The September Issue vol.1 chp 2 Who the hell was that guy?

I didn't notice him at first; but that's what I do, I don't notice, it's necessary for my sanity. He was standing outside one of the boutiques I'd visited the week previous. He wanted shelter, like I did. It was pouring and I had my 'fro out so there was no way in hell I was gonna walk home through that. I wouldn't even if my house was 2 feet away. In case you don't know, afro hair shrinks severely in water. The day hadn't started out that badly; it was bright, a bit chilly but the warmth of the sunshine made that okay. It reminded me of England, I seldom missed England but on days like this it reminded me and when I remembered I missed. I was busy cursing the clouds when I realised that he was there. I noticed the smoke before I actually noticed him. Second-hand smoke is a no no for me. I wanna die because of something I did and not because some moron decided to pick up an addiction. I took two steps away and covered my nose with my scarf, it probably did me no good but at least it smelled delicious, like a flowerbomb. I didn't care if he knew why.

It poured and poured, there was no sign of it ending so I retreated to a near-by cafe. He followed. It would have creeped me out if I was back in London but I was in Tokyo. I didn't really find any single person threatening, mainly because I was often viewed as the threat. Maybe that's too harsh, maybe I should say that I was viewed as an intimidating figure. But like typical Japanese they went out of they're way to be polite. It always amused me in the sporadic occasions when I bothered to observe the world around me; there's nothing intimidation about my stature.

As I entered the cafe there was a ding-a-ling...you know, that ringing sound from the shop bell. For a split second I felt like a magical woodland creature and that ding-a-ling was innate, an effervescent way of announcing my presence, it came from within me and it brought a smile to my face - my brain was quite fanciful today and I was enjoying it. The cafe was empty and on the small side but clean and kinda cosy like everything in Japan. I love cosy, I can't get enough of it; after 19 years in a London terraced house, I like small. I once visited my cousin while he lived in Atlanta, I often found myself house-bound when he went work. It wasn't that Atlanta was boring or anything like that, it was the roads... they freaked me out. They were huge and intimidating and they had matching huge and intimidating cars riding on them.

It was near empty; just an old guy sitting in the corner nearest to the entrance reading the day's paper while sipping on something hot, coffee maybe. I hate coffee, the smell pungent and the taste bitter. But the cafe was perfect for me because even though the old guy was sipping on the Devils hot drink there was enough space for me to get away from it. I found myself a corner similar to the old guys and glanced over the menu. I hardly read magazines or leaflets or things like that, I just skim-read looking for keywords, in this case it was 'Hot Chocolate'. I heard a ding-a-ling and there he was standing in the doorway, I quickly looked back at the menu and tried my hardest to read it. He had my attention though. And when I finally looked at him, I mean stole a glance and really looked at him I had a physical reaction to him. My brain was on fire, my neurons were like fireworks, they were lit in succession so that each flare corresponded to each stolen glance; something new and intriguing was revealed each time. It was like Guy Fawkes Night.

He wasn't Japanese, he was a westerner so he stood out. I make it a point not to hang around too many westerners; they form groups and they get into a bitching hold. He was tall, anyone is tall to a 5ft nothing like me but I'd say he was about 6ft 2in, he had dark brown hair and matching eyes. He was wearing an Iggy Pop T-shirt and a pair of stone washed jeans. He must have been cold but I did appreciate the love for Iggy. He looked marvelous. I thanked the gods, even tough I'm pretty much an atheist, that I decided to dress up today. He had a bit of a beard, not so thick that you couldn't see the skin beneath, but thick enough so that you could call it a beard instead of a shadow. He looked irritated, or at least that's how I perceived it. I ordered a hot chocolate from the jaded waitress, probably cos she was working a solo shift. I was drawn to her blase... maybe I'd visit again. I nursed my beverage while I tried to re-read Norwegian Wood. The rain stopped after a while and I hadn't gotten any further in the book. It felt like we'd been there for ages and I was acutely aware. I took the reprieve as my opportunity, got my things together and left with a ding-a-ling. I wanted to know more but I'm kinda inexperienced when it comes to the opposite sex. I glanced back and he was looking which was good, but he still looked pissed, which I just didn't get.

It happened 2 weeks ago but I forgot to write it

We were in the downstairs showroom and by we I mean the Henry VIII and the Sidekick who, according to her, went home early that day to study; not to disappear and never come back. After much observation I realised that her boss, the Brazilian, exaggerates things and anything he says should be taken with a grain of salt. We were trying on clothes, cos that's what you do when there's no supervision and the opportunity arises, and cataloging them when they're boss, the Brazilian, (I feel like I constantly need to say that cos it more sensory, when I say Brazilian you think a Rio de Janeiro - which he hates - and Miss World and tropical temperatures and cocktails and it all just seems so exciting) comes in and it's decided that he needs to try on some 5 inch heels. I'm not at all surprised when he finds a pair of heels that fit or when his buddy, our interim boss, the Dutchman (I'm running out of creative names) decides that he needs accessories so he adds a belt and one of the fake crowns we have lying about, and I'm not surprised to see that the Brazilian's waist is smaller than mine. I'm not surprised at all. In fact I'm laughing my head off. What I am surprised by is the way he struts in those 6 inch heels AND dances in them, like a regular at Stringfellow's I might add. Does the can can and so forth. It's a riot. It was a good afternoon but that was 2 weeks ago.

New Plan

I've decided to reject that bloody college. If they're willing to give away my place just because I was badly advised by an incompetent employee and just because they couldn't tell me, over the phone, that the fee would be 1,482 pounds then they don't deserve to have me studying in they're institution. At least, that's how I'm reconciling it. I've set my sights on self study, which I've been doing with Japanese so how hard can it be with Sociology and Psychology, she says (nervous laughter). I've found a place to take the exams and I've downloaded the spec for each course.

I feel good about the situation because sitting around another year was too painful to contemplate. I think in terms of wasted time as opposed to what's meant to be.

The Back-up

I had a back-up plan that was pretty air-tight. If I didn't get into the Japanese degree program I would re-do my A'levels just so I met the entry requirements of the course... it was a really solid plan. Nothing goes the way I want it to. I'm thinking about getting a horseshoe, a four-leaf clover, maybe even finding a pot of gold at the end any rainbow. Anything that would give me some luck would be perfect because I feel like the most unlucky person in the world. I can't re-do my A'levels this year because of some moron's bad, bad advice. The thing that bothers me the most is that it's another year I have to spend waiting, I don't want to mature or wait for fate because I don't believe in that shit. I'm mature enough and I'm ready.

The September Issue vol.1 chp 1 Departures

I've packed my bags. I'm ready. I'm so excited that I can't sleep but I need to sleep because I'm flying tomorrow and I don't sleep on planes. Economy is uncomfortable, even for 5ft nothing me. I could take a Tylenol but that would leave me sluggish in the morning and I don't want that. I'm full to the brim with anticipation. I'm going to Osaka tomorrow. Sayonara London. Sayonara UK. Sayonara Europe. ^_^

You know nothing about people

You'd think that after spending several weeks with some people you'd know them. But I don't. I don't know what about they're families or their journey to get here. I don't know them and I don't make it my business to. I enjoy writing on my blog and a key part of that is to be observant but I find that I care less and less about the people and things going on around me. I'm apathetic about most things right now. Maybe I'm going through one of my depressions, maybe I'm just jaded. I don't know...

It's just a fucking Cape!

Have you met that person who thinks that they know everything about fashion and therefore whatever they say is law. What they say is beyond reproach and a conversation that should have lasted only a few seconds ends up taking minutes of my precious time, which could have been spent daydreaming and lazing. It ends up as a mini argument and the subsequent silence all so that you can forget about the whole saga by the next day. It's boring, it's a waste of time and it's annoying. That person insists on arguing with everything that you say, just because they have thunder thighs and have to be very careful about how the dress. And in the end I think about how I didn't really care that much about the topic in the first place and I was only trying to banter and that she's 29 and this is so lame. I think about how I need a job so that I can get a hair cut and buy some lovely clothes instead of the clothes I've had for five years plus. The clothes I wore when I was 18. I think about how I'd love to be shopping in Japan and away from this situation because I'm bored, unbelievably bored and restricted. It's just a fucking Cape!

The September Issue vol.3 chp 1

I'm one of those confident types, I wear want I want when I want and anything I can't afford I make. I've realised all of my dreams. I'm as artistic and free as I ever wanted to be. I live in Japan. I started off in Osaka and after a year I moved to Yokohama, Tokyo. I hang around in Shibuya, Omotesando and Daikanyama regularly. I experience the street fashion I'm obsessed with and better yet I learn the language, the culture, the people. I am right where I want to be. I have my own dinky, minuscule tatami mat flat. I'm losing weight but that's welcomed. I'm on a budget and that means no matter how awful my cooking, I have to eat it. My closet space is non-existent but I pack lightly. I use a futon that I air out when the weather permits. The neighbours aren't very chatty - not like in Osaka - but I figure it's only a matter of time.

I work as a English teacher. Everyday I wake up in the morning, brush my teeth, shower, do my hair and get dressed; preferably something quirky but formal... not too formal, mind you; I'm not part of the herd of office, business, all-round serious people in this world. I work with these really great kids, some of them are called delinquents but I've seen worse. No one expects too much from me, they treat me as the foreigner, always different, never Japanese. It doesn't bother me that much because I'm still wondering around Japan with rose-tinted glasses. I take part in after-school activities like archery and film club. Commuting back from work, I stop by the 100 yen store to pick up some underwear and slippers.

On weekends I tutor a student for an hour; just for conversational English. We sit in a cafe and I have some type of fruit juice in the summer or hot chocolate in the winter; I don't drink tea or coffee. My student's a boy, he's painfully shy but I suspect that's because I'm foreign and not just any foreign, I'm black foreign. It doesn't bother me, though. He's a kid. Talking to him is like pulling teeth but I don't care because I'm still getting paid. One day we'll find a common ground, somewhere we can connect, I hope.

After tutoring I call my girl, we're going to see a movie. We're not sure which, we're just gonna get there and then decide. My Japanese is pretty solid by now so I can watch a Japanese film with no worries.  She's really cool. I met her at one of those uber cool vintage shops in Harajuku called Kinsella. She was rummaging around the scarf rack. I have a penchant for scarves. For some reason (I can't remember why) we start talking and we took it from there. Looking back it was very unusual for me to make a friend like that; I'm a bit of a loner, I'm an accidental loner... but a loner all the same. I head home for a clean up of my flat and I make a list of what I need. I head off the the mall in my high-waisted apparel jeans rolled up at the ankle and a cropped top I made out of African wax print. It's a warm enough day, though and I meet someone at the music store. We exchange numbers ^_^.

I get back home around 4:00pm and I'm out of my place just as soon as I got in. I need to get to the cinema's.

Post-August 19th

In My Reality: San was empty because that's exactly what happened. NOTHING. On the night of August 18th I found out that the university wasn't accepting any home/EU students through Clearing, effectively cancelling Clearing 2010. I never got a chance to try...

In My Reality: San

In My Mind: Ni

In my mind this is how I want the conversation on August 19th to go:

Tutor: What were your results?

Me: Three C's.

Tutor: You can't really do any of our courses...

Me: I know, but I got those grades like years ago.

Tutor: I see...

Me: For the past 3 years I been studying Biology at Queen Mary. Last summer I decided to drop out (I'm not sure whether I should add in the fact that I failed) and pursue Japanese full-time. Alongside studying at QM I've been teaching myself Japanese. I feel that I need guidance in my study, short of moving to Japan I don't know how else to best improve my Japanese skills. I really have a genuine passion for any thing Japanese, I want to know anything and everything. I think this uni has the perfect atmosphere to nurture that.

Tutor: Uh huh, uh huh..........Welcome aboard. Give us your clearing number and you can enroll in September.

Me: Woooooooooohoooooooooooooo.

THE END

In My Mind: Ichi

In my mind this is how the conversation on August 19th will go:

Tutor: What were your results?

Me: Three C's.

Tutor: You can't really do any of our courses... (Thanks to this shitty economy and even shittier Coalition Government there aren't any places left in clearing.)

Me: Not even Chinese? (I figure I could get my foot in the door.)

Tutor: NO!!!

ABRUPT END

Pre-August 19th

I'm bloody nervous and it's only August 17th. I have a plan. I have a speech. I'm gonna bombarded them with info about why I'm such a great prospect. I'm not gonna take no for an answer. I'm even thinking about bribing them, but that's for when I'm really desperate. I don't know whether I should write about what August 19th means to me because I don't want to jinx it... but I guess it's OK cos I'm not gonna publish it right away.

August 19th is an important day for any 18-ish year olds in England because the A'Level exam results come out. It's a day when you find out what else you're gonna be studying for the next 3-4 years. My results day was filled with tears because I got three C's, what a waste of tears: a) three C's aren't that bad; especially since I hardly studied for them, b) I would've been failing Biomedical Sciences at King's instead of Biology at Queen Mary. You can see that science was not in my future but I was trying to force the subject. At that spectacularly crap Catholic school I was always good at Art but I didn't pursue it. I didn't think that it was a 'serious' person's subject, so I did Biology and Chemistry... that's what 'serious' people do - you can see how green I was. I couldn't see a future in Art because I never felt like I was particularly good at it, I wasn't particularly good at the Sciences either but I thought I could get better. Why didn't I think I could get better at Art? I was short-sited (I really am short-sited if you saw my pics, hihi) and immature, but that's what you expect of a kid. I wish I'd had more guidance.

City of Westminster College is my back-up plan. I'm one of those people who didn't particularly like school. I'm also one of those people who give little effort or emotion to things that don't interest them. I don't want to go back to that college setting to do Biology, Psychology and Sociology just to get the A'level entry grades for BA Japanese. I might need to, though. Why would I want to go to university? University's a whole other kettle of fish, in my opinion. Queen Mary wasn't even that bad, I just hated Biology. I think studying something I love at a great uni would bring out the best in me. I mean, seriously...I'm a Ghanaian studying Japanese by myself. If I didn't have a passion for it I would have giving up when I started trying to memorise Kanji.

So here I am, wishing that I was Irish or a Leprechaun, praying that someone really fucks up their exams and I get their spot - I kinda feel guilty for that, though. Phone lines open at 9am, so I'll start ringing at 8:58. Fingers crossed, wish me luck. ^_^

You really get to know people

I had a great conversation with Henry VIII the other day. I said earlier that we hadn't really started yet but I think we have now. We talked about university; he told his school that their courses were shit even though he basically failed each year and still managed to graduate, I'm starting to think there's something wrong with me. Why couldn't I tell Stan that his course was shit but he should still let me progress to the third year even though I... ahh, he has the gift of the gab - a gift I'm trying to imitate come August 19th but that's another post. Then we went onto Japan; the lucky bastard got visit a friend in Tokyo the year before, I can at least say that my Japanese is better than his...but that's not really worth shit cos I really want to be in Japan. We even talked about Ghanaian food because he'd tried fufu, this coming out of a English boy had me pleasantly surprised ^_^.

The Queen and her Sidekick: these are two new characters in the saga that is my internship. They're generally pleasant, but they can give off this attitude. I'm not sure whether it's immaturity or the much documented black girl attitude; it doesn't help, in this world, to have that attitude. You have to behave in public, that's all I'm saying. You have to learn to put on a pleasant face when you're pissed off because, guess what, this is an internship. Even if they don't keep you on, you get the experience as well as something great to add to your CV. But they don't get that, the latter more so than the former. Maybe if they'd spent a year in exile, unsure of the future, unsure of plans laid, unsure of everything they would appreciate this opportunity more. I just found out today that the Sidekick left. Just up and gone. She went on her lunch break and never came back. I was chatting with the Showgirl about what a waste it was. It wasn't that bad, but she gave up becuase it wasn't worth it for her to grit her teeth and bare with it. I wonder if that's because of a lack of maturity. When I think about my situation last year, when I think about that sinking feeling and the need to get out of the situation as quickly as possible I wonder if giving up was that simple for her. Granted, she was a moody little cow, hihi (even the models thought so), but she could really talk to people when she wanted to. She could be really charming so that she built up a rapport with the clients - a skill I've only incrementally improved on. She even told me about the clients she had gained, her CV would've been great, what a waste.

I was studying Biology because I didn't take a breath after my A'Levels to truly understand what best suited me, I can be at peace with myself over the decision to quit a degree I had no intention of utilizing except to get my visa for Japan. The Sidekick is a fashion student, can she guarantee that she won't meet any of this people ever again? That they won't remember?

Look! It has Wiiiinnnggggssss

Do you like them, do you? Don't worry if you don't cos I do. Flaunt anything with a Japanese style heel or pleats (preferably not together) and I'm sold. I go crazy for these VW + Melissa Plastic Dreams Rocking Horse shoes, but alas I'm poor. Feel free to buy them for me in any colour, I really don't mind. I'm a European Size 5 (I'm a 5 and a half really, but no one sells that). ^_^ ............. .....and this.