I live here in Tokyo.
Back in my home country I am very ordinary. No one ever stares at me, or uses me for random English language practice on public transport. I can read all the labels, I don't have to guess the ingredients to food, and people don't actively cross the road to avoid me, or clap their hands in amazement when I eat with chopsticks. In Tokyo I am a figure of much fascination. Every little thing is a minor puzzle to be fathomed out (I can't read Kanji) so just walking around takes quite a bit of energy, and feels like challenging experience, at times.
I just realized I lead an extraordinarily dull life in fact. The day before yesterday my make up bag went to God. I was heart broken, I loved that bag, and I took it everywhere with me. I was beside myself.
I keep my emergency lollies in it, in case I have a hypo and I have already eaten my emergency banana (I have hypoglycemia, and I have a designated Banana Case that I carry everyday, to stop it getting squashed in my bag) and The Duck actively mines in my back pack for sweets, abusing the zip on my little net bag until it finally bit the big one.
It came from a big 99 yen store, that has since closed down.
Now, I am not particularly cheap, but I am fairly poor, so I lamented the fact that now all my girly stuff was running wild and unchecked inside my schoolbag. Tampons touching my banana, the lid of my lipstick going astray, and drawing on my paper back novel as I walk to the shops, my head ache tablets getting into everything, and leaping out unbidden when I looked for something else.
Gods, it was horrible I tell you! I was cranky for days and days, all my things higglety pigglety in my bag. I hate having a disorganised bag. I feel people judge you when you have to rustle for too long, trying to find something.
My friend saw my misery, and like a true gentleman, offered to let me have his bread maker as a hostage in my house indefinitely to ease my pain. There are many lovely things about Japan, but proper bread seems to be a mystery to these people. Japanese bread is soft, sweet, predigested muck. When I go to the park and feed it to the ducks, I often have pangs of guilt about what I may be doing to their health.
I have had several dreamy hallucinations of eating real crusty bread in slices as thick as my hand, perhaps containing actual whole grain flour, and (Gasp!) seeds and other bits!! Lashed with butter and slathered with Vegemite, then I woke up, and remembered I don't have the bread maker yet, I only have products resembling a bread like shape in my house (that is where the resemblance to actual bread ends) and my make up things are still on the loose inside my back pack (sigh).
On the way back into to Tokyo from Yokohama, I spotted a new 100 yen shop in Takadanobaba, and with hope in my bosom, I rushed out of the station and scoured the shelves for a replacement make up baggy.
I found an Okaaaaaay replacement (it's not beautiful, but at least my tampons and my banana have separate lives now). The real reason I feel the need to write about this with breathless excitement, is that they have a WHOLE SECTION of nail art products all for around a buck each.
I scored a bunch of glittery nail pens and polishes in beyoootiful colours, two bottles of monomer liquid, brush cleaner, acrylic powder, a natty little dappen dish and some other goodies all for under 20 bucks. God I could live there.
Now everyone in my house has a mani and pedi (it's the last day of my 3 day Summer hols) except The Daddy, but he has to sleep some time....
THE DUCK & I HAD MANNI／PEDI'S
T
LADY BUG TOES
Back in my home country I am very ordinary. No one ever stares at me, or uses me for random English language practice on public transport. I can read all the labels, I don't have to guess the ingredients to food, and people don't actively cross the road to avoid me, or clap their hands in amazement when I eat with chopsticks. In Tokyo I am a figure of much fascination. Every little thing is a minor puzzle to be fathomed out (I can't read Kanji) so just walking around takes quite a bit of energy, and feels like challenging experience, at times.
I just realized I lead an extraordinarily dull life in fact. The day before yesterday my make up bag went to God. I was heart broken, I loved that bag, and I took it everywhere with me. I was beside myself.
I keep my emergency lollies in it, in case I have a hypo and I have already eaten my emergency banana (I have hypoglycemia, and I have a designated Banana Case that I carry everyday, to stop it getting squashed in my bag) and The Duck actively mines in my back pack for sweets, abusing the zip on my little net bag until it finally bit the big one.
It came from a big 99 yen store, that has since closed down.
Now, I am not particularly cheap, but I am fairly poor, so I lamented the fact that now all my girly stuff was running wild and unchecked inside my schoolbag. Tampons touching my banana, the lid of my lipstick going astray, and drawing on my paper back novel as I walk to the shops, my head ache tablets getting into everything, and leaping out unbidden when I looked for something else.
Gods, it was horrible I tell you! I was cranky for days and days, all my things higglety pigglety in my bag. I hate having a disorganised bag. I feel people judge you when you have to rustle for too long, trying to find something.
My friend saw my misery, and like a true gentleman, offered to let me have his bread maker as a hostage in my house indefinitely to ease my pain. There are many lovely things about Japan, but proper bread seems to be a mystery to these people. Japanese bread is soft, sweet, predigested muck. When I go to the park and feed it to the ducks, I often have pangs of guilt about what I may be doing to their health.
I have had several dreamy hallucinations of eating real crusty bread in slices as thick as my hand, perhaps containing actual whole grain flour, and (Gasp!) seeds and other bits!! Lashed with butter and slathered with Vegemite, then I woke up, and remembered I don't have the bread maker yet, I only have products resembling a bread like shape in my house (that is where the resemblance to actual bread ends) and my make up things are still on the loose inside my back pack (sigh).
On the way back into to Tokyo from Yokohama, I spotted a new 100 yen shop in Takadanobaba, and with hope in my bosom, I rushed out of the station and scoured the shelves for a replacement make up baggy.
I found an Okaaaaaay replacement (it's not beautiful, but at least my tampons and my banana have separate lives now). The real reason I feel the need to write about this with breathless excitement, is that they have a WHOLE SECTION of nail art products all for around a buck each.
I scored a bunch of glittery nail pens and polishes in beyoootiful colours, two bottles of monomer liquid, brush cleaner, acrylic powder, a natty little dappen dish and some other goodies all for under 20 bucks. God I could live there.
Now everyone in my house has a mani and pedi (it's the last day of my 3 day Summer hols) except The Daddy, but he has to sleep some time....
THE DUCK & I HAD MANNI／PEDI'STLADY BUG TOES
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