HAPPY NEW YEAR! (and decade!)

Image from CNN Go

a.k.a.

Prepare for cheese...

Dear Friends,

I just want you all to know how much you mean to me. Looking back over '09, it has definitely been a year of strengthening friendships with wonderful new people, and simultaneously realising the strength of long-held friendships that I hope will stick for life.

Being here in this new land, where the roads are lit by vending machines and the language is strange and unfamiliar (but where there is so much to learn and experience!) I have realised just how lucky I am to have so many brilliant people already in my life.

I talk all the time about people back home, about crazy things I've done or fun events I've been to. I can't shut up about it half the time. And all of the amazing, fun and crazy things I've had the opportunity to enjoy have only been possible because of all of you – and how amazing, fun and crazy you are.

I'll wrap this up now, as it is partly due to an afternoon New Year's Eve gin (which is packing more of a punch than I'd like to admit!) and also because I don't want to be such a cornball in this oh-so-public forum.

In conclusion: You are all wonderful. And yes, I mean you. Don't forget that, and don't underestimate how much you bring to the lives of the people around you.

Happy New Year!

Love from,
The Girl Who Loves Gin A Little Too Much (but hell, it loves her right back!)

A Less Than Merry Christmas

I don't want this post to turn into The Great Wallow: Christmas '09, but let's just say that the past couple days have, for want of a better term, pretty much sucked.

Since I don't want this blog to be an edited, sunshine-and-roses account of my time in Tokyo, I'll briefly explain why Christmas '09 bit the big one.

For starters, I really missed my family and friends. That's a given. I knew it would be tough, but it was a lot harder than I had prepared myself for. Talking to them and thinking about them both helped and made it worse, too.

Second, life in Tokyo sure ain’t just all-you-can-drink specials, neon lights, ramen noodles and tutu-wearing fashionistas (though I wish it were!).

For example, trains can absolutely suck. Last night, after a long day of feeling lonely and homesick, I was on the train to Omiya when I realised that I felt absolutely horrible. I'm talking ill – dizzy, blurred vision, dancing spots in front of my eyes, cold sweat, really thought I was about to yak, almost at the point of passing out. This was helped by the delightful fact that at the time, I was crammed into the corner of a stuffy, hot and crowded train car – drunk salarymen all around, zero personal space, no fresh air to speak of.

Needless to say, we had to exit the train at the next stop (in the middle of who knows where) before I completely lost it. Naturally, my ailments also put a kibosh on our evening's plans – but we did get to wander around a freezing and almost empty train station and wait 15 minutes for the first of three trains that would get us all the way back home (after travelling about an hour or more to get to where we were).

So yes: Crammed into a corner, feeling queasy and awful and sad... my Christmas Day night wasn't exactly a high point. Plus I felt bad about ruining the evening with my stupid delicate stomach. (And hello, since when?! I can eat an entire pan full of nachos covered in questionable cheese and be fine! Heck, I go grocery shopping so little that sometimes I have to turn a blind eye to expiry dates when I'm really really hungry! But Japan Megan's stomach apparently balks at some goddamn rice covered in frickin' seaweed. Figures.) Coupled with an earlier bout of manic crying on a (very patient) shoulder (a spectacle of epic proportions – I'll admit that all my homesickness sort of came to head at once and next thing I knew I was blubbering like an idiot, with no end in sight) I was worn out, tired, sick, and hatin' on Christmas. And my eyes hurt. Probably from the blubbering.

Anyways, we made the journey all the way back home. It was grand. I had to clutch onto a rail and close my eyes to make it that last 5 or so stops without passing out/yakking/dissolving into more blubbering.

So I'm not quite feeling myself today, or yesterday, or possibly even tomorrow.

But hell, I'm in Tokyo! I know I'm hardly in a position to be complaining too loudly. I know I'll make the most of it (I hope!), it will be amazing, and I'll have so many once-in-a-lifetime experiences. But being here has also made me realise how much awesomeness I am lucky enough to have at home. And right now I really miss that awesomeness.

All that aside, I did get an unexpected Christmas present (of sorts), and discover that gin, orange juice and tonic water is a delicious drink. So the day wasn't all bad. And hey, tomorrow is a new one...

'A Place Called Home'

a.k.a.
A little bit of Tokyo all my own!
a.k.a.
Merry Christmas Eve!

After four weeks of listening to the same damn pan flute tune every night, of trekking down two flights of stairs to get to the shower/decent toilet, of sharing facilities with 70 strangers, of hitting my head on the top bunk, of the girl down the hall practising opera really loudly every morning, of people vacuuming at 2am, of listening to my French neighbour snore through my wall or my other neighbours stomp down the hallway… I have moved to my own apartment!

I love it. It is more space solely my own than I have ever had. I could put up shitloads of naked Harry Potter fan art if I wanted. (I won’t, though…) I could pick a character and cover every single surface with its face – Snoopy, Rilakkuma, Care Bears, Anpanman, or of course the ubiquitous Hello Kitty. (Doubt I’ll be doing that, either.) I could walk around naked for days on end, eat a bunch of peanuts and throw the shells on the ground, or sing show tunes at the top of my lungs. Point is – I’ve never had a place of my own before. I’ve never had a mailbox for just my mail, or a kitchen where all the food in the cupboard is mine (or rather, where the lack of food in the cupboard is solely my fault). Not that I don’t like shared living, I love it – but this is something totally new and exhilarating for me.

My toilet has a button that puts the seat up/down for you. There is also the bidet and seat-warming functions, although I’m yet to brave the former. My lights are remote controlled. With fancy dimmer functions for mood lighting. And I thought I’d need to buy a lamp – ha! Just press a button and BAM! Romantic lighting. Fluorescent lighting. No lighting. Awesome.

I’m glad I moved before Christmas. Actually, I’m glad about a lot of things.

***
It’s Christmas Eve. Christmas spirit is rampant here. I’ve seen about twenty different people in Santa-themed costumes today (as well as a cow and a Pikachu) and have heard almost every carol known to man. All day I’ve seen crowds lined up to buy tiny roast chickens, or gorgeous cakes with holly and strawberries on top.

On the way home tonight, I bought two pieces of fried chicken from two girls dressed as Mrs Claus. They were camped outside the Family Mart near where I live, and they had a little set-up complete with carols, a selection of Christmas cakes, and colourful signs. I wasn’t planning to buy any, but they were just so damn enthusiastic – waving their little sign by the side of the road, yelling and jumping around. How could I not buy some greasy deliciousness from them? I had managed to successfully breeze past every other vendor selling chicken/Christmas cakes/confectionery of the holiday kind/general cheer up to that point, too. Even the two girls outside CoCo, who instead of playing Christmas carols were playing the soundtrack to High School Musical 3 (do not even ask why I can recognise it). But these two girls… they were clearly having a great time, and didn’t care that they had to dress up as Mrs Claus and scream at the top of their lungs for several hours. It kinda made me smile. And it kinda made me want chicken.

Christmas in Japan is such a funny thing… but more on that another time.

***
All I want for Christmas is:

• Lomo camera
• Awesome sneakers I saw the other day
• Jalapeno poppers (Um, how have I never had these before?! Jalapenos stuffed with cream cheese and then deep-fried? Shit yes!)
• The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks
• Japanese ability
• Hugs from my friends and family
• Really, really cheesy lasagne
• A really, really cheesy Christmas movie
• Pie of any kind – I’m thinking apple, or a really good pumpkin
• Direction in life
• A sense of direction

***

Merry Christmas!

‘All My Friends’

a.k.a.
Christmas approaches… like a kitschy, glittery ball of nostalgia

You know what? It’s the small victories that matter.

It’s realising that the large building near your train station, the one you haven’t really noticed before, is actually a mother of a department store with all wonder of food stalls and import stores in its basement – not to mention a supermarket and a 100 yen store.

Needless to say, as both a cheapskate and food lover, I was filled with joy when I made this discovery. Two-minute noodles! Slippers for 100 yen! Over-priced comfort foods imported from home!

However, upon wandering into the supermarket, my happy wonderment was soon replaced with a homesick melancholy, complete with forlorn frown. The supermarket, lavishly decked out in full Christmas garb, was playing ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ – my favourite Christmas carol. I’ve always liked it, ever since I first heard it (which was probably in Home Alone or something), even though to be honest it’s been overused in every single corny American Christmas movie ever made.

Anyway, this was just another unhappy reminder that Christmas is just around the corner.

(Sigh. Here comes the unwelcome I-do-wish-I-was-having-Christmas-at-home rant.)

I mean, it’s just… I like Christmas shit. And I don’t want to end up sitting in my room by myself, in a Christmas hat, clutching a turkey bone and weeping on Christmas day this year. Scratch that – I’ll probably be clutching an empty bag of Doritos that I bought myself as a Christmas treat. Totally pathetic. I mean, you can’t even really pull a bon bon by yourself. Instead of feasting on prawns and consumerism in the sunshine back home, I’ll probably just end up reading the Christmas Day portions of all the Harry Potter books and eating a block of over-priced cheese.

(Actually, that said, one thing I will definitely be doing this year is watching corny Christmas movies – such as It’s a Wonderful Life – since there’s no one around to judge me.)

[I heart you, Jimmy Stewart]

Anyways, this is what I was thinking about when I did my first Tokyo grocery shop. I bought mandarins, orange juice and peanut butter, stopped myself from getting all misty-eyed in the vegetable section, almost tripped an elderly lady with a walking frame, managed to pay for my goods without insulting the cashier, and made it home before the wallowing truly kicked in. Like I said, small victories.

***
Back home, my friends and I used to have a big Thanksgiving dinner every year. It was mainly a chance to get together, eat delicious food, have pumpkin pie contests, talk for hours, and have long corny conversations about all the things we were thankful for. I have the best memories of those dinners – chowing down on sweet potato mash with marshmallows on top, sitting outside under the stars, feeling as though dinners just like these were some of the best times of my whole life.

Each year, my contribution would be a ridiculous sculpture made out of bread (that, and a bowl of frozen peas) – mainly because cooking and I don’t always get along, but also because I like doing weird shit like make ridiculous sculptures out of bread. My first (and most successful) bread sculpture was a big bread turkey, made out of baguettes, whole loaves, white bread slices and rolls, and held together with damp skewers and a whole lotta love.

Needless to say, Thanksgiving this year was a tough reminder of just how homesick I am. Many cafes and restaurants here hold special Thanksgiving dinners, complete with turkey and pumpkin pie, mainly for the benefit of expats. I was sitting at one such café eating a salmon bagel as they were preparing for a Thanksgiving feast of their own - and on a whim I signed myself up for the 8pm sitting.

The thought of sitting by myself, eating turkey slices and mashed potato, wishing I had one of my friends with me, was a little depressing - but the lure of a hearty roast dinner was too much for me.

Thankfully (pun intended) I ended up having a lovely time. The staff were friendly, and the woman who seemed to be in charge gave me a little bunch of carnations wrapped in foil. There was one point where I nearly started bawling into my pumpkin pie, but I held it together. On the way home, I bought a Harry Potter book for 500 yen, got a ‘free hug’, and made it home without dropping my bag of leftovers or falling over on the train. I was still a bit sad, and still really missed my friends, but I also realised that even though I’m still r e a l l y far from being a true Tokyo-ite, every day the city feels a little bit less like a stranger.

***
Things I have learned about myself since moving here, #23

I suck at riding a bike. Is it me? The bikes? I suspect the former, as everyone else has no trouble riding their bike while holding an umbrella/texting on their phone/looking around smugly. I however am lucky if I don’t run up the back of someone or wobble off the footpath and into the gutter. It is an utter disgrace.

***
In conclusion: I want this pizza. Premium Cheese Fantasy Super Rich Quatro, from Dominos Japan. This baby is appetizer, entrée, main and dessert, with a tasty cheese-filled crust. Hells yes.





“You spent the first five years trying to get with the plan
And the next five years trying to be with your friends again…”
‘All My Friends’, LCD Soundsystem

'Adventures in Solitude'

a.k.a
Having To Write About The Past Year Makes You Ten Times As Homesick

[Every year, the magazine I write film reviews for has everyone do up a ‘year that was’ summary. 250 words, including a top five of anything you want. I thought I’d include mine here as well, since it’s sort of relevant.]

Five random things I love about Japan:

1. Fanta Grape: Fake grape flavour is awesome. And when carbonated? Bliss.
2. Odd but endearing Engrish: ‘Result of work is created through passion and acting power for work brightness!’
3. The millions of vending machines: They contain everything your heart could desire, and even things you didn’t know you could desire.
4. Elementary school children’s identical backpacks (and sometimes they have hats, too!): These kiddies are just too cute. And that’s coming from a children-hater.
5. ‘American-style’ diners: Stay for hours, stay all night! Endless coffee! Endless Fanta Grape!

2009 was the year that I was turned by True Blood, wrote three children’s books, became a maid of honour, drank a lot of Mango Green Tea, saw Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince six times, cooked Coca Cola chicken, hung up my choc top scoop and cinema broom, was over the moon for Moon, became a Tabasco sauce convert, learned the Star Trek spiel off by heart, and drank about a million cups of peppermint tea. It was a year of first tattoos, Toffee Time, nerd marathons, How Stuff Works podcasts, reading Pride and Prejudice for the first time, and moving to Japan.

Um, did you get hit on the head??

Yes I know, there's a massive gap of time I haven't covered yet. After my first week in Tokyo, I headed south to Miyazaki, and I'm currently trying to do that trip proper justice in a long post. It's coming, it's coming. So keep an eye out, as it'll involve plenty of wild Kyushu adventures, including but not limited to: monkeys, deer, sushi trains, volcanoes, UFO catchers, soppy movies, flaming wooden huts and Spiderman.

'Gimme Shelter'

a.k.a
Home Sweet Home (or similar)

[More notes from the land of Desperately Hoping To Get Blog Up To Date. This post I wrote just after I moved into my current place, which I’ve been at about a week and a half now.]

Finally, I have a place to live! I have to say, knowing I have a ‘home’ for at least the next month makes me feel a lot less adrift – though only about half as panicky about life in general.

There is an underestimated joy in unpacking – in shaking out and then refolding clothes just so, making little piles of books and toiletries, finding things you forgot you packed, tucking away the empty suitcase. My room is quite cozy, and actually of decent size, and even though it has this faint odour (kind of like flowery mop disinfectant?) it’s a lot less unpleasant smelling than my original room allocation, which had a stench that was unnameable and completely off-putting.

Also, I have a little fridge! Huzzah! After I got settled, I immediately went out and bought a bunch of beverages that I wasn’t even sure I wanted (or ever would want), “for later”. This included a carton of something that could be juice, or a really disgusting flavour of milk. That said, I was pleasantly surprised by the almond-flavoured coffee I bought, which came in a special snowflake-emblazoned ‘Winter Package’ and was all sugar but very tasty. Themes are pretty big here – menus, window displays, aisle displays, brochures. I’ve seen it go from autumn leaves and jack-o-lanterns to snowflakes and Santa in a matter of days.

Speaking of beverages, I saw an ad on the train today – for something that said it was ‘vinegar and milk’. Sorry, I should elaborate – a drink that said it was vinegar and milk. There was a picture of the bottle on the ad, with a glass full of the stuff next to it - I assume it was meant to look enticing. Fail. People are supposed to drink that? A little research online (read: me typing ‘vinegar and milk’ into Google) informed me that it also has grapefruit juice in it, and there’s not really much vinegar. Well, phew! Citrus and milk, loads better!

However, being the adventurous lass I am (ha!) if someone dares me to, I’ll try it.

***
I also encountered some more ‘day-to-day life frustration’, re: my ineptness at reading and understanding Japanese. This time it was while I was trying to recharge my phone credit. I dialled the number on the card, managed to make it to a certain point, and then, at a loss, merely mashed blindly at the buttons on my new phone. I tried about five times, trying ‘0’ at the prompt (or what I thought was the prompt) and then ‘#’. Maybe saying ‘Hai’, or pressing ‘*’? Nope. I strained my ears so I was listening ever so carefully to the woman’s voice prompts each time – as though listening hard was really going to magically make my brain understand words I’ve never learnt the meaning of. For all I know, she was saying that I had incorrectly entered the code and was now going to be turned into a fruit bat.

Giving up on the ol’ ‘listen real hard and you’ll magically get bilingual powers’ tack, I then spent far too much time trying to match kanji on the recharge card to the kanji in the offending phone’s Japanese dictionary, with no luck – unsurprising, really, as I had no idea what the hell I was doing. I managed to make out only one word – ‘new; fresh; latest’. And that was it. Great. My ‘latest’ failure. I almost went bursting into the hall to flag down one of the other residents, but by that point I was all crazy and bug-eyed, clutching the phone and recharge card with all the desperation of a madwoman, so it was probably best that I didn’t. Instead I cheered myself up by putting a little Rilakkuma dangly thing on it – I mean after all, when in Japan…







[Total playa.]

***
I think it’s raining. Either that or it’s my fridge making gargling sounds. And what’s that? Someone playing pan flute at all hours of the goddamn night? Ah the delights of communal living.

No, it’s nice to have somewhere to live. I do still feel a bit like I’m in transit though. I mean, I like this guesthouse, but I kind of want to have my own place – where I can walk around with bed hair and not have to wait to use the bathroom, stuff like that. Not have people judge me when I make a peanut butter and banana sandwich, you know how it is. Am I destined to wander around Tokyo, from guesthouse to guesthouse?? Never really settled, always feeling like it’s life in a hotel? Oh well – like a rolling stone, I guess…

[Here be another delight of Japanese advertising. Okinawa, anyone?]

'Life on Mars?'

a.k.a
My First Week In Tokyo

[This post is incredibly tardy. My first week in Tokyo actually occurred about ... well, at least three weeks ago. I was hoping that hindsight would be a beautiful thing. Or that when it comes to the forest of memories, each wee memory sprout grows more poignant with age. Or ... that I have been very bad with updating this blog to date. More to come soon, I promise.]

My actual arrival in Japan, though highly anticipated, wasn’t really filled with fanfare or any particular excitement. I think it was better that way – because frankly, at the time, I was scared shitless.

I spent the bulk of my journey to Tokyo sleeping, watching episodes of crime dramas and trying not to choke to death on the cologne stench coming from the man sitting next to me. How does cologne that strong not subside, at least a little, over a 10-hour period?? It was that really horrible kind, too – the kind that is probably sold in a pack with hair gel and a thick gold chain.

Anyway, I disembarked from the plane fuzzy-headed and weak-kneed, still too nervous to even mutter a tiny ‘arigato gozaimasu’, into a pretty much deserted Narita Airport. Thankfully, airports comfort me for some freak reason, despite the abundance of solemn uniformed workers. I guess I kind of like the vibe, and these days I love anywhere that has an abundance of bilingual signage.

I was proud that I managed to make my way to my first hotel with no problems, even though a well-trained monkey probably could have done it. Pulling away from the bus depot at the airport, I had my first ‘I made it!’ moment, as I stared out the window at a little Japanese garden tucked in a fork in the road. There would be plenty more of these moments to come – one as I boarded my first train from Shinjuku Station, one as I watched a SoftBank ad on a giant video screen, and one as I successfully used my first ‘arigato gozaimasu’.

I was even more pleased when I arrived at the hotel and found it to be exceptionally nice – and further delighting me was the sheer amount of vending machines it housed, each one tucked in a special room on each floor (more on vending machines later – here in Japan they are ubiquitous, diverse and very colourful). My first meal in Japan consisted of fried chicken and an Asahi, both from vending machines. As someone lazy who loves chicken, it was about the best welcome I could have had after a long, cologne-fogged flight.

The next day, I made it into Tokyo successfully also (Narita is about an hour away), even though I tried to buy my train ticket at the wrong office and attempted to march through the wrong gate (to my credit, both times I realised my mistake before I completely embarrassed myself). Huzzah, I was on my way!


[Megmilk. Gold.]

***
A few nights after I arrived, I ventured to a bar in Shibuya where there was a film night happening. What better to brighten the spirits of a cinephile lost in an unknown city than some independent film and beer?? The films themselves were a mish mash of offerings – one film, though well-executed, was so shocking and edgy that I choked a little on my $10 Corona. Luckily, I actually spent much of the evening talking about science-fiction, Titus Andronicus, vampires, life in Japan, and why Martin Scorsese is so fantastic with two extremely lovely New Yorkers, big guys that wouldn’t have been out of place in rap videos but who were very friendly and very funny. After $20 worth of weak foreign beer and a quesadilla or two, I ran back to the station to catch the last train feeling as though I’d skipped over a little personal hurdle.

***
About a day later, I was wandering around looking for this Alice in Wonderland goth-themed bar and waiting to cross one of the main roads when I saw two guys from my flight – in the middle of Tokyo! I remember them only because I was behind them in the check-in line, so had spent a good half hour staring at the back of their heads. One of them looked like he should play an evil janitor in a teen drama and rarely changed his expression, except to switch from moderately surly to extremely surly.

Who’d have thought – me, Evil Janitor and his friend, meeting again days later on a crossing in Shinjuku! It comforted me, his surly familiar face, just as I was starting to get frustrated with the big city. But Tokyo is still Tokyo – and after I walked past the same Halloween costume store for the fifth time, map crumpled in frustration, I gave up on finding the bar.

***
After a week in Tokyo, it didn’t take me long to master getting around my little area, nor to discover that the glue that holds together life in Japan is convenience stores. I watched plenty of Japanese television (is everything a variety show?!), clutched every single map I could find as though it was the eighth Harry Potter book, ate shabu-shabu at a cute little restaurant and drank beer in an ‘American-style’ bar in Golden Gai. I even figured out my favourite spot to stand on the train - the little nook by the door, because I can lean against the end of the seat and am less likely to fall over onto the floor whenever the train moves. How do these girls in high heels stay balanced as the train jerks around, while not even holding the hand rails?! I tried some horrible "Cheetos" (read: weird-tasting cheese powder on weird-tasting puff things), and vowed to find a cheese powder snack more to my liking. Cheeza, a cheesy biscuit thing, is currently the front-runner.

I remembered that when getting off the train at Shibuya there is a larger gap between the train and the platform (I think I saw Gandalf falling down it), that the turnoff to my hotel was marked by a Mister Donut, and what the kanji for ‘yen’ is (yay! I know how to buy stuff!). I also made countless salespeople think I was a total dimwit – imagine someone smiling blankly and silently at you as you ask them if they want a bag or if a certain price is okay, only to have them shove handfuls of money at you, grab the goods and sing out ‘thank you very much!’ while bolting away. I did grow tired of constantly looking the fool during simple interactions, but that’s something I knew was likely to happen when I decided to come here. And hey, everyone has to look like an idiot sometimes. It keeps you modest.

So in conclusion, I enjoyed my brief introduction to Tokyo. I wandered happily around my neighbourhood, past the telltale beautiful men that loitered outside host clubs – recognisable due to their similar trendy hairdos, black waistcoats, tight pants and pointy shoes. I loved the familiar thok of the batting cages near my hotel – the whiz of baseballs flying about, the crack of the bat, the sight of a salaryman smashing a particularly satisfying ball always made me smile. [On a sidenote, is it wrong that I think batting cages are totally awesome? And that I would think it was a totally cool, rather than completely lame, place to go on a date? I suspect so. I put this down to many hours of watching The Sandlot Kids as a child – although A League of Their Own has to take its fair share of the blame.]

Thank you Mister Donut, for always helping me to recognise where to turn left. Thank you to the person who invented maps, and all of the companies that publish said maps, and all the stores that sell maps to people like me who can’t find their way left or right without a little assistance. Thank you to the man in front of me who made me realise that you need to press that little button on the electric door to make it open, after two nights of me standing in front of the door in utter confusion. And lastly, thank you David Bowie - for your flamboyant tones, for your son (who just directed celluloid sci-fi awesomeness, see: Moon) and for being the opening soundtrack to my Japan adventure, accompanying me through excessive cologne, baggage claim, homesickness, neon lights, and rows and rows of machines that vend everything from coffee in a can to mandarins.

[I tried to find the ad for Cheeza online... it involves a Japanese celebrity lounging about, looking attractive and eating Cheeza, before finally declaring 'I love Cheeza'. Instead I found this ad. Quality.]

Let the games begin...

I have bought my plane tickets, dog-eared my Lonely Planet, and told the folks, the boss, and the pals.

I'm off to Tokyo.

Yes, I'm terrified. But excited. It seems a million miles away at the moment, as I sit here simultaneously sifting through travel agent flyers and blueberry crumble. And I have a whole mountain of accumulated crap to trawl through and box up before I can even think about heading anywhere.

Why Tokyo? Why now?

As for the former: Why not? It's an exciting, interesting and challenging city. And most importantly, when I think about me actually living there, I can't help smiling in a giddy kind of way.

As for the latter, well, as much as I like the idea of curling up in my room watching 30 Rock, knitting and eating Doritos for the next decade, I figure that it's about time I stepped out of my comfort zone. Made my own way in the world, had one of those 'find myself' adventures. And as much as I'd like to think otherwise, I'm pretty sure that I'm no longer building any character watching reruns of Joss Whedon shows, posting photographs of Harry Potter actors on Facebook and sweeping up popcorn at the local cinema. All things I love, but surely now that I'm of an age where I hesitate when people ask "How old are you?", it's time to head into the wide world...

And thus:
Tokyo.
Crazy? Possibly.
Necessary? Probably.
Happening? Definitely.

I'll admit, when I think of my impending trip, I envision a weird montage that basically consists of scenes from Lost in Translation intermixed with images of me prancing merrily down some fluroescent Tokyo street in a trendy outfit, or weeping in front of a map of the underground.

Stay tuned... and we'll see.