Everyone has a new year's resolution of going on a diet and exercising with the aim of loosing weight. Maybe not everyone but definitely every woman does, I know I did. But my usual procrastinating self got in the way of that. I've decided to get back on the band wagon which involves portion control and some form of exercise. I'm thinking ラジオ体操 (Radio Exercise), it's only 3min and I'm not into hardcore exercise so it perfect, plus the piano music's just delightful. I'm gonna try to keep it up for a month. Wish me luck!
Sunday, January 30, 2011
The September Issue vol.1 chp 6 Sōsuke's garden
Sōsuke's the name of the main character in one of my favouritest (I'm aware it's not a word but it's so apt) films ever, Gake no ue no Ponyo. When I told him that he said that he preferred Spirited Away. Don't get me wrong, Spirited Away is great but Ponyo's... Ponyo's just spectacular!!!
We were sitting in the cafe, again. I was beginning to think that we needed a new hangout. He had a cup of coffee and I had a cup of hot chocolate. I was wondering about his tattoo, so I asked, luckily he was wearing just a T-shirt and a hoodie so he took it off and rolled up his sleeve. I'd expected something cliche and ordinary like a dragon or a snake but I should have known better, Sōsuke's not ordinary. It was a beautiful garden with jasmine; like my mother's back in London, crocuses with violet tips that bleached into pastel lilac that bleached into pale mauve and the peonies, oh the peonies; peachy pink ones with hints of sunset orange, white ones; not stark or clinical but with depth like ivory. Each flower was perfection. I couldn't help myself and before I thought my hands were reaching for his arm to touch, to get a better look. I stopped when he twitched and remembered to ask if it was okay. He chuckled and said it was. The peonies hang down from his shoulder caressed by the deep green shrubbery of jasmine which itself was spotted with tiny white jasmine flowers while the crocuses exploded from his elbow down to his forearm. I leaned in to smell as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as if the garden on his arm was alive. I laughed at my sheer stupidity. He cocked a questioning eyebrow. I ignored him and carried on studying this garden which seemed to follow the subtle undulations of his arm. Just then I had a thought that it would have been spectacular if he could have tattooed a peony on his palm so that he was always holding it. I told him I was pretty much indifferent to gardens but this was officially my favourite. He chuckled again. Apparently it had been his original design so my praise was very much welcomed. We talked about why he got the tattoo and why I hadn't. I told him that I'd somehow convinced myself that keeping my body a blank canvas was just as big a statement as being covered in a huge one. He laughed again. Apparently I was very funny today.
But today was my turn to ask the question and so I reminded him of that. I beamed as he ran his thumb and index finger across his mouth like a zip. When I asked him what he was doing working in the cafe he remarked that it was something to do while he figured out what he really wanted to do. Seeing as I'm a bit of a late bloomer I could understand. I asked if he was a native of Tokyo. Nope, he said he was from Gunma and that he'd moved here to be closer to his brother. His family owned a fabric company and they specialised in dyeing. I popped up like a bunny, my ears were at attention. I'd been resting on the table as I listened but this really got my attention. It was like my book, my Japanese fashion book that I'd bought years ago and still adored. I asked him if he knew of the processes in dyeing and he gave me a "of course I do", playful, chiding kinda look. Ever since I'd read that book I'd been interested in fabric dyeing, alas none of my attempts came to fruition because my vision was often too complicated for my amateur skills. I tend to get overly ambitious about projects I lack the skill to finish.
Hold on a sec, your little brother doesn't look like he's fully Japanese I said. So you finally realised who he was, he said. I nodded and waited for an answer. He was resting his head on the palm of his hand while his eyes wandered around the room for a couple of seconds before they came back to mine. He said that his parents were divorced and that his mother had remarried a French guy. So your father's still in Gunma. Yeah, he replied, he was running the business. He didn't seem like he wanted to linger on the topic so I told him his brother was cute but sneaky. He grinned as if he knew just how sneaky he was.
I told him that he was a bag of wonders and that reminded me to ask him about our first meeting. I told him that I thought he was having a bad day and that I was making him work harder than he needed or wanted to. He laughed again, he was a barrel of laughs today. He said that he had been having a bad day because he'd had a cycling accident the day before and his back felt like shit and he'd preferred to have sat at home in pain than stand at work in pain but he couldn't afford to miss a day of work. That explains the Mintease, I said. Actually it was Tiger balm, he replied.
When we got to the station, he asked if I'd be willing to tutor him in English. I said sure, I enjoyed his company so I'd be willing to help him out. He didn't need to pay cos I felt bad taking money from him when I was getting as much out of our conversations as he would get out of my tutoring. When I told him as much, he looked uncomfortable at the idea and I could tell we were gonna have to compromise on that one. It seemed as good a time as any so I told him that lesson one was formal introductions.
Hello, my name is SayJapanese. It's a pleasure to meet you.
We were sitting in the cafe, again. I was beginning to think that we needed a new hangout. He had a cup of coffee and I had a cup of hot chocolate. I was wondering about his tattoo, so I asked, luckily he was wearing just a T-shirt and a hoodie so he took it off and rolled up his sleeve. I'd expected something cliche and ordinary like a dragon or a snake but I should have known better, Sōsuke's not ordinary. It was a beautiful garden with jasmine; like my mother's back in London, crocuses with violet tips that bleached into pastel lilac that bleached into pale mauve and the peonies, oh the peonies; peachy pink ones with hints of sunset orange, white ones; not stark or clinical but with depth like ivory. Each flower was perfection. I couldn't help myself and before I thought my hands were reaching for his arm to touch, to get a better look. I stopped when he twitched and remembered to ask if it was okay. He chuckled and said it was. The peonies hang down from his shoulder caressed by the deep green shrubbery of jasmine which itself was spotted with tiny white jasmine flowers while the crocuses exploded from his elbow down to his forearm. I leaned in to smell as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as if the garden on his arm was alive. I laughed at my sheer stupidity. He cocked a questioning eyebrow. I ignored him and carried on studying this garden which seemed to follow the subtle undulations of his arm. Just then I had a thought that it would have been spectacular if he could have tattooed a peony on his palm so that he was always holding it. I told him I was pretty much indifferent to gardens but this was officially my favourite. He chuckled again. Apparently it had been his original design so my praise was very much welcomed. We talked about why he got the tattoo and why I hadn't. I told him that I'd somehow convinced myself that keeping my body a blank canvas was just as big a statement as being covered in a huge one. He laughed again. Apparently I was very funny today.
But today was my turn to ask the question and so I reminded him of that. I beamed as he ran his thumb and index finger across his mouth like a zip. When I asked him what he was doing working in the cafe he remarked that it was something to do while he figured out what he really wanted to do. Seeing as I'm a bit of a late bloomer I could understand. I asked if he was a native of Tokyo. Nope, he said he was from Gunma and that he'd moved here to be closer to his brother. His family owned a fabric company and they specialised in dyeing. I popped up like a bunny, my ears were at attention. I'd been resting on the table as I listened but this really got my attention. It was like my book, my Japanese fashion book that I'd bought years ago and still adored. I asked him if he knew of the processes in dyeing and he gave me a "of course I do", playful, chiding kinda look. Ever since I'd read that book I'd been interested in fabric dyeing, alas none of my attempts came to fruition because my vision was often too complicated for my amateur skills. I tend to get overly ambitious about projects I lack the skill to finish.
Hold on a sec, your little brother doesn't look like he's fully Japanese I said. So you finally realised who he was, he said. I nodded and waited for an answer. He was resting his head on the palm of his hand while his eyes wandered around the room for a couple of seconds before they came back to mine. He said that his parents were divorced and that his mother had remarried a French guy. So your father's still in Gunma. Yeah, he replied, he was running the business. He didn't seem like he wanted to linger on the topic so I told him his brother was cute but sneaky. He grinned as if he knew just how sneaky he was.
I told him that he was a bag of wonders and that reminded me to ask him about our first meeting. I told him that I thought he was having a bad day and that I was making him work harder than he needed or wanted to. He laughed again, he was a barrel of laughs today. He said that he had been having a bad day because he'd had a cycling accident the day before and his back felt like shit and he'd preferred to have sat at home in pain than stand at work in pain but he couldn't afford to miss a day of work. That explains the Mintease, I said. Actually it was Tiger balm, he replied.
When we got to the station, he asked if I'd be willing to tutor him in English. I said sure, I enjoyed his company so I'd be willing to help him out. He didn't need to pay cos I felt bad taking money from him when I was getting as much out of our conversations as he would get out of my tutoring. When I told him as much, he looked uncomfortable at the idea and I could tell we were gonna have to compromise on that one. It seemed as good a time as any so I told him that lesson one was formal introductions.
Hello, my name is SayJapanese. It's a pleasure to meet you.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
The September Issue vol.1 chp 5 Robin who?
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Man Bras
Justin Lee Collins, the greatness from Bristol, is in Japan trying to immerse himself in the culture. It's already way better than Kelly Osbourne's Turning Japanese but that might be because he's funnier. He's looking at some of the biggest crazes in Japan at the moment, which includes a visit to the producers of men's lingerie. Yeah, Japanese men wear lingerie. For me and you that would mean that they were cross-dressers, but for the Japanese it's a stress relief. What happened to drinking, massages, extreme sports, long baths...SEX! I think I read about this on GaijinPot a while ago, but... wow! It's different seeing the live action version.
A day in a life of monotony
I get up around 12:30 in the afternoon.
I shower.
I go downstairs to eat/nibble.
I go back upstairs to study.
I sleep at 6am after updating my blog.
My life of teaching myself Japanese, Psychology and Sociology is a quiet and sometimes boring one - a bit like this post, lol.
I shower.
I go downstairs to eat/nibble.
I go back upstairs to study.
I sleep at 6am after updating my blog.
My life of teaching myself Japanese, Psychology and Sociology is a quiet and sometimes boring one - a bit like this post, lol.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
The September Issue vol.1 chp 4 My New Friend
Turns out Perky Ken was actually the older brother of a student. With all the reluctance I got from the beginning, he sang like a Canary when I asked him if we'd met before. Apparently I had had enough of an impression on the student for him to tell his brother about me. It's a small world; the chances that I would go back to that cafe, that he would put two and two together are probably like one in a million but I hate math so I'm not even gonna try guessing. I couldn't recall his brother's face at that moment - I had met so many kids since I got here - so I just nodded and smiled and pretended to know.
Perky Ken was pleasant looking, now that I was taking a proper look at him, in the way Asian men are. I'm not sure how to describe it, but for the most part, I'm not attracted to Asian men and I would never call one sexy, so I just settle on pleasant. It's not like I wouldn't go out with an Asian man, it's just that I don't react to most of them. Then again I've got odd taste in men... but that's another post. The even funnier thing is that I don't react to black men either, even I think it's weird considering I'm black. I kinda think of them the way I think of my male family members, except they're not.
Like I said Perky Ken was pleasant. He was about 5'10"; but being as short as I am everyone seems tall to me. He had black neck length hair in a ponytail/bun thing and a scruffy beard. He had light brown eyes and an ear piercing, the tragus type. I once had delusions of getting that piercing done but body art of any kind should be done on impulse coz if you wait, you won't ever do it and I waited. He had on a pair of jeans, a Radiohead T-shirt and underneath that was a long-sleeve grey T-shirt. It didn't seem long enough to cover his arm so I could see the beginnings of a tattoo just beneath his wrist. It was a big. I like big coloured tattoos that cover a substantial portion of the body. I also had delusions of a torso length tattoo made up of an assortment of stars, as in twinkle twinkle. I figured if I was gonna have a tattoo it was gonna be one everybody would know about, again I waited. I think it's called a sleeve when it covers the entire length of the arm. I suspected it was a dragon but I couldn't get a good look and I didn't want to stare. He was leaning over as he rattled on about his brother, he smelled of some eau de toilette (I'm not good with perfumes) and Mintease??? I hate the smell of anything menthol based do I offered him a seat to stop him from washing over me.
We talked about me, his brother - just as I figured out who he was - and what's always on everyone's mind: "Why did you wanna study Japanese?" The funny thing was, there I was using the politest Japanese the situation required and there he was talking to me ask if I was a childhood friend. He was odd. His enthusiasm was intoxicating. I was drunk on it and so I wanted to know more. He was odd but I liked it, he wasn't shielded like everybody else.
After about 20 min his boss called him to get back to work and I realised that I hadn't asked his name which, thinking about it now, was kinda random because we'd been talking for the longest time I'd spent talking to anyone here in a casual setting. I hadn't asked and he hadn't offered. So as he got up I asked. I should already know his name he said. I smiled and he said "My name is Sōsuke", I smiled wider...
Perky Ken was pleasant looking, now that I was taking a proper look at him, in the way Asian men are. I'm not sure how to describe it, but for the most part, I'm not attracted to Asian men and I would never call one sexy, so I just settle on pleasant. It's not like I wouldn't go out with an Asian man, it's just that I don't react to most of them. Then again I've got odd taste in men... but that's another post. The even funnier thing is that I don't react to black men either, even I think it's weird considering I'm black. I kinda think of them the way I think of my male family members, except they're not.
Like I said Perky Ken was pleasant. He was about 5'10"; but being as short as I am everyone seems tall to me. He had black neck length hair in a ponytail/bun thing and a scruffy beard. He had light brown eyes and an ear piercing, the tragus type. I once had delusions of getting that piercing done but body art of any kind should be done on impulse coz if you wait, you won't ever do it and I waited. He had on a pair of jeans, a Radiohead T-shirt and underneath that was a long-sleeve grey T-shirt. It didn't seem long enough to cover his arm so I could see the beginnings of a tattoo just beneath his wrist. It was a big. I like big coloured tattoos that cover a substantial portion of the body. I also had delusions of a torso length tattoo made up of an assortment of stars, as in twinkle twinkle. I figured if I was gonna have a tattoo it was gonna be one everybody would know about, again I waited. I think it's called a sleeve when it covers the entire length of the arm. I suspected it was a dragon but I couldn't get a good look and I didn't want to stare. He was leaning over as he rattled on about his brother, he smelled of some eau de toilette (I'm not good with perfumes) and Mintease??? I hate the smell of anything menthol based do I offered him a seat to stop him from washing over me.
We talked about me, his brother - just as I figured out who he was - and what's always on everyone's mind: "Why did you wanna study Japanese?" The funny thing was, there I was using the politest Japanese the situation required and there he was talking to me ask if I was a childhood friend. He was odd. His enthusiasm was intoxicating. I was drunk on it and so I wanted to know more. He was odd but I liked it, he wasn't shielded like everybody else.
After about 20 min his boss called him to get back to work and I realised that I hadn't asked his name which, thinking about it now, was kinda random because we'd been talking for the longest time I'd spent talking to anyone here in a casual setting. I hadn't asked and he hadn't offered. So as he got up I asked. I should already know his name he said. I smiled and he said "My name is Sōsuke", I smiled wider...
You once asked me...
...'How did we get here?'. And I had the answer straight away because I could never forget.
It was the first week of 2011 and the year hadn't started off the way I thought it would. I saw 2011 as my turning point. But nothing happened. I had trouble with university, or the lack there of, my A'levels and my dependency on Mother. I was in a funk, a depression. I wasn't supposed to be here, you see. I should have been in Japan loving or hating it. My room should have been empty.
In the beginning, I'd wake up everyday at 11am: have a bath, go downstairs and sit in the chair closest to the adaptor. I felt nothing so I said nothing. I was tired and sad and at that moment I wanted to be by myself. Unfortunately, all of you were home for the holidays. I wanted out... I couldn't breathe. Nurse was revising at the time and after having sat through three days of it your voice was like nails on a blackboard - I couldn't bare it. You remember, Nurse, you sat in the adjacent three-seater (which was her chair), and Mother was in the single beside me. Mami, you came down late so you got the floor, you were pregnant then, and we used to laugh about how you were having twins cos you were showing so early. I had to get away from you all and crawl into my bed and sleep because that was all I could think of doing that would help. As I got up I remember Mami asking me if I was going up to study and I said yes. What I was really thinking was "Whatever makes you happy. I can tell you'd prefer to sit on a chair so, enjoy".
I slept that day. I didn't eat or drink. I remember Mother poking her head in to ask what was wrong, and I remember thinking that you didn't really want to know, that maybe this was more of a formality for you. I told you I was tired and you were happy to leave it at that. I slept the next day. I ate a little. No one came to my room.
I started my A'level revision soon after, but I stopped going downstairs and I hardly ate. I thought about going to the Doctor but I was unsure and I couldn't will myself to go.
What upset me most was that you were all so willing to accept that 'she was just upstairs in her room and would come out when she felt like it wasn't our place to interfere'. I wanted someone to talk to; someone I could tell that I felt stuck and isolated and a failure. I needed someone to poke their head in my door and ask if I was okay. Someone to know me well enough to know that me saying I was okay was a lie. I wanted someone to sit at the edge of my bed while I lay in it. I wanted you to eventually ask me again what was wrong. But you never did. And having me as the absentee family member seemed to work for you guys. So I stayed upstairs and I studied and slept and ate...sometimes. And after a while it was like I was never there.
It was the first week of 2011 and the year hadn't started off the way I thought it would. I saw 2011 as my turning point. But nothing happened. I had trouble with university, or the lack there of, my A'levels and my dependency on Mother. I was in a funk, a depression. I wasn't supposed to be here, you see. I should have been in Japan loving or hating it. My room should have been empty.
In the beginning, I'd wake up everyday at 11am: have a bath, go downstairs and sit in the chair closest to the adaptor. I felt nothing so I said nothing. I was tired and sad and at that moment I wanted to be by myself. Unfortunately, all of you were home for the holidays. I wanted out... I couldn't breathe. Nurse was revising at the time and after having sat through three days of it your voice was like nails on a blackboard - I couldn't bare it. You remember, Nurse, you sat in the adjacent three-seater (which was her chair), and Mother was in the single beside me. Mami, you came down late so you got the floor, you were pregnant then, and we used to laugh about how you were having twins cos you were showing so early. I had to get away from you all and crawl into my bed and sleep because that was all I could think of doing that would help. As I got up I remember Mami asking me if I was going up to study and I said yes. What I was really thinking was "Whatever makes you happy. I can tell you'd prefer to sit on a chair so, enjoy".
I slept that day. I didn't eat or drink. I remember Mother poking her head in to ask what was wrong, and I remember thinking that you didn't really want to know, that maybe this was more of a formality for you. I told you I was tired and you were happy to leave it at that. I slept the next day. I ate a little. No one came to my room.
I started my A'level revision soon after, but I stopped going downstairs and I hardly ate. I thought about going to the Doctor but I was unsure and I couldn't will myself to go.
What upset me most was that you were all so willing to accept that 'she was just upstairs in her room and would come out when she felt like it wasn't our place to interfere'. I wanted someone to talk to; someone I could tell that I felt stuck and isolated and a failure. I needed someone to poke their head in my door and ask if I was okay. Someone to know me well enough to know that me saying I was okay was a lie. I wanted someone to sit at the edge of my bed while I lay in it. I wanted you to eventually ask me again what was wrong. But you never did. And having me as the absentee family member seemed to work for you guys. So I stayed upstairs and I studied and slept and ate...sometimes. And after a while it was like I was never there.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Mr. LaMontagne
In between depression, kanji and stupid A'levels, I realised that I love Ray LaMontagne. I feel like he's giving me a hug when he sings.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Claude Debussy/Tokyo Sonata
I don't know much about classical music and I've never attempted to expand on that. I know that I like piano music and I know the greats like Beethoven and Mozart but, in the Western world, you'd have to have been living under a rock not to know those people. I don't know their music, though. My one and only true classical love affair has been with Claude Debussy's Clair de Lune. It is my definition of beauty. When we talk about such things we often refer to the tangible, but I believe that this is the sound beauty makes. The first time I heard it I imagined water, water from a brooke approaching new territory, nimbly finding it's way through a trial of jagged rocks. It slowly and tirelessly made those rocks into supple stones. It did so elegantly but with tenacity, never yielding. In the subsequent times I've listen to this piece I've discovered the wild through my mind's eye; a dense, overwhelmingly green forest that dazzles the eyes while humming the tunes of trickling freshwater into your ears.
I just finished watching Tokyo Sonata... I wasn't in love. The parents where morons, the elder brother was a flake, I only truly empathised with the youngest son who had to live in that lunacy. I once had a dream of playing the piano but I knew my parents couldn't afford it so I never brought it up, but this kid did. When they said 'no' he found a way to have his opportunity regardless. I admire his courage. The kid turns out to be a prodigy according to his teacher but it is not until the very last scene that we experience this. He was the films saving grace.
He performed Clair de Lune by Debussy, he played it perfectly. Exactly like my Francois-Joel Thiollier copy. He commanded my attention as well as his audience's. Not only was he beautiful, in that moment, but he created beauty with his tiny adolescent hands. He made me see that forest. Now, at 01:49 am, I'm wondering if I should let go and start creating my beauty...
I just finished watching Tokyo Sonata... I wasn't in love. The parents where morons, the elder brother was a flake, I only truly empathised with the youngest son who had to live in that lunacy. I once had a dream of playing the piano but I knew my parents couldn't afford it so I never brought it up, but this kid did. When they said 'no' he found a way to have his opportunity regardless. I admire his courage. The kid turns out to be a prodigy according to his teacher but it is not until the very last scene that we experience this. He was the films saving grace.
He performed Clair de Lune by Debussy, he played it perfectly. Exactly like my Francois-Joel Thiollier copy. He commanded my attention as well as his audience's. Not only was he beautiful, in that moment, but he created beauty with his tiny adolescent hands. He made me see that forest. Now, at 01:49 am, I'm wondering if I should let go and start creating my beauty...
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
The September Issue vol.1 chp 3 Perky Ken
I went back to that cafe. Not to look for him but to make a new friend. I wouldn't normally seek out friends but I realise that, along with an unlimited access to the world wide web, friends are necessary for my balance. I entered the cafe with a ding-a-ling (it still had an effect) and sat in my little corner. Unfortunately, the jaded waitress was absent - probably her day off. She'd been replaced by a super perky waiter with a super smile; perky creeps me out. He approached me with a sincere, wide-eyed smile and I couldn't help but do the same; it was an unconscious reflex, my go to instinct like how a moth is compelled to fly towards the light, I am compelled to smile. It's a curse. I missed the jaded waitress. I could remain indifferent with her. My shield of sugar and spice and everything nice had seen better days. It wasn't because of Japan. In my 'good first impression' mode, I gave no opinions on my beliefs, interests...TV, I was a cordial vault. Back in London I wasn't constantly meeting new people so I could relax every once in a while. This place, this new place made it difficult to get to know anyone or for anyone to get to know me. My defences were permanently up.
Perky's cheeks started to twitch. It was a bit devilish but I smiled back wider and he followed with his eyes screaming irritation which made me smile even more. I decided to order because it was getting cruel. I ordered a hot chocolate, of course, and an omelette. It came and I ate. It had mushrooms, and spinach; I'm not a fan of mushrooms but once something is placed in front of me I feel compelled to eat. Maybe it's having lived in Ghana for all those years; you dare not leave perfectly good food on the plate. It wasn't about the poverty, it was about culture. You did what you were told without question.
So I finished everything and ordered some water from Perky Ken while I tried take two of reading Norwegian Wood. He came back with my water, I thanked him and went back to my book. I expected to hear his footsteps as he walked away but it never came. I eventually looked up to find him staring down at me, intensely. Something had piqued his interest. He looked like, for the first time in the 20 minutes we'd known each other, he actually wanted to talk to me. I figured it was because of the book. I titled my head to the right and gave him the warmest smile I could muster. It was my best comforting teacher look, the look were you pretend that you're understanding and neutral and a haven. I'm not normally underhanded with my powers but he'd piqued my interest. He didn't bite. He excused himself when he caught me looking. I watched as he went behind the counter and came out with a wipe, pretending to be busy, wiping clean tables. So I bit.
Perky's cheeks started to twitch. It was a bit devilish but I smiled back wider and he followed with his eyes screaming irritation which made me smile even more. I decided to order because it was getting cruel. I ordered a hot chocolate, of course, and an omelette. It came and I ate. It had mushrooms, and spinach; I'm not a fan of mushrooms but once something is placed in front of me I feel compelled to eat. Maybe it's having lived in Ghana for all those years; you dare not leave perfectly good food on the plate. It wasn't about the poverty, it was about culture. You did what you were told without question.
So I finished everything and ordered some water from Perky Ken while I tried take two of reading Norwegian Wood. He came back with my water, I thanked him and went back to my book. I expected to hear his footsteps as he walked away but it never came. I eventually looked up to find him staring down at me, intensely. Something had piqued his interest. He looked like, for the first time in the 20 minutes we'd known each other, he actually wanted to talk to me. I figured it was because of the book. I titled my head to the right and gave him the warmest smile I could muster. It was my best comforting teacher look, the look were you pretend that you're understanding and neutral and a haven. I'm not normally underhanded with my powers but he'd piqued my interest. He didn't bite. He excused himself when he caught me looking. I watched as he went behind the counter and came out with a wipe, pretending to be busy, wiping clean tables. So I bit.
Monday, December 6, 2010
The story so far
So I've been away for a while. I can't really explain it except to say that I didn't feel like it. I recently sat the JLPT N5, which is a proficiency test for Japanese, it's the most basic level. I'm pretty sure I failed. And I know this because throughout my academic years I've learned that when I think I've failed, I've failed and when I think I've passed, I've passed. I can't guess and I can't wing it. It's a curse. My vocabulary was great, because all I do is Kanji. But that's not the problem when it's only a third of the whole test. I'm not that upset because now I know where I need extra help on in my studies, but it cost me 70 quid to figure that out.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
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 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.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
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.
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.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)