letting us fill their sweet van with our food.

faces

Today I visited an area of Tokyo called Ueno. This area is popular for its gardens, museums, ponds, and temples. It also features Japan's oldest zoo. However, I was sort of blown away by the area when I exited the subway station, and I pretty much neglected even looking for the zoo. (Plus, there are some things that are just more fun with the hubby.)

So you exit this massive subway station, which is filled with high end clothes and shoe stores (e.g., I saw a necklace I really wanted - it was approximately $150, and really not much to write home about), into what I would call Mexico-Tokyo.

So far I've seen one homeless person in Tokyo. I supposed that the town is just too pristine and proper to allow for it (there isn't even gum on the ground folks). But Ueno was a different story. Just outside the station, you turn down this long alley of sorts, stuffed with shops, vendors hawking their too expensive imitation purses, fish and meat for sale, and hundreds of people just crowding the shops. It appeared that the locals did some bartering (especially on the meat products), but the few tourists (and there were a few, which is a few more than I usually see when I'm out and about) didn't have that option with the language barrier.

I also wandered through parts of the gardens. They were pretty, and some statues and temples, but they were also filled with people who were literally making the park their home, some inebriated. I wasn't entirely comfortable, but still completely wowed by the difference. The Tokyo I've known so far is proper, polite, and beautiful. It was such a clash of culture, in such a small amount of space.

I think my favorite moment was when I bought my favorite ice cream treat, sat on the corner of a huge intersection and just watched the masses. I'm learning that Tokyo has many faces, and not just the millions of literal faces. And even with all the free time I'll have here, I imagine I won't see even a fraction of them.

first visitors

So a few nights ago, we got home after a gourmet McDonald's dinner, and to our surprise, we had a few visitors.

As it turns out, one should not leave food out unless it is properly sealed. And I had put the fruit out on the counter. And apparently these GINORMOUS cockroaches enjoy fruit. So Jess (who, I might add, actually does not kill bugs in the states - he scoops them up and puts them outside, letting them be on their merry way) went on a killing rage. Just call him the terminator.

First he asked me for the dish soap. Then he grabbed a shoe and smacked them - however because they're so freaking big, they require more than one smack. So for efficiency's sake, he'd smack then drip with dish soap - they don't so much like gooey legs. He got five, and we watched the sixth disappear into a hole in the kitchen floor.

Which of course is now lined with dish soap. :)

P.S. For an excellent view of the cockroaches leg hair, I'd recommend clicking the photo. Gag. Me.

choosing

So I was in the mood for a not-so-Asian lunch today. And while I must give Japan-McDonald's props for creating a fried shrimp patty sandwich (I kid you not), I just wasn't feeling it today. So I ran to the convenience store and picked up a sandwich and chips. As I opened the sandwich, I noticed the writing across the front:

(We hope you can choose the best one for yourself.)

I hope I chose the best one...tasted good...quite good actually.

P.S. Notice my sandwich is crustless. Gone are the days of my sneaky crust removal. Brilliant move Japan, simply brilliant.

watcha got cookin'?

So I had to warm up some noodles yesterday. And luckily, this apartment is equipped with a microwave. I put the food in the microwave, shut the door...

...and then stared.

So correct me if I'm wrong, but it appears that I should:

Press 1 to cook ice.
Press 2 to cook bread.
Press 3 to cook milk or cheese.
Press 4 to cook a casserole.
Press 5 to cook a cupcake.
Press 6 to cook poultry.
Press 7 to cook rice (pudding?).

As it turns out, I just pushed the red button. Which seems to have done the trick, as the unit started whirring and my noodles came out hot.

Now for the washer.


Green looks like a good button.

lost in translation

So I've thought of a job I could do while in Asia.

You see, they really love shirts with English phrases on them. However, they rarely make any sense. It's like you can see where they were trying to go, but they're always just a little off, like, "Peace, Love, Equal in the Heart," random phrases. And because the Japanese girls are the size of my calf, I rarely even have the option of purchasing these shirts. So when I stumbled upon one yesterday that looked as though it might fit, I had to buy it.

What the?

So I'm thinking I'd make a really good English slogan t-shirt designer/proofreader. I could help them out with some sweet shirts that actually said something.

Although then they wouldn't be Japanese, which is why I love them so.

PLEASE NOTE: The shirt came with two extra button pins. Sweet.