Thursday, September 26, 2002

*... uchi, sweet uchi ...*
I can finally say that my apartment is starting to feel like my own, and not just some place I am staying. I am slowly working my way thru cleaning all the sheets and blankets in it (which I don't think has been done for at least 3 years) and am still on the hunt for a vacuum. Other than that, it's homey. Not too many britt-knicknacks yet, but I am working on it. Apparently I have settled in a country which does not believe in posters.

I was thinking about dyeing my hair pink. I mean I have always wanted to do it, and if it would be okay anywhere, it would seem it would be okay here. Everyone dyes their hair here, mostly brown. Most people think my hair is already dyed. But then I have come to realize that the unique humidity levels here is something my hair has never seen, so in protest it curls up like none other. I wake up every morning looking not at all unlike Shirley Temple. So my pink hair plans have been thwarted out of fear of ending up looking like Bozo the Clown.

1:54 PM

Monday, September 23, 2002

*... 3 days, 18 trains, and 9 hours of sleep later ...*
Anyone who knows me enough knows that I hate the train. I really do. If you need to know why, give me a call, and I can give you a 20-minute dissertation on why I dislike the train. So why, you may ask, did I choose to spend about 18 hours on it over the past 3 days? The answer, my friend, is Ibaraki. Iba-what?? Ibaraki is the prefecture North of Tokyo. It is the home of JP and Alan. And it is where I decided to adventure this weekend. There is no direct way to get from Niigata to Ibaraki, so the train was pretty much option # only. The first train out of Niigata was at 5:30AM and 7 HOURS and 4 train-switches (2 times almost getting off at the wrong stop) later, I got to Koga, JPs city. At least I got to see lots of the countryside, very green except where they have harvested the rice already, and that just looks like someone's lawn in SoCal, yellow and rough. And I didn't see a single wild monkey. Bummer. Apparently the local train tracks are NOT the place to hang for wild monkeys. I wonder why...?)Apparently the local train tracks are NOT the place to hang for wild monkeys. I wonder why...?) I noticed that there were a bunch o'great ski and boarding places around. But I also realized why you never hear of great Japanese snowboarders; I have determined they are all in traction somewhere, b/c these mountains are STEEP. Giving me second thoughts about wanting to go boarding... By the way, this train adventure has at least afforded one great mystery: And thus I have found the greatest challenge Japan has to offer: an elevated (meaning you have to step up on this little platform) squat toilet on a rocking train. How I managed not to slip and land head first in this pit is beyond me. Yet another reason I have little affection for trains.

The Ibaraki adventure consisted of meeting up with a bunch of other Ibaraki JETs and heading off to Tokyo, more specifically Roppongi, for the night. More trains later, we stepped onto the scene in Roppongi. The best way for me to describe this place is the landscape of New York City, the lights and glamour (??) of Las Vegas, and the sleaze of Tijuana. Lots of that. We made our way to a club that is apparently quite the international hotspot, as there were pics of celebrities from around the world lining the walls. I was chatting with the manager, Bill from Ohio, and he was telling me that Bobby spreads the word. Bobby is Robert DeNiro to you and me.... hmmm. We stayed the entire night in the club, except when JP and I wandered to Freshness Burger to get some grub. Upon returning, we were informed that we were then going to have 2 days of diarrhea since we chose Freshness Burger (none so far, knock on wood!) Why someone didn't inform me ahead of time, I don't know. Thanks, guys.

I would tell you details of the night, but I must protect the not-so-innocent. There are mothers and children reading this. But we all made it back in one piece. JP and I crashed, waken only enough to get some of the best ramen EVER. Sunday night we headed to another Ibaraki town, Shimodate, to a house/bday party with pretty much the same people as the night before. How they were still standing is beyond me. I at least got to see Karin, the girl I sat next to on the plane ride over, and haven't been able to catch up with since. It was good to see her. And I got to experience the wonderful hospitality of Alan, whose mom reads this all the way over in England. Hi mom! Plus JP and I found a great little okonomiyaki place, so that was goooooood eats.

The ride home the next day was a long one, since we had to get up at the butt-crack of dawn to catch (more wretched) trains. I unfortunately missed the express back to Niigata, so that was another lovely 7 hours, switching every hour, hour 'n' half along the way, so no chance to sleep. Once I got home, I did laundry (out, out damned Roppongi!) and crashed at about 7pm. And woke up this morning sick. Of course. But all in all, what an adventure. Whoo!

*... the end is near ...*
There comes a time in every young woman's life where she realizes that nothing lasts forever. And when that realization comes in the form of your underwire coming out of your bra, the realization can be a devastating one, ESPECIALLY if you are a, ehem, enhanced foreigner with quite quite limited resources to replace said bra. The depleted inventory can be a hazard to the community. Those of you who are in similar physical situations and have been to this country (you know who you are!)... well, I feel your support from here. But unfortunately it's not the kind of support that will allow me to walk down the street without injuring someone (myself included.). I think I am gonna go cry.
11:30 AM