Whoa...I'm in Japan?

Funny Stories on Being a FOB in Japan

What Do Japanese Girls Got that I Don’t Got? Part 2

Tokyo Where to Go: Spa LaQua

Funny Stories on Being a FOB in Japan

Published on May 20, 2013

The Nametag

nametag I am still such a FOB out here. One night my friend came over and we were drinking. There was a nametag on my table, which had my name on it in English, and above that my name in my own crappy katakana writing. (For those who don’t know, katakana is the Japanese alphabet for writing foreign words.)

“What’s this?” he said. I took one look at it and burst out laughing. It was the nametag I wear for Japanese class. I’m supposed to leave it behind and find it again every week but I always forget and wear it home. And last time, I even went shopping after class and had it on. If you were a Japanese person, what would you do if some foreigner came up to you and started asking for help in toddler Japanese with a childishly written name tag pinned onto her collar? I must have seemed mentally challenged–more so than usual. Maybe that’s why the staff girl didn’t laugh in my face, the pity in her heart wouldn’t let her.

The French Fries

Fries

Japan is known for having the best customer service, and yeah, the staff are way more polite in general than any other country I’ve been to, but Japanese businesses are not so big on bending the rules to be accommodating. I was out at an izakaya restaurant with another foreign friend. Now this next part I won’t blame on my own fobishness, because the menu was in English. We’d already eaten a lot, but the French fries at this place must have been salted with crack cause I was jonesin’, so even though I felt like I was about to pop I said, “let’s order more!”

We order the fries and there are options like “ketchup and mayo” or “garlic butter”. Now, these sound like the names of condiments right? But no, they were actually the “flavours” of the fries. So I thought I was getting fries with ketchup, mayo and garlic butter on the side but it turned out to actually be two orders of fries, one that was garlic butter flavoured and one…with ketchup and mayo on the side -_-. There was just no way we were gonna finish all that off.

There was still a full plate of fries left and I felt bad throwing them out so I wanted to find a homeless person and give them away. So we asked the waitress for a box.

“Oh I’m sorry, we don’t do take out here.”

“A bag? Anything?

“No, I’m sorry.”

Nope there was no box or bag anywhere in the whole establishment, no sir. So what happened was while my friend kept watch I put the two plates together and shoved them in a plastic bag and into my purse, like a ghetto Robin Hood. Yes, I stole my own food and the izakaya’s plates were a casualty. I felt a bit guilty but the homeless woman who got the crack-fries was really happy. They were still hot and everything. Unfortunately, I can’t go back to that izakaya anymore.

The Devil Sandwich

sandwich

Sandwiches in Japan don’t make no sense. I remember when I first came here I was shaking my head at the spaghetti sandwiches at the grocery store, literally noodles in a hot dog bun. But Japan gets a lot more creative than that. I was running late to work one day. There’s a cafe next to my building and I needed to quickly buy something for lunch. So I breezed in there, glanced at the sandwiches and grabbed one that looked good. Lunch time came and I was huuungry. I was ready for that sandwich. I took a bite and I thought to myself, “huh, this tastes familiar, but somehow wrong in a fundamental way.” That’s because I was eating the unholy union of potato salad and bread. It was a potato salad sandwich. I ate it all and hated every minute of it.

The next week I was prepared. I gave myself lots of time, I carefully read what the sandwiches were, and this time I picked up a ham and lettuce sandwich. But in Japan, (and of course this is understandable) sometimes the spelling is a bit wrong for English words, and while they spelled it ham and lettuce what they really meant was potato f*cking salad again!!! Seriously, I don’t know how this demon sandwich made it into my hands for the second time. It probably possessed what actually was just an innocent ham and lettuce sandwich. I had to eat it again, and again it sucked. And I will never return to that little cafe of horrors.

2 Comments

What Do Japanese Girls Got that I Don’t Got? Part 2

Published on April 1, 2013

My post “What Do Japanese Girls Got the I Don’t Got?”

Has kicked off quite the conversation. Eeeexcellent. However based on some of comments I feel there is some backward thinking, some flawed of logic, some plan old fashioned ignorance that I feel I must address.

I ended that post with the line, “So I guess the main point to take away from this post is, it’s men who are the real enemy ”

I was just messing around, but silly me I forgot that this is the internet, and whatever you say can and will be used against you.

Before we go any further let me clarify the two main points of the original post:

1) My insecurities are not the fault of Japanese women.

2) It is wrong for both men and women to generalize and stereotype.

Get it? Got it? Good. Now on to the comments.

Yes, people had a lot to say about Japanese women, and about me. Someone seemed to know how I dress…

Of course, how you choose to dress and present yourself is absolutely your prerogative; you can wear jeans and a shapeless sweater and no makeup and scrape your hair back and walk around Shibuya with a rucksack if you so choose, as indeed I see so many foreign women do here.

There was this weirdness:

Personal Asian are the hottest beautiful and humble girls in the world there a mystique with Japanese girl they a fit not fat they eat healthy no fat shitty food they promote peace and not war they are one on the most advance technological country in the planet who would want to marry a Japanese girl…

And I better learn to jump through hoops because any man who isn’t into Japanese girls must be racist…

Of the guys I know who visited or lived in Asia, 90% came back with more than a bit of “yellow fever” because of the way the girls over there treated them. The sad truth is the other 10% basically reveal themselves to be racists — saying something like “Yeah those girls were nice but I want my kids to be the same color as me.” That’s the type of guy that you’re left with if you don’t compete…

Can we focus on the bigger picture please? Stereotypes and assumptions about what to expect from a Japanese woman an American woman or women and men from any culture aren’t making anyone happy. What you’ll end up with are two disillusioned people fighting over who gets to keep the Royal Albert china when they divorce.

If you don’t want to listen to me, then check out this article:

Men with ‘Yellow Fever’ get a Taste of Their Own Medicine

One more time for the cheap seats; The two main points of my original post are:

1) My insecurities are not the fault of Japanese women.

2) It is wrong for both men and women to generalize and stereotype.

11 Comments

Tokyo Where to Go: Spa LaQua

Published on March 25, 2013

spa_02 Last year I was going on about Tokyo Dome City, and how I just had to one day try out the hot spring and spa nearby. Well my friends, it took a year but I made it out there with a couple of friends recently.

It’s just as fabulous and embarrassing as I expected! It’s not so expensive to get in there, about $30 US if you want to use the hot springs and the “healing baden” (and no I don’t know what a ‘baden’ is).

So here’s what went down. We went up to the sixth floor of the LaQua shopping centre. When you come out of the elevator there’s a pretty lobby area where you gotta take off your shoes. You throw them in a locker and then go to the reception. They give you these sparkly sticks, one for the hot springs and one for the healing baden. Then you walk maybe 20 feet and turn them in, and you get two sets of clothes and towels. This was the point where I got so confused my head exploded.

After my friends picked the pieces of brain out of their hair they figured out that at the next area, where there were more lockers, you’re supposed to get nekkid, throw all your stuff in there including the clothes they just gave you, take your little ‘privacy towel’ (that covers about as much as a landing strip wax job) and hit the hot springs.

I like hot springs because I never had a reason to be grateful for my poor eyesight before. It’s easier to be naked in public when I can’t really see any details, or can’t see the stares my lovely foreign body is inevitably getting.

spa_01

There are a lot of different hot springs that are supposed to have different magical powers. There are some saunas in there too. My favourite was the outdoor hot spring though. Ask me two years ago if I could even understand the idea of sticking just my naked pinky toe outside in February. But the combination of warm water and cold air is really relaxing. It’s like the hot spring is a reward for dashing outside in the cold. No one can see anything from above either. It’s enclosed, with some potted and hanging plants, like a rooftop patio. I think there was some relaxing music playing too, or I could be imagining it. It may just have been the music of my soul at peace.

After hot spring time we went to the healing baden, and that’s when we were supposed to put on the second set of clothes. We still haven’t figured out what the first set of clothes was for. The healing baden is made up of levels of saunas and “relaxation spaces” where were can lounge and take in the view of Tokyo Dome City. We went at night so the Ferris wheel was all lit up like a circular rainbow and there were skyscrapers twinkling in the background. I would have taken a picture, but just because the place is full of naked people they don’t allow cameras or phones, if you can believe such draconian rules <—(wink added for those of you who have proven you’ve never encountered sarcasm).

Never go to one of these places if you have something to do after. It’s just too relaxing. I was lucky I only had to drag my jelly legs to the train station and get home.

No Comments

Black History Month in Tokyo

Published on February 24, 2013

Last night I had the chance to get together with my fellow expats of African descent and do some cultural exchanging at Free Your Mind 2013, a yearly get together celebrating Black History Month. It was nice to be able to meet other expats and mingle with the Black community in Tokyo…and to eat!

I ate it all in exactly 4 minutes 53 seconds

I was all over that soul food plate like I was a thirteen year old girl from the suburbs and it was Justin Bieber.

There was a big turnout, the place was packed! Aside from the delicious food there were performances–singing and spoken word poetry. There was also a Black history trivia quiz, and a salsa lesson that turned into something like the cha cha slide.

The Crowd at Free Your Mind 2013

I had a fabulous time, and if I’m still in Tokyo next year I’ll definitely be going again.

5 Comments

How Long Are You Gonna Stay in Japan?

Published on January 27, 2013

Japan

Happy New Year! And welcome to my first post of 2013. The start of a new year is usually the time when people take some time to plan, think about the future, make resolutions…and what am I but another bumbling fumbling earthling trying to make sense of the vastness of the universe and the puzzle that is life?

The end of 2012 came with some big changes for me. I ended relationships, both romantic and platonic, and reconnected with old friends and family who had been somewhat neglected in favour of “finding myself” in Tokyo. Last year, I blogged that my homecoming at Christmas was kind of anticlimactic. However this time around, when it was time to go home I found myself in a bathroom stall in Pearson airport, staring at the speckled grey door in confusion with tears running down my face because I was so sad to be leaving Canada!

So although I still love my Tokyo, I’ve decided this will be my last year-and-a-bit in this city, and likely Japan. The yen is dropping, so I can’t make as much money. There’s no longer a love interest keeping me here. And truthfully I miss feeling like I belong somewhere. Though I’ve met some wonderful people here and I have a lot of fun, there’s nothing like being able to let your hair down the way you can with people who’ve known you your whole life and love you unconditionally.

While I’m having the time of my life here there’s something about expat life, at least for me, that feels like a detour. I’ve even had some expat friends compare living here to being in university again, but with more money. I feel like at some point I have to “get back to real life”…though I’m not sure why I feel that way. I’ve always wanted to work as a writer/editor, and I can theoretically do that from anywhere in the world now that we’ve got this magical new thing called in-ter-net. I guess there are other things to consider, like “settling down”. In my last post I touched on the trials foreign women face dating out here. There’s that, and I don’t really want to raise a child in Japan. On top of concerns about bullying/out-casting (this IS the country that still has a ‘no foreigners allowed’ policy at certain establishments), I don’t want to add language difficulties to the challenge of parenting.

Maybe it’s my impending birthday, looming like a hungry seagull ready to swoop down and snatch another french fry of life, that’s making me feel this way. I only have a couple of years of my twenties left, and I guess I feel once I’m thirty that’s the time to stop searching for materials from which to make a life and start actually building one.

13 Comments

What Do Japanese Girls Got That I Don’t Got?

Published on December 5, 2012

One of the things that attracted me to Tokyo was how glamorous it seemed to be, with everyone dressed to kill. I wanted to marvel at the beautiful people all around me, and maybe I hoped it was somehow contagious. See, I was in a rut back home. I needed some glitz in my life, and I hoped I could find it this city, famous for its bright lights and brighter finery. I wasn’t disappointed.

However there was one thing I didn’t really plan for. Yes, many of the people here, especially the women, are stunning. I wasn’t prepared for the tireless attention women in Tokyo put into their appearance. There are many girls here who wouldn’t dream of leaving the house without their hair extensions glued in tight, their nails done right, and heels at least three inches high. I’d estimate at least a quarter of the women I see out and about in Tokyo everyday are bona fide head-turners.

I also wasn’t prepared for the level of…enthusiasm foreign men would have for these glamorous real-life Barbies, and not long after getting settled in a little voice inside began to say, “hey, what about me?” I tried to ignore it, chalked it up to insecurity. Besides, I was getting my share of attention from men here and there, but I was always grudgingly aware that if Japan were a Pizza Hut my share was a pepperoni slice, while my Japanese counterparts where gorging on the number 10 party combo. See, for some reason Japanese men don’t go after foreign women with the same passion. The voice began to get angrier, and harder to ignore.

What do they got that I don’t got? These fools just want a woman who’s submissive. Foreign women don’t want them, that’s why they go crazy for Japanese girls. Besides, Japanese girls are easy, no wonder men love them. Who wouldn’t want a girl who would drop her pants just because you look vaguely like the guy she saw in

a movie once?

Constantly having the assumed superiority of Japanese women rubbed in my face was highly irritating, and all that rubbing caused painful blisters to form and made me grouchy and ugly.

I began to see Japanese girls as the enemy. I’d feel my lip curl in disgust when I saw a girl pulling down her mini skirt to try to shield as much of her skinny little thighs from the cold of mid-January as possible. Bitch, just wear some damn jeans!

Then one day I went to at a party with a bunch of coworkers and their friends/significant others and I found myself trapped in a small basement living room with some of them, the enemy themselves. I eyed them, they eyed me and I realized I had no real Japanese girlfriends to speak of, that my ideas about Japanese women came largely from hearsay, and I had a choice to make. I grabbed the whiny, insecure brat inside— let’s call her Egorella— I grabbed Egorella by the hair and shoved her and her bitching to the back of my mind, and introduced myself to the women at the party.

Fast forward about eight months later. Some of the women I met that day became friends that I see on a regular basis. Hooray! I was cured. The blisters had popped, and the haterade inside had drained right? I’d thought so, until I went to Disneyland with my boyfriend. I went to the bathroom and when I came out there was a girl at the sink. A real cutie with smooth skin and rosy cheeks, hair in pigtails, perfect makeup and a fitted dress that flared femininely around her hips…well except for that part at the back that was tucked into her pantyhose. Before I could even think Egorella was all over it. She let out a whoop of pure evil joy.

Aaaaahahahah! She thinks she’s too cute, checking herself out in the mirror like that. And her skirt is stuck in her panties! What a stupid chick!

These otherworldly Japanese beauties were fallible after all! She was about to walk outside like that, mooning all of Disney Land! Ahahahah….ah, I couldn’t let that happen, could I? But she deserved it…didn’t she? Or didn’t she? Damn, I had to tell her. After all, it wasn’t her fault I thought she was cuter than me. I tapped her on the shoulder.

“Sumimasen…”

I didn’t know how to say “your panties are trying to eat your skirt” in Japanese so I just sort of gestured to her behind. Her perfectly manicured hands flew to her backside, where she felt that something was very wrong. She “arigatou gozaimasu-ed” me and bowed, and I did my awkward bow/nod thing I do, and then got of there.

This jealousy that foreign women can have for Japanese women is something I’ve bumped into online before when reading blogs by foreign women, but never really saw it written about in much detail. I do hear the hate/frustration come out of the mouths of other foreign friends from time to time, despite having Japanese women as friends. My foreign girlfriends will even sometimes admit they feel bad saying such things, but it’s like it goes without saying that they mean some other girl, perhaps one of those girls who exclusively seduce foreign men. They’ll say things like:

I heard Japanese women are bad in bed. They just lie there.

Guys just want someone who will do what they tell them, that’s why they love Japanese girls.

Behind these statements are feelings of betrayal, and they remind me of Chapter 4 of the autobiography of Malcolm X, in which Malcolm dumps his loyal black girlfriend Laura for a sexy white seductress named Sophia. The allure of the exotic and the bragging rights of being with a white woman were too much for him to resist. Laura goes from bookworm to prostitute, and Malcolm blames himself for her downfall.

This cliché of black men flocking to white woman who just want to use them as accessories is one I grew up on. However it’s interesting to see this phenomenon play out in Japan, because the girlfriends and coworkers I refer to are from countries like Australia, America and England, and the majority of them are white. Doesn’t it stand to reason then that I should be happy to see white women getting a taste of their own medicine? Strangely no, because you see the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

But here’s the thing, I didn’t pack up my life and move here to make enemies. I came here to learn a thing or two about myself, and life and the world we live in. And I’ve realized many of the men who claim to “love” Japanese women are working off of stereotypes, and that “love” I’ve been so jealous of is nothing more then objectification. Hell, when I did a google search for images for this post, most of the results were of women in bikinis. Hating on cute Japanese chicks is a waste of time, unless I also wanted to be objectified. Besides, when you think you’re great, there’s no need to hate. Japanese, Black, White, Latino, Native American…whatever. All women have their charms, and it’s our duty to find them and work them as best we can. So I say props to Japanese women for doing what you gotta do to pull the man of your dreams. Though I still scratch my head at some of you wearing heels to the supermarket, I can’t deny that I admire your dedication.

So I guess the main point to take away from this post is, its men who are the real enemy .

45 Comments

People in Japan Can’t Dance

Published on October 25, 2012

…not unless they want to risk getting cuffed and kicked out of the club.

Technically, it’s been illegal to dance in clubs or bars after a certain hour since 1984, but that law’s never really been enforced until the last few years.

The picture above is an excerpt from an interview with Daisha Hunter, founder of ENTokyo. You can read the rest in the October issue of tsuki magazine.

Daisha works with clubs in Tokyo to put on artist showcases, CD release parties and so on, and she had a lot to say about this law, it’s discriminatory nature and the negative effect it has on the entertainment industry.

Everyone from DJs, to club owners to promoters, [face the risk] of having their events raided, being arrested…I heard ballroom dancing is now separated from the entertainment law, because they look at ballroom dancing like its…I was told it’s morally good for Japanese people to ballroom dance. And I was like well how can you say that and yet hip-hop dancing is under this law, salsa dancing…

I haven’t run into this law myself, but I’ve heard from friends who have seen the “no dancing” signs on the walls in clubs, or felt that polite shoulder tap and heard sumimasen if their rhythmic swaying to the music started to become just a bit too organized.

Now, I already had an inkling as to the purpose of this law, especially after hearing only certain kinds of dancing we’re restricted, but I decided to use it as the topic for one of my group lessons, to hear what the youth of Japan thought — about clubs, about dancing and about this law. One of my students was pretty candid and simply said dancers, especially hip hop dancers, we’re considered “bad boys” in Japanese culture, (he had no comment on female dancers).

So reading between the lines, obviously the law has nothing to do with the actual dancing, but rather the type of people who would be most likely to bust a move. There’s nothing wrong with trying to crack down on crime, but because some stuffy old men with side parts and comb-overs decided dancers were the trouble makers, but couldn’t quite get away with shutting down clubs out right (think of all the money that would be lost!) they decided to use this blanket law. Now you can’t even shake your tail feather at a concert out here without looking over your shoulder. I can only guess this is a move to discourage the riff-raff, with their baggy jeans and over-sized shirts (clearly meant to hide their weapons), or their tight muscle shirts, (clearly meant to show off their biceps and seduce innocent Japanese women) from going out at night.

You can read more about it here

Sigh, the whole thing makes Japan seem more…ominous to me, like the government is this shadowy, giant foot constantly dangling above our heads, ready to drop down and squish any time they want.

What do you think, is there any merit to this law?

8 Comments

tsuki September and Fading Friendships while Living in Japan

Published on September 17, 2012

After lots of hard work, the September issue of tsuki magazine is on sale! You can check it out here and even get a discount using this code: tsuki0912

My favourite part of this month’s magazine is a story called “The Next Offensive” by Peter Able. It’s about two friends chilling playing some video games online, but as the story goes on you can see the subtle distance that’s started to grow between them. This part of the story especially shows it:

When Billy’s follow-up question finally came it was in a sympathetic, yet sarcastic tone: “So it’s driving you nuts, huh?”

“Not all of the time,” came Tom’s delayed reply. “Sometimes it’s pretty cool. Everything is different, so every day is interesting. But some days, you just want everything to be easy, and it never is. Even the simplest things, like making a dinner reservation, or getting an oil change, can be so friggin’ difficult. Second wave leaving in ten.”

“My troops took out eighty percent of wall defenses so you shouldn’t lose much. Yeah, I can see how it could be frustrating,” Billy said noncommittally.

* * *

“So how long are you going to stay?” he asked.
“I don’t know, at least another year. Maybe forever,” Tom replied.
“Wow, really?” Billy said. A few more moments passed before he added: “I’m gonna have to come for a visit one of these days.”
“Yeah, definitely.” It was Tom’s turn to sound noncommittal.

Losing friendships — it’s not something I thought about before coming to Japan, or read about on any other blogs. Nobody warned me about this! *sadface*. I’ve never been that good at keeping in touch, even when I did live in the same country as my friends. I wasn’t so big on long phone conversations. I used texts or Facebook instead, or just saw them in person the old-fashioned way. And even if we hadn’t talked for a month, we’d get together again and it would be like we hadn’t skipped a beat.

However, last Christmas I met up with my old crew, and while I was glad to see them, I could tell something was off. The old jokes weren’t as funny, the old hangouts weren’t as fun to visit, and the old sushi didn’t taste as good. I’m not the same person I was when I left almost two years ago. I probably haven’t changed as much as I’d like to think I have, but there has definitely been some growth.

I feel guilty for feeling like I’m not on the same wavelength as my friends in Canada. Am I just being stuck up? Thinking I’m fancy ’cause I live in Tokyo?

I’ve grown by living abroad and expanded my horizons while my poor friends are stuck in their small-town mindsets, and now I can’t relate to them.

I cringed just writing that, and it’s an exaggerated example of what I feel, yet when I go home I don’t quite feel that old sense of belonging anymore. It scares me. Is there still a home for me when I go back…if I go back? Maybe this is one reason some people stay here longer than they probably should have. I wouldn’t say I belong here, but truthfully, part of why I like it here is that I’m not supposed to belong. I’m a foreigner, an outsider, and nothing will change that, which leaves me free to stop trying. But if I don’t belong here, and I no longer belong in Canada, then where do I fit in?

4 Comments

Super Fun Time Tokyo Summer 2012

Published on August 28, 2012

Well, these days I’ve been trying to look as dignified as I can wiping the streams of sweat running down my face while I’m waiting for the train. In a few short weeks, summer will be over, and though I complain, it hasn’t been all bad, far from it. In fact this summer has been one of the best I’ve ever had!

Some of the highlights of super fun time Tokyo summer 2012 have been:

Crossing Izu Peninsula off my places to go list
Finally going to Kamakura
My first trip to Tokyo Disneyland
Facing off with insect after insect until I finally reached the end boss — giant cockroach.

Let’s start off with my trip to Izu. I went with a whole big group of friends, and we all stayed in the same hostel, so it become something like summer camp for 20-somthings, featuring fireworks, alcohol and swimsuits — in other words the most fun I’ve ever had in my life. On top of that, my friend from Canada was visiting at the time so I also got to be a showoff wowing her with my crappy Japanese and how well I’ve adjusted to Japanese life. Hey! Don’t cut your eyes at my blog like that! OK fine maybe not “wowing”…but she was impressed, I think…Oh just give me this!!

Anyway, Izu was just as amazing as I thought it would be. I said we stayed in a hostel, but I use the world lightly. This place was gorgeous, and had it’s own hot spring. It was made to resemble a fancy Ryokan — traditional Japanese Inn — except they don’t give you food, they make you cook your own breakfast and dinner and stuff, and then pass the savings on to you!

We went beach hopping, and my favourite was Shirahama beach in Shimoda because this…

I also ate a lot of sashimi that weekend. I’ve liked sashimi since I lived in Toronto, but this was SA-SHI-MI — straight from the ocean, kicking and screaming, to your plate, and it was just as delicious as it looks.

I also finally, after a year of saying, “I’ll go next week, I’ll go next week”, made it out for a day trip to Kamakura. First I went to Hokokuji temple, which has a big bamboo grove.

Then had a break to eat my third favourite Japanese food, okonomiyaki. Then we went to see that big buddha everyone’s always going on about, and yeah it was kind of amazing. I hear it took ten years or so to build it.

The Happiest Place..uh…in Japan!

And, at last, I went to Tokyo Disneyland, with Loco as my guide/date. We went at night so by then all the little kids and babies had left, and there wasn’t the usual ridiculous crowds. Still, there were no rides that had a wait of less than half an hour. To be honest, the rides at Tokyo Disney ain’t alldat anyway, it’s geared more toward kids, but the atmosphere is fun.

We mostly ate. Loco was hyped to get this smoked turkey leg they had there. See turkey is pretty rare in Japan. And people must be really jonesing for that sweet, sweet turkey meat because the line was really long. So after waiting in line with the smell of delicious smoked meat teasing our noses and making our mouths water the whole time we finally got our hands on them drumsticks. I took one big bite and it was…OK. Kinda bland actually. Hmmm, you got some ‘splainin to do Loco. He said it was better the last time he was there. Maybe he was really hungry back then. You know like when you get so ravenously hungry even tootsie rolls from Halloween three years ago taste good? But whatever, turkey is turkey.

Look at that barely contained panic…but he didn’t scream even once. I was so proud!

And then, even though he hates roller coasters, Loco went on space mountain with me…awww! Here he is, a doomed man waiting in line…

Yup, I’ve seen some good times this summer. But if there’s one thing I cannot stand about summertime in Tokyo it’s the giant (compared to Canada anyway) bugs! All August big disgusting cicadas have been flying around, having loud sex, and then leaving their dead carcasses all over the damn street! Somehow a little green mantis got into my apartment during mantis season in July, and I kicked him out. I gotta always check my laundry that’s been hanging out for little spiders before I bring it in. And then there are the roaches…ooooh don’t get me started on the roaches. The “small” ones are almost two inches long, and the mofos fly! Flying roaches!!

I always had, what I felt to be an irrational fear that one would somehow turn up in my apartment. Even though in almost a year of living there I hadn’t seen one and the walls are concrete. How could something that big get in? Nevertheless, after a summer of dodging cicadas and sweeping up spiders and crushing beetles, it was time to face the boss. One day, after a nice nighttime bike ride I came home, opened my door and there it was, a creature from the foulest garbage bins of hell, a big black roach staring at me in my entryway. I froze, and it bolted to the left and into my bathroom. I was still stuck in shock, sure this was some kind of nightmare, but during my hesitation the thing skittered — like literally skittered I could hear it’s legs scrabbling on the floor — out of my bathroom and straight into the bedroom under the bed. How do they always know we can’t get them under the bed!! I could not believe this thing was in my nice, clean, cute apartment. Anyway, once my body could move again I went out, bought roach traps and put them down and hopped on my bed wearing my shoes. You know that game the floor is lava? It was like that, except the floor was a god damn roach playground. I turned off the light to lure him out. Sure enough he couldn’t resist the succulent roach trap, and when he came out he got one shoe to the face. But one hit wasn’t enough to kill this bad boy. I had to hammer it like five times to get it to stop moving, until it was a mess of guts. Then I shakily scooped it up in toilet paper, and flushed it down the toilet, and spent the night obsessively cleaning.

So, my nightmare happened, and I dealt with it. Let that be a lesson to the rest of you roaches. Don’t mess with me, I’m a badass roach killing commando. Hell, that one was probably the scout. I hope the rest are warned by his lack of return and keep it moving. They better, or I got a nice hard shoe waiting.

13 Comments

A Letter from the Assistant Editor

Published on August 11, 2012

In the August 2012 issue of tsuki magazine, I didn’t write an official letter from the editor. I figured I’d leave that up to the boss lady, miss Caroline Josephine, the mastermind behind tsuki magazine.

Me working on tsuki magazine

But with CJ gone on a pilgrimage back to her motherland, America, it was up to me to put on the editor hat and get all that juicy content, sent in from contributors all round the world out into the internets. It was an amazing challenge! And I’m proud to say tsuki magazine vol. 4 has officially debuted.

I had more fun than a mouse in a chunk of Swiss cheese (awwww!) designing and editing this issue. More and more people are asking to be contributors, and the content keeps improving in quality. And we over at tsuki learn a little more with each issue about how to make the magazine better. I’m really excited to see how far this magazine can go.

Thank you, Thank you and thank you again to everyone who contributed, purchased, tweeted, facebooked, and otherwise helped push tsuki into its 4th issue!

Get a sample of the August issue here.