Geisha, Interrupted

Finding God on a T-shirt

So I found God last weekend, at a T-shirt shop in Harajuku:

 

See?  And while I was at it, I found useful life advice:

(text: do not afraid of hurting)

A lecture in metaphysics:

 

 

Tips for the bedroom:

(back)

 

(text: super the/ up down luv heaven/ Wide Love. 

(front)

A course in surviving the trauma of a failed relationship (I think):

Addiction counseling (sort of):

And finally, an offer I had to decline:

 

(text: Time to wait for you in the room is liked/ I will consider various things/ When I think rapidly, I am a disagreeable feeling/ Since smoke is also inehaled and is diverted/ Let's make a love by coming early!!)

Karaoke: Not Just for Drunks Anymore...!

Every day I come across more ordinary experiences that I used to believe were impossible to tolerate without the aid of a drink.

Whether it be going to a sushi bar without ordering a bottle of sake to invariably spill on the fish, visiting my former homestay family without guzzling chu-hi on the train over to Yokohama, or even getting a phone call from someone back in the US without a six pack on hand, all of these experiences feel like stepping stones upon which I cautiously maintain my balance as I cross a river of sorts.

Going to Karaoke the other day, however, was more like jumping into the water and just swimming to the other side instead.

I should note that Japanese karaoke is strictly distinct from the American adaptation. In Japan, the sing-along fest is almost always a private party.  Establishments rent out dozens of small rooms equip with the machines, so that we need only embarrass ourselves in front of our closest friends.  It is also not uncommon to go to karaoke alone.  Salarymen and high school students will often patronize karaoke boxes during their lunch breaks, so that they might alleviate some work-related stress by belting along to their favorite songs while no one is watching.  These establishments serve alcohol, but it is not a requirement. 

Nonetheless, karaoke and intoxication still go together like sake and sashimi.

I was out with my best friend, and I forget which one of us suggested going to karaoke.  It is something that we always used to do while out drinking together.  I will call her "Jade" because that is her name in my book. She knows that I have quit drinking, and is an ardent fan of the decision.  At karaoke, she chose not to drink in my company although I told her it would be fine if she did.  I was surprised that she didn't feel the need to order a drink despite the environment.  Other People, I am learning, do not drink nearly as much as I thought that they did.

And so we sang the latest J-pop tunes.  English lyrics occasionally made cameo appearances in these songs, seemingly for decoration.  This "English" is heavily accented and basically indecipherable while only listening to the songs on the radio, so we were very amused to learn the actual nature of these lyrics while reading them off of the TV screen.

I thought you might be too:

I am learning that laughter can be an intoxicating substance in itself, and in this light I feel lucky that I live here in Japan, where there exists so, so much to laugh about.

Today on Japanese TV: Paris Hilton's Giant 'Man Feet'

As I flipped through the channels on my TV while eating breakfast this morning, I came upon an unnecessarily familiar face from back in America: Paris Hilton.  After briefly mentioning that Paris is in jail, the host of the Japanese talk/news program turned to a more pressing matter: her measurements.

As the host pointed a model of her body as if it were a weather map, he recited the measurments of her height, hips, bust and waist in centemeters.  His female co-host ooh-ed and ahh-ed in envy.  When he got to expressing her shoe size however, the mood changed.  The co-host expression became one of shock. 

"Her feet are that big?!" she exclaimed.

"Yes," the host said, holding up a piece of paper said to be the length of her foot against the smaller figure of his own shoe.

"Paris has feet like a man," his co-host added, "even bigger than a man's!"

"She has to ask the brand-name designers to make special giant shoes for her." the host revealed.  At that, everybody laughed. 

"Charisma Man" Sightings

Leaving for my 10:00 meeting this morning, I crossed paths with two of the white American young men who live in my building.  They wore sunglasses and muscle shirts, trying desperately hard to look cool despite the fact that they had obviously been out all night.  On their arms were two Japanese young women, whom they had just met at some point the night before.  To infer so much is obvious.  I witness similar happenings every weekend.  It is ridiculously easy for western men to pick up Japanese girls here in Tokyo.  Just as people say that a foreigner will lose 10 pounds upon adapting to Japanese culture and cuisine ("the gaijin 10," it's called), it is equally common knowledge that a foreign male's attractiveness ratio to the opposite sex will increase exponentially upon arrival here.  In fact, this phenomenon is so widespread that somebody has even created a cartoon based upon this real-life freak show.  Meet Charisma Man:

Yes I, Western Woman, am Charisma Man's evil nemesis.  This is all very accurate, but I will save that battle for another day because I would rather discuss the Japanese woman on Charisma Man's arms.  In the Charisma Man series, the role of his Japanese girlfriend is that of a mascot. She has very few speaking roles and I don't believe she even has a name.

Yet there is so much more to her in real life.  Having been in Japan quite a while, I've come to see that the two women I saw passing my apartment this morning belong to a specific sub-culture of young Japanese women who will lust after foreign men night after drunken night.

These women are usually in their early 20s.  They are either university students, night workers, or night workers who say that they are university students.  You might notice them as the hobbling bow-legged girls, whose penchants for platforms and high-heels has seriously inhibited their ability to walk.  They are obsessed with brand-name goods, largely because these women have no sense of self beyond the desire to have that which they are supposed to want.

Their life experience is limited.  They want to see the world outside of Japan, but someone invariably warned them that this would be too dangerous (there are guns and drugs out there!).  Especially for a young woman.  So they opt for the virtual escape instead.   Cross-cultural relationships have a way of negating many socially-governed rules, especially with respect to gender roles and what is considered appropriate behavior.  So it is that many a Japanese woman's ticket out of her repressive culture, takes the form of a white man.

I sometimes wonder whether our Charisma Man ever feels guilty about taking home a different Japanese girl each weekend.  More often, however, I wonder whether or not he realizes that she is playing the same game he is, or if he knows that she is not likely to waste much time in seducing her next dish of white meat.

3.6 Views of Tokyo Tower

dO i lOOk fAt iN tHiS lIgHt ??

Study of author,                                                                                                                                                                               

through the eyes of her cell phone,

at a train station.

                                                                                                                                           

      

death by translation

Newsflash: japanese is really, really, really hard.

This is all that is going through my mind right now.  I haven't been around for the the past couple days because I somehow agreed to translate a Japanese proposal into English.  The proposal- to adapt a book into an anime series (which, of course, has little in common the actual literature)- was LONG.  A last minute request from the dispatch agency I freelance with, I agreed to translate the whole thing in only two days.  During which time, I have been translating nonstop.  For the few hours I alloted myself for rest last night, I could barely fall asleep.  I kept wondering why I do these things to myself.  The proposal was way too long for me to translate in that amount of time.  I don't know what I was thinking.  I always feel like I have something to prove with respect to translation work.  This is largely because I am a white girl, and people assume every day that I can't speak their language.  Still.  Although I am finished the proposal now, my brain is still floating around in that odd anime land of winged cats, evil fairies, dark lords and (this is my favorite) a dragon that- of neither a solid nor liquid composition- can merge with vehicles to become what is called an Evil Dragon Car.

My head hurts.  I sleep now.

Happosai Incarnate Busted in Osaka

Found this gem in the news today:

Kimono snatcher leads police to booty of over 8,000 articles of women's underwear

OSAKA -- A man under indictment for stealing a woman's kimono had collected about 8,200 items of women's underwear and other clothing at his one-room apartment here and wrapped himself in some of the clothes when he slept, investigators said. Local police were forced to mobilize five mini buses to transport the clothing. . .

I feel like I've seen this guy somewhere.  Wait, it's Happosai !!

 

Domo Arigato...

Thanks so much Irish Pal, Scout and VicariousRising for christening my comments section! I was beginning to wonder whether it was working.  I was just a few clicks away from testing the section out by having a typical chat with myself the likes of:

by Geisha:  How come nobody writes comments?

by Interrupted: Because nobody likes you.

by Geisha: That's a bit harsh!

by Interrupted: I told you no one would read your blog.

by Geisha: Have patience, we just started....

Luckily, that dialogue will not have to continue. I am delighted to find that there is such a strong recovery community in the blogosphere; it gives me more hope than ever. I am very much looking forward to getting to know all of you, so please stay tuned!

Also, tomorrow I will be five months sober!!

The Amazing Disappearing Japanese Modernity

Ok, now this is just weird.  I was clearing out the pictures in my camera phone when I noticed these.  I was about to delete the photos below, taken in rapid succession as I unsuccessfully tried to capture a taxi cab as it drove past the opening in this gate, when I noticed something bizarre.  The building in the background gradually disappears! I don't know much about photography - besides the fact that my camera phone has become an obsession since I got sober- but I suppose the illusion has something to do with the fact that the pictures were taken at twilight.  Check it out.